ickleronniekinsemotionalrange - Tumblr blog

ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 2 months ago

Text

cross that line ꕤ (l.h)

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

summary: For a long time, you were content hiding your feelings, but lately, the longing for someone you can’t have has become unbearable. Despite knowing he could never be yours, you still cherished the sweet ache in your heart whenever he smiled or gave you a warm, platonic hug. Then, one day, everything changed.

genre: fluff + angst + smut (18+ mdni)

word count: 14k (14k on the dot to be precise but yeah uhm. sorry. I swear I'm normal)

warnings/tags: friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, thunderstorms, idiots in love, mutual pining, assumed unrequited love, jealous!reader, reader is described as shorter than logan, emotional!reader, miscommunication kinda, inexperienced/virgin!reader, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, piv sex, soft!dom logan, ok… just in overall bye, logan is soft for reader, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk, oral fixation. some daddy kink? breeding kink aaaaa sorry. I wrote this while ovulating. they’re both FREAKS. scent kink? lots of pet names. this is high key sweet and turns filthy. logan is worshipping his sweet girl ok! reader is a mutant. reader has hair, no further description though. this is not beta read sorry!

a/n: GUESS WHAT!!! user healmydesires is back with another self indulgent fic about a new blorbo! I’ve been having all random kinds of scenarios about logan in my head and I just didn’t know which type of story to go with. until I felt like there weren’t much of inexperienced/virgin reader fics for logan and tbh… that’s kinda my brand (I’m high key kidding but lowkey that’s what I love to write the most) if you’ve read my works so. I thought I’ll write what I WANT to read. so this is high key self indulgent. english isn’t my first language so pls bear with me <3 also ngl.. a lot of it is just smut 😭 I literally wrote this while ovulating… EDIT (19/09): I kinda edited it a bit because it had a lot of grammar mistakes and I'd often jump from present tense to past tense so ye

this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3

AO3 • masterlist

Being roommates with your best friend had its perks. You were together almost all the time, sharing both the big and small moments. As fellow teachers, you could easily swap teaching tips, lend each other a hand with tasks, or offer guidance when you were feeling stuck. Your tall best friend effortlessly reached the top shelves, and you both enjoyed laughter-filled moments during movie marathons. Sharing responsibilities became more fun too—splitting chores like cooking and laundry felt easy and natural. Plus, there was comfort in knowing your best friend was always dependable, ready to support you whenever you needed it. And whenever you were in need of a hug, your best friend was probably already ready to envelop you in his warm embrace.

But it also had its disadvantages.

Especially considering that Logan Howlett, your best friend, was quite the menace.

Logan had always had a rugged handsomeness that effortlessly made people swoon all around him. It wasn't fair how pretty he was. He had always been lucky with finding partners—or rather, when it came to finding bed or sexual partners. He'd often bring those one-night stands or partners to your shared apartment only to have sex with them. Logan had never been the type to stick with one person, always preferring flings over long-term relationships. Or so you thought.

You, on the other hand, had always craved a long-term relationship. You dreamed of finding your true love—someone to share adventures with, to have fun with, and to dive into deep, meaningful and random conversations. You loved the idea of being with someone who let you be your true self, where you could spend hours talking about the most random things—discussing your favourite TV shows one minute, and passionately criticising capitalism and the world the next. You were all about affection, from kissing to being held, but you also longed to hold your partner close and make them feel cherished, just as much as you wanted to feel loved in return.

Unfortunately, you had never had the chance to experience anything like that.

It wasn't like you had never had the chance or had the opportunity to explore and possibly experience a potential relationship. You had just never been really interested in creating a relationship with a stranger.

Plus the thing was, your best friend wasn't just your best friend. You had been in love with Logan for god knows how long.

Charles Xavier was the one who had introduced you both, years ago. You remembered that day very vividly.

You had just arrived at the Xavier Institute, and the professor had offered you a two-sided job, to be a teacher at the school and be part of the X-Men.

You'd always done your best to keep your powers hidden, but being welcomed into a school designed for people like you—a mutant—felt incredibly liberating. That's why you hadn't hesitated when Charles Xavier invited you to his school. You'd always known you were powerful, with the ability to control and manipulate water, but you had kept your abilities a secret, not wanting to be treated any differently in a world that didn't really like or understand people like you.

As the professor took you around the grounds, you couldn't help but be impressed by how big and beautiful it all was.

You were so captivated by the mansion's grandeur and stunning architecture that you didn't even notice a guy casually leaning against the nearest wall outside of Charles's office. But the moment your eyes met his, it felt as if time itself stood still. Looking into Logan's eyes, you felt like you could drown in them. You had never seen anyone so effortlessly handsome.

Completely entranced by him, you almost forgot to introduce yourself. Your body heated up in the moment, and the professor definitely noticed. Logan Howlett gave you a knowing smirk, making the warmth inside you intensify even more.

That day you both became friends, though you still didn't quite understand why, given how different you both were. Logan was gruff and blunt, while you, though capable of being direct, tended to choose your words more carefully. He was passionate and strong-willed and opinionated, and sometimes he let that get the best of him. You were deeply in tune with your emotions, while he always seemed to hold back, keeping certain feelings tightly guarded. Logan was never one to be very straightforward with his emotions. He would rather keep most of them to himself, and didn't want to seem too vulnerable. Communication was something you valued and needed a lot, but Logan, by contrast, didn't seem to rely on it as much. You were an overthinker, always caught up in your thoughts, and he would often step in to ease those worries of yours.

You could say that opposites attract.

Over time, your friendship grew, and one day he asked if you'd like to move in with him into a new apartment near the institute. He craved a bit more peace and genuinely enjoyed your company. It seemed like a good idea, so you thought, why not?

You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with your roommate. All you knew was that one day, you were suddenly overcome by an emotion so intense, it was unlike anything you'd ever felt before. It hit you all at once. Before Logan, you'd never really had a serious crush, never experienced feelings this powerful for anyone. You often told yourself it must have started shortly after you moved in with him, but deep down, you knew that wasn't the truth. This feeling had been quietly growing from the very first moment you met him, slowly building until it became impossible to ignore.

It was funny, you thought, how life had a way of bringing you things—and people—you never realised you needed. People like Logan, who became so essential that you couldn't help but wonder how you had ever lived without them. People like Logan Howlett, who somehow managed to be both your saving grace and your greatest temptation.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A few months into your roommate arrangement, you still couldn't get used to Logan constantly bringing one-night stands to your shared apartment. It was pure torment.

As you ate cereal at the kitchen island, one of Logan's many one-night stands quietly slipped out of the apartment. You rolled your eyes, as Logan routinely walked them through the apartment to the door, their faces often adorned with sly smiles as they fluttered their eyelashes at him. A knot of anger twisted in your belly as you watched them play with the collar of his shirt, their fingers lingering while he made no move to pull away. You'd never felt such intense rage before. He responded with a grunt as they would casually give him a goodbye kiss.

You hated experiencing feelings like these. It was a gross emotion, a heavy sensation that felt thick and tar-like, clinging to your chest and making you ache with its heavy weight.

Anxiety? Sure, you were often more anxious than most mutants, but that wasn't the feeling you had at this moment. Maybe it was jealousy? You disliked how that emotion fit so easily on your tongue, leaving a bitter taste.

Each time you witnessed these scenes unfold, jealousy and frustration would wash over you. Or how you'd feel utterly awful whenever you accidentally overheard them having sex.

As Logan reentered the apartment and closed the door behind him, you couldn't help but snort. “So, what number are we up to now?”

He stared at you for a moment, before chuckling and shaking his head with a smirk. “Not sure, lost count.” He shrugged, grabbed an apple from the fruit basket on the kitchen island, and took a bite.

“What was their name?” you asked, staring daggers at your bowl of cereal.

Logan shrugged again. “I don't know, and honestly, I don't care,” he replied curtly before walking away.

You couldn't understand how he could be so nonchalant about this situation.

It wasn't just jealousy; you longed for any kind of affection or love from Logan, more than you ever thought possible. You were grateful to be his best friend and you knew it might seem foolish to hope for a chance with him, but you couldn't help yourself. Deep down, you feared you'd always feel this lonely, believing you could never fall for anyone but him. He was everything you craved and needed in life.

You felt foolish, constantly embarrassed and rejected. More than anything, you felt hurt, knowing that you were the only one to blame. It was your own feelings that had caused all this pain.

The thought of him one day falling in love with someone else made your stomach sink, but you pushed and suppressed your sadness aside daily. It didn't really matter—Logan was free to date whoever he wanted. He was your best friend, only his best friend.

One day, you'd have to come to terms with the fact that he would always be just your best friend.

You just hoped that one day it would become easier to deal with these feelings.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It was the middle of a cold winter night — the air cool against your skin, even with your large pink puffer jacket to keep you warm. The thick curtain of night enveloped the sky, painting it a deep midnight blue, with stars twinkling like the clearest diamonds. Despite the cool ambient air, you found yourself relaxing, your shoulders gradually easing.

“You see that there?” you pointed up at the starlit sky, leaning unconsciously into Logan's warmth as you both lay on the grass of the X-mansion grounds. “That's the Pleiades. People often mistake it for the Little Dipper, but it's just a star cluster.”

Logan hummed, but his eyes were focused on you, how you gazed up at the stars with an awestruck expression. A gentle smile tugged at his lips, as he enjoyed how you looked so endearing as you were so engrossed in the stars that you loved so dearly.

He glanced up at the part of the sky you were pointing to, located the cluster of stars you had mentioned. He studied it for a moment and thought he had seen something similar to the Pleiades before, but never illuminated in the night sky like this. Logan's gaze then returned to the earth, settling back on the grass where he lay beside you.

“Beautiful,” Logan whispered as he stared at you. “Truly beautiful.”

You were too busy gazing up at the sky to realise that he wasn't talking about the sky.

For as long as you could remember, you had loved the night sky, finding its dark embrace profoundly comforting. More than that, you adored the stars—coming out at night to bask in their radiance, with their distant coldness soothing your soul.

You had always felt so mesmerised about the universe, especially the stars and the moon. They appeared beautiful, glittering magnificently beside one another as they hovered in the upper stratosphere.

“Why did you bring me out here, Lo?” you finally asked, looking up at your best friend. You noticed him smirk down at you and saw a fleeting hint of hesitant insecurity in his green eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

He shrugged against you, still grinning. “I know how much you enjoy stargazing, and I'm aware you've had a rough week, so I wanted to give you a chance to relax for a bit.”

You softened as you gazed up at him. Logan was right—you had been having a rough week. The children had been sweet, but the workload had been overwhelming. You couldn't help but appreciate how Logan was always looking out for you.

“Thank you…” you whispered.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He winked before he looked back up at the sky. “Why don't you show me another constellation?”

You giggled as you pointed out another cluster of stars, but more often than not, Logan found it hard to focus on the stars. After all, he had a bright light of his own by his side daily that captured all of his attention.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A year had passed since you moved in with Logan, and autumn was already around the corner. The temperature was gradually dropping, and the air became crisper. The trees' leaves were starting to fade from vibrant greens to tamer shades of bronze and gold. You had always loved this time of year—it was that perfect season where you could bundle up in layers when you were outside, then retreat indoors in the evenings, getting cosy with a hot chocolate and a good book.

It was during seasons like this that you found yourself wishing you could cuddle up with someone, enjoying a movie or simply each other's company. But it wasn't just anyone you wanted by your side—it had always been Logan for you.

For the longest time, you were content in just keeping all your feelings hidden. Lately, though, the longing had been getting harder to bear. Wanting someone you knew you couldn't have was starting to feel unbearable, slowly eating away at you. And even though you knew he could never be yours, it didn't stop you from savouring the sweet ache in your heart every time he smiled or when he pulled you into a warm, platonic hug.

All the stupid fluttery feelings in your stomach every time his eyes would catch yours, or the way your heart beat fast whenever you were in close proximity to him. You knew it had been years since you'd known Logan, but you couldn't help the effect he always had on you. The way he left you yearning for more. But, of course, you tried to bury those feelings down deep, reminding yourself that Logan could never feel the same way about you as you felt about him.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

One lazy afternoon, with no classes scheduled for you to teach, you found yourself by the lake on the X-Mansion grounds, practising your water bending. The water flowed seamlessly around you as you moved your arms, bending it effortlessly to your will. As you went through each movement, you could feel a pair of eyes on you, observing every precise motion, your muscles tensing with each fluid shift. A light sheen of sweat formed on your brow, and your face held a fierce look of concentration as you focused on perfecting your stance and movements.

Several moments had passed, and the person watching you still hadn't spoken a word. By now, you were almost certain it wasn't just anyone—it had to be Logan. Anyone else would have said something by now, maybe greeted you or asked about your training. But not Logan. He had a way of lingering in silence, watching you in that quietly intense way of his, never feeling the need to fill the space with unnecessary words.

“Well, are you just going to stand there and stare, or do you plan on saying something?” you asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Logan grunted, “I think I'll just keep watching. I quite like the view from here.”

A flush of warmth spread across your face, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach at his words. You hesitated for a moment, pausing your movements before he spoke again.

“Don't stop on my account, sweetheart.”

You knew he was wearing one of his signature grins, and you so desperately wanted to wipe it off his face. As you grew more flustered, a wave of frustration built up inside you—how could this man always have such an effect on you? An idea sparked in your mind, a mischievous smirk tugging at your lips. Deciding to continue your water bending practice while he watched, you let the water flow effortlessly around you, fully aware of his eyes tracking your every move.

Once a peaceful stillness settled in the air, you saw your opening. Without warning, you spun around with swift precision, bending the water toward him and drenching him in seconds.

Logan stood there, completely perplexed as you broke into a fit of giggles. He was drenched from head to toe, and you knew it wouldn't be long before he sprang into action. Sure enough, just seconds later, he smirked again, though this time it carried a sharper edge. “You think this is funny, bub?”

“Yeah, I kinda do,” you replied between laughs, unable to contain yourself.

But then, Logan's grin turned devious, and with a determined march, he began closing the distance between you. Your eyes widened in realisation, and without thinking, you bolted away.

“You're not getting away with this, princess,” he called out, his voice low as he gave chase.

He moved swiftly through the gardens, but you were quicker, slipping just out of sight every time he got close. His eyes darted around, scanning the area, frustration slowly turning into determination. You could hear him muttering under his breath, his footsteps getting louder as he searched for you. Your heart raced as you ducked behind a tree, trying to stifle your laughter. The thrill of the chase had adrenaline coursing through your veins.

For a moment, you thought you had lost him, but then he sniffed and just as you peeked around the tree, you saw him spot you from across the grove. His eyes gleamed with mischief as a smirk curled at the corner of his lips. “I got you,” he muttered before he moved towards you with renewed speed. You tried to slip away again, but it was too late—he had you cornered.

Soon enough, two strong arms caged you in, trapping you between the tree and his chest. A startled yelp escaped your lips as you tried to back away, only to realise there was nowhere to go. “Gotcha,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, the familiar playful glint in his eyes making your heart race even faster.

You squirmed, trying to find a way out, but his grip tightened just enough to keep you in place without being overbearing. “Logan! Let me go,” you protested, laughter bubbling up in your throat despite your attempt to sound serious.

“Thought you could get away that easily, huh?” he teased, leaning in so close that you could feel his wet clothes and the warmth of his body. The heat from his proximity spread across your own, making you acutely aware of how close you were. You bit your lip, your cheeks becoming hotter as his smirk widened. The sight of your flustered expression seemed to delight him, his satisfaction evident in his playful gaze.

“Well, this is cosy,” you remarked, but your voice barely rose above a whisper. There was a tremor in your tone, one that matched the rapid beat of your heart.

“Hm, I think so too,” he responded with the same teasing tone. You gazed up at him with bright eyes as the golden hour of evening cast a warm glow around you both. It took all his willpower not to look away, not to acknowledge the tension that hung thick in the air.

You shifted against the tree, searching for a different way to elicit a reaction from him. Your touch light, almost accidental, but it sent a shockwave through him, his breath hitching in his throat. You could feel him stiffen, sensing the tension as he reacted to your contact.

He leaned in, just enough that he could feel your breath against his skin, just enough that the space between you became almost non-existent, and just enough to hear your breath hitch.

Logan closed his eyes, as he pressed his forehead against your own. Every time he tried to speak, the words got tangled up in the mess of emotions swirling inside him. All he could think about was how close you were, how your touch burned through him, how the smell of you, that unique soft scent of yours, filled his senses and made him want to lose himself in you.

“Lo—”

Before you could finish, Ororo's voice rang out, calling your name. You felt a wave of disappointment wash over you as you realised your moment with Logan was interrupted. You had forgotten about the promise to cook together with her and Jean, and your friend's timing burst the bubble of what you thought might finally be a shared moment with him.

He grunted in frustration, pulling away from you and looking off to the side. Ororo, Jean, and even Scott soon found their way to you, their presence drawing closer. As they approached, each of them wore a grin that suggested they had noticed the tension between you and Logan. The air was thick with unspoken understanding, and it was clear that your friends had picked up on the charged moment that had just been interrupted.

You cleared your throat and stepped reluctantly away from Logan, trying to regain your composure. You forced a smile as you addressed your friends, saying, “Sorry to keep you guys waiting.” You then walked away with Jean and Ororo towards the mansion, though you couldn't help glancing back over your shoulder. Each time you looked, a hint of longing appeared on your face as you cast a final, wistful glance at Logan.

As you walked away, you heard Scott remark, “You look wet.”

Logan responded with a huff, “Fuck off, Summers.”

You couldn't help but wonder what would've happened if your friends wouldn't have interrupted you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It had been Friday evening, and you were in your office at the institute, finishing up grading the last of the papers while waiting for Logan. The two of you had plans to head home together, but he had yet to come and find you. Growing impatient, you decided to look for him yourself. You grabbed your bag and jacket before going out of your office, closing the door silently behind you. The smell of stew wafted through the mansion as you jogged down the stairs from your office to the kitchen. You quietly approached and paused when you saw him with Jean. She was chopping vegetables, while Logan leaned against the island, holding a cup of coffee.

“I don't see why you don't just do it. Everyone can see how perfect you two are for each other,” Jean had sighed.

Your eyes widened and you bit your lip nervously as you instinctively hid behind the wall. You truly hoped Logan wouldn't smell your scent while hiding, considering his heightened sense of smell. You knew you shouldn't be eavesdropping, but your curiosity had gotten the better of you. Jean's words had left you intrigued about what they were discussing.

Logan huffed, “I've already told you—” he tried arguing, but Jean cut him off mid-sentence.

“Logan, come on,” Jean said pointedly. “You keep denying it, but everyone here has seen the two of you dance around each other for years. You can't honestly tell me that you're just friends. Friends don't act the way you two do with each other.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Logan asked, tilting his head to the side. Your stomach churned as you realised they were talking about the two of you. Silently, you pressed your back against the wall and shuffled further behind it, continuing to listen.

“It means that friends don't stare at each other longingly, or they don't flirt with each other, and they certainly don't cuddle together while sharing the same bed,” Jean said, emphasising her point as Logan began to argue. “Besides,” she continued, “you've known her for a while now. There's no one you've been more comfortable with than her. We all know you'll look after each other and be happy together. So why haven't you done anything about it? All we want is for you both to be happy,” Jean concluded.

You bit your lip at her words, feeling a mix of hope and nervousness churn in your stomach. With trembling fingers, you held your breath, waiting for Logan's response. When you heard him sigh, you felt your world begin to crumble around you.

“Yeah, but Jean, it's not like that. We are not like that. We're just friends,” Logan had replied. You had pressed your teeth harshly into your lip, biting down so hard you feared you might draw blood. It was the only thing keeping you from sobbing out loud. Logan's words replayed over and over in your mind. While you had always known he felt that way, hearing it confirmed so casually had left your heart breaking.

Not wanting to listen any longer, you silently turned and hurried toward the main entrance, trying to be as quiet as possible. Once outside, tears flooded your vision as you ran to the mansion gates, searching through your bag for your phone to call a cab. Since you hadn't brought your car and had driven in with Logan that morning, calling a cab was your only option.

When the cab finally arrived, you slid into the backseat and gave the driver your instructions. As he drove you home, you took a deep breath, struggling to swallow the lump in your throat. Your breath came in labored gasps as you fought to keep from breaking down in tears. Your mind was running a mile a minute as you tried to process his words. Silently you let the tears flow down your cheeks.

When you arrived at your building, you paid the cab and noticed your phone buzzing incessantly. You quickly silenced it as you entered your apartment, not bothering to look at who was trying to contact you.

Once you entered your bedroom, you broke down just then as you let out a choked sob while stripping off your clothes. With great effort, you managed to put on your pyjamas before climbing into bed. Soon, you would let your destructive thoughts take over. Deep down, you knew you shouldn't have eavesdropped on their conversation and jumped to conclusions, especially since Logan wasn't done speaking with Jean. But you couldn't bear to stay and listen any longer. You felt too vulnerable as you let his words echo inside your head.

You had been ignoring all the texts from your friends and the calls from Logan specifically, too drained to even hold a conversation.

Eventually, you felt sleep overtaking you, utterly exhausted from a long workweek and an emotionally draining evening.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

That same night, you had jolted awake to the sound of a loud rumble. Outside, storm clouds loomed ominously over the city, with thunder crackling through them every few minutes. The storm had been raging outside your apartment, with thunder booming so fiercely it shook the windows. Curled up in your bed, you had whimpered softly, clutching a thick blanket tightly around you—not just for warmth, but for comfort and a sense of protection.

You had never liked thunderstorms, and by now, you must have tried a thousand different ways to distract yourself from them. You'd put on headphones to drown out the noise, but the knowledge of the storm outside still fed your anxiety. Thunderstorms always had a way of making you feel small and utterly helpless.

You felt a tightness building in your chest as you trembled beneath the sheets. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing and calm yourself down. In moments like these, you felt truly helpless. You knew you shouldn't feel ashamed for being this terrified, but you couldn't help it.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the song playing through your headphones, desperate to drown out the storm. Moments later, you felt the bed dip. Slowly, you opened your eyes and found Logan sitting at the end of your bed, his soft gaze fixed on you with a look of quiet concern. A wave of relief washed over you just at the sight of him. Part of you wanted to ignore him and continue being upset with everything that had happened earlier that evening, but you couldn't find the power to do so. After all, he probably didn't even know why you were upset and who were you even kidding, he was everything you needed.

He was sitting there shirtless, dressed only in a pair of grey sweatpants. His hair was tousled from sleep. If it weren't for the sheer terror you felt because of the storm outside, you knew your cheeks would be burning at the sight of him like this. You noticed his mouth moving and, reluctantly, you slid one headphone off your ear to hear him.

“W-what?” you squeaked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Sweetheart,” Logan whispered cautiously into the darkness.

At the sound of his voice, the tears that had been brimming in your eyes finally spilled down your cheeks. “I'm so sorry, I feel so stupid,” you whispered, taking off your headphones and quickly trying to wipe your tears away, embarrassed by your emotions and the fact that you were terrified by the storm.

Seconds later Logan was climbing up the bed and he was lying right next to you. His strong arms wrapped around your shaking form almost immediately, holding you tightly.

“Shhh it's okay sweet girl, I've got you,” he whispered softly as he kissed your temple. Warmth spread through you at the action and you melted into his embrace.

“I hate being scared of them, Lo,” you mumbled into his chest as he squeezed you tightly.

“It's okay princess, I got you. I won't let anything happen to you.” His hands, surprisingly soft, were stroking your skin in a soothing manner as he continued to press soft kisses around the top of your head.

As Logan held you, you felt yourself slowly begin to calm down. Even though the storm showed no signs of letting up, his presence made you feel much more at ease and secure. Logan meant everything to you—he was your anchor.

“Please, stay,” you whispered as the last few tears slipped down your cheeks.

In the dark, Logan whispered your name and tightened his embrace. “I'm not going anywhere, baby girl.”

As Logan held you close, you felt your body relax gradually. He gently ran his hand through your hair, pulling the covers over both of you and adding an extra layer of warmth.

You reflected on how he often spoke to you and the way he treated you with such care. You couldn't help but overthink his sweet and gentle treatment. You knew you were more emotional and needed extra reassurance and patience, but you had never considered that he might actually have feelings for you beyond friendship. You often felt like a burden to your friends and especially to Logan. You were fairly certain you were the only one he treated this way. His teasing sometimes seemed like it could be flirting, and despite your attempts to deny it, deep down you sensed that you were somehow special to him.

But another part of you couldn't shake what he had said earlier that night to Jean. You felt deeply conflicted and confused about everything happening between the two of you. The uncertainty and mixed emotions left you struggling to understand his true feelings, unsure of how to navigate the situation.

So you did what felt best to you, which was communicating. Even if you hated confrontation so much, you hated being unsure even more.

“Lo?” your voice trembled as you whispered against him.

“Yeah, sweet girl?” He said gently.

You took a little longer to respond, lost in your own thoughts, overthinking everything. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest. Sensing your hesitation, Logan spoke up again, breaking through your spiralling mind.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice lingering in the air as your eyes fluttered open. His head was tilted slightly, worry etched across his face.

“'M-am fine… I just—” you stuttered, your voice cracking. Logan stared at you, waiting patiently for you to finish. “I need to talk about something, or-or it will probably eat me alive if I don't.”

Logan's brow furrowed as his concern deepened, but he remained patient, waiting for you to continue.

“I- I overheard you and Jean earlier tonight…” your voice barely above a whisper.

Recognition settled over him at your words. He sighed shortly after. “What exactly did you hear?”

“You said…” your voice faltered, cracking slightly before you took a deep breath, closing your eyes. “You said we weren't like 'that,' and that we were just friends. After hearing that, I couldn't stay. It hurt too much.” You paused, your words tumbling out in a rush. “I know I shouldn't have eavesdropped, and I'm sorry... I just—” Your voice trailed off as you buried your face in his chest, your rambling finally coming to an end.

He let out a deep sigh, pulling you closer into his embrace. One of his hands gently cupped your cheek, causing your breath to hitch at the contact. “Sweetheart,” he said, his voice steady but filled with warmth. Slowly, you opened your eyes, tears welling up as you met his gaze. Logan's expression softened, and he let out a soothing sound. “Angel, if you'd stayed a little longer, you would've heard the rest of the conversation.”

“W-what?” You squeaked, your heart pounding against your chest as you anxiously waited for him to continue.

“First of all,” he began, locking eyes with you as he spoke, “I told Jean that I couldn't tell you how I felt because I never thought you'd feel the same way. I figured you were better off not knowing how I feel about you because…” His voice faltered for a moment, a heavy sigh escaping him before he continued, “I've always believed I didn't deserve someone like you. Someone so beautiful, so patient, intelligent, caring and so sweet.”

“Lo—” It was difficult to process everything he had said. You had been so sure that he didn't feel anything more than platonic for you, so hearing that he did was overwhelming and you needed to let it sink in. “I just thought... you know, with all the people you've had over in the past, you wouldn't feel anything for me,” you said, your sadness making it hard to finish the sentence and your nerves bracing for the words you had been dreading to hear.

“I know it sounds stupid, but I kept convincing myself that if I would have meaningless sex with random people that I would get over you. That if I told you how I felt, I’d lose you,” he went on, his vulnerability tugging at your heart. “That’s the last thing I want. You mean too much to me to risk that. I love you, and the thought of losing you—even if it meant not having you the way I wanted—was unbearable.”

Tears welled in your eyes, slowly slipping down your cheeks as he poured out his heart, leaving you in disbelief. You hiccuped through your tears, “You... y-you love me?”

His expression softened further as he took in your puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Gently, he used his hands to wipe away the tears that were slipping down your cheeks, handling you with far more tenderness and care than you had shown yourself earlier.

“Of course I do,” he replied softly. “In every universe, there's no one I love more than you.”

“Logan, you deserve me. Just as much as I deserve you,” you said, cupping his cheeks as tears continued to stream down your own. “You don't have an idea how much I love you.”

Logan smiled softly before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. His arms tightened around you as he began to pepper your face with tender kisses. You couldn't help but giggle against him, feeling the tension between you both melt away bit by bit. The tears slowly came to a stop.

As the emotional intensity of the moment subsided, you felt a sense of relief and contentment. The storm outside seemed to fade into the background as you basked in the warmth of your newfound understanding. You knew that challenges would still come, but facing them together felt infinitely more manageable now that you had acknowledged your feelings for each other.

After placing a final kiss on the tip of your nose, he pulled back, his gaze filled with such deep affection that it left you feeling overwhelmed—but in the best possible way.

Logan caressed your face with fondness as he admired you. “You’re beautiful.”

You’d feel flustered instantly. “You’re so handsome Logan.” You whispered timidly.

“Really?” He’d smile down at you.

“Yes,” you whispered, continuing to meet his gaze shyly, your heart racing as his touch lingered on your skin.

You felt his hand slip beneath the hem of your nightshirt, his fingers tracing the soft skin of your back. A shiver ran down your spine at his touch, drawing his playful gaze as his eyes glinted mischievously. Your breath hitched when his other hand brushed against your bottom lip, sending warmth flooding through your body as his touch became more intimate, exploring you with quiet intensity.

“Do I make you nervous?” he teased with a devious grin.

“I guess you do,” you admitted, biting your lip bashfully.

“And why's that?” Logan asked, leaning in even closer. You could feel his breath against your lips, his nose brushing gently against yours.

There’s a moment of silence as Logan’s face moves closer and closer to your own, both unable to verbalise just how desperate either of you feel for each other.

His hands are warm as they wander all over your back, underneath the soft fabric of your pyjamas. Your eyes flutter close as you enjoy his attention. You feel yourself get lightheaded by his affection and by the close proximity of your bodies.

As your eyes remained locked with his, the intensity between you grew. You found yourself studying every detail of Logan’s face—the small moles scattered across his skin, his beautiful green eyes, the rough stubble along his jawline. Your gaze drifted from his eyes, down the slope of his nose, until you were irresistibly drawn to his lips. His mouth looks so inviting.

How much you’ve dreamed of having them on your own.

You swallowed dryly at the intensity behind his eyes, your heart beating madly in your chest. A flare of heat rushed to your cheeks as you resolved to reveal the truth. You didn’t want to keep it from him any longer, especially with him looking at you as if he was about to devour you.

“B-because I—” you finally spoke as you stumbled over your words. You felt weak in his presence, but in the best way imaginable. Heat spreads through your body, a feverish sensation overwhelming your senses. Your heart raced, refusing to calm down, and your limbs trembled uncontrollably. It wasn’t the kind of fever that came with illness, but a warmth—tingling, like anticipation coursing through your veins. You whimpered as the same warmth settled between your thighs. “I need y-yo—”

Before you could finish your sentence, his lips crashed onto yours, kissing you with an intensity and passion that left you trembling and helpless, while soft whimpers escaped your throat. He’d tug your body fully closer against his own as his mouth claimed yours.

All your thoughts overwhelmed your brain, disabling any rational understanding of what was going on. Gradually, you leaned into Logan, melting into his embrace. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him back.

Logan groaned as he continued to kiss you with a fierce intensity, giving everything he had. You felt his tongue tracing your lips slowly. Knowing what he wanted you parted your mouth slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue inside and swirl it around yours.

You absorbed all his passion, savouring the warmth of his closeness and the sensation of his rough yet soft hands holding you tightly. You didn’t want to ask how this was happening, nor did you dare question whether it was real or just a dream.

One of his hands roamed over the bare skin of your back beneath your pyjama shirt, leaving goosebumps in his wake, while the other explored the tender curve of your neck. He held you with such tenderness as his mouth continued to move ferociously against yours.

You whimpered against him as warmth and wetness continued to pool between your thighs, your pussy throbbing as his voice rumbled with a chuckle. “You okay there, kitten?” he asked softly, his voice low as his lips brushed against your jaw.

You knew he could smell your arousal, knew he could hear how fast your heart was beating. You bit your lip, trying to stifle another sound, and you tried to bury your face into his chest, feeling the heat spreading across your face and body. Logan was having none of that, his lips quickly reunited with yours. He groaned softly, a deep rumble in his chest, as you trailed your tongue out to seek purchase in his mouth, and he opened for you without hesitation. His hands gripped at your waist and brought your body flush against his.

You wanted Logan to consume your very being. Claim you as his completely.

Soft little noises of pleasure kept leaving your mouth as he continued to kiss you. His lips pressed against yours, guiding the kiss with a gentle control that made you melt into his embrace. You surrendered completely, letting him lead as you revelled in the sensation. He was so good at kissing that all you wanted was to stay in this moment with him forever.

He pulled away after what felt like hours to breathe, his warm pants fanning across your heated face. He was still holding your face with one hand, and his thumb on your cheek moved a little, stroking your skin with so much tenderness. Murmuring against your lips, he said, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. I love you so much.” before delving back in for more.

You whimpered as he nipped at your bottom lip, then gently swiped his tongue over it to soothe the sting. You gasped, and Logan seized the moment to explore the inside of your mouth with his tongue once again. As the kiss grew more heated, you moaned, feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

Surprisingly, you completely forgot about the storm that’s raging outside.

Logan devoured you, pouring all his love into you and claiming your mouth and kissing you with so much passion, your body shuddered with want, from the need for him. He moved his lips with yours and swirled his tongue with your own. His hand then moved to tangle in your hair as he pressed his body to yours completely.

Your hands moved to bury in his hair as well. When you pulled at his hair it was a bit rougher than you intended to and it tips his head all the way back and he lets out a loud, wanton moan that makes your whole body flush with arousal. You whined as he finally pulled away, as he left your body flush and panting and craving so much more.

His mouth then moved from your lips to your cheeks as he whispered his love for you again and again. He started trailing long, hot kisses down your jaw and neck. You whimpered pitifully as he suckled lightly on the side of your neck, tilting your head back instinctively to bare more of your soft skin to him.

“Fuck, baby, you’re everything.” He groaned as he bit down gently on the junction of your neck and shoulder. You cried out, impulsively grinding your hips against his own, desperately searching for some much needed friction against your throbbing clit. “You’re mine.” He’d growl against your skin.

You gasped, your eyes flying open when you felt his erection pressing against your pussy. You moaned as your core started clenching around nothing, begging for some attention, his attention.

Logan groaned as you continued to grind against him, grasping your hips into his hands to halt your movements. You whined in protest, as he then rolled you both over, hovering above you as he pinned your arms gently against the mattress.

“So needy.” He chuckled as a devious smile would grow on his face. “Does your sweet little pussy want some attention?” He grinned when you whimpered underneath him, before he continued. “I can always smell how much you need me.” He growled before he rolled his hips against yours again. “This virgin pussy is always begging for me to fill her.”

You didn’t have time to become embarrassed as high pitched whimpers slipped past your lips as he continued to grind against you. You’ve craved this man so bad, and now that he was yours you didn’t want to hold back anymore. He intertwined your hands together as he moved his big straining and clothed cock against your now soaked panties.

“Love those little noises you make for me, such a good girl.” He moaned against the skin of your neck as he pressed open mouthed kisses and licks across your skin.

You whined as he gave you a particular hard thrust. You could feel how massive he felt as he rubbed his cock against your clothed folds. You couldn’t deny that it made you nervous but all you could think about was that you needed and wanted him to take you so bad. More wetness would pool down your heated cunt as you fantasise about him filling your tiny pussy with more than just his cock. “Ah, n-need yo-you Lo…”

Suddenly everything became overwhelming, the temperature in the room rising quickly, the feel of his thick cock thrusting against you, the feel of his touch as it wandered all over your skin and the fact that you were going into a foreign but intimate territory with your best friend had you feeling hot all over.

His features softened as he took in how overwhelmed and flustered you looked. He slowed down his movements and one of his hands would move to hold your face as he slowly leaned down to peck your lips. “You’re okay baby girl, I’ve got you. I will take good care of you.” He whispered against your lips. His low voice sent a new wave of arousal down your body. “Tell me what you need, kitten.”

“You, I need you, Logan. I've always only needed you,” you whimpered against his lips as you reconnected them. His hands gently caressed your thighs, and your mind became hazy with intense lust and overwhelming love for him. Your brain instantly turned into mush as you continued to kiss each other passionately.

The kiss then increased with an intensity that had you gasping for breath. You rolled your hips into his, rubbing your throbbing clit against him for some friction against your core. You moaned into his mouth as you rubbed against him. The front of his sweatpants strained as he moved along with you.

As you kept losing yourself in the kiss, you felt his hands wander up your thighs up to the hem of your shirt. His fingers brushed delicately over the sides of your ribs, moving up and down your skin repeatedly, his fingertips mapping out every dip and curve as they wandered all over your skin.

“You're beautiful,” he whispered against your lips, admiring you, making you glance up at him shyly from beneath him. He pulled away just slightly only for him to hold the hem of your shirt, and you could tell what he was about to ask before he opened his mouth. You bit your lip and nodded vigorously, causing him to chuckle breathlessly. “You want me to take this off?” He questioned as he tugged at the fabric gently.

You nodded bashfully, unable to use or trust your voice during that moment.

He smiled softly, his hands gently brushing under your shirt before hooking his fingers into the fabric. Slowly, he lifted it, and you raised your arms to help him slip it off.

You felt heat rising on your skin the way his eyes roamed all over you, taking in every little detail. The way Logan was looking at you, eyes filled with nothing but love, adoration and lust, made you feel so alive.

He discarded the piece of clothing to the side and began mouthing along your collarbone with affection. You trembled underneath him as he showered you with his attention. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered repeatedly as his mouth travelled all over your exposed skin.

His large hands moved to the curve of your waist where it met your hips and clutched it, holding you tight as he littered damp kisses and nips to your shoulders and any skin along the way down to your breasts. You whimpered as he traced the tip of his nose over the swell of your breast.

He smirked as he looked up at you, breathing in through his nose as he inhaled your scent and you couldn’t help but shiver when he exhaled warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “Fuck, baby girl, you’re so hot.”

Then, he wrapped his lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucked and licked with passion.

“L-Lo,” you mewl as you try to grind your hips against him, your cunt seeking friction as it throbs with need.

“Feeling good kitty?” He quipped back as he grins up at you. You felt your skin flush with heat as you just stared down at him. Lust was written all over your face and he had no trouble reading your expression. So he resumed licking, long, lavishing licks with the flat of his tongue over your pebbled nipple as the other hand which was occupying your other breast, travelled all the way down to your panties.

As his fingers slipped underneath the band of your lacy underwear, down to where you needed him the most, his mouth fell open to unleash a loud groan onto your nipple as he felt your wetness, sliding his fingers between your soaked folds.

He explored your wet cunt patiently. Heat overwhelmed your senses as Logan continued to litter soft kisses all over your chest. Your hands found his head, running your fingers through his hair as his mouth continued to wander all over your naked skin.

Logan’s lips moved slowly down your body, kissing every little place he could find on your skin while his hands traced along.

Soon, he would retreat his hand from your heat, leaving you a whimpering mess. He then leant forward, his face meeting your sex, breathing in the smell of your pussy, running his nose against the damp patch on your underwear. You whimpered as he inhaled your scent. “Fuck kitten,” he growled as he couldn’t seem to stop smelling you. “This pussy smells so good, I can’t wait to taste ya.”

A devious smile played on Logan’s lips as he looked up at you through his eyelashes. “I am sure you taste just as good as you smell, if not better.” He groaned before taking your underwear between his teeth, while pulling it off your legs slowly. A shuddering breath left your lips, speechless as you watched him take off your lacy panties, becoming needier the longer you watched him. Logan kept looking at you as he slid down your body, pulling it off of you when it reached your ankles.

Once he took them off completely he gently pushed your legs wide for him, whimpering as the air hit your wet slit. He took a moment as his eyes took over you, your glistening centre clenching around nothing as he continued to stare at your wet hole. The man between your legs would moan at the sight. Not much later, Logan smirked as he kissed all the way up to your leg, taking his sweet time to give your body the attention you deserved. He pressed soft kisses from your ankles up to your knees, his hands moving along with his mouth, caressing the insides of your thighs as he gradually moved up your legs.

His lips lingered on your thighs, licking and sucking some kisses on your soft skin, Logan’s lips were so close to where you needed him the most yet he felt so far away.

“So pretty,” he murmured as he guided your legs over either of his shoulders.

You were about to beg as his lips detached from your thigh, only for moments later to feel him nuzzling against your pussy, smearing your juices across his lips and opening you up to his skilled tongue.

You gasp and squirm at the contact of his wet tongue.

He then pulls back for a second, “pussy tastes so good,” he moaned before his fingers moved to spread your outer lips for him. “But I think I'm gonna play with my girl for a bit.” Logan smiled as he slid a finger inside of you, watching the way your body squirmed at the sensation, moaning against the pillow next to you as you tried to muffle yourself.

You moaned as he moved his thick and long finger inside your tight walls. “So wet for me baby girl, you’re literally dripping on my finger,” he said before he pressed some kisses on your pubic bone, making you buck your hips in response. “Easy, kitty, we have all night.”

“L-Logan, please please I need more. Need your mouth and just. More. Pleaseeee need you so ba—” your whining got cut off the moment you felt his lips wrap around your clit, sucked it into his mouth, coaxing a loud but broken moan out of you. “F-Fuck!”

You felt like screaming, you didn’t know what to do with your hands, feeling so lost and overwhelmed with the pleasure Logan was giving you already. He dove between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance along with his finger before he travelled up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet appendage before sucking your button into his mouth.

The whine that came out of you only drove Logan to seek out more of those heavenly sounds. As his one single digit pumped in and out of you, you couldn’t help but appreciate that his fingers felt so much more pleasurable and thicker than your own. As bliss overwhelmed your senses, you felt your whole body start to tremble.

Your core began clenching around his finger, begging for more. He pumped his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace. Instinctively you tried moving your hips, slowly, grinding against his hand and mouth as he moaned. He gave you an intense look as he continued to fuck you with his finger. His eyes couldn’t seem to stay in one place as he admired how beautiful you were underneath him.

You were panting heavily, barely able to think straight, your mind turning hazy as he slowly slipped a second finger inside your tight channel.

Logan moved them slowly at first as your pussy tried to adjust to the addition. The stretch was overwhelming but oh so satisfying. Little whimpers left your lips as he fucked you with his fingers. He moved his face back to meet yours, engulfing you in a passionate kiss, swallowing all your little mewls.

You gasped, his tongue slipped inside your mouth, kissing you with so much passion, giving you everything he had to offer. “That feels good doesn't it, princess?” Logan groaned as his thumb made contact with your clit. You bucked your hips and nodded quietly. “Use your words pretty girl,” he taunted while he curled his fingers inside you as he played with the sensitive spot inside you.

“Yes, please please Lo, feels… so good.” You moaned loudly.

Soon his lips travelled all the way down your body as whines and whimpers left your trembling lips, silently begging for more — all while he was still finger fucking you.

Logan inhaled your scent as soon as he leaned forward, but didn’t let you wait in anticipation much longer. He wet his lips before his head dipped between your legs, warm tongue licking a slow stripe across your outer lips, all the way up to your button.

“Ah, fuck!” You cried out, your hips bucking off the mattress.

Squeaky, senseless noises bubbled up from your throat wantonly. Your hips stuttered against him and he just sighed like there was nothing in the world he'd rather do than this, eating you out on your bed.

You were a mess of his name, chanting and stuttering over and over again like a prayer. Your eyes squeezing shut to the point of tears, his mouth licked up your clit, as he continued to finger you while one of his other hands was holding your hip, pinning you to the soft sheets as you bucked into him, trying to urge him to do more.

The way he build up your arousal by pumping his fingers in and out of you, curling up ever so slightly to find the spongy spot inside of you. The familiar coil in your belly continued to build up as Logan suckled on your sensitive bud. Your abdomen tightened as he began quickening his pace again, his fingers hitting into that sweet spot with precision, had your toes curling as you clenched your thighs around his head.

Logan was lapping at you with determination, moving his fingers continuously as he slowly got you to the edge.

“Oh, my—”you whimpered, trembling digits sinking half into his brown hair and the other against your teeth, as you tried to silence yourself. “Fuck, aahh Logan, f-fuck…”

He moaned against you as his lips sealed around your clit and you bucked your hips at the action. Warmth spread throughout your whole body as he began talking you through it. “Fuckin’- you taste so good. Feels so good. You’re just… everything.”

You whimpered as he continued. “Come on,” he grunted as he pumped his fingers faster in and out of you. “Come on baby, cum for me.”

“Ah, d-daddy,” You gasped loudly as your whole body trembled even more, the hot familiar feeling continued to spread all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving at their own accord against Logan’s hand and face. Totally unaware of the word that slipped past your lips as your body tensed as he called you ‘a good girl’ and shortly after you came against his mouth and around his fingers.

“That’s my girl.”

Your whole mind felt like exploding and all you could see were stars. You felt so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you were experiencing. Your body still trembled as you felt yourself come down from your high.

As you slowly came back to your senses you felt him gently pull his fingers out of your pulsing hole. But you still felt Logan’s mouth on you, licking and sucking at your pussy and it didn’t feel like he was gonna stop any time soon. You whined as he moaned against you while he licked against your tight entrance, licking up your release, his tongue prodding your slick hole.

“‘S too much.” You whimpered at the overstimulation.

Logan ignored your pleas, moaning against your heat as he continued to eat you out. The man you adored so much between your legs kept sliding his tongue up and down your sensitive slit. Your little mewls and other noises of ecstasy spurred him on, to move his lips back up to your clit, sucking the nub softly between his lips.

“You love having daddy eat your sweet pussy don’t you?” He smirked, looking up at your flustered and embarrassed face as he continued licking your soaked cunt. “No need to be embarrassed, baby. I like it.”

The walls of your pussy clenched furiously, the empty feeling inside you intensifying with every lick, and as your wetness trickled out of you, your core practically begged him to fill it up.

“Oh sweet girl.” Logan tutted as you began grinding your hips against his face as moans kept spilling from your lips. “You’re so sensitive, kitten.” He chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your clit.

Eventually he leaned down, finally slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curled the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraged him to do it again and again.

Writhing below him, you felt him lick up and press against a sensitive spot inside that had you seeing stars, while your hips bucked against his face uncontrollably. Your fingers moved once again, gripping onto his dark hair rather harshly as you pushed your hips against his face shoving his tongue deeper inside your hole.

“Please,” you begged. “‘M close.”

“Please what?” He taunted as he continued to lick your heat.

“P-please,” you stuttered and paused before finishing timidly. “Daddy.”

“Good girl,” he said before plunging his tongue back inside you as his thumb came up to press against your little bundle of nerves. Moments later, the tension snapped inside your lower tummy, cumming with a loud whine, your hips stuttered as your vision blurred. You cried out his name, your voice unable to remain steady.

Your hips stuttered until the final waves of aftershock pass. As you slowly came back down to reality again while you tried to catch your breath, you heard him praising you softly while he continued to lap at your wetness gently. You whined and nudged him away with your leg, only to react with a chuckle.

“Taste so good, baby. Could eat your sweet pussy all day.” He grinned as he licked the wetness off his mouth. Logan smirked, holding eye contact with you as he brought his glistening fingers to his mouth.

You giggled as he licked his fingers clean, feeling slightly embarrassed by the action. Trying to hide your flushed face, you lazily raised your hands to cover it, but Logan wasn’t having any of it. With a gentle smile, he placed tender kisses all over your hands, pulling them down slowly. Then, he leaned in closer, pressing sweet kisses to your nose, your forehead, and both your cheeks before finally capturing your lips. Each kiss was playful, filled with warmth, as laughter bubbled softly between you, his grin widening against your mouth.

He pulled away with a satisfied sigh, a warm smile spreading across his face as he reached to touch the side of your neck, tracing his fingertips up and down.

You exhaled as you melted at the feel of his touch and kissed his thumb as it came to trace across your lips. Your shaky legs wrapped around his hips, and with a playful gleam in your eyes, you gave his thumb a tender lick, holding his gaze as you rubbed your still sensitive heat against his clothed cock.

“F-fuck, you can’t just do that kitten.” He groaned as his hands came to hold your hips, stilling your movements.

You whined, pouting as you looked up at him. “Why not?”

“It’s hard to control myself around you.” He grunted as he started grinding his cock against you. Your gaze wandered downward, following the line of the vein near his V-line as it disappeared beneath his grey sweatpants. You couldn’t help but whine underneath him as he continued to grind his covered cock against your growing wetness. You gasped after giving you a particular hard thrust, that’s when you realised and felt he wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath them. He felt massive. “I’ve been trying to control myself for years. I think I’d have to control myself a bit longer.”

“W-why?” you hiccuped as he kept rutting his hips into yours.

“Don’t wanna hurt ya.” He mumbled, as his cock strained against his sweatpants.

“But I know you won’t.” You said, your voice steady, filled with all the confidence you could summon. You watched as his jaw clenched, his grip tightening slightly as he held himself back, resisting the urge to just take you like he always wanted.

“How are you so certain?” His breath hitched when you tightened your legs around him.

“I-I, because I trust you.” You continued to stutter as you both rolled your hips against each other. His eyes darkened with desire, but you could tell he was trying to restrain himself, fighting against what he truly wanted, even though the tension between you was nearly unbearable. Still, you held his gaze, unwavering. “Because you love me.”

Logan groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep control, every muscle in his body tense with the effort. You could see the conflict etched across his face, the battle between what he wanted and what he was trying to hold back. His grip on you tightened slightly, a sign of the restraint still lingering in him, though it was slowly slipping away. His breathing was ragged, and for a moment, you thought he might give in. But then, he swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay still, clinging to the last shred of restraint that hadn’t left him yet. “You don’t know how hard this is,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice thick with desire. “How difficult it’s been, every day since I met you, trying to hold back while being around you.”

“I think I do, Logan,” you whispered, gazing up at him. “Maybe not in the exact way you feel it, but I’ve struggled too, convincing myself daily that I could never have you. And now, realising I could’ve had you from the start—it’s almost unbearable.” You bit your lip, noticing how his expression softened. “That’s why I don’t want us to hold back anymore. I don’t think I can endure it any longer. Please, I need you, Logan. I love you, and I’ll always want you—”

Your words were cut off as Logan surged towards you, cupping your face as he kissed you passionately. His lips moved fervently against yours, as if he was trying to make up for every moment of restraint. Making up for any lost time. The intensity of his kiss made your head spin, your heartbeat quickening as you melted into his embrace. His hands then started roaming around your body, his hold on you tightening occasionally, pulling you closer, while his breath grew heavy as you felt every emotion as he kissed you. You clung to him, pouring out every feeling and emotion out with every heated kiss.

“I love you,” Logan murmured between tender kisses, breathlessly whispering your name.

Your own hands began wandering all over his body and eventually down his solid chest until your fingers met his abdomen, slipping momentarily underneath the waistband of his sweatpants. With a mix of urgency and desire, you tugged at them while whimpering underneath him as you continued to kiss him deeply.

“Just relax, baby. I’ve got you,” he whispered softly after pulling away from the kiss. He eventually took it upon himself to slowly peel back, shuffling a bit to rid himself of the last piece of fabric on his body. He tossed it aside, fully exposing himself to your hungry eyes.

Your breath hitched, your eyes wide. Fuck, he was massive. Long and thick in all the right ways. Just as you thought, the vein between his V Lines moved down to his cock. A spark of heat shot down to your pulsing core as you imagined how he would fit or fill you up. But it was also accompanied by a twinge of nerves.

Logan chuckled as he moved closer to you, his lips chasing your own as he enveloped you in another sweet but deep kiss.

The two of you kissed languidly for a moment, treasuring the heat of each other's bodies as your lips slot together with ease, but soon enough the kisses become deeper, more frantic and hands start to grip tighter and legs tangling together.

It's like you're both starved, this insatiable hunger for each other.

You couldn’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his thick cock. You whined as it turned slick as you kept grinding yourself against him, and he had no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.

You gasped openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You were so wet. Logan swallowed your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against you. He kissed you full with fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.

He held his length in his hand as he kept rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you were squirming underneath him, and back down. The thought of his thickness finally entering your pussy made you wetter by the second, turning you more on. Logan swallowed your little mewls with his mouth, his hips rolling with yours.

You were trembling against him, full of anticipation. His body covered your whole body with his. You writhed against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and consuming you with pleasure once again.

“P-please, Logan.” You stuttered, your body trembling underneath him as you waited for his next move.

Logan hummed as he concentrated while circling your clenching hole teasingly. You arched your back slightly as you whined, silently begging to finally fill your pussy the way you’ve always wanted him to do.

“Relax, baby girl.” He whispered after he licked and kissed underneath your ear.

“Please d-daddy, I-I need you.” You whimpered in anticipation. Logan would grunt loudly before nudging the tip of his cock against your soaked hole. Your legs trembled underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. “Want you to fill this little pussy. Need you t-to fill it with more than your cock. N-need your cum.” You whispered seductively against his ear as his last bit of restraint snaps.

At your words, Logan gradually put more pressure on your entrance making you whimper underneath him, once he finally slid his tip inside you, a gasp elicited from the both of you.

You’re aware this was just barely the tip of him, but you couldn’t help but feel the stretch burn already. Logan slid in so slowly it was agonising. You cried out as he gradually pushed more of his pulsing cock inside your own clenching hole. He was so big.

You tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling slightly as you whined underneath him. He panted along with you, his warm breath fanning over your face while he kept his forehead pressed against yours. The stretch stung, but his pace kept it bearable. He guided himself a centimetre further, then another, another, until you were digging your nails into his scalp, a gasp spilling from your lips.

His hips stilled instantly once he heard the pained noises falling from your lips. Tears began to prickle at your waterline, a combination of discomfort and the overwhelming feelings that were coursing through you.

“Doing so good for me baby,” he praised as he peppered your face with gentle kisses. “You’re doing so good for me.”

“Please,” you whimpered as your eyes fluttered close.

Logan continued to move almost painfully slow, letting you adjust to every centimetre of him. After a couple of seconds you were able to relax more into it. You whimpered, clutching his shoulders at the stretch, the heat in your abdomen growing as your walls fluttered around him, pleasure beginning to bloom in your stomach.

“So full…” you whined.

“Such a good girl,” he grunted softly. You think there wasn’t a possibility to get more wet but as he utters those words you felt your heat get even more wet. He leaned down as he kissed your lips gently, as he filled you up bit by bit. He hoped the sweetness of his embrace would soften the sting.

You’re trembling as you canted your hips up, begging for him to fill you to the brim, while you gripped the bedsheets between your fingers. “Please Lo, need more. I can take it, daddy.” You whimpered as you involuntarily and repeatedly tightened around his thick cock.

He groaned at your desperate whines, losing his composure momentarily as he thrust the rest of his length all the way inside your tiny hole. The head of his dick kissing your cervix once he bottomed out. You cried out as you were trembling underneath him, trying to adjust to his size while your pussy kept pulsing around his cock.

“Fuck, so fuckin’ tight.” He hissed as he let you adjust to his cock.

His lips came to press soft and tender kisses all over your face as he let you relax. Tears brimmed at the corners of your eyes as you continued to adjust around him. You felt so full, as if he was made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely had you seeing stars and digging fingernails into his shoulders. You felt one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reached up to your face.

His breathing was heavy as you squeezed his cock repeatedly. Small whimpers left your lips as you squirm underneath him.

You needed more.

You hadn’t even realised your eyes had drifted shut until you slowly opened them, gazing up at Logan with a soft, pleading look. “Please, Logan.”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated deep in his chest.

“Need more.” You whispered.

“Aww, does my sweet girl need me to move?” he teased, tilting his head with a playful smirk.

“Need you, please.” You begged as your pussy clenched around his thick cock rather hard which made him groan above you. “Please, I need you to fuck me so bad.”

His breath hitched as he exhaled shakily, before nodding quietly. Slowly, he started moving inside you, gentle but deep. One hand reached down to play with your clit, while the other one went to intertwine your fingers together, holding your hand tightly.

The sting hurt for a while, but it easily morphed into a more pleasurable feeling as he moved against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he was giving you was mixed between pain and pleasure.

He grunted as he dropped his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin just below it. Soon enough the pain would completely disappear and all you could feel was pure bliss.

Slowly, you were getting used to his girth, anticipating it every time he pulled out of you before moving forward. Your legs are splayed open on either side of his hips as he ground his cock into you. The angle was so good, gradually he would pick up his pace, leaving you a whimpering mess underneath him. As he fucked into you in languid strokes, the sound of slick skin and your noises of pleasure could be heard in your bedroom.

“How do you feel?” he whispered against your ear.

“Feels so good.” You moaned as you tightened around his cock, this time voluntarily.

You whimpered as he picked up the pace, angling himself in a certain way inside you. He finally leaned down to wrap his arms around you, the action elicited a gasp out of you as you grab at the sheets around you, as he fucked you harder and faster.

Every time he’d thrust inside you, his pelvic bone would drag along your throbbing clit, making you cry out his name in pure ecstasy.

“You’re taking me so well, sweet girl. Doing so so, good for me.” He whispered against your skin as he moved to nuzzle his face against your neck.

Soft grunts fell from Logan’s lips whenever he hit a specific deep spot inside you. You whimpered as his lips moved back up to your lips, enveloping them in a heated kiss. You melted completely against him, holding you close to him as he fucked you. He snaked one of his hands down between your conjoined bodies finding your clit as he rubbed two fingers over the sensitive nub.

At a certain point you felt him slide into a pressure point in your core and coupled with the way his fingers circled your clit, it had you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the pleasure he was providing you. The whimpers that fell from your lips became higher pitched as he picked up his pace.

“Feeling good, kitten?” He groaned, as his lips curled into a mischievous smile as he admired the way your face twisted in pure bliss. Too overwhelmed by the new experience. Filth and praise continued to come out of his mouth as he fucked you. “This pussy was made for daddy.”

His mouth covered your own instead as he swallowed all your little noises of pleasure, you could feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tighter with every movement and every touch.

Your whimpers, gasps of pleasure and pants increased as ecstasy and warmth overwhelmed your senses.

“Taking daddy’s cock so well, baby.”

His hands couldn’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You whimpered at the feeling of his speed, feeling another orgasm coming so close, eyes tightly shut and legs locked bruisingly around Logan’s hips. He could feel it too, in the way you clenched and squeezed around his length, and he began to drive even harder into your pussy as he tilted his hips gently, searching for the one place that he hoped would blow your mind.

“Ah, daddy��” you hiccuped as he fucked you so good you felt like a blabbering mess. “Need you to come inside my pussy...”

“Is that what you want?” He growled as you pulsed around him. “Can’t believe it… it’s your first time and you’re already begging for me to cum inside. So filthy. You’re close aren’t ya?”

You nodded furiously as your arms trembled as they wrapped around him, your nails digging in his back as he moaned on top of you. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, was tingling down to your legs, ready to snap at any moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “Bet you’d look even prettier with my cum inside your pussy. All full and messy.”

“Please…” you moaned as you thought about him filling you up. “Please Lo, baby, daddy… please fill this pussy up.”

He grunted as he buried his face into your neck as he fucked into you, making the whole bed rattle at his force.

“You want to cum pretty girl?”

You nodded frantically at his words while your eyes fluttered close as you bit your lip harshly. You were bucking up beneath him, nails digging into his skin even more as his hand moved back to your clit as another came to intertwine your hands together, pinning them to the bed. He rubbed your clit with enough pressure to ensure you’ll cum around him.

“Cum for daddy.” Logan demands softly.

And when he finally nudged against that spot inside you coupled with his deep voice– you were exploding, shattering, and detonating all at once, as you cried out his name. Blood was rushing so wildly in your ears that you couldn’t possibly hear the way you wail and sob as he crashed his lips onto yours, swallowing all your noises. Your head lolled back, your back arching violently as you twist and contort in pleasure underneath him.

“That’s it, good girl.” Logan moaned in your ear as your walls spasmed and pulsed around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pushing himself up as he thrust deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “You want me to fill this pussy up? Make it all messy?”

You were still in a daze but you were able to understand him so you nod vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. Your pussy squeezed around his cock in anticipation. “Please…”

“Fuck, take it baby.” It washed over him instantly, hips stuttering into you as he grew desperate, eyes squeezing shut when he felt his cock throb inside of you before hot spurts of his seed splashed along your walls, painting them in ribbons of white. The warmth of his seed filled you up and spread inside your pussy. The feeling made you whimper, limbs limp on the bed as he shallowly thrust into you, making sure you took every last drop.

His warm cum filled you up deeply, the mild heat of it settling deep inside you and causing you to squirm under him. Logan panted as he let his body slump against yours. He rested on top of you, trying to steady his breath. His cock was still nuzzled deep within you, still half hard as it kept his cum from leaking out.

It was a blurry haze when you came back to your senses, your whole body was aching whilst simultaneously feeling the most relaxed you've ever been, equally as exhausted as it was energised, and you didn’t bother trying to question why. Just pure contentment.

Once both of you caught your breaths, Logan leaned his forehead against yours before kissing you tenderly.

“That was…” He breathed, smiling tiredly at the complete dopey mess he's made of you; hair all over the place and eyes lidded heavily, heated skin glowing and your lips looking swollen from all the kisses you’ve both shared.

“Oh yeah, that was mind blowing.” Your voice came out hoarse, still recovering from the height and volume it had gone, and you cleared your throat gently before you smiled up at him.

“I love you.” He whispered before he captured your lips in a deep and lazy kiss. You could feel his soft mouth smiling against yours as you whimpered against him. You felt yourself melting against his embrace as he wrapped his arms around you.

“I love you too.” You whispered back against his mouth.

You shifted slightly when you felt that he was still hard inside you. Biting your lip, you squeezed purposely around him at the realisation. Logan groaned at the feeling, his large palms sliding up your sides in a soothing manner.

“Don’t do that.” Logan grumbled but you saw a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Why not?” You giggled as your hands trailed through his hair.

“Makes me wanna fuck you again.” Your boyfriend mumbled.

“Hm, that’s kind of the point.” You continued to giggle.

Logan chuckled as he pulled his head back, looking at you with a mirthful smile.

Before you knew it, he pulled out only to man handle your body in the position he wanted you to be. Manoeuvres your body until you’re on your tummy. His hands came to hold your hips, pulling them up, your ass in the air for him.

He kneads the flesh of your cheeks before spreading them apart for him. Your body slumps slightly forward with exhaustion but Logan is quick to grip your hips, holding you in the same position. “Oh kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He tutted.

Your cheeks flushed with heat as you prepared yourself for a long night filled with passion.

thank you for reading 🩷🩷🩷

edit: I started the part about round two but decided to not add to this post but if enough people are interested I’ll post a part two🩷

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 2 months ago

Text

moanin' & groanin' | logan howlett

pairing/AU: lumberjack!logan howlett/wolverine x inexperienced!female!reader

summery: working for your father's timber business isn't what you saw yourself doing, but when the wolverine comes looking for work it's suddenly not so bad – especially when he can teach you a thing or two.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! age gap (in the way that his mutant abilities prolongs his life), swearing, use of pet names, smut, car sex, praise, a little dacryphilia, logan's got a dirty mouth, soft dom!logan, a little size kink (basically logan has a big dick), handjob, fingering, a little manhandling, unprotected sex (don't do it!!), no use of y/n

a/n: um hi! this is my first ever logan fic. i really hope i got him right! not beta read, and barely edited so any mistakes are my own. happy reading! <3

main masterlist / ao3

The pages crinkled under your fingertips as you turned another page. Over the top of your book you could see your father's men milling about, getting the timber ready for another outgoing truck. Day in and day out they worked like flannel-covered ants.

He wasn't here, your father, leaving you to hold down the fort, or office to be precise, as he ran errands. "I'll be back before lunch," he'd told you, a hand passing through the sleeve of his tan Carhartt.

The office felt bigger when he wasn't here, like his neuroticism took up twice as much space as he did himself. You looked around the room. It was small, more like a hut than anything else, raised up on cinderblocks. A tiny kitchen lined the front wall, the refrigerator had given out once this month already and something smelled like it had died in there, the white florescent light under the wall cabinets gave you a headache, and the tap drip drip dripped. The table and the mismatched chairs, your father had found at a fleamarked years ago, before you were born most likely, and they wore the wear and tear of years of use.

Every available surface was covered in papers, and the wooden shelves on the wall dipped in the middle from the weight of the binders. When you were little you'd been afraid the wood would break in two, but they were still standing (hanging?) – maybe they'd stay like that for the rest of eternity for all you knew. Your father's office had only one desk, which made your job as occasional office manager and full-time problem solver, problematic.

Your father would sit in his chair on one side, while you'd steal one of the mismatched chairs and occupy the other end. If you'd had your way, you wouldn't be working here. The timber business interested you just as much as your father was interested in the disco they played on the radio. "If it ain't the king of rock I don't want to hear it," he usually said and switched the channel.

But the town was small, and no one was hiring. The summer after you'd finished high school you'd dreamt of moving to the city, but the money had been tight and your father needed you. At least the work, if your father didn't meddle, was relatively easy: answer the phone, type out the invoices and salaries, keep an eye on logistics, and make sure whatever breaks gets fixed.

The radio hummed at a low volume, one of the singles from Tapestry, as you turned another page of your book. Leaning back in your father's office chair, you glanced at the clock over the door. He should be back by now. Just as the thought crossed your mind, the door swung open.

"Did you need something?" you asked, your book dipping down in your lap.

Logan raised an eyebrow at you as he walked into the office on heavy steps, that damn cigar hanging out the side of his mouth. "Nice to see you too, princess," he poked jokingly, tugging at his gloves, one finger at a time, and tucking them into his leather belt.

He sported the same outfit he usually wore; bootcut jeans, a white t-shirt under his flannel and a thicker wool-lined jacket. He must've been sweating in here with that on.

Autumn had claimed the trees and ground months ago, but this morning the frost had covered the ground and bit at the apples of your cheeks. Your breath had come out in swirling plumes when you'd locked yourself in this morning; the first glints of the sun peeking through the windows as it rose over the mountains. The first thing you'd done was crank the heater, and now as you approached midday, you'd shed your sweater long ago while the windows had fogged with condensation.

The smallest of frowns tugged at your brows, as a heat prickled up your neck to your cheeks. Logan made you a little nervous– not in a bad way, but in a way where your thoughts would wander in his presence, conjuring up scenarios of him and yourself in… comprising positions. Okay, maybe it was in a bad way. But who could blame you when he walked around like that?

He'd arrived only a few months ago, at the tail end of the summer, looking for work. He was strong, stronger than any of the other men working for your father, and although the work was hard, it seemed like he never tired. You didn't know much about him and he kept mostly to himself, hidden away in a cabin up in the mountain, but sometimes you'd see him down at the local bar, nursing a glass of whiskey in one hand and a lit cigar in the other. More than once you'd seen him chatting up Kayla Silverfox, and more than once you'd wished it was you in her place.

"Oof," Logan groaned as he opened the fridge, grabbing his packed lunch and closing it as fast as he could. You appreciated him for that; whatever had died in there should stay in there.

"Yeah," you said, "I'm not cleaning that again, not even for a million bucks."

"Can't blame ya."

He looked to the table for a second where the guys usually ate their lunches, before he decided to take your usual chair at your father's desk. As he sat down, you pushed the ash tray to his side of the desk, earning you a short smile in thanks as he rested his cigar. It wasn't unusual for him to talk to you on his breaks.

So, why did you heart beat so fast in your chest?

Because it was the first time you'd been alone.

"So, where's your old man?" he asked and bit into the sandwich he'd packed in an old newspaper.

"Running errands– he should be back soon…" you trailed off.

Logan hummed non-committedly. "So, you're in here sittin' pretty readin' your book while we're out in the cold slavin' away– maybe I should become the boss' daughter."

"Well, it's not easy," you sighed, feigning confidence, "and you gotta be pretty first of all," you front teeth dug into your bottom lip as you tried to hide your nervousness.

"That's true," he grinned, "I ain't got nothin' on you, princess."

Logan held your gaze with intent, and it was like something in the air shifted. It happened sometimes with Logan, like he had this power beaming from him that sucked you in. Erratic wings fluttered in your stomach, and you had to drop your gaze.

"So, how's the book?" he asked, taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Eh," you shrugged, dog-earing the page your were on, before throwing the beat-up paperback on the table. "Too many plot twists– first they're on earth, then there's this virus spreading– so they have to move all of humanity to the moon, but then there's this species that lives under the surface of the moon who they start a war with, but one of the main characters are in love with a moonie– that's what they call them– so, now they're in love and trying to stop the war and…" you shrugged again.

Logan chewed slowly as he nodded his head. "Sounds complicated," he decided, making you let out a small laugh.

"I guess so."

A grin washed over Logan's face at your small laugh, and you felt his gaze roll over you, over your exposed skin. When he looked at you like that, like a predator drooling for a meal, you felt a small damp spot stick to your panties. You watched as his nostrils widened, his jaw clenching shut as a pulsing vein protruded from his neck.

"So, science fiction," he started, clearing his throat, "Didn't know you liked that," he continued between the last bites of his sandwich

"Some kid at the library recommended it," you shrugged, "so I thought I'd try it out. And it's not like it's that far from the truth– we've got mutants."

Logan crumbled the newspaper hard and quick, the sharp sound making you jump. "Yeah," he said, and stood to his feet, "That's true."

He grabbed his burnt out cigar, and threw the ball of newspaper in the trash. You started to wonder if you'd said something wrong, but then he said, "Your father's back," and not even a second later you could see your dad's old truck pull up outside the window.

How did he even know that?

"Logan– wait," the words just fell out of your mouth before you could even think them through. He hovered by the door, raising a questioning eyebrow at you.

You could be brave– Just say it!

"Come by later would you? Before you leave for the day– I have something for you."

A gush of cold air blew in with the arrival of your father. He almost crashed right into Logan on his way out, nearly knocking him down the wooden steps. You thought you could glimpse a small nod from Logan, but he was out the door so fast you couldn't be sure.

The rest of the day went by slowly as a growing anxiety gnawed at your neck. With your dad back you slipped out to borrow the car, driving into town to pick up some lunch at the local diner. It was routine at this point, something you did without thinking, but today your thoughts couldn't stay still. You were pulling up outside the office when you realized you'd driven the whole way with the radio off.

What was even your plan?

You wished you were better at this. You could pretend, sure, put on a brave face to hide the nerves from surfacing, but how do you get a man like that to go for a girl like you?

You felt non the wiser when the sun had dipped below the mountains and he finally knocked on the office door. Your dad had left thirty-minutes earlier, stranding you at work with no way to get home.

If this didn't go well, you didn't look forward to walking home.

"What 's it you wanted, princess," Logan asked, leaning against the frame of the door with one knee popped. Your eyes couldn't help but run down the length of him – his broad shoulders, the bulge hidden below his big belt buckle, and the veins of his exposed arms as he slung his jacket over his shoulder.

"Oh, um," you tried to shake your thoughts, and you rummaged the desk for the envelope. "Here," you said as you found it, stretching your hand out for him to take it.

He pushed off the door frame with a raised eyebrow, the cold air from the open door taking with it the warmth of the office. "What's this?" he questioned, taking the envelope from your hand.

"It's your check– for this month's work," you explained.

His raised eyebrow pulled into a frown, "This is a week early," he questioned, "and I usually get these sent in the mail."

"Oh, I-I just thought I'd give it to you personally this time," you lied, fitting a shrug at the end for good measure, trying to sell how completely normal and nonchalant you were.

Logan raised a skeptic eyebrow at you, and you suddenly felt really really stupid. In your chest your heart could compete with a hummingbird's.

"Really?" he said with a smile before he dropped his chin, "Can I appreciate a little extra something in here, or…?" he trailed off, waving the envelope.

Letting out a shaky inaudible breath, you tried in your flirtiest voice, "Maybe if you give me a ride home…"

...................

The lights from the town below looked like stars scattered over the night sky, the yellow light of the roads connected them like on a string. You knew that Logan knew where you lived; the town was small, and even with the short time he'd spent here, it wasn't hard to get familiar. He'd stopped at the lookout point, about half-way up the mountain road. It was nice in the daytime, with a nice view of the town, the mountain and rivers, but at night it attracted a different kind of crowd: lovers. It was cheesy, and cliché, but clichés were clichés for a reason.

The Led Zeppelin tape whirled, and the music stopped.

Suddenly you felt nervous, fingers picking at a loose tread on your sweater. Logan leaned forward to flip the cassette, and his truck filled with a sound of organ, like you were back in church. When he leaned back he slung his arm over your seat. You watched how he spread his legs, getting comfortable, as his eyes found your face.

Under the wool, your heart picked up its beat.

In a brave move you shifted closer, the leather seat moaning under you, as a pleased smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His big palm snaked around your shoulder, curling you closer to him until his lips caught your own. You only hesitated for a second before your hand found his neck, where your fingers tugged lightly at the hair at the nape of his neck.

A low growl huffed against your lips, and he deepened the kiss, pressing himself roughly against you as he licked into your mouth. You couldn't help the small whimper escaping you. His touch was rough, almost impatient, but tender all at the same time, and you felt yourself fall apart.

The air stuck to your skin, clammy and sticky with arousal and now you started to get impatient. With a loud smack you broke apart, your lips raw and spent from use as you caught your breath. A rough hand cupped your cheek, the pad of his thumb skated gently over your skin as he tilted your head towards him.

"Such a pretty little thing," he mused. His eyes had gone dark, pupils huge and filled with lust; yours must've looked about the same as they rolled down his body. He shifted closer to you, pushing you closer to the door, and you got a better view of the bulge hidden behind his jeans.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, clogging up the sounds around you like you were underwater, pushing at your thoughts at the back of your mind. Logan moved with such ease, each touch natural and easy, like he'd done them a thousand times. Not like you, with only your short-lived high school boyfriend under your belt.

"Hey," he shook your head gently, "Where you goin', bub?"

"I'm sorry," you whispered, a heat coating the apples of your cheeks.

He shook his head, his face surprisingly tender for someone so rough, "Tell me, baby."

"I'm just…" you trailed of, trying to find your words, "I'm a little nervous– I haven't done this much," you said, avoiding his gaze.

"That's sweet, bub." The pad of his thumb rubbed the pet name into your skin as he leaned forward to catch your lips in a soft kiss, "But I wouldn't worry that pretty little head of yours 'bout it."

His breath was hot against your own, and an ache started to spread between your legs. The hand on your cheek travelled downwards to tug at your jacket, and you parted only for a second to rid yourself of it, but before you could lock your lips with his again he grabbed at your hands.

"I'll teach ya," he told you and guided your hands to his broad form.

He let you touch him as he shucked off his jacket, your fingers dancing over the soft flannel. He was solid beneath your fingers, hard muscles from hard work. A patch of dark hair curled at his chest, peeking out beneath his white shirt, and you found yourself wondering where it lead.

Curling his hand around your wrist, he guided your hand lower; down over his chest where you could feel the solid form of him. His bronze belt buckle burned you like ice, but the heat of him as he pressed your hand to the hard bulge beneath the buckle burned even brighter.

"You feel that?" He looked you straight in the eyes. He pressed your hand down harder and you could feel the shape of him against your hand, hard and thick, and big. You barely managed a nod through the wave of heat coating your cheeks.

"That's because of you, princess." His voice was low, almost like a growl, as he started to guide your hand to rub over the thick length.

"Me?" you questioned, breathless.

"Yes, you," he chuckled, a heavy hand petting at your head. "D'you want to take it out? Stroke it f'me?"

"Please," you begged, looking at him with moony eyes through your lashes.

"So polite f'me," he mused, his hands tugging at his belt before he popped the button on his jeans. Slipping off your shoes, you crawled up into the seat, sitting back on your knees as you watched him pull at his jeans. Peeking out from under the denim, you could see a dark patch of hair.

Logan was in no rush, revealing only an inch at a time of the base of his cock, making a show of it as the tension rose. A wave of tickling arousal washed over you, and it made you brave, reaching a trembling hand forward, you helped him tug at the fabric.

At last his cock sprung free.

You felt your eyes widen at the sight, as you involuntarily squeezed your thighs together. Even with your limited experience, you knew he was bigger than most. The thick length of his cock bobbed from the weight, hanging heavy between his legs. At the tip of his fat head, a drop of precum pearled, almost invisible in the dark truck.

"Come here, bub." He widened his legs as he reached out a strong arm for you, curling you into his shoulder.

"Put your hand on it," he ordered, "like this," he grabbed at your wrist and guided you hand towards his mouth. You let him move you around, eyes blown out and wide as you couldn't take your eyes off his impressive cock.

A wet blob of spit pulled you from your thoughts, it drew the slightest frown over your face until he guided your palm, now coated in his spit, to his cock.

Under your palm his skin was silky soft, but hard and firm at the same time. You found yourself mesmerized at the sight of your hand around him as you familiarized yourself with the heaviness of him in your hand.

"There ya go–" he cut himself off with a groan as you formed a fist around the head of him. Your fingers struggled to reach around him, but it didn't seem like Logan minded much when you moved downwards smearing his spit over his shaft in an experimental tug.

"That's it, good girl, just like that."

A warmth bloomed in your chest at the praise, wrapping itself around your heart. You wanted him to say it again– to be good for him. So, you reached forward with your other hand, wrapping it around the base as the other formed a fist around the head. Another pearl of precum beaded at the tip, and you took the opportunity to skate your thumb over it, massaging it into his spit.

A growl seemed to get caught in Logan's throat, and still riding off your high that the praise had sown in you, you started to pump his cock in slow strokes. A slick sound escaped under your fists with each stroke, and you watched how his head fell back in pleasure.

"Am-am I doing it right?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

At the sound of your voice, Logan sat up straighter, a heavy hand falling over your back to pull you closer. "You're a natural, princess."

You couldn't contain the smile from coating your lips as he brought you in for another searing kiss. It was hot, and suffocating, and all-consuming, all at the same time. It clouded your mind, and you forgot what your hands were supposed to be doing.

Logan's hand travelled down your body, his big palm grabbing at your ass. "Take of your pants," he ordered against your lips, "Panties too," underlining his order with a couple of light slaps to the flesh.

Shuffling out of his hold, you fingered at the button of your pants, pulling at them and your panties as quickly as you could. Goosebumps prickled over your exposed skin, the air suddenly frosty without Logan's touch – but that didn't last long.

The calloused pads of his fingers trailed up your thighs, pressing down into the flesh as he pulled you closer to him. "Come sit in my lap, princess."

He didn't wait for you to move, instead he manhandled you how he wanted. Spreading his legs wide apart he fit you between his legs, your back pressed against his hot chest with his hard and leaking cock caged against your ass.

"I'm gonna touch you now, baby, okay?" his deep voice whispered in your ear.

"Okay," you peeped, heart pounding in your ears at this new proximity.

He spread your legs, putting your wet and neglected cunt on display, hooking them over his knees. When his palms danced over your inner thighs, you felt yourself sink deeper into his chest, deeper into the safe scent of pine and man.

"Need to get you ready f'me, bub– stretch this tight cunt out for my big cock," he cooed.

You ached for him, a sticky wet feeling between your legs as you wished so badly for him to finally touch you. His touch was light, but teasing, drawing circles along the thin flesh, circling closer and closer to where you needed his touch the most, before he pulled away.

"Please," you whined, grabbing at his arm.

His breath felt hot against your neck, and you could feel the grin he pressed against your skin. He let you guide him upwards to hover his large palm over your mound, but he wouldn't let you have it. Instead, he pushed at your sweater. His hand spread across the skin beneath your belly button as prickled goosebumps followed the rough pads as they ran across your skin.

"Y'gonna feel me right here, bub?" he teased, "So deep inside your tummy?"

A whine caught in your throat and you felt like an exposed nerve. Arousal pulsated throughout your body, threatening to pull you apart unless he did something soon. Your neglected cunt dripped with an ache only he could sooth.

"Yes, please, Logan," you whined, tears threatening to spill.

His thick beard scraped against your cheek, and you almost trembled from anticipation as he slid his hands downwards. He raked his fingers through the curls of your mound, and a gasp fell from your lips when he finally pushed at your clit.

A wide smile reached across your face when he started to circle his fingers, tight with the perfect amount of pressure. Your hips bucked to meet his touch, your cunt eager and dripping for more of him. His other arm clasped around your middle, keeping your still and steady in his lap as he had his way with you.

A bold finger dipped lower, running through your folds and teasing at you entrance. A slick sound filled the car as he played with your cunt, circling his fingers around your hole, dipping a teasing finger inside you just to the first knuckle, before withdrawing it just as quickly.

"Such a messy pussy," Logan murmured in your ear, the deep bass of his voice vibrating into your skin. "Listen."

The sound as he played with your pussy was obscene, lewd, and so dirty you felt a heat crawl up your chest. A breathy gasp escaped you when he finally split you on his finger, and a satisfied smile coated your lips as he started to move it inside in a steady rhythm, prodding every so often at that spongy spot inside, the spot your own finger couldn't reach.

"F-feels s-so good," you managed to stutter out.

The heel of his palm pressed against your clit with every thrust, teasing at your insides and conjuring moan after breathy moan from your lips. He guided you closer and closer to the edge, and you wanted so badly to fall. When he pulled out to slide another finger inside you, you felt a tear roll down your cheek with satisfaction.

"I can feel that pussy clenching me– you close, bub?" he poked, never stopping his fingers.

Your head rolled back, resting heavy on his shoulder as you nodded franticly, mouth parted slightly, humming out small breathy whines. You were so close, the tension in your stomach twisting and aching for release.

But then he pulled his fingers, dragging them up over your mound leaving a wet trail in your curls. You couldn't help the disappointed sigh as more tears pressed their way down your cheeks.

"Shh," he hushed you, "you're okay, bub."

Under you, you felt him move, his strong muscles flexing as he shifted you on his lap. When you felt the blunt head of his cock slide between your folds, an eagerness came upon you. You grinded against him, making a small chuckle rumble from his chest. Logan slapped his heavy cock against your folds, coating his big cock in your slick arousal.

The first stretch of him knocked the breath right out of you, the fat tip of him splitting you in half as he helped you guide yourself down on him. You had to remember to breathe, your hand fumbling for something to hold on to.

"Fuck," you whimpered, eyes wide, "I-it's so big– it's t-too big."

His hand wrapped around your middle held you in place, keeping you still on his cock as you adjusted to the first inches of him inside you.

"It's not too big, princess, you're doing so well f'me," he praised, "just a little more, bub– you can do it."

With a wet whimper you lowered yourself, taking a couple more inches of him, as Logan pressed more fluttering praise into your skin. He let you take your time, easing yourself down on him at your own pace. When your thighs were finally flushed with his, he was so deep inside you, you jolted, trying to move back up, but Logan's hands held you down. You felt him in your tummy, like he'd said, his cock reaching so deep you were shaking.

"Sit still, get used to it," he told you, as you tried to catch your breath, "You're being so good f'me."

And somehow the burning stretch of him soothed away into a pleasurable pressure, one you couldn't help but chase. With an experimental rock of your hips, you felt the fat head of him prod at your spot, making you mewl. And when you started to swivel your hips, Logan groaned in satisfaction, meeting your movement with small thrusts.

Slowly, he picked up his rhythm, strong hands shifted to dig into your hips, holding you in place for him to move you as he wished. In your ear, you heard him growl, deep and animalistic as he fucked up into you.

It didn't take long until your breath came out fast between moans as the pressure built, and built, and built.

"Logan," you moaned, tethering right on the edge.

Another growl escaped his chest, as his strong arms hooked under your legs. He pressed them tightly to your body as he picked up his pace, bucking wildly into your eager cunt. You could feel him throb inside of you, and you couldn't help but clench at the thought of feeling him spill inside you, claiming you.

"Don't stop, please, don't stop," you begged, tears streaming down your face like two winding rivers, "I-I'm gonna come."

A hand slid between your legs to rub at your puffy clit, coaxing you closer and closer with winding circles.

"Come on my cock, baby, come all over that big cock."

It was hot, and blinding. Euphoric shocks pulsed through your body, as you fluttered and gushed around his cock. Logan's grip on your legs tightened as you shook violently with your orgasm – a million stars exploded behind your eyes.

"Oh, that's it, bub, such a good girl," he praised between heavy wet pants against your ear.

Fucking you through your ecstasy, Logan chased his own high at a relentless pace, and all you could do was take it, reduced to a ragdoll in his hands. In your ear he muttered nonsense interlaced with praise, telling you how good you felt, and how perfect you were for him.

With a deep groan he pulled out quickly, tugging at himself until he spilled his thick spend on the truck floor. With bleary eyes you watched how it pumped in quick spurts, dripping down his hand and soiled the knuckles in his own sticky cum.

Behind you, Logan breathed hard, nudging his nose against the column of your neck to press soft kisses to the hot skin.

A pair of bright headlights beamed down the road, pulling you from the moment with its blinding light. Logan helped you shift off his lap, reaching to hand you your discarded clothes before he tucked himself back into his jeans.

The cassette whirled in the car radio, and you couldn't remember when the music had stopped. Logan shifted back behind the wheel and an eerie silence grew in the distance between you.

"How 'bout I take you somewhere to eat?" he posed.

You smiled, "I could eat."

...................

hopefully this was okay? a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and my ask box is always open to chat <3 and thank you for reading!!

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 3 months ago

Text

queen sized bed // mcu!peter parker

❥ one bed, motel after midnight, friends, young love, nsfw/18+, smut with a side of plot. dom!reader, mommy kink, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), cream pie. ib: a little death by the neighbourhood.

wc: 2.7k (of pure filth + some fluff at the end)

navigation

You huff, flopping down on the motel bed, still a little frustrated from dealing with the receptionist at the front desk.

He had definitely been more of an asshole than he needed to be. And considering you and Peter have just gotten off a rough mission, you definitely aren’t in the mood to deal with him.

Poor Peter ended up having to step in and diffuse the situation before you decked the concierge. You rub your face, trying to think less angering thoughts.

“I think I’m gonna take a shower,” you announce, while you sit up and start rifling through your black duffel bag.

“Okay, just let me know when you’re in the shower. I wouldn’t want to turn around and catch you naked because of this stupid open floor plan.” yes you would. Peter laughs nervously.

“Sure thing,” you grab the last of your shower supplies and walk through the bathroom archway and begin to strip.

Peter tries his hardest to focus on unpacking his stuff but his ears keep returning to the sounds of items of your clothing hitting the ground. His mind following suit in wandering to you slowly undressing. Revealing more and more of your soft body.

“I’m in now, Pete,” you call, pulling him from the thoughts he definitely shouldn’t be having about his best friend and team member.

“Okay,” his voice cracks. Peter mentally face-palms.

He hears the water running and his mind slips back into his thoughts of you; the water cascading down your body, the way the soap will flow from your hair down your spine, or how the body wash would look after you ran it all over your—

Thud. “Shit!”

You dropped a bottle, bringing him back to reality.

Stop thinking about your friend like this, Peter. Be real with yourself, man.

ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+

You finish washing all the soap off your body and reach past the curtain, grabbing your towel and begin drying yourself. Attempting to get as much water off of your person as possible.

Once you’re dry, you wrap the towel around your body and step out of the shower.

You look up, eyes landing on Peter’s bare back.

He’s looking into the sink while brushing his teeth - wearing only his black sweats that you love so much.

Feeling a wanton throb between your legs and a small burst of confidence - you walk up to him, wrapping your arms around his torso.

Peter continues bushing his teeth while he moves his free hand down to yours, lightly rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

You both smile.

It’s clear Peter doesn’t understand the energy you’re trying to set. So, you help him get there a little faster.

You glide the hand he’s not holding down his chest. Using just your middle finger to make a path to the waistband of his sweatpants.

Your finger trails from side to side, following the line of his pants seam, lightly brushing over the small patch of hair that disappears beyond his sweats.

You can feel his breathing faltering and hear his heart pounding in his chest. Though; you’re not sure if that’s due to your ear being pressed to his back or the fact that his heart is just beating that loud.

You let your finger dip just beneath his waistband, loving the way his breath hitches in response.

You keep moving your finger back and forth, teasing the poor boy.

Feeling satisfied with how flustered he is - you back away and Peter tries his best to focus back on brushing his teeth.

“Pete?” You call softly.

He glances up, looking at you through the mirror right as you let your towel drop to the floor. Peter flips his head around to look at you - unobscured by the foggy bathroom mirror.

He lets out a breath, letting his eyes rake over your entire body.

“Well? Are you just gonna stand there and gawk or are you going to come over here and touch me, Parker?” You tease.

“Right,” Peter shakes his head, pulling the toothbrush out of his mouth and quickly moving to you. He stands tentatively in front of you, unsure of what to do first. He looks down at you questioningly.

You giggle and grab his wrists. “Have you ever done this before?” The question is genuine.

Peter’s face goes red. “Uhm... no," his response barely audible. He tilts his head down in shame.

You smile while you move his hands to your breasts. “That’s okay. Let me teach you.”

His hands gently caress your chest and you let out a soft noise that makes Peter’s knees go weak.

“Please?” He begs, feeling a pull on his groin as you arch your back into him. He massages your breasts, attempting to - and succeeding in getting more noises from you.

He slowly slides his unoccupied hand between your thighs, rubbing between the folds, finding your clit with such ease you have to wonder if he lied about his inexperience.

Any coherent thoughts you had left the moment he pressed his finger into you and started rubbing at an amazing and yet still agonizingly slow pace.

You glide your hands up his arms and to his face. Bringing it down to yours. You kiss him softly, moving your mouth in an easy rhythm for Peter to follow along with.

Peter moves his middle finger to your entrance and pauses for your permission. You grind yourself against his hand, hoping that’s enough of a yes.

He takes it and slides his fingers in with ease, surprised at how wet you already are.

“Fuck, y/n,” he moans into your mouth. His sweats tighten as he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you, lewd noises already making their way out of your mouth.

He’s lost in the feeling of you. It’s all he’s ever wanted and more. Just you and him. Melding together in such a beautiful way.

The hand on your breast moves to your hip where he rubs his thumb over the bone lovingly.

You move one of your hands to the side of his throat as you start to kiss his neck, leaving marks everywhere while grinding your hips back and fourth on his hand.

Pete’s breath leaves him almost completely, knowing anyone could see what you’ve done to him turns him on more than he thinks you could know.

You pull away abruptly. Peter feels as though he's missing a piece of himself as he watches you walk away.

You're at the bed, beckoning Peter over with a finger.

He wastes no time. Quickly walking to you and smashing his lips into yours.

Your hand trails down Peter’s chest and beneath his sweatpants. You massage him through his boxers and he groans into your mouth.

If he hadn’t already told you, it would have been an easy guess that he’s only ever touched himself.

“You’re so responsive,” you tell him as you part from his kiss to catch your breath. “I love it.”

Your hand moves out of his pants to his hair, tugging lightly on the soft brown locks. He groans again.

You smile.

“Lay down on the bed for me?” you ask softly.

He nods his head, eager to oblige any command you give to him.

He spreads out on the bed, propping his head on the pillows and making sure to get exactly how he thinks you want him.

“Good boy.”

Peter can’t explain the pride that swells in his chest at the praise. All he knows is that he’ll do anything to get you to say it again.

You crawl on top of him, straddling his waist as you lean in to kiss his neck again. Peter’s hands grip at the sheets as he attempts to hold himself back.

You move your mouth down to his collar bone, sucking on sensitive spots. You feel peter writhe and moan beneath you

You slowly move down his chest, taking your time the lower you get.

You smile up at him and pull on the elastic with your teeth, releasing it and letting the material pop back down on his skin. You tease him more by lightly trailing your finger around his lower stomach.

Peter makes a strangled noise. “Y/N... please,” he begs breathlessly.

“Please, what, Pete?”

“T-touch me. Please. I don’t think I can take it anymore,” he’s on the verge of whining.

“Since you asked so nicely...”

You pull his sweats down at an agonizingly slow pace, then doing the same with his boxers.Savoring every inch of new skin being revealed to you.

Once Peter’s dick is free, it springs up and lays flat on his stomach.

You feel heat rush to your core, along with a familiar wetness.

You bite your lip and take it in your hand, rubbing your thumb over the head.

Peter’s own head falls back against the pillow as his hips and legs shake.

“I’ve barely touched you, baby,” you note and peter could probably cum just from the sultry tone in your voice.

He whines and grips the sheets.

You use his eyes squeezed shut to your advantage and surprise him with your tongue licking up his cock.

Peter gasps and looks down at you. You smile back as you take him in your mouth, moving your lips all the way down to the hilt.

The noise that comes from the man beneath you is divinity. You to moan around him. His legs shake and he can’t help but thrust into your mouth.

You gag, which only causes him more pleasure and a small mmph noise makes it’s way out of him.

He grabs a light fist full of your hair, pulling you away from his cock.

"y/n, if you keep going I'll finish now," he's out of breath, sweat starting to form on his chest.

"That's the plan," the deep tone and tantalizing wink you give him as go go back down have chills running all across his body.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Peter's while lower half convulses and you wrap you mouth back around him, grabbing a handful of his balls.

You wrap your free hand around the base of his cock. "You wanna cum peter?" You slowly pump his cock.

"'Wanna cum inside you... please," he struggles.

"Oh, baby. There's plenty of time for that," Peter feels like his heart is gonna explode from the leisurely pace you're stroking him at. "I'm asking you if you want to cum in my mouth."

He throws his head back and says through gritted teeth; "Fuck... yes, god, please..."

"Yes, what?" You prompt.

Peter's mind swirls with every possible word he could respond with in a matter of milliseconds. And, without thinking, he mistakenly says the one he's only thought about in his most intimate fantasies.

"Yes... mommy."

Fuck.

Peter looks down to see you smiling at him with mischievous grin.

"Mommy?"

His blood runs cold. Fear holing him still.

"I could get used to that," you wrap your mouth around Peter's balls, sucking hard as you go back to pumping his cock. Languid movements driving peter crazy as his mind swirls.

"Uh, fuck. Oh my-- shit, y/n..." he's loud, almost enough to make you worry about any residents in neighboring rooms.

You take your time, moving from sucking his balls to his cock, using any movement necessary to make him feel good. Completely focusing on pleasing the man beneath you. And you're doing an amazing job, you can tell by the noises. The occasional curse word surrounded by your name, blasphemous words, and a lot of whimpering.

He's close. The way his knuckles turn white as he grips the bed sheets. His thighs tightening, muscles flexing. His lips are pressed together and his whole body is stiff.

You bring your mouth down on his dick, taking all of him and squeezing his balls up to his shaft. You bring your pace up as fast as you can, relentless.

"H-holy, oh fuck- y/n."

Warm ropes of cum shoot down your throat, coating your esophagus in him. You swallow it all, continuing to suck at him until his whole body is shaking violently.

You pull off him with a pop, smiling like the devil.

Peter's out of breath, looking like a shell of a man and yet, so fucking hot. He's covered in sweat, chest, face, and thighs glistening. His cheeks are a rosy red you haven't seen from him before. His chest is heaving for air.

You kiss him so hard it steals any oxygen he might have gotten straight out of him. He grabs the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair and pulling you harder into him.

He's the one to break the kiss, still attempting to breathe. "You're amazing."

You smile. "C'mere," you lay on your back, pulling him on top of you. He props an arm on either side of your head, leaning down to kiss you as you place your arms around his neck.

You wrap your legs around Peter's waist, rubbing your soaked core against his cock. He whines for you in return.

His legs shake at the sensation, due to his sensitivity and a near-feral need for you. You pull away from the kiss, biting your lip.

"Peter," you breathe, almost a moan. "I want you inside me."

Words Peter Parker never believed he'd hear except when dreaming. He feels his cock start to harden again.

You feel it as well. Taking it as a sign to keep on.

"Peter... please," you pull his ear next to your mouth and whisper low; "i wanna feel your cock inside me."

He shudders, fully erect by now. Peter quickly grabs his dick, lining himself up with your entrance, waiting on your consent. He looks at you, the question in his eyes.

"Yes, peter. Fuck me," he needs no more reassurance. He slowly pushes into you, both yours and Peter's legs shaking from the pleasure.

"Ffffuck-" you interrupt yourself with a moan. One that makes Pete's brain go foggy, the only thought being fucking you.

He grabs your hips, expertly sliding himself in and out of you at a pace near divinity. Your mind is wiped of any coherent thought that could've ever been there except for the question of how he is do good at this.

"Fuck, shit. 'So tight." Peter rests his head on your shoulder as he fucks harder into you.

It's beautiful, in the most obscene way. The way your warm bodies are practically glued together, moving in a rhythm only your souls know. The noises flowing from your lips already have Peter rocking on the edge of release, and the groans from him are doing the same to you.

You place your fingernails at the tops of Peter's shoulders, dragging them down his back then around his ribs.

He takes in a breath, shuddering. "Fuck, fuck, y/n. I'm close. So close..."

"Cum inside me, Peter. Please," your walls clench hard around him and the sounds of his whines.

The feeling of your warmth wrapped around his cock, mixed with your sounds are the purest form of ecstasy for Peter.

He reaches between your bodies, pressing his fingers against your clit and circling fast.

"Oh fuck, oh my god," you moan loud, your whole body tensing as you cum harder than you ever have in your life around Peter's cock.

You look down, seeing you've squirted all over his lower half. Fuck. There's no time to think about it because Peter is following behind you.

He grabs your hips tighter, pulling your body as close to his as possible. Peter cums deep inside you, filling you with hot, thick ropes of his seed.

The way he looks in this millisecond of a moment will forever stay in your brain. Toned abs covered in sweat and glistening. Chocolate curls a mess, falling in his face. Face towards the sky, screwed up from a pleasure he's never felt before.

The way the light falls around his face illuminates him beautifully. Angelically even.

Peter pulls out of you slowly, both of you too sensitive. He walks to the bathroom, bringing back a damp rag.

"Here," he gently helps clean you up. Afterwards he cleans himself, tossing the rag and putting a new pair of boxers on. He hands you one of his shirts.

"Thank you," you pull the shirt over your head, feeling incredibly loved by Peter. Which prompts you to say; "Peter, I love you."

He smiles and looks so giddy he might float away. He crawls into bed, cuddling up to you. "I love you, too."

This one's been in the works for a while but holy shit, even I'm all hot and bothered from this lmao.

Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated! Thank y'all for reading!

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 3 months ago

Text

quiero llorar

manhattan longing // tasm!peter parker

❥ tender hands, late nights, secrets, falling from great heights.

wc: 1.1k

navigation ✩ new york private life (I) ✩ empire state of mind (II)

Peter Parker never thought a wall looked so good to punch. Sitting backwards on your toilet while you shakily stitch up a gash on his back does that to a man.

The adrenaline from the fall wore off and Peter realized he probably didn't just land on the concrete of the sidewalk.

Plus, the glass you ungraciously pulled from his wound answered any doubt.

Speaking of ungracious, the needle in his back was definitely not forming and sort of straight lines.

Peter clutches the toilet lid like a vice. Knuckles turning white and head feeling light from how long he's been holding his breath.

"Okay, this should be the last one," the tone in your voice makes him feel awful for the pain he's feeling. He can here the sadness in your voice, how bad you feel for hurting him.

You push through his skin, pulling the stitch tight and cutting the string. Peter intakes a breath, attempting to dig his nails into the porcelain he's wrapped himself around.

You set the needle on the counter, both peter and you letting out a long awaited breath. His shoulders slump. You slowly reach up, running a thumb over healed scars, all white and jagged.

"Do you fall on glass often?" Your tone is soft and close to a whisper.

Peter turns his head to the side, looking at you over his shoulder. "No, I...." he pauses, attempting to think of a good excuse. Though, you don't know that. "I used to, uhm, box. Yeah. It was intense."

"Oh," you frown slightly, tilting ur head.

You back up, allowing Peter to stand. He turns to face you, revealing a forgotten scar on his chest.

It's long. It spans from his collar bone diagonally to the bottom of his rib cage and it's almost an inch wide.

"Peter," you whisper. "There's no way you got that boxing."

Peter quickly grabs his shirt off the counter, pulling it over his head. "That one's not, I don't really wanna talk about it."

Shame. Shame and embarrassment crash over you like a cold wave. Why the fuck did i mention it?!

You look down at your hands, digging your nails into the sides of each other. "Sorry, I didn't mean to over step."

"No, nonono, don't be sorry. It's okay," Peter smiles at you and, in one spontaneous moment, he's brushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

His heart is pounding in his chest. Fear of pushing a boundary crawling up his body.

Your cheeks are warm and before you know it, your hand is holding his against your face, thumb rubbing his knuckles.

"You're so sweet, Peter Parker."

Fucking kiss her!

You let your fingers trail along his arm, trying to give him a hint he can pick up on.

Fucking kiss me!

It's the perfect time too. God her smile. And her hands, they're so soft, and gentle. Loving in a way he never knew he needed.

"Thank you for fixin' me up," Peter gives a lopsided smile, pulling his hand back to his side.

A cold absence takes hold of where his hand once was.

"Of course," you give a flat smile. "You saved my life. It's the least I can do."

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

You offer Peter to stay the night, again saying it's the least you can do in repayment of his heroic act.

You both end up on the couch, curled up watching tv. Again, seeing a couple embrace and feeling the same longing from the other day.

You move to lay your head on Peter's shoulder, letting his arm wrap around you, and sighing into him. Comfort overtakes your body as you sink further into him, slowly running your hand up and down his forearm.

His heart is pounding in his chest. Nerves shaking his hands and his thoughts. "y/n?"

This is it. I'm finally gonna kiss her.

"Yes?"

And with the sweet, sleepy tone of your voice he feels all his confidence start to fizzle. His brain short-circuits trying to come up with a cover up.

"D'you wanna go to bed?"

"Yeah," you yawn, pushing further into him.

Pete leads you from the living room to your bedroom, making sure to turn all the lights off along the way. He pauses once you reach the bedroom, not sure where to go.

You turn and walk up to him, grinning. You place a hand on his chest, feeling his pulse increase.

Peter has no idea what to do. His heart is in his throat, hands tingling.

You let your hand slide up his torso and to the back of his neck, getting as close as you can to him. Peter gulps, looking from your eyes to your lips then back again.

Time seems to stand still, neither of you breathing nor looking away from each other. You tangle your fingers into the brown curls and the nape of Pete's neck, twirling them.

Finally, you pull Peter down to you fully. You kiss him the intensity of the sun. He immediately reciprocates. Your bodies instantly meld into one. Finding their way to the bed and laying you down on your back.

Peter Parker is hovering above you, smiling like an idiot. The same Peter Parker that you loved way back in ninth grade. You were both fourteen, both idiots. The Peter above you now is the same one that fell off the jungle gym in gym class in second grade and blamed you for distracting him.

All the memories swell in your mind, bubbling into one thought you can't help from leaving your lips.

"I have loved you for a long time, Peter Parker."

Peter's eyes go wide, head tilting towards you. "You, what?"

"Have loved you for a long time. since ninth grade to be exact," you state seriously.

You've said it twice and yet, he still can't process it. You notice and try to help him out. You push him over on his side, moving yourself the same way.

"When we were both fourteen, we went on a school field trip to the Empire State Building. We all got to go to the top, but i was afraid of heights. So, you held my hand and told me-"

"If you fall, I'll fall with you," both of you repeat together. And in a crazy twist of fate, you both did fall together.

"I've loved you ever since then."

Peter grabs you by the back of your head, pulling you in for another kiss. Souls connecting into one like two water drops.

He can't believe it. You. You've loved him from the same moment he loved you, and after all this time, you made it back to each other. Falling harder than ever.

remember: likes are appreciated but comments and reblogs are the desire. Remember they do more for authors and tumblrs than a like ever could.

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 3 months ago

Text

empire state of mind // tasm!peter parker

❥ warm New York, cold nights, sushi, pining, heroes and their hopeless romanticism.

wc: 1.5k

navigation ✩ new york private life (I) ✩ manhattan longing (III)

The movie finishes with little to no emotional distractions from either of you. You look to Peter, "This was fun! We need to do it again sometime."

You smile but all Peter feels is dread. Are you sending him home? Already? He's had a great time but he doesn’t wanna go home so soon.

“Yeah… I had a lot of fun too,” he gives a downturned smile.

"How about you come back on Friday? I'm free all day after my class at 10."

Your voice drowns out and Peter feels a tingle up his back. The hairs on his arms stand on end. Something bad is happening...

He turns his head, realizing that whatever his Spidey-Sense is telling him is happening, is major. He tries to hide his worry as he stands, grabbing his bag from beside the door.

"H-hey! Where are you going?" the worry filling up your throat and spilling into your tone.

"Friday. After 10. Sounds amazing. I'll be there. Gotta go-" he doesn't stay to hear your response. Slamming the door behind him. You're left on the couch, in shock and feeling a little sad.

A few moments later, you see Spider Man swing by your window and off into town, towards the flashing red and blue lights.

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

That was Tuesday, it's now Thursday night.

Sorry for dashing off last night, I forgot I had to pick some things up for my aunt!

Peter's message from Wednesday sits unopened on your phone. You have no idea how to respond.

♡.

Peter's all kinds of a mess right now. Terrified he messed things up by leaving so quickly the other night. Nervous that your date is canceled. He hasn't heard back from you since that night.

What if you're mad? Or now uninterested because of the way he ran out? What can I do to fix this? Peter's internal thoughts have been going haywire since Tuesday.

♡.

You phone buzzes as you begin to study for one of your exams. You decide to ignore it

Then it buzzes, and again.

You grab the device in anger with full intentions of putting it on do not disturb. Until you see the messages are from Peter.

Be ready tomorrow at 2.

I'm taking you somewhere nice to make up for my actions.

Is that sushi place still an option?

You smile and respond: Only if you show up on time :)

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Peter does show up on time, early actually. He takes you downtown, walking through little shops, trying to get the confidence to hold your hand.

Right now would be the perfect time.

The both of you walking along the sidewalk. Shoulder to shoulder.

Do it, Peter. You both think. And then, your thoughts separate.

I'm basically begging for it with the way I'm pushing my shoulder into his. From you.

What if she doesn't want that? And I ruin the whole moment? From Peter.

Fuck it. Peter steadies his breathing and goes to wrap his pinky around your index.

Just as his finger starts to brush against yours, you move your hand, running digits through your hair.

Peter curls and uncurls his fingers by his side.

"Ugh, this heatwave is fucking ridiculous," you hum, holding your hair into a temporary ponytail. Smiling at the boy.

To Peter Parker, you are the most stunning woman he's ever seen. And this moment encompasses that completely. Flyaway hairs framing your face, chest glowing from sweat, cheeks flushed from the heat, and smile beaming.

If only he could grow a pair and hold your hand.

"Yeah, tell me about it. The air conditioning in my apartment's broken. It's just me, a lonely fan, and a lot of open windows," he smiles at you, nervous of talking too much.

You can't help but feel your chest flutter every time he gives you that bashful smile. Something in the way his cheeks change color and his eyes dart around awkwardly keeping your heart pounding.

"Well. Anytime you feel yourself getting too hot, you can always come over," you wink and waltz into a nearby store, holding the door for him.

Peter feels his hands begin to shake, the temperature in his body rising and he suspects it's not from the weather. He follows you in.

You bounce around the shop happily, picking up the mini glass figures and examining each one, showing them all to Peter.

He gazes at you with a content smile on his face. He could get used to this.

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

The hours come and go, but as five-o'clock draws near you and Peter begin to make your way towards the aforementioned sushi restaurant.

You step in and are in immediate awe. Neon red led's light up the dim rooms. Candles flicker on each table, illuminating the accompanying roses. The clack of your shoes reverberates off the black marble floor and falls in time with the soft jazz flowing through the building.

"Oh wow..." you breathe.

Peter walks behind you with a smug grin on his face. He aimed to impress you with this place. It seems he hit the bullseye.

"How many?" A very well dressed, middle aged woman asks, smiling.

"Just two." Peter answers.

"Follow me." The lady turns the corner after grabbing two menus.

After being sat and ordering drinks, Peter goes to look at his menu. You kick him (lightly) from under the table.

He jumps. "Ah! What was that for?!"

"You didn't tell me how nice this place was gonna be!" You whisper rather sharply.

"Well, I wanted to impress you. And make up for everything," Peter smiles.

"You can do all that without letting me dress like a slob to go to a place like this!"

"I think you look beautiful." Peter blurts. Eyes wide, face red.

"Oh." Your voice is just above a whisper. "Well.. uh, thank you," you smile at him and his whole world lights up.

꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

You exit the front doors of the restaurant, cold night air stinging your lungs.

"That was amazing, Peter. thank you so much," you stuff your hands into your pockets.

"Of course! I had to make everything up to you," he smiles down at you. Again, having the same battle of brain and heart over holding your hand, both of which being pushed further into your pockets.

"We definitely have to do this again," you begin to cross the street, assuming Peter follows behind you.

"Hey! y/n! Wait!" Peter's scared tone stops you in your tracks in the street as you turn to look at him.

"wha--" you hear a horn and can barely distinguish headlights from beside you before a pair of warm, rather strong, arms are embracing you - holding you an equally as strong body.

Your chest goes numb with adrenaline, face heating up from the proximity of Peter's face to yours.

"Oh my god. Are you okay?" His breath is heavy, warm chest pushing into yours and heart pounding.

"Uh... yeah... are you?"

"I'm fine. I think my ankle is bruised from the fall but it's alright, as long as you're okay."

Your chest continues fluttering but no longer from fear. The way Peter just smiled at you could light the whole world up.

"Here," you stand up, offering the boy a hand. "Let's go back to my place and assess the damage."

Peter takes your hand, following you back home.

You turn to him. "Thank you, by the way. You totally just saved my life."

⏪︎ peter's pov ⏪︎

Peter smiled, holding the door open as you exit the restaurant. He'd had such a great day with you so far, though he worried at every point he would make a wrong move and mess everything up.

He didn't.

"That was amazing, Peter. thank you so much."

This is it. Peter thinks. My best possible chance to grab her hand.

You stuff your hands into your pockets.

Shit.

"Of course! I had to make everything up to you," Peter smiles down at you.

"We definitely have to do this again."

Peter watches you step down from the sidewalk and onto the asphalt. His head snaps to the left, seeing headlights. A car. Moving fast. Right for you.

His whole body goes numb, heart pounding.

"Hey! y/n! Wait!"

You turn, freezing.

Peter feels a build of anxiety from his toes to his head. You're not moving.

The hairs on his arms stand up, and he's moving before his thoughts can catch up. And everything feels like it's in slow motion.

He lunges, wrapping his arms around you, pulling both of you back towards the sidewalk. Peter's ankle twists and he lands, back thudding against the pavement, holding you snug against him.

His breath is harsh.

"Oh my god. Are you okay?" Peter can feel your hearts pounding in the same, fear-driven tempo.

"Uh... yeah... are you?" Your eyes search his.

"I'm fine. I think my ankle is bruised from the fall but it's alright, as long as you're okay." And he means it.

"Here," you stand up, offering the him a hand. "Let's go back to my place and assess the damage."

Peter gladly takes your hand, also taking note of the smoothness, and the gentle way you lead him. He feels warmth slowly spread down his back, realizing his ankle might not be the only injury he sustained.

"Thank you, by the way. You totally just saved my life."

likes are appreciated but comments and reblogs are the desire. Remember they do more for authors and tumblrs than a like ever could.

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 3 months ago

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annual obligatory post. ur welcome.

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 4 months ago

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this makes my heart so happy, imagine theamazingpeter3 being happy again 🥹

IN EVERY UNIVERSE !

— tasm!peter parker x mj!reader | the one where peter realizes that all peter parkers has an mj in their lives that they hold dearly in their hearts, and you, his good friend who happened to have the same initials, might be the person he’s meant to break down his walls for for the first time again after vowing to lock it up forever.

( 2.8k words ) nc-17; fluff; friends to lovers au; ft. professor!reader, professor!tasm!peter; this fic isn’t that marinated yet for editing so there might be some mistakes here and there.

opening note. i rewatched spider-man: no way home and came up with this idea while doing so lol. technically, i know tasm!peter is not supposed to remember mcu!peter but for the sake of this fic, let’s just pretend that he does okay hehehe. also, i know this is supposed to be a reader-insert fic, but again, for plot purposes, you will have a name with the mj initial !

Peter felt like the densest person alive when it clicked to him that Peter 1’s Michelle Jones-Watson and Peter 2’s Mary Jane Watson had a version of her own in his universe.

He knew that he should have realized it as soon as the two Peters mentioned them, but he was so caught up with being in an entirely new dimension and coming up with a plan that would save its people that he didn’t have the luxury to process it quicker than usual; he just allowed it to be heard by his ears and shooed away by his preoccupied mind, deeming the information as merely trivial.

However, the second he was left alone with his thoughts, just as he began formulating and working on the cure for Dr. Curt Conners, it hit him like a ton of bricks that if these Peters had a partner that had the same initials, then it wouldn’t be quite impossible for him to supposedly have an MJ of his own—and that you, whose full name was Mia Joesette Watson, seemed to have perfectly fit that specific criteria.

In Peter’s defense, since you preferred to be called ‘Jo’ and the entirety of your name was very different from the other MJs, he should be given some slack for not realizing it sooner. It’s not like there was some memo that said all Peters indeed had an MJ in their life and that this said MJ would have a significant impact in it.

Still though, a part of him reckoned that he should have known better due to how much of an important and dear person you were to him. After all, since vowing to himself that he would never allow anyone to know about his identity as Spider-Man after what happened to Gwen, you became the exception to that rule because of what Peter now assumed was the universe’s way of telling him that you were meant to know him other than just Peter Parker, your colleague and fellow adjunct professor at the university you both worked in.

So when he got transported back to his universe thanks to Peter 1’s wizard friend, the first thing he did was rush to the university grounds where he knew you would be, ignoring the pain he felt in his body from all the fight and getting the first clothes he could find in his apartment to wear over his Spider-Man suit so that he could disguise himself as an average guy.

He just knew he couldn’t wait to see you again. It was going to be literally torturous if he prolonged this any longer, his head only filled with thoughts of how much he wanted to see you and prove if the theory he had been thinking of was right.

Peter wished it was; he never said it out loud before, but it has been months since he has been in denial with himself that he was already gaining romantic feelings for you due to his fear of ever loving someone so much again.

And if this was the go signal he had been waiting for that told him it was safe to fall in love with you, then he was going to take it.

Arriving at the faculty building, he marched to where your office was and heedlessly opened the door without warning, spotting you by your desk with a student sitting across you.

From the looks of it alone, this student—Rachel, as Peter remembered her—was having a consultation with you, her laptop opened for you and folders scattered on the table, a very clear indication that he shouldn’t have barged in like he just had right now unannounced.

Your eyes flashed to him in an instant, confusion and surprise etching on your features. “Mr. Parker,” you acknowledged, keeping the interaction as professional as it could since there were existing rumors of the both of you having a love affair (from what you gathered, the students were ‘shipping’ you together), “is there anything I can help you with?”

He swallowed hard, embarrassed as he was not expecting another person to be with you at this time. “Well, uh, yes. But it can wait. I can wait out here.” He pertained to the bench outside your office.

“Oh, it’s fine, Mr. Parker,” Rachel was the one who spoke; she appeared pleased and there was a certain glint in her eyes that Peter couldn’t quite decipher. “My consultation period with Ms. Watson is done. So, you can have her.” She closed her laptop that was on your desk and kept the rest of her things before standing up.

“No, no, if you still have something to discuss—”

Any protest done by Peter got ignored by Rachel as she thanked you for your time, this big teasing grin on her face, and bid her farewell to you and Peter, scurrying to the door then to give you two the privacy you needed.

“Rachel, remember to email me the revisions by tonight, alright?” You reminded her gently before she could completely leave.

“Will do!” she giddily replied, closing the door behind her.

Once she was far enough and out of hearing shot, Peter turned back to you and saw you gazing at him with your arms crossed against your chest, your stance clearly disapproving. He was well familiar what must be running in your mind right now; there has been a lot of times in the past wherein he has gotten hurt from crime fighting that he enlisted your help in taking care of his unreachable wounds, and during one of those instances that you saw how much he winced and was in pain, you were never shy in making your concern show.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly said, striding towards your desk while you remained there, “I forgot that it’s your consultation hours during this time.”

“Where the hell were you, Peter?” was what you asked him, no longer hiding your infuriation about the fact that he has been missing since yesterday. “You didn’t attend any of your lectures from what I’ve heard, and you haven’t been answering any of my calls.”

It took a few seconds before he spoke, and when he did, he knew that the excuse he blurted out wouldn’t be good enough for your ears. “I’ve been busy.”

“Busy? With what?” You walked around the desk to walk closer to where he was standing. “You were gone for almost two days, Pete. At first I thought you were doing your—” you paused, glancing at the door for a millisecond and keeping your voice hushed for your next sentence— “Spider-Man stuff, but I looked over the news and there weren’t reports of you from anywhere.”

“Well… that’s probably because I most likely didn’t do my Spider-Man stuff here,” he sheepishly said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I literally wasn’t here, Jo.”

“You were out of town?”

“No, I mean literally in this world.”

“In this world?” you repeated in an impatient and puzzled manner. “So, what are you saying? Did you gain the ability to fly yourself to space?”

“No, no, I mean here, Jo.” Peter gestured to your surroundings in complete astonishment; regardless of how many hours it has been since he knew of the fact, he was still amazed to know that it was true. “In this world is what I’m saying. God, I don’t even know where to begin—but string theory, multidimensional reality, matter displacement? It’s all real. There are universes out there that are like our own, universes that we have counterparts of and who live in the same places we live in right here. The one I somehow ended up in? It had its own Peter Parker.”

You blinked at him, shocked at what he disclosed but was still in the process of taking it all in. “What?”

“The multiverse—it exists. It fucking exists.”

“LIke… like in that movie called Everything Everywhere All at Once? There’s just multiple realities happening all at the same time?”

“Exactly!”

“And the universe you traveled to, there was a Peter Parker there that wasn’t you?”

He nodded in enthusiasm. “Yes. Though, it’s interesting, because we look nothing alike. It doesn’t matter, of course. It’s just that I was under the impression that all Peter Parkers are supposed to look the same, but I suppose that there can be exemptions considering that there must be zillions of worlds in the—”

“Wait, wait, wait…” You cut him off and he immediately shut up. “So, let me get this clear, you were gone for almost two days because you were in another universe?”

“It sounds crazy, I know,” he said, “I mean, now that I’m back, I’m having a hard time grasping it again. But yes, basically, that is the reason for my absence.”

“How did you even travel there?”

“No idea. Just poofed there without warning.”

You continued staring at him, thankfully not because you seemed like you had your suspicions that he was only bluffing or was completely losing it. Peter was positive that you were going to believe him; it was dubious of you not to, given the fact that you were already aware of his powers as Spider-Man and the superhumans that posed a threat to your city from time to time. Surely, the concept of the multiverse couldn’t be the one thing you couldn’t comprehend.

“Fascinating,” you finally uttered out loud, looking genuinely impressed. “If they have their own Peter Parker there, does he happen to be Spider-Man as well?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “There’s two of them actually—Peter 2 is from another world too, I’ll explain later—and he’s the oldest among us three. Peter 1, the youngest, is the true Peter in that dimension, while me… I’m kinda like the middle child in the whole dynamic.”

“There were three Peter Parkers in the world you transported in?”

“Yep.”

“Sounds like a handful.” You had the nerve to tease despite being stunned by the information. “I’m assuming there’s a Jo Watson in that universe then, huh?”

Peter smiled. He just remembered what he came rushing here for. There was a part of him that was still nervous about what he wanted to do now because of his newfound knowledge, afraid that maybe his case was different when it came to having an MJ in his life—yet most of him felt optimistic that this was the right path to go, and he hasn’t felt this much optimism in a while for him to ignore it.

“It does, actually.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Really?”

“Uh-huh. She looks nothing like you and she goes by MJ but I’m pretty sure that you and her are supposed to be the same.” He chuckled and so did you.

“What makes you so certain?”

“For one, she’s an important person in Peter Parker’s life, and you’re important to me too, Jo,” Peter said sincerely, his eyes practically the ones that were speaking to you that he caught the movement in which you held your breath in surprise a bit because of it. “I… to be frank, I should have realized it sooner. You’ve always been so much more than just a person I wanted to protect and care for. I’ve always been drawn to you… it’s perhaps the reason why I climbed in the wrong window that night despite memorizing this whole building.”

A snort escaped you at the memory he had you abruptly revisiting. What he was referring to was the night when you discovered he was indeed the man behind Spider-Man, all because of Peter’s mistake of climbing into your office for a supposed temporary refuge which was coincidentally placed a floor above his. He wasn’t sure what made him commit such a rookie mistake, although like he just said, he now thought it was the universe’s way of bringing him closer to you.

“Peter…” You began but he held your arms gently to stop you from carrying on with that sentence.

“You don’t have to give me an answer yet,” he said. “I just want you to know that I like you, Jo. A lot. And I’ve been trying hard not to for the past few months because of fear that I’ll just get fucked by life all over again if I allow myself to let another person in my life like I did before. Being in that other world though… seeing how those two Peters had MJs of their own—it made me hope that maybe it could work for the both of us too. Not just as friends… maybe as something more.”

You blinked at him, the implication of his words dawning onto you. To claim that you anticipate this confession would be a lie; regardless, it didn’t erase the fact that it made the butterflies in your stomach turn into a damn zoo. “Pete, I… wow, um, I’m speechless.”

“I’m sorry if I’m pouring this all out on you in one go.”

“No, don’t apologize.” You found yourself smiling, and that gesture alone made his heart want to burst in happiness. “I just mean that… well, I don’t want to be stereotypical—uh, do the other MJs happen to have romantic interest in the other Peter Parkers too?”

The both of you were beaming now. He was positive then that you were his already.

“Yeah. They’re head over heels over their Peters as a matter of fact,” Peter said.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Totally. I heard one of them even made the first move of kissing Peter.”

“Very admirable, I must say.” You were laughing again, and he couldn’t help following suit.

“Right?” He stepped closer and brought both of his hands on your cheeks. “However, as much as I would be honored for you to do that as well, I think I’ll save you the effort and do it myself.”

Before you could react, Peter had his lips already on yours, kissing you with a passion that he didn’t know he had until he was here and making it apparent to you. He loved how you melted into him the moment his mouth touched yours, how your hands traveled from staying still on both of your sides to clinging onto his coat to pull him closer to you, deepening the kiss and showing how much you needed this to happen as well, even though like him, you were only aware of that fact once this was really happening.

“Goddamn,” you cursed as you felt your bottom hit the desk; Peter had successfully led you to perch on it while he stood between your thighs, his body dangerously pressing against yours, “I never knew you had game, Pete.” You breathed out, half-teasing and half-impressed.

Peter smirked. “I’m hurt.”

“What can I do to make it up to you?” Your tone was flirtatious and he was feeling rather hot because of it.

“Lots of things, Jo. Though there are a few things at the top of my list.”

“Yeah?” You moaned as he nipped on your throat and squeezed your hips. “Like what?”

He was about to reply with the naughtiest thing he will ever utter in your presence but then loud consecutive knocks were heard from the office door, causing you two to halt at once.

Another knock came and Peter recoiled from you instantly, dashing to the nearby bookshelf to start pretending like he was interested in the books displayed there to erase the possible suspicion of what just commenced. You, on the other hand, briskly smoothened your hair, blouse, and asked the person knocking to come in, revealing it to be Rachel who appeared bashful to be back here again.

“I’m so sorry, Ms. Watson, but I seem to have forgotten my laptop charger.” She gestured to the pouch right beside you on the table, something that you recognized to be the one that contained what she returned for.

You grabbed it and outstretched the small bag towards her direction, an invitation for her to come get it herself, and she didn’t waste time darting forward, catching hold of it and mumbling her sorrys again and again, apologizing for interrupting your ‘meeting’ with Professor Parker.

“It’s fine,” you repeatedly told her too, waving your hands in assurance that it was all good and offering her a final smile before she exited the office for the second time this day, yelling a one last sorry until you heard her footsteps fade out.

As soon as that was dealt with, you and Peter simultaneously let out a huge exhale, causing your gazes to meet. By far, making out in the office was the most risqué and compromising position you permitted yourself to be in, considering that you and him were still in the university premises. Nonetheless, you ended up bursting out laughing with Peter at the thought of being discovered on the very first day you just admitted your feelings to each other, happy hormones spreading everywhere in your systems.

With a bite of his lip to prevent a bigger grin to be seen on his mouth, he lifted a hand and shot a synthetic web to your torso and abruptly hauled you towards him so that you’d fall in his arms. You gasped in absolute surprise, a complaint bubbling in your throat, yet he couldn’t care less as he carried on with kissing you again, picking up from where the both of you were left interrupted earlier.

thank you for reading! as i’m a sucker for validation, feedback is highly appreciated hehe ♡

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 4 months ago

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honestamente, ruego que alguien me salve de esta obsesión con andrew garfield

hold you here, my loveliest friend

Summary: There are protocols in place for a reason.

Pairing: Peter Parker x female reader

Word count: 10.9k

Rating: 18+, no minors

Warnings/tropes: sex pollen therefore dubious consent, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, anxiety, coworkers/friends to whatever the hell these two have going on

Peter Parker was a nice guy.

And not a nice guy in the way that men described it when they couldn’t figure out why women weren’t interested in them, but a genuinely nice guy. When his name popped up on the schedule, she looked forward to work just a bit more. He was easy to talk with and smarter than anyone she’d ever met, but never in an obnoxious way. Just kind and goofy and considerate and he actually listened when people talked.

She knew some things about him— his aunt was a nurse, he’d gone to ESU and graduated two years ahead of her, he showed up to work sometimes with faint bruises on his face, and that he had nice eyes. Maybe it wasn’t very professional to think about his eyes, but who was gonna get in her brain and stop her? Thinking wasn’t a crime. Anyway, it was just a little bit of loneliness. She’d been single for six months now— the entire time she’d known Peter, actually. He’d come to the lab a week after she’d ended it with her boyfriend, her selfish shitty mean boyfriend who she should have ditched ages ago but was too scared to.

The day they’d met, Peter had had the decency to not judge her when she’d angrily shouldered the vending machine after it had eaten her dollar, because all she wanted was a stupid bag of chips on her stupid break and the stupid red light just blinked at her with an error message, a middle finger if she’d ever seen one.

But instead of leaving, he’d walked over, given the machine an impressive shove, and the bag dropped to the bottom. He’d fished it out, handed it to her, and she’d accepted it, totally embarrassed that anyone had seen her have a meltdown, especially a new coworker. What a great first impression.

“I’m so sorry,” she’d said, staring at the bag. “I, uh. It’s been a bad week. I won’t do that in the lab, I promise.”

He’d nodded kindly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s okay to have a bad week. Sorry it’s happening to you.”

They’d been friends ever since.

“Hey, does a straw have one hole or two?” he asked her, apropos of nothing while they were running some tests. It was just the two of them tonight, which meant Todd wasn’t there to undermine everything that they said. At first, she’d thought he was sexist, but it turned out he was sexist and a dick, because he had something to say about everyone’s work, not just hers. So it was nice to only be with Peter, because he listened to her and they worked through obstacles together. Because not only was Peter Parker a nice guy, he was also a great problem solver.

It was also their first night on the graveyard shift, and it was hard not to miss her bed when it was just after midnight. Peter, somehow, had boundless energy, no matter what time of day it was. He was an anomaly, and she let him know it at least once a week.

“One long hole,” she replied with a barely hidden yawn, pulling her goggles off and rubbing at her cheekbones and forehead, wishing she didn’t have red lines all over her face.

“But there’s a hole at the top of the straw and then— shit, we’re out of pipettes,” he frowned, peering into the box.

“I’ll go grab some,” she volunteered, grateful for a chance to stretch her legs. The high stools they sat on did her body no favors. She usually left work feeling like she’d been clubbed in the small of her back.

The supply closet was down the hall, and she made quick work of locating what they needed. As she trudged back with the box tucked under her arm, she noticed a plant sitting by the lab entrance. Frowning, she knelt to pick it up, wondering who the hell was leaving flower deliveries at midnight. Or had it been sitting there all along and they’d somehow missed it as they’d scanned in? Well, she was single, so she doubted they were for her. Maybe Peter had something going on. She felt like he would have mentioned it, but it was his business.

The plant had deep green leaves and bright yellow buds, curled in tightly on themselves like they were keeping a secret. They were bright at the tip and deep at the bottom, a self-contained sunset of gold and mustard. She didn’t recognize the species, but then again, botany wasn’t her specialty. There was no card or note, just the plant in its black plastic container. Weird.

As she scanned her badge, the lab doors swooshed open, locking behind her. Peter was still working at the counter, hunched over with laser focus. Meticulous was a word she’d use to describe his work. Never a decimal or measurement out of place, protocol always followed to the letter.

She set the plant on the counter and slid the box across to him. The noise cut through the air, and he reached a hand out without looking up to stop it from falling off the edge. In the past few months, she’d noticed he had freakishly good reflexes. After she’d made an offhanded comment about it once, he’d turned pink and mumbled something about pure dumb luck. Why that had embarrassed him, she wasn’t quite sure. As laid back as he was, there was something occasionally quiet about him that she couldn’t quite figure out. Something just a little guarded. Maybe Peter Parker had a big secret.

“Thanks,” he said, slicing open the side of the box. “What’s that?” He gestured with his pocket knife to the plant she was still holding.

“Oh, um. It was sitting by the doors. Did you hear anyone? Or was it there when we came in and we missed it?”

Peter shook his head. The collar of his lab coat was creased all wrong, and she wanted to straighten it out. “I feel like one of us would have seen yellow flowers. We’re both pretty observant people.”

She shrugged, and set it on the counter. “Who the hell is sending flowers at,” she checked her phone, “twelve fourteen in the morning?”

“Maybe Cupid doesn’t rest?”

She rolled her eyes playfully and folded her arms on the counter in front of her. But as she shifted, she elbowed the plant, sending it crashing to the ground. It exploded out of the cheap container and its roots poked out of the dark soil where the plant lay in disarray.

“Shit,” she muttered, crouching down to clean it up. Peter had already grabbed the dustpan and was next to her, sweeping up the ruined plant. In the fall, the yellow buds had burst open, revealing neon orange stamen. It was an unnatural color, and she half-expected they might glow in the dark.

But the buds had also unleashed some sort of pollen, silver in the air. Shimmering. That was stranger than the stamen. It smelled sickly sweet, like candy made specifically for kids.

“What the hell is that?” Peter asked, trying to wave it out of his eyes, but all it did was send it in her direction. It prickled at her nose and curled inside her mouth, sweetly melting against her tongue like cotton candy. “Was there a note with it? Or one of those little… tabs that tells the species?”

“No note—” she turned her head to cough as it stung her eyes. “I think it’s pollen? I don’t know anything about plants other than they make spring miserable. I have a basil plant at home that keeps dying no matter—”

His hands stilled, gripping the dustpan with white knuckles. “You brought… a plant with no note into the lab?”

Nerves struck her. She hadn’t considered it might be dangerous. They were just yellow flowers, right? The things that grew in gardens and brightened up bodegas. Oh God, she was so fired. This wouldn’t have happened if she’d stayed on day shift. She was overtired and had now possibly compromised herself and Peter. “I thought maybe you had— maybe someone sent them to you?”

“Someone had sent them to me?” he repeated with wide eyes, an edge of panic lacing his words as he ran a hand through his thick hair. “Who do you think is sending me flowers?”

“I don’t know!” she spluttered as blood rushed to her face. “I don’t know who you hang out with outside of work!” Her mouth was paper dry out of nowhere, and she swallowed hard, wiping her suddenly damp palms on her thighs. The lab coat was uncomfortably scratchy against her skin, and she wondered if maybe the laundry had switched detergents. And she was warm, God, why was it hot? It was November, for fucksake. It had to be from screwing up so spectacularly. Just nerves. She shrugged the coat off, even though it went against protocol. She’d already broken one rule, what the hell did another matter at this point? The air against her skin was a shock— she wasn’t just warm, she was burning up. “Did you mess with the thermostat when I left?” she asked. Sweat beaded along the back of her neck, dewdropping her temple. Gross.

Peter shook his head wordlessly, eyes fixed on her. A strange expression crossed his face for a moment, something unreadable. Was he mad? Disappointed? Disappointed was so much worse than mad; the thought of letting him down was awful. He must think she was a total idiot.

She noticed his hands shake for just a split second. Glancing down, she watched her own palms tremble. It felt like she was looking at someone else’s body, and a bolt of fear went through her, knife-sharp in her chest. The air was thick, almost humid, but it wasn’t that. It wasn’t like anything she’d ever felt. But it had to be anxiety from fucking up. “Okay, well, I guess… let’s just get back to work? It’s probably nothing, it’s just… it has to be nothing. Just a stupid plant that got delivered to the wrong part of the building,” she suggested hopefully. Everything was fine, she was just freaking out for fucking up, and the room wasn’t warm, she was just mortified. “I’m sorry about the plant, I wasn’t thinking, I just, I picked it up and I thought, I don’t know, maybe someone sent you flowers and, like, what a cute reversal on gender— gender norms, right, guys never get sent flowers—”

“Hey, whoa,” Peter interrupted her, brow furrowed. Silver coated the apples of his cheeks, and absurdly, she was reminded of The Wizard of Oz. When she swiped at her own face, her fingers came back shiny, and she tried to rub it off on her thighs. “You’re going a mile a minute. Just take a breath, okay? Everyone gets one free fuck up.”

“I feel funny,” she mumbled, blinking rapidly. His face swam for a moment, features swirling like a funhouse mirror, and she leaned against the counter to steady herself.

He reached out to touch her hand, and it took forever. Slow motion like a warped VHS, staticky and jerky and wrong. Blinking didn’t help, it just made her eyes heavier each time. His fingers brushed against her wrist in what was probably meant to be a comforting gesture, but it was somehow the best and worst thing she’d ever felt. Soothing and terrible all at once. It took every bit of control she had not to grab him and pull him close so she could revel in his touch.

“Look at me,” he said gently, completely unaware that he was making her skin buzz. Fire licked at her, and she wondered if she wouldn’t burst apart from the heat. “Your eyes are…” he was still talking, but she couldn’t hear anything over the roar of her own heart.

“What?” she asked stupidly, watching words fall from his lips that she couldn’t understand. Lips that would probably feel so fucking good against hers. Wait, no. What the hell was wrong with her? Was it— it wasn’t. It couldn’t be the flowers. This wasn’t a thing that flowers did. It would be common knowledge if a species like that existed.

“Sit down,” he said patiently, pushing her gently onto the stool. His hand was a brand on her shoulder. “Your eyes are glassy. I’m gonna get the first aid kit, just stay right here.”

She nodded when she really wanted to beg him not to leave, to stay there and touch her hand and her cheek and her neck— oh, she was dizzy. Experimentally, she ran her fingers against her neck and jolted when sparks lit across her skin. All she could think to do was lean down and press her forehead to the cool counter, and she wondered if she’d leave a sweat-stamp behind. The lab felt like a swamp, and she imagined alligators and cottonmouths and mosquitos closing in on her, ready to tear her into pieces. There were too many things touching her but she couldn’t just take her clothes off at work, who the hell did something like that? CEOs, probably.

There was a beeping sound somewhere to her left, and she turned to see Peter with a digital thermometer. Had he always been so tall? He seemed so much taller today.

“I shouldn’t have touched those flowers, I shouldn’t have brought them in,” she said as he scanned her forehead. “I think I’m having a reaction to it, I…”

“Well, your temperature is just over one hundred,” he told her with a frown, pressing the inside of his wrist to her temple. She almost grabbed his arm right then and there. “You don’t sound great. Can you breathe all right?”

She couldn’t. Every breath was brutal, like the air was suddenly full of fiberglass. It stung her esophagus all the way into her chest. All she could manage was to shake her head, and a tremor wracked her body.

“You’re shaking really badly,” he said with a furrowed brow. “I think we need to get you to the hosp—”

She shook her head frantically. The only thing she could think was fucking flowers, how could flowers cause this? It made no sense. And worse, she wasn’t just boiling hot and shuddering uncontrollably, but she was turned on. It was an empty feeling; a hollow starving ache that she needed to fill. It was also beginning to overpower the pain with a new kind of hurt. All she could do was press her thighs together and hope it would pass. “We can’t go anywhere, we don’t know what this is. What if it’s deadly? Remember that movie? 12 Monkeys with— with Bruce Willis?” Was she talking too loudly? She was, right? It was hard to tell, because everything was echoing off the ceiling, pinging through her skull incessantly.

“I think we’re still a few years away from cracking time travel, sweetheart,” he tried to console her, but the pet name made her dizzy with want. He’d never called her that before, just her name. Why had he said that? When she dared to look up at him, she saw that he looked just a bit off. Flushed neck, wide dark eyes, and his breathing was shallow. Oh God, it was happening to him now. Oh, shit, if she was turned on, then he—

“Peter—” she began, not sure how to warn him. What the hell was she supposed to say? Oh, this was a fucking disaster, and she’d caused it because she was irresponsible.

“I feel weird,” he muttered, so quietly she thought she might have imagined it at first. “Really weird.”

“Weird how?”

“Lightheaded,” he replied, but it was more of a question. Lightheaded? “I don’t know, it’s— it’s warm in here, yeah.” He reached for a pipette, and she couldn’t focus on anything other than his fingers. Long fingers, good fucking Lord. Heat crept up her neck and spread to her face, but she couldn’t make herself look away. She also couldn’t make herself care; maybe she wanted him to notice that she was staring at him.

“You have big hands,” she blurted out, completely unashamed. He did have big hands. Hands that would probably feel really good on her hips and throat and thighs. She blinked, trying to clear her thoughts. But something in her was upended entirely, swirling and airy and wanting, curling through her body uncomfortably hard. She didn’t feel in control in the slightest, and it was equal parts unnerving and exhilarating.

“Yeah?” he asked, and when he met her eyes, his gaze was dark. Not the kind eyes that she was accustomed to, but something else. Dangerous. But it didn’t scare her. Instead, her heart kicked up.

“Yeah,” she nodded, trying to figure out why she’d said that to him. It was like someone else was piloting her mouth, someone much bolder than her. Did she think Peter was attractive? Yes. Had her mind drifted to him late at night a few times? Also yes. Was she someone who commented on her friend’s hands during work hours? Never. “Something’s wrong with me,” she tried to explain, licking her lips. The sensation of it took her breath away. Her skin was fucking burning, ready to split under the slightest pressure. “Something’s— something’s really wrong, Peter. I’m not me. I don’t…” she trailed off blankly, looking to him for help. It was impossible to articulate what she was feeling, because she was about to lose her mind.

She stood and took a wobbly step and all she could smell was him. It was overwhelming— something woodsy and masculine with just a hint of the cinnamon gum he always chewed and she wanted to shove her face into the crook of his neck and lick at his pulse. Arousal spiked through her at the thought and she froze in place, staring up at him. Words failed her. He had such a pretty face, and she’d never really looked at his mouth before, and now that’s all she was looking at.

But he took a step back. “I think you should get out,” he muttered, looking back down at his work.

“What?” she asked, taking another step. It wasn’t even her choice, it was like she was being compelled forward, yanked like a marionette by some unseen hand. She needed to be near him, needed something. Needed—

His head was down, but his breathing was completely off-kilter now. She reached for his shoulder, and he dodged her hand.

“I think you should get out,” he repeated sharply. Sweat had darkened his hairline, and a drop slowly slid down the side of his face. It was hypnotic.

“I can’t.”

He looked up sharply, nostrils flared. “Something’s very wrong with us.” His voice was strained, his words deliberate and measured. “I don’t think we should be near each other. I really think you should go—”

“Go where? We can’t open the door, we’ll let it out,” she pointed out, wringing her hands uselessly. Another shudder ripped through her, setting her ablaze. Everything in her body was contradictory: her cloudy brain and her shaking hands, her heavy eyes and her pounding heart. And every time she looked at Peter, something nudged at her, deep in her bones. The collar of his lab coat was begging to be yanked on—

“I don’t know!” he exclaimed, shoving his chair back and shooting to his feet. His pupils were blown out, leaving his eyes practically black, and she wanted him to push her up against the wall and knock the breath from her lungs. “But if you stay here—”

“You’re not being fair,” she accused. Angry tears burned at her eyes and she wiped at them in embarrassment. There were too many emotions competing inside her, twisting into a terrible storm of fear and lust and frustration. “You feel it too, that’s why you want me to leave. But I can’t leave, I can’t take the subway, I can’t be on the subway feeling like— like I’m gonna fucking die.”

Peter’s breath was coming in sharp exhales that skittered invitingly across her brain and she imagined him panting against her neck while his hips slammed into hers. “What are we supposed to do?” he asked. He gripped the edge of the counter, and she wondered if he might snap. A muscle twitched in his jaw and it only made her think of his stubble between her thighs, scraping her soft skin until she was red and raw. Every thought she had was being rerouted to sex. Oh, this was bad, this was so—

“Can you make it stop?” she asked. Begged. His face went white at her question, and his fingers dug into the counter even harder as he stared at their abandoned work. Her lungs were so tight in her chest she wondered if she wasn’t having a panic attack on top of everything else. All she could feel was her heartbeat hammering away in her throat like a wild thing; a caged animal hellbent on escape. “You always fix everything, you always figure it out. When you touched my wrist, it felt so much better. I need— can you just—”

Helplessly, he looked up at her and she hated herself for asking him to be the one to solve the problem she’d caused. “This isn’t us talking right now, it’s that— that plant. We can’t just—”

“I know I shouldn’t ask you this,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye. She’d never been so turned on in her life, and her whole body ached with it. And for what? Because she’d touched a mystery plant. It was shameful; she was practically begging him to fuck her. “But I feel— I feel like I’m gonna die, and I know it’s not fair, Peter, you’re my friend. It’s not fair of me and I’m sorry.” Again, she took a step, and another until she was just inches from him.

He caught her before she could close that agonizing space between them, and the pressure of his hands felt so good that she let out a ragged sigh. She wanted to tell him to squeeze harder, until his fingerprints left tattoos on her skin, until it hurt. Maybe more pain would push this horrible feeling out, or at least distract from it.

“I don’t want you to hate me,” he ground out miserably, fingers tight against her biceps, twin stars on her skin. “I can’t have that, I can’t have you hate me.”

“I don’t want you to hate me either.” Had she always sounded so breathy? She shook her head so hard that the room tilted under her feet. Desperation pulled at every part of her, and it was becoming difficult to string a sentence together. “I wouldn’t hate you, Peter, I would never, please—”

She didn’t get to finish. Peter yanked her flush against him and it was too much and not enough all at once. He was hard against her hip and that was enough to send her knees buckling.

“Whoa,” he muttered as he threaded his fingers through her hair, tilting her head so she was forced to look up at him, and the tight pressure of his hand rocketed through her, making every part of her body clench. “I’m fucked up, I’m sorry.”

“I am too.” His nose brushed hers and she grabbed his collar, pulling him close.

“We can’t undo this,” he said hoarsely as she shoved the lab coat down his surprisingly big shoulders. Their PPE was so unflattering and boxy that it was nearly impossible to tell what anyone looked like under it. “I don’t know if I can stop if we start.”

“I don’t know if I can either.”

His eyes searched hers. “You’re sure you want this?”

God, he was somehow still nice, despite the fact that she had exposed them to some kind of aphrodisiac. Even now, he was trying to give her one last out, when he was clearly in just as much agony as she was. In the very back of her mind, she knew this could wreck their friendship, but the only thing she could focus on was how she was close enough to see the smallest bits of honey in his brown eyes and how she wanted him to pin her to the ground, hard enough that she’d feel it for days.

Instead of replying, she kissed him hard, and a second later, his hand was on her ass, holding her against him as he caught her bottom lip in his teeth. The way he held her made her feel small, but somehow so good, because she knew he was going to make her feel better. Peter could fix this.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” she panted between frantic kisses. His tongue was in her mouth and she sighed in relief as he dug his hands into her hips. He tasted wonderful sweet— from the pollen, she supposed, because why else would he taste like sugar? God, she hadn’t been kissed in months, and she’d never been kissed like this— thorough and passionate and like she was the only thing on the planet that mattered. Nothing else, only her. Desire spiked sharp in her blood and she reached up to tug at his hair, and when he groaned into her mouth it coiled through her painfully. It was bordering on uncomfortable, how turned on she was, and she felt like a ticking time bomb. It was threatening to undo her until she was nothing.

“It’s okay, don’t apologize,” he urged as he broke away from her. “Fuck, you’re shaking so hard.”

“Please touch me,” she begged. Embarrassingly, a tear slipped down her cheek and he wiped it away, his thumb burning her skin. For a moment, she thought he might ask if she was sure again, but instead, he leaned down and buried his face against her neck, his stubble scratching at her roughly. When his teeth found her pulse, she let out a whine. She’d never made a noise like that in her life, but any shame she’d had was long gone. “Please, Peter, I—”

“Hate hearing you beg,” he said, shoving his hand between them, plucking at the button on her jeans. “I’ll give you whatever you need, okay? Gonna make it all better, I swear.” His voice was soft but low, fucking blown apart with lust and it was doing nothing to soothe her. It felt like an eternity passed before she heard the creak of her zipper and felt him tug her jeans and underwear down just enough to get his hand between her thighs.

She couldn’t even talk. Every word she’d ever known had fallen out of her head, and she was sure she looked stupid, all slackjawed and blank as she stared up into his dark eyes. When his thumb brushed her clit, she had to grab his shoulders so she didn’t collapse to the ground. “Peter—”

“I know,” he assured her, leaning down to kiss her as he rubbed tight circles against her. It was just enough to take the sting out of her chest. His other hand was gripping the base of her skull, and she needed that, needed him to hold her and tell her what to do until her head cleared. “Need you to kiss me back, okay? Need you to try to give it back to me. Can you do that?”

With a nod, she closed her eyes as he kissed her again, working her mouth open with his, summer-hot and molasses-slow. But it was hard to focus on that because the heel of his hand was pressed to her clit now and he was telling her how wet she was, fucking cooing the words to her in a low voice that she couldn’t handle. Trying to find friction, she bucked her hips against his palm and he slid a finger inside her. Stars flashed across her vision and she looked up at him, into those bright eyes that she liked so much, to find him watching her closely.

“You need more?” he asked, his voice rough against her swollen lips, and she nodded so quickly her nose bumped his. She jumped when he pressed another finger in, curling them against something deep inside her that was making her legs shake already. The heat in her body was at a dull roar but it still hurt, and she ground down against his hand in an attempt to find relief.

God, this was embarrassing; she was squirming uncontrollably and out of her mind with how he was fucking her with his fingers and it still wasn’t enough.

“Let’s get this off, come on.” He tugged at her shirt with his free hand, maneuvering her around like she weighed nothing. And thank God he still seemed to have some of his faculties about him, because her head was full of nothing but air and the singular goal of coming. Maybe if she could get off it would reset her? With shaking hands, she helped him get her black tank over her head, and then unhooked her bra, tossing it unceremoniously to the side. The cold air made her skin itch. He froze for a minute as he took her in, eyes roaming over her like he didn’t believe what he was seeing. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

Somehow, there was room for her to grow even warmer from his words, but there wasn’t any time for her to say anything intelligible because he was leaving sloppy kisses against her collarbone and breasts, sucking bruises against her sensitive skin. He was still fucking her with his long fingers, encouraging her to ride his hand, and she was unsteadily trying to follow his movements. “Feels so good,” she panted as his hand blurred between her thighs. Sharp pleasure tugged at her, deep in her belly, and her calves began to shake as an orgasm finally, blessedly, pulled her under. She shoved her face against his sternum, breathing in that scent that was so perfectly him. There was a rumble in his chest; she blinked up at him and watched how beautifully his mouth moved.

“Huh?” she asked inelegantly.

“Are you okay?”

No. It still felt like there were subwoofers in her chest, booming under her ribs. “It still— still hurts, it’s this pressure—” she babbled as she shook her head. Peter shifted against her, his hard cock nudging her hip, reminding her that she wasn’t the only one who was hurting. “But you— you still need…” she said, reaching for his belt. Maybe a task would distract her from it all. Not that it was a task, she wanted to touch him.

“You don’t— you don’t have to,” he protested weakly, taking her wrist and holding it still. “You don’t need to do that. I can—”

“But you told me to give it back to you.”

That got his attention.

She reached for him again, palming him gently while he guided her hand, his fingers tightening against her as she explored the length of him, which, Jesus Christ, Peter Parker. Swallowing hard, she looked up at him again, and he was staring at her so adoringly that she was reaching up to kiss him before she knew what she was doing.

“I don’t think I’m in control of myself,” he whispered as she kissed her way down to his jaw, nipping at his pulse point, sucking a mark there that made him groan loudly. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Do what you want, you won’t hurt me,” she assured him as she yanked his shirt over his head and how the hell had she missed that he was in devastatingly good shape? Lean and toned and fucking beautifully muscled with a collarbone that she would write a poem about if she wasn’t so fucked up.

“Can’t say things like that to me, I can’t—” he tried to warn her, but she cut him off with another kiss and pulled him down to the floor because she could barely stand. Her legs were still trembling, and her theory of regaining control was very wrong, because now she just wanted more and more until it broke her irreparably.

He helped her kick off the rest of her clothes and then yanked her into his lap, holding her thighs apart so he could grind up against her cunt. She was still sensitive and it skated along the edge of pain, the way the denim rubbed against her. He was so fucking hard under her that she was bordering on stupid with lust, but her hands were shaking too hard now to unbutton his pants. “I can’t get this.”

His hand was in her hair again, holding her tightly as he kissed her, and his other hand slid between them, working the button open. She reached down to help shove them off, frantic to have him inside of her, to drown out the screaming want in her head.

“Wallet’s in my locker,” he realized as he kicked his jeans and shoes off, his voice miserable. “I don’t—”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m on the pill,” she interrupted as she clumsily pulled at his boxers. His cock sprang out, thick and beautiful and achingly hard, and he groaned when she wrapped her hand around him and began to stroke him. Part of her was worried she wouldn’t be able to take him, and the other part couldn’t wait to find out. “Please, I need you.”

Gently, he pushed her back against the cold tile. “Don’t wanna hurt you,” he told her again as he slotted his hips between hers, his cock sliding through her soaked folds, sending a shock through her as he ground against her clit just right. “Shouldn’t be like this, on the floor of the fucking lab, you deserve—”

“I deserve whatever you wanna give me,” she breathed, reaching for his broad shoulders as he loomed over her like a storm. There was a darkness in his eyes; he wasn’t quite himself, but neither was she. They could meet in the middle of whatever this was. “Please.”

He nodded, and she didn’t know how he had any self-control left, because she’d stopped trying to find hers. Maybe it wasn’t affecting him as badly since he was bigger. Maybe he was fighting it harder than she was. Maybe—

“Put your arms around me,” he told her. He had her spread open with his thighs, and the pollen had her arching into him in anticipation. Embarrassingly, she couldn’t stay still, jerking like she was being manipulated by puppet strings, and he gently held her face in his hand, forcing her to look at him. She could feel the blunt head of him right at her entrance, and she nodded. That was all he needed, and he sank into her slowly.

It was so much that she came immediately. It hadn’t even felt good, because she was so wound up that it barely registered. Just a painful whip crack through her body. Her legs were trembling and hot tears rolled down her face like she’d just finished throwing a tantrum. Peter wiped them away gently, shaking with the effort of staying still, trying to give her a chance to adjust to him because he was big, God he was big. “I’m sorry,” she tried to tell him, but he shook his head.

“Did you just come?” he asked, wide-eyed, and she was so humiliated that she turned her face away from him. “Did it help?”

“No,” she confessed. He twitched inside her and she rolled her hips up into his as she cupped his face in her hands, feeling a muscle tic under her palm. She liked how his stubble scratched at her, and how he was looking down at her with worry in his eyes. Even through all of the chaos, he cared about her. “Feels like you’re gonna break me apart.”

He groaned at her words, shuddering between her thighs, fucking swelling harder inside her, stretching her deliciously. “Okay.” He kissed her thumb as it brushed his bottom lip. “We’ll try again, okay?”

“Okay.” The word was barely out of her mouth before he rocked back and thrust into her at such an angle that it sent her eyes rolling back in her head.

The pace he set was brutal. Her nails scraped across his back, and she vaguely registered how muscled he was, but she couldn’t even wonder about that because he was panting divinely against her neck as he fucked her and it was so deep that her vision blurred at the edges. She arched up, trying to plant her heels against the floor, but he grabbed the backs of her knees and held her in place, spread open and helpless under him.

“Need you like this,” he told her with a gasp. “Just like this, can you stay like this for me?”

Part of her spun-out mind wondered if he wouldn’t shatter her, and she didn’t even care because it would be such a nice way to go. Pleasure built and built inside her, hot and golden and swirling this time, and her heart was beating so fast she was sure he could hear it. “Peter, I’m gonna—”

“That's it,” he urged, his big hand pressed to her cheek. “Come on, sweet girl.”

The pet name broke her, and another orgasm crashed through her, rolling through her body like thunder. But she felt every part of this one, clenching around him as she shuddered in his arms, trying to grab his shoulders for leverage. He kept fucking her, and he was saying something that she couldn’t hear over her own sighs. When she fell still and her vision cleared, she could see that his eyes were wild.

“I can feel your heart,” he grunted, dropping his head to gently kiss her breasts, tongue flicking lazily across her nipples. He’d slowed his movements but was still driving into her at a steady pace, his narrow hips rolling into hers like an ocean wave. She was soaked between her legs, fucking dripping with how bad she wanted him. “Doing so well.”

“How are you not— how are you not losing your mind?“ she stuttered.

He brushed her damp hair from her cheek. “I am.” A weak laugh left her and he groaned, dropping his mouth to her throat. “Don’t laugh when I’m inside you, holy shit.”

Miserably, she realized her chest was still painfully tight, that the pollen was continuing to scratch at her from the inside out. “It hurts,” she whispered, gripping his hand, lacing her fingers through his as though they were having some sort of tender discussion.

Peter stopped moving, a frown splitting his handsome face. “Me?”

She shook her head, squirming up against him like it would kickstart his hips. “No, the— the pollen. You feel good, you feel so good, Peter.”

With a slow thrust, he canted forward again and she sighed in relief. “You’re so fucking sweet,” he murmured as he caught her nipple in his teeth, sucking it until she cried out. His voice was quicksand-thick, pulling her helplessly into him. She didn’t want to fight it for a second. “Arch your back, let me have you.”

She obeyed him more than willingly, gasping as his tongue traced along the curve of her breast, humming in pleasure as he continued to fuck her. His control seemed to come and go in waves, his gentleness coming through in his words and movements until it was too much and his hips ground relentlessly into hers, circling until she couldn’t breathe. But even when he was saying filthy things to her, they were honey-laced. Even if she was completely herself, she’d still fall head over heels for his pretty words, calling her beautiful and sweet like he’d done it a million times before.

It was difficult to tell, but she thought maybe her head had cleared just a bit, like the sun poking its way through storm clouds. Tentatively, she traced up along his side, exploring the dip of muscle at his hip, and honestly what the hell was a lab geek like him doing with this sort of body? Peter Parker seemed to be full of surprises, and she wondered what else she’d learn about him.

Silvery smears decorated his collarbone, and she licked it all off, pleased when he moaned her name brokenly. “You taste good,” she said as he fisted her hair in his hand and nipped at the underside of her jaw.

“Yeah?” he panted, and she nodded as he easily flipped her onto her stomach. “You know how good you smell?”

She shook her head, arching in surprise when she felt his mouth at the base of her spine, dropping a line of wet kisses up her back and licking the salt from her shoulder. There was barely any time before he was pushing into her again, thick and blunt and practically splitting her apart but she didn’t care, she just needed him to make her forget what was happening to her. She couldn’t get enough of him, didn’t want anything else but him telling her obscene things as he licked into her mouth like he was the one who needed her.

Peter covered her easily with his body, lacing his fingers through hers as he pinned her hands to the floor, effectively immobilizing her. And she fucking loved it, being shoved flat under him, her cheek pressed to the ground as he moved in slow, deep strokes. “Feel so perfect, sweetheart, can’t stand it,” he muttered as he rose up on his knees, pulling her back with him so she was flush against his chest. It felt like he was literally fucking her brains out, like she was getting dumber every time he sank into her cunt. She could hear herself, making airy little noises as he wrung pleasure from her. Each thrust was harsh, harsher than she’d thought someone as nice as him would be capable of. But she also hadn’t expected all those muscles, muscles that were pressed into her spine and shoulders and hips. The only word she could manage to say was his name over and over, Peter Peter Peter, like she was trying to pray to him, ask for absolution and maybe he could save her from this if she begged sweetly enough.

“You’re close, I can feel you clenching around me,” he growled in her ear, his hips slamming into hers. The lab echoed with the harsh slap of his skin against hers and her broken pleas. “Come on.” He reached between her legs, his other arm holding her in place, so tight she thought he would bruise her ribs but the idea of seeing him left behind on her skin made her whimper.

She came with a particularly hard thrust, going limp against him as stars streaked across the black of her closed eyes. Sweat dripped down her neck and he licked at it with a groan, his teeth catching against her shoulder. He didn’t stop moving, just slowed his pace down.

“Want you,” she whispered, reaching back to tug at his thick hair. As she turned around to kiss him, she wrapped her hand around his dick, greedily swallowing the helpless noise he made.

“Yeah,” he said mindlessly as she kissed her way down his chest, letting her knees buckle as she made her way to his hip, and she was so confused because she’d spent months thinking he was skinny under that lab coat when he looked like an Olympian. “Use your hand, just like that.”

Twisting her wrist slowly, she looked up at him as he staggered back heavily into the counter. She leaned forward, gently flicking her tongue against the swollen head of his cock, and he swore, grabbing her hair. Normally, she didn’t like when someone did that to her, but none of what was happening was normal. Instead, she leaned into his grip and ran her tongue along the length of him, tasting herself. When she moaned against him he pulled her away, his hand shaking as he touched her cheek reverently. Under it all, she knew he was trying to exercise some self-control. She’d never been with someone who had lasted so long, and she wondered if it was him or the pollen.

“Please let me?” she asked, tracing a thin scar on his thigh before kissing it. There was a set of larger ones across his chest and she could not imagine how the hell he’d gotten those. Maybe she didn’t know him as well as she’d thought. “I want to.”

He blinked down at her owlishly, like his brain had shorted out, sparking and malfunctioning in his head as she ran her fingers up his hip. Wordlessly, he guided her back and she opened her mouth eagerly, desire pooling between her thighs. “There you go,” he muttered, as she let him push his cock between her lips, eyes watering at the size of him as he slid across her tongue. “Good girl, you’re such a good girl.”

His face was nothing short of wrecked, and she began to wonder if his stamina was as out of control as hers was. She wasn’t tired at all and he didn’t seem to be either. His grip tightened in her hair as he picked up speed, rolling his hips into her mouth. This was not something she’d ever done before— let herself be used like this— but she liked how he was muttering her name as he fucked her mouth, clutching her like a lifeline. It was messy and frantic and he was being a little too rough but the pollen smoothed it all out, turning everything dreamy. The way he was groaning fuck fuck fuck good girl just like that was shooting through her and she thought she was going to come just from the sounds he was making.

Suddenly, he hit the back of her throat and it was too much, pulling her sharply back to reality. She pulled off of him with a gasp and wiped the back of her mouth, and when she looked up she barely recognized the man standing above her. His disheveled hair hung in his dark eyes and he was shaking like she was now, unnatural movements that shuddered through his chest and shoulders. Grabbing her by the wrist, he pulled her up so quickly she almost lost her balance, his mouth slanting over hers hungrily, almost violently. “Shouldn’t be doing this to you,” he mumbled as he lifted her up, stepping between her thighs, “I’m out of my fucking mind. Should be treating you better, shouldn’t be fucking your mouth.”

“It’s oh— okay,” she moaned as his hand drifted up her stomach to palm her breast. “I liked it.”

“Lie back for me,” he said, lacing his fingers through hers. The counter was cool against her sweaty skin and he was kissing his way down her stomach, nipping at her ribs. “Shouldn’t be eating you out on a fucking counter,” he groaned, whispering her name against her hip as he yanked her knees over his shoulders, laying her bare to him.

“I like when you say my— my name,” she whispered, and he growled it out against the top of her thigh. “Peter, please— oh—”

Again, that helpless feeling returned as he shoved her legs open and licked into her cunt, feverishly hot as he began to pull her apart again. Heat raced through her belly at an alarming rate, and she arched her back when his tongue slanted inside her. When she looked down, she found that he was looking at her with such intensity that it was her undoing. With shaking hands, she reached down to pull at his hair, but her orgasm ripped through her before she could touch him, and she was twisting away from his mouth because it was too much, too intimate, he couldn’t just look at her like that. Tears streamed down her face and she let out a pathetic sob as he helped her sit up, taking her face in his big hands.

“Don’t cry, please don’t cry, sweetheart,” he urged her and she was lost in his pretty eyes for a moment. “Tell me to stop and I’ll try, I swear.”

She shook her head, terrified at the prospect of losing his touch. Of losing him. “I don’t want you to stop, please don’t stop.”

His slick mouth crashed into hers and it was a relief, like water in the desert. Reaching between them, she touched him and his breath stuttered. Emboldened, she wrapped her hand around his cock and he thrust into her hand with a groan, pulling her off the counter to stand on unsteady legs. “Just like that, fuck. Beautiful fucking girl, can’t believe I never told you.”

She couldn’t answer him because his tongue was sliding against hers like she belonged to him and she was just whimpering pathetically into his mouth while she jerked him off. Never in her life had she felt so scatterbrained and overstimulated, and she was trying so hard to help him too but when he was calling her things like beautiful and good girl and sucking bruises against her neck, it made it nearly impossible. His free hand slipped between her legs and she’d lost track of how many times she’d come because it was all blurring together in her foggy little brain. Everything ached but there was still something she was trying to chase, something more that she needed. Something still twisting through her like a vine, seeking and coiling and pulling relentlessly. “Need you inside me,” she pleaded as she twisted her wrist. “I need it, please, you make me feel so good.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, kissing the corner of her mouth as he helped her to the floor and she shifted so he could position himself between her legs. “You need it?”

She nodded and he thrust hard, bottoming out with one stroke. The noise that left her was a gasp, and she closed her eyes at the fullness. She couldn’t move and she didn’t care because the only thing that mattered was how he was looking at her, black-eyed with lust as he started to pound into her again. He hadn’t even come yet, and they’d been fucking for what felt like ages. Maybe the pollen worked differently on men and women.

“You gonna come again?” he asked roughly, dipping his face against her shoulder, licking the sweat from her skin. His tongue traced the cords of muscle in her throat lazily, charting her for his own. “Feels so good when you come on my cock.”

“I like when you make me take it,” she told him, fingers slipping against his strong hips.

“Fuck,” he rasped out, and he pulled her on top of him. Something in the back of her head loved how he was manhandling her, using her, but he wasn’t really, was he? He was chasing her pleasure down as much as his. It certainly wasn’t selfish, how he was fucking her. Somehow, he was still clear enough to keep his focus on her most of the time. “Give it back to me.”

Her legs shook from the stretch of him but she was so desperate to make him feel good that she rose up on her knees and sank down hard, bracing herself against his toned chest. There were tiny freckles across his torso and arms, like someone had carelessly flung them there, and she tried to pick one to focus on while she ground down onto him. It proved impossible, because he groaned low and deep and she looked up to see his head tip back and she could not look away from the long column of his throat. “Ride me just like that, fuck, that’s good.”

Her heart sped up at his words and she leaned forward, sinking down with slow rolls of her hips while her hand drifted toward his neck. His pulse shuddered under her fingers and he locked his arm around her back, forcing her closer, sending a thrill through her body. “Wanna make you feel good, wanna help you,” she said as yanked her into a punishing kiss, his teeth scraping against her lip.

“Keep looking at me with those pretty eyes,” he groaned against her mouth, his hips slamming up into hers, punching the breath from her lungs. “Taking me so well, fucking use me and make yourself come.”

This time, his words were an overload. A strange feeling came over her; a lightheadedness that she didn’t recognize. It was easier to just bury her face against his shoulder while he continued to fuck her stupid and whisper filthy praise into her ear. But then her body began to shake again, starting in her calves and climbing up into her shoulders. Dimly, she knew that it wasn’t the pollen. “Peter, I’m gonna…” she trailed off, not entirely sure what she was trying to tell him.

“Give me one more, sweetheart,” he encouraged, not slowing down. “Come on.”

“It’s not…” she tried to say as dark spots swam in her vision and her limbs went limp. For a few seconds, she couldn’t hear anything, just distant echoes. Peter was cradling her face when she could see again and all she could manage was blinking down at him.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” His brown eyes swam into view, and he gently patted her cheek. “I’m so sorry, holy shit. Are you okay?”

It was hard to have a conversation when he was still buried to the hilt inside her, and all she could do was laugh. Laugh at how absolutely insane it was that he’d fucked her so hard she’d passed out. It wasn’t funny at all, but she couldn’t stop giggling. But above all that, she still ached. Impossibly, she still ached. Self-preservation screamed in the back of her head somewhere to stop but she ignored it. Chasing pleasure was more important, the way Peter was holding her and kissing her and ruining her was so much more important than stopping. She didn’t care, she just needed him.

“I’m fine.” She kissed his thumb, watching his eyes dilate. Slowly, he slid it into her mouth and groaned when she swirled her tongue around him.

“Don’t do that,” he warned, trembling under her with the effort of staying still. But he made no move to stop her, eyes glued to her mouth as she continued. There was a warning nudge of his hips, and she nodded eagerly. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

He exhaled thoughtfully, stroking her face as he contemplated her. Sometimes the looks he gave her were more intimate than what they were doing, and it lit her up inside. “Gonna go slow, okay?”

It was almost too tender, the way he pulled out of her and carefully laid her back. The cool tile was a balm, and she stared up at the speckled ceiling while he gently rubbed her thigh.

“Come back to me,” she asked, reaching for him. But Peter was busy near her knees, pressing lazy open-mouth kisses up to her hips like they had all the time in the world. Time that she has no gauge for; she didn’t know if they’d been in the lab for hours or days. Her brain was so scrambled that all she knew was him and his sun-bright warmth.

“Slow,” he reminded her as she wrapped her legs around his hips.

And it was slow. Achingly slow. He sank into her, letting her have him inch by inch until the air was gone from her lungs again. When she reached up to thread her fingers through his hair, he kissed the inside of her wrist and that little gesture made her heart sing. Gently, he pulled her knees up so he could press into her more deeply, and she sighed, tracing his jaw contentedly, trying to parse all the shades in his eyes.

“You’re beautiful too, you know,” she gasped, weakly rising to try to match his steady thrusts.

“You and your gender norms,” he chuckled, then groaned when she tightened around him, watching his eyes fall shut, dark lashes fluttering. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come.”

Pride streaked through her and she clenched around him again, pulling a growl from him. “I want you to, oh— like that—”

“Killing me with those pretty noises,” he grunted, finding the deepest parts of her each time with perfect drags of his cock.

“Want you to give it to me,” she whispered when he dropped his face to her shoulder. How he’d held out this long, she had no clue. Maybe he’d done it for her, some kind of insane self-control he was exercising until she was on the other side of whatever was happening. “Want you to come inside me.”

“Yeah?” He sloppily kissed her shoulder, his rhythm faltering at her words.

“Kiss me,” she ordered, not sure where her nerve had come from. “Please kiss me.”

His mouth was on hers instantly and she tugged on his hair before dragging her nails across his shoulders. “Fuck,” he groaned into her mouth, and she did it again, wanting to push him off the edge like he’d done for her countless times.

“Please,” she choked out, and he thrust into her one last time, grinding his hips hard into hers as he came deep inside her, panting into her mouth. It was an unfamiliar feeling because it wasn't something she ever did but for some reason it had been the only thing that made sense. She shuddered around him, small spasms racing through her body as he continued to pump his hips into hers, almost like he’d forgotten to stop fucking her.

The pain inside her was dull, and the claws that clutched her lungs were finally loosening. Relief swallowed her up as she ran her fingers through his sweaty hair. He was still twitching with aftershocks, nosing at her neck weakly, telling her how good she was.

“Are you okay?” she whispered, stroking his back as he pushed himself up on his forearms, caging her close as he studied her with clear brown eyes. There he was; there was Peter.

His face was incredulous. “Are you?” he asked, making no effort to move off of her.

She laughed, and her body had never felt heavier.

“Don’t laugh, don’t—” he muttered, kissing her with a grin to shut her up, but she was fading fast and could barely return it as his lips ghosted down her jaw.

The last thing she felt was his mouth against her temple, and she thought she heard him call her beautiful one more time.

Sore. That was all she could think. Sore.

There was a pair of muscular arms wrapped snugly around her, and a stubbled chin was tucked against her shoulder. A long leg was shoved between her own, and the other was slung over her calf.

Peter Parker.

Slowly, she opened her heavy eyes and carefully turned to face him, his hand slipping to her hip. She studied him blearily, sleep still pulling at her. Strangely, there were no marks on him that she could see. She knew she’d raked her nails across his back, bitten at his collarbone and chest, sucked marks onto his neck because that was the only way she could think to thank him. Where the hell had they gone? Meanwhile, she was covered with hickies and she felt like she’d been thrown from a moving car. Somehow, it felt wonderful. Gone was the confusion and the pain of arousal, and now she was left with the aftermath of what they’d done.

Oh, God.

She’d never been more relieved to realize it was a holiday and no one was coming in to work. The lab was a mess— clothes strewn all over, papers knocked askew, pipettes scattered across the floor, and one of her boots was on the counter. Their coats were on top of them as makeshift blankets; Peter must have done that because she didn’t even remember falling asleep.

Nerves began to pluck at her now that she was clear-headed: she and Peter had spent the entire night pulling each other apart over and over because she’d violated lab protocol with flowers. There was an unbelievable ache between her thighs, and her throat felt sore. Whether it was from crying or begging or from when she’d gone down on him, she wasn’t sure.

Pressing a hand to her forehead, she carefully shrugged out of his embrace. She’d begged him to fuck her and end the misery she’d caused, and he’d done it, over and over, sweet and rough and perfect. Sitting up, she pulled her legs to her chest and leaned her forehead against her knee, trying to take a steadying breath. He was going to hate her, no matter what he’d promised. Promises didn’t mean anything when they had both been fighting the urges that had bloomed inside them. They were just words, just excuses to try to find relief from the pollen.

Peter stirred beside her. “Hey,” he mumbled sleepily, his fingers gently tracing up her spine. “How’re you feeling?”

That was a loaded question. Terrified she’d wrecked their relationship. Exhausted. Humiliated.

“Sore,” was what she chose to say. You idiot. To his credit, he quietly continued stroking her back, and it felt so nice, his warm touch comforting in the early hours of the day. “But I’m me again.”

“Me too.”

They sat in silence, and it was absurd. They were naked in the lab and she’d never been more confused in her life. The things she’d said and did— who was that girl? Maybe the pollen had brought out a dormant part of her. “Peter, I’m sorry,” she mumbled, staring decidedly at her knees. “I think I ruined our friendship.”

He sat up with a grunt, and leaned his head against her shoulder. That was unexpected. “You didn’t ruin anything, sweetheart.”

Her heart tripped in her chest, and she turned to look at him. Sunlight streamed through the slats of the blinds, and God, he really was a pretty man to wake up next to.

“I’m sorry I brought that plant inside,” she apologized as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t know.”

With a frown, he gently tilted her head to the side, inspecting her neck. “I’m sorry I… did all that,” he replied sheepishly as his gaze swept across her breasts and thighs. “I should have been gentler, I’m so sorry. It felt like something else was in control. I tried so hard.”

“You’re not superhuman,” she reminded him, and he glanced down, lips twitching. “Peter, I felt like I was gonna die last night.”

“I did too.” He brushed a mark on her hip, and a shiver went up her spine at his touch.

“Buy a girl dinner first,” she tried to joke, because she was somehow nervous under his gaze even though he’d fucked her so hard she’d blacked out momentarily. But no, a gentle touch was somehow too much.

“I can do breakfast,” he offered quietly, planting a kiss on her shoulder, where he’d left behind a purple thumbprint of a bruise.

She blinked. “Really?”

“I like you, you know,” he told her matter-of-factly, pulling her to his chest as he lay back down with a groan. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you for a while.”

Oh.

“I like you too,” she admitted. His heart was slow and steady under her ear. Dependable. “We did this all backwards, huh?”

He snorted, tangling his fingers in her hair affectionately. “I usually wait until the fourth date to have plant-induced marathon sex with someone,” he teased gently and she swatted at his shoulder.

“I’m really glad Todd wasn’t on the schedule last night.”

Peter groaned. “Don’t bring him up.”

“He would have told us everything we were doing wrong,” she continued with a grin.

“‘When I don’t satisfy my wife, here’s how I do it’,” Peter intoned in a disturbingly good impression of their coworker’s Texan drawl, and she giggled, tracing a pale scar on his ribs as they fell quiet.

“Can we stay like this for just a few minutes?” she asked shyly, looking up at him.

He looked at her with another one of those reverent gazes. But now that he was clear-headed, it hit her even harder. No plant, just Peter. “Of course.”

She closed her eyes, letting the thump of his heart under her ear relax her. Every anxiety she’d had had completely dissipated, and now, as he toyed with her hair, she felt warm and safe. And even after the complete debauchery they’d been pulled into only hours ago, he wanted to take her out to breakfast.

Because Peter Parker really was a nice guy.

Spoiler alert: I put the plant there and the species is deus ex machina.

This is what happens when @mrshipsmcgee says "do it do it do it" so thank you for planting (ha ha haaaaaa I'm so funny) this idea in my head.

Taglist: @rae-gar-targaryen @letmeplaytheliontoo @mortwig @silkspiderstuff @mrshipsmcgee @fallensilencefics @withahappyrefrain @abibliophobiaa @squiddtheekidd

Let me know if you want to be added to future tags! Don't touch weird plants!

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 4 months ago

Note

Star anise for Peter in a ❣️ bottle. Where reader is the antagonist in the script and Peter is the main character. Silly goofiness commences once the director yells cut. Please!

*kicking my feet* hehehe actor! Peter 🥴 thank you! I hope you like your potion, bestie! ❤️

Pairing: Actor! Peter Parker x GN! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, CW blood mention, CW violence mention (both are fake though), FLUFF!

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

The knife in your hand trembles as sheer anger permeates through your body. There's crimson coating your hands and face, he swallows thickly at your deranged appearance, neck bobbing up and down, skin nicked by the sharp edge of your knife.

“Please don't,” he pleads, his own hands around your wrist, trying to stop the weapon from plunging into his soft skin. “You don't have to do this.” A single tear slides down his cheek, you inhale sharply at his attempt.

“Don't you see?” You seethe, teeth and jaw clenched. “It's already done.” Before the knife strikes him, you hear a loud whistle.

“Cut!” The director yells above the sound of fog machines. “Take a breather you two, until we set up the next scene!” The rest of the cast and crew scamper away towards the doors to be first in line for the catering truck. You and Peter stay on set, watching while everyone else leaves.

Peter snorts, giggling even though you're still above him with the fake knife aimed at his throat. “So menacing.”

You can't help but laugh as his hands fall limp at his side, with you mock stabbing him even making the iconic screeching sound from your favorite slasher movie. Peter acts dead from under you, tongue lolling out from the side of his mouth. When you tap him awake, he cracks one eye open with a growing smile on his lips. His brown hair is messed up for the scene, but he makes it work, adding to his charm.

“You were so convincing.”

“Yeah?” Peter tilts his head, hand snaking along your thighs up to your waist, holding you in place. “Did I look terrified?”

You whistle out, “Very, super scared of little old me.” Holding his hands above your waist, you squeeze and smear the fake sticky blood all over his hands. Peter lets out a disgusted sound, but he doesn't pull away.

“Careful now, you're starting to sound like your character.” You chuckle at his teasing, taking his hands off your waist to hold them properly. “Besides, I've got a great scene partner that's why I'm very convincing.” Peter responds by kneading your palms, a welcome comfort since you've been making stabbing motions for hours now.

“Oh? Who is this great scene partner so I may meet them.”

“You dork.” He says with endearment that oozes out from how he pecks each of your knuckles.

You lean down, lips puckered to meet his own lips halfway.

“Guys, come on!” The director cuts you both off, leaving you and Peter flustered, caught like a bunch of teenagers making out behind the school. “At least act like you hate each other.”

You look at Peter while he does the same, glancing at you with an amused raised brow. “Never!” You both say at the same time to the sighing director. Meanwhile he mumbles about how the audience will see the romantic tension between your characters instead of the opposite. His words fall on deaf ears as you and Peter look at each other warmly.

Peter makes his point across the moment the director turns his back. He pushes you gently downwards, warm hand upon the small of your back, lips smiling mischievously. You follow, hands braced on his chest, leaning down to press a sweetened kiss that has been made sweeter by the fake yet edible blood coating your lips.

Maybe they shouldn't hire real life partners to play on opposing sides.

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 4 months ago

Text

la que va a llorar voy a ser yo por no tenerlo en mi vida

pretty sounds | tasm!peter parker x reader

summary peter encourages you to make noise during your first time together

warnings nsfw (18+ please) shy!reader and adoring peter, fem!reader, p in v sex, idiots in love, sickly sweet sex, praise, fem!reader, she/her pronouns used for reader [word count: 3.4k] requested here

Peter's thigh is warm and big where it presses into yours. He's pulled your arm into his chest, one hand holding you to him and the other running lightly down your skin, up and down and up again. His touch is soft as a downy feather and you're a melted puddle under his ministrations.

Your face is burning hot. You're no stranger to Peter's tickling, the opposite - he does this whenever he can get his hands on you. He's the loveliest boyfriend ever. You can't tell whether he likes doing it or if he knows that you love it, but you adore him and his hands, and usually you'd be slouched into his side and drowsy by now, completely floored by his attention.

But you're not. Peter's confused by this, you're ashamed, and your warm skin is giving you away.

"Something on your mind?" he says, quiet, half as loud as the TV.

"Nothing," you whisper.

He hums, tickling coming to an end. He hugs your arms and tips his head against yours, soft brown hair brushing your cheek as he leans down and presses a chaste kiss to your bare shoulder.

"You sure?" he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose into your skin.

You don't like lying to him. He's never given you any reason to, and maybe loving someone means that you owe them honesty, even when the truth is scary to admit.

"I was thinking," you begin tentatively, voice a shard of its usual volume, "about, um…" still, it's hard to say.

Peter raises his head to watch your face patiently.

"Do you want to take the next step with me?" you ask, staring at the beauty mark under his nose. You can't look him in the eye.

"Are you proposing?" he asks, and at your aghast expression, "I'm sorry, baby, I'm just joking. Forgive me," he soothes, apologetic, the beginnings of excitement creeping into his voice.

"That's so mean," you complain under your breath.

"I'm sorry," he says again. He's on the edge of laughing, wrapping his arm around you, hand in the well of your shoulder. "How can I help teasing you when you react like this?"

He feels your cheeks with the back of his hand. "Y'burnin' up."

"Your fault." You sink deeper into the cushions and away from his probing. He drops his hand.

"You want to have sex?"

"With you."

"With me," he adds lightly.

"I'd like to," you manage, shying away from his gaze.

"In general or right now?" he asks.

You look down at your chest, watching it rise and fall rapidly. "Now, if you want to."

"Do you want to?" he asks carefully.

"Yes," you admit, louder than you mean to, like the bursting of a dam. "Yes. I want you," you say. You don't miss how desperate you sound and neither does Peter.

He has a look on his face that you've never seen before, and his answering exhale is erotic. He shifts so his back is pressed against the arm of the sofa, arms waiting on either side of his body.

"Come here?" he asks.

You bite the inside of your lip and stare at him for a few seconds, trying to calm down, trying to come to terms with what you're about to do, what he's about to do to you. You slowly climb up onto your knees and crawl to him. He grabs your thigh, his touch electric, and pulls you over his lap.

You steady yourself on his shoulders, looking to him for permission. He nods encouragingly. You set yourself down over his lap, hands trailing down his lovely arms until you find his fingers. He's quick to twine them together, and so you straddle him, your heat overtop his pelvis and your forearms pressed together.

You move your face towards his slowly, careful and scared. He waits, a statue. He's holding his breath.

You hesitate with your lips and inch apart from his. They suddenly feel chapped, and your tongue darts out to wet them.

Peter slowly steals his hands back, first to soothe your shaking arms, then your upper chest, fingers spread wide. One moves behind you to the small of your back, and you close your eyes as he pulls you forward.

His kiss is languid, hand climbing from your chest to your face, thumb digging into the corner of your mouth as he opens you up. You're a blooming flower with him, always, lips parting.

His tongue is warm. You sigh as he probes your mouth, pushing forward ardently. His arm tightens around you in response, pulling you in, and you think for the hundredth time that Peter can read your mind. The unexpected friction pulls a sound from you that you don't mean to give, breathy and high pitched and enough to make your cheeks burn.

Peter breaks the kiss abruptly. "That's was fucking adorable," he says, eyes wide. "You gonna make that sound again?"

You shake your head, smiling against your will, pushing in for another kiss, and another. Maybe you mean to or you don't, but you rock your hips against his with your arms wrapped around his neck and feel the evidence of his arousal grow underneath you.

This makes it worse, the puddle of heat in your abdomen turning to a pond, a lake, a vast ocean of wanting. Peter's arm is like steel around your waist and spiteful, dragging you up against the shape of his cock. You moan again, feel your embarrassment crest.

You break the kiss and sit there above him panting, forehead pressed to his forehead and eyes shut, determined to never look at him again. He slides his hand up your face, reverential in his movements. So gentle it burns.

"You wanna move to the bed? Yeah?" he asks.

You don't expect to be carried when you agree. You gasp as he lifts you up, hands steadfast around his neck and face pressed into his jaw. Peter laughs like an idiot as he walks, hand braced behind your head.

Your thighs are still wrapped around him as he drops you on the bed in his room, quick to realign your lips and kiss you silly, your spine pushed into the mattress beneath you.

He starts careful, grinding his hips down into your with the slightest pressure, a natural rhythm. You push his face from yours, knowing that his actions – this core-melting friction – will have you a mewling mess, and that his kisses will steal any awful sounds you make before you can suppress them.

He's not discouraged by your actions, instead choosing to track kisses down your neck, your throat. His face fits into the curve of your neck like it was made to, and his teeth find a spot they know well. You bury your fingers in his soft hair, lips pressed tightly together to half-smother a moan as his clothed cock presses into you again.

He finishes up a round, bruising hickey in a rush. "Don’t do that,” he says gently.

"What?" you ask, cupping his cheek.

He frowns at you, characteristic sweetness in his pout. "Lemme hear you," he murmurs pleadingly. "Please? Y'sound so pretty."

"Pete-"

"Please, baby. If you want to make noise, you should.”

You miss his kiss and his heat, agreeing without thinking, "Okay.”

He grins salaciously. You regret your haste and attempt to backtrack, find his lips silencing yours quickly. "Thank you," he says into your mouth, kisses firm, "gonna have you making the sweetest sounds, dove. Promise."

You tease the hem of his shirt and he pulls it off, you reach for your own and he's twice as quick, the two of you shirtless and grinning and breathing too fast.

Quickly you find yourselves shrugging out of your pants, then your underwear. He struggles with your bra. You giggle at his ineptitude and reach up to smooth the stressed crease between his eyebrows, furthering his frustration.

“Babe,” he huffs.

Once he manages it he ravishes you, mouth biting and cruel. He's played with your tits before, and he knows them well. Soon, your nipples are aching and kiss-bitten, shining with his spit.

He kisses down your ribs, your naval, takes a great big scraping mouthful of your soft tummy.

You pull him up to your mouth again before he can do what he wants to.

"Let me eat you out," he says.

You shake your head with a smug smile. He whines.

"Let me! Let me get you ready, baby, please."

"Just wanna feel you, Pete, please," you say bravely.

You do want him to eat you out, in a desperate, burning way that almost has you saying yes, but the idea of it is too embarrassing for now. You hope your admission will distract him, and it does, his hardness brushing up into you as his hips buck.

"Fuck," he says. "Fuck it. Fine, but consider this an IOU." He presses a kiss to your cheek.

You wiggle underneath him as he sits back, hand reaching between you. His thumb brushes from your wet entrance to your clit and you gasp, turning your face into the pillow beneath you.

Unhappy, Peter pinches your sensitive inner thigh. You protest, indignant. "Ow!"

"You don’t have to hide," he says, an awe in his voice as he spreads you open with his thumb.

He pushes into your clit. You let yourself gasp. His jovial smile is enough encouragement to do it again, and again, and again, frenzied by his tight circles and his teasing fingertips where they circle your entrance.

"Am I okay to keep going?" he asks, pausing.

You swallow. He looks so pretty like this: lips red from kissing, hair mussed and eyes bright. He's kneeling, an Adonis, carved muscle and hot-blooded. You follow the V of his hips and find your eyes glued to his cock where it’s head brushes the skin under his belly button, throbbing.

"I was gonna offer to get you ready, but…" you whisper, mostly joking, rewarded by his roaring laughter.

He pulls your hips towards him and your heart skips a beat, caught off guard, thinking he's going to fuck you, but it's just to bring you close enough to kiss, bodies wedged together as he slides his smiling mouth over yours.

He finds your hand and brings it down to his dick, hesitating a centimetre away. You take the leap, wrapping your fingers around his shaft as lightly as you can. He hisses, then grins.

"There, feel how hard you make me? All those pretty moans," he murmurs, looking down between your bodies where your hand explores his cock.

"All those lovely sounds you make, baby," he says. "Want you to make 'em for me again, yeah? Can you do that?"

He spits in his hand and replaces yours, giving his cock a few ruthless tugs. He's rock hard. Your eyes water and your insides are a mess, and you know without looking that your entrance is a dewy well.

"You gonna do that for me, baby?" he asks when you don't answer, searching for your enthusiasm, to see if you're okay.

You want him bad, rolling your hips, forcing his cock to brush up against your wet centre. "Yeah, Peter. Please."

He cradles your face in one hand, giving your cheek a quick squeeze before he rises off of your chest and takes his hips into your hands. It's pornographic, you think, the position you’re in, thighs spread wide over his thighs, chests rising in tandem. You like seeing Peter Parker on his knees for you, like knowing you're splayed open, waiting to take him.

"Ready?" he asks, rubbing the head of his cock in your slick.

You twitch at the contact. "Yes, baby," you utter, completely enamoured by his cock.

He starts slow. The first thrust inward more of a dip, spreading you open over his cock with every inch of care you'd expected from him. His breathing is laboured, amorous, as he works. You know he's taking his time for you, that he's desperate to push into you. You raise your hips from the bed in encouragement, centre alight.

He smiles. He pushes in. His thrusts are slow and each one widens. You realise how stupidly happy you are when he's halfway inside you, giggling and rolling your hips down.

"You want it, huh? Want it all?" he asks, voice similarly stained by joy.

"Yes," you blurt out.

"You're not very polite," he says, raising his eyebrows.

"Please," you say urgently. "Please, Peter, I can take it."

"I know you can.”

His hips snap forward. You half-sob, shocked at how good it feels, hands around his wrist as he pulls all the way out. You know what he's doing before he does it, snapping forward again; he's trying to get you to moan loudly, and his actions make it easy to oblige him.

"Fuck, baby, you're so fucking tight, feel fucking amazing," he says. "Fuck, how's that, you like that?"

You nod, panting, and he pushes your thighs away, towards your chest, shifting so he can fuck into you quicker. When he's fully sheathed inside you he hugs your thighs to his chest and rolls, the head of his cock brushing your walls emphatically.

"Tell me."

"I like it. I like it," your breath hiccups as he leans forward, cock driving into your sweet spot, "I like it."

You can't believe how quickly he's unravelled. He can see the smugness on your face, you think, because he leans down and kisses it away roughly, nose crushing your nose as he fills you up.

You whimper at his probing strokes. "You okay?" he asks quickly.

You barely manage to nod, so excited, over excited, hooking your arm around his neck so he can't ask you anymore silly questions.

The sound of your fucking echoes, a firm slap, damp panting, your awful moaning and his pleasure-lined exhales. He sounds close, though you're not sure, and you endeavour to draw his climax from him, squeezing your walls around his cock.

He groans and his hips stutter, burying his face in your cheek. You cover the back of his head with your hands.

"Can you go faster?" you ask.

You can feel his smile and his teeth as he kisses your cheek. "Yeah, I can go faster," he says innocently. "Just- tell me if I do something you don't like?"

"Uh-huh."

"Full words, dove."

"Yes, I'll tell you."

He needles his arms under your body and holds you tight as his hips snap, fucking you fast, fast enough that your whimpers and moans and expletives slip from you without really thinking, blurring into a mess of pleading.

"Please, Peter," you say, tears in your eyes.

"What, baby, what do you want?" he asks, words staggered between thrusts.

You don't want anything except for him to keep going.

The bed springs bounce beneath you, your headboard scrapes the wall, and you've never felt so safe and close to him as you do now, hips aching with every deep thrust.

Peter ruts into you, grinding his hips into the back of your thighs, your knees pushed into your chest. He dots a thousand tiny kisses wherever he can put them. Your legs wobble with the force of his strokes and your hips are numb, the only sensation that matters is this growing tightness in your core.

You can feel the mess growing between you, wetness pulled out of you with each drag of Peter's cock. You hug his chest close to your chest, hands at first clinging to him for dear life and then, cock drunk and dizzy, sliding over his skin lovingly.

"Love you," you whisper.

He laughs and pulls his face away from your sweaty skin to look you in the eyes. His eyes are bright, brown and dark, hedged in thick lashes. He brushes the tip of his nose into yours as he thrusts, like they’re kissing.

"That might be my favourite sound yet," he says softly.

You groan at the corniness of it all and he slows, driving in slower, looking so deep into your eyes you worry he can see your soul.

"I love you," he says. "Dovey, I love you so much. You're beautiful."

"You're beautiful, too," you tell him.

He kisses you sweetly, eyes scrunched shut, and you know he's close. You rock your hips against his and let him hear every ounce of pleasure you're feeling in your breathing. You take a shuddering inhale as he digs his cock into your walls and it send him over the edge, his own breathing sounding slightly tortured as he cums, a hot wetness blooming between you.

He thrusts one last time, cock bleeding pearlescence and mess inside you. You tighten your arms around him and plant your own sweet kisses all over his cheek and his neck, overcome by a swelling of affection.

You want to tell him how hot he is, how good it feels, but you can't make yourself say the words. You hope he can feel it in your palms as they stroke his back.

He pulls away. You let your tired thighs fall to either side of him, spread, and he takes them in his big palms, massaging the flesh there. You both catch your breath, though you realise he has no real plans of stopping as his fingers find your clit.

“Sorry, baby,” he murmurs quietly. “Didn’t mean to leave you hanging.”

You shake your head from one side to the other - you hadn’t cum, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t felt good, or hadn’t enjoyed yourself immeasurably, hadn’t felt loved beyond words.

“Gotta take care of my girl,” he says, more to himself than you, cock still inside you. You gasp as he rolls forward, chills moving from the deepest part of you all the way to your fingertips.

His thrusts are languid and his fingers quicker, voice warm and rough as he showers you in adoration.

You whimper and squirm under his touch as the coil tightens, thighs trembling.

“Pretty baby, so fucking good for me, need you to cum on my cock, yeah?” Peter whispers, thrusting forward again. Buried this deep, every movement is a shooting of ditzy pleasure around him.

His wet thumb is diligent as it circles. He leans down to kiss your thighs, your kneecap, resting his cheek against your leg as he pushes you over the edge. You gasp out his name without thinking, a warning, and feel his cock twitch inside you as you contract around him, pleasure tightening the muscles in your abdomen.

You sob without tears, hand grabbing his wrist to stop him from dragging your orgasm on any longer. He stops with his hand pressed flat to your cunt, breath hot on your skin as he laughs.

“There we go,” he says, pressing another kiss to your skin.

Your chest heaves. If he doesn’t hug you in the next ten seconds you’re probably going to burst into tears, urgently pulling at his arms. He gets the memo quickly and sits up on his haunches. He’s covered in your sticky mess and you don’t care as he pulls you into his arms, your face seeking refuge into the side of his neck. He steadies you with one hand behind the small of your back and the other buried in your hair, and you sit there like love drunk idiots breathing in the other's smell.

“You’re okay,” he says, and then quietly, “right?”

“I’m fine. I’m really fine. Just needed to be close to you,” you admit.

“Okay, okay. You’re okay” he says, nodding.

You take a deep breath, half laughing and half gasping. “Fuck,” you say.

“Fuck,” he agrees. “That reminds me - you have such a potty mouth when you’re getting fucked, did you know?”

“I’m an angel,” you say.

“I never said otherwise. An angel, makes the prettiest little sounds all wet and lovely,” he pauses to laugh when you pinch his sides, angry at his teasing now that you’re in the aftermath, “and she swears like a sailor.”

His kiss is bruising at your temple. “Fuck, I’m lucky. How’d I ever get so lucky?”

You clench your thighs around his, wondering the same thing.

𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

thanks for reading ❤️

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 4 months ago

Note

Gah, your Peter Parker leaves me sighing in the best way every time! If you feel like it, could you write a little blurb of him melting from fondness when reader gets bashful following him doing/saying something soft? It’s so sweet, seeing two people mutually melt around and because of each other. Even when it’s the smallest thing, it means so much more when it’s from one of YOUR important people.

ty for your request! <3 fem

Fuck, Peter Parker thinks, jogging up the steps to your apartment building, this is the life. It’s a hot day in New York City but there are cold drinks to be had and that electric fan in your bedroom is calling his name. There’s genuinely no better place to be than laying on your sheets in pyjamas you wash with that apple blossom laundry softener he loves, knowing you keep using it ‘cos you love it, and knowing you wash his pyjamas because you love him.

Spidering is going well, he saved a kid today who nearly got crushed by a ten tonner, so he’s feeling pretty good about himself, or at least feeling good about his decisions. He made Aunt May lunch and took it down to the hospital, he flirted gently with the older nurses, and now he’s gunning up the stairs to your apartment, every step a crinkle.

Your door is wide open (awful) but you have good reason —the floors and the countertops shine. The windows are open, and the room is fragrant with your oil diffuser. You’re on your knees by the TV wiping down the table with a damp rag in loose-fitting clothes, sleeves pushed up, brows puckered.

“Hey, baby,” he says.

“Peter, I’m not talking to you today.”

“Why’s that?”

“You know how many pairs of your socks I found when I was cleaning today?”

He grimaces. “Two?”

“Nine pairs of socks, Peter.”

He puts the flowers he’s brought you down on the coffee table and his back on the floor. He’d been hoping to do a grand unveiling of the bouquet to surprise you, but he feels terrible. “I don’t even know how that happens,” he mumbles dejectedly, kneeling down behind you, his arms threading in front of your tummy to give you a backwards squeeze. “They just disappear.”

“They don’t, evidently.”

“I’m really sorry.” He kisses your cheek. “I’m genuinely really sorry. That’s sloppy. I’m not a kid.”

“No, you’re not… I’m not that mad though, you don’t have to sound so serious.”

He holds the place just under your breastbone in his hands. “Oh, you’re not?” He tugs you to his front to stop you from moving prematurely and reaches blindly behind him for the flowers. You laugh as he tips back, taking you with him, the sound vibrating through you and into him. “That’s good. Don’t need these then, do we?”

He twirls the bouquet, pressing it carefully to your chest.

You immediately relax in his arms. He treasures that feeling, your weight leaning against him, your cheek listing down into his arm. You raise a hand, his arm trapped in the crook of your elbow as you examine the lilac petal of a sweetpea. “I love these ones.”

“I know.”

You take more time than anyone else would sifting through the flowers of the bouquet, breath the only evidence of your delight. You breathe out slowly whenever one of the flowers is particularly beautiful, and then you hug the bunch to your nose for a mild sniff.

“Thank you.”

Peter kisses your cheek. He savours the feeling of it, your skin under his lips, being that close to you, his hair on your forehead and your eyebrow tickling him as he hugs you just that little bit closer. “You’re welcome,” he murmurs, affection in every word, and a little drop of shyness too, “I was thinking of you, and they looked healthy for once, considering they’re off of the corner by Mandy’s.”

“They’re so pretty,” you mumble, turning into him as much as you can. He lets up his tight hold.

“Like you.”

You brush your forehead against his chin. Peter actually gets goosebumps, letting the flowers fall to the floor by your leg so he can hold you. “I feel bad for caring about the socks now,” you mumble.

He laughs with lips still closed and offers you a soft kiss.

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 4 months ago

Note

got me smiling like a fool

hellooo!! im not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this but i was wondering if you could write for tasm!peter where the reader just got her wisdom teeth removed and she’s all loopy on anesthetics and forgets peter is her boyfriend? i saw this video where this girl got her wisdom teeth pulled and forgot she was dating her boyfriend and fell in love with him all over again😭😭

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7sGQo5/

thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k

"Here she is," the nurse says gently, walking you out with his arm behind your back. "Alright, say hi to Peter."

"Hi, Peter," you mumble, eyes on the floor.

Peter grins at you, worry warm at the back of his throat. "Hey. Is that everything?" he asks, nodding at the nurses paper bag of aftercare.

"Everything you'll need." The nurse helps Peter take over, hoisting your arm over his shoulders before stepping away. "Alright, feel better, okay? And don't hesitate to call if something comes up. We're here to look after you."

You seem appreciative in your fog, but it's hard to tell. Peter curls his arm around your hip and gives it a soft rub as he leads you to the stairs. Whoever devised the floor plan here had murder on their mind —the second floor is completely inaccessible. Luckily, Peter has a lot of strength at his disposal.

You can feel it. "Woh, you're strong," you murmur.

"You know that already." His grip on you tightens, pretty much carrying you down the tight staircase.

"Do I?" you ask. You make a sound like you're hurting, a squeak.

"I'd hope so." At the end of the staircase, he sits you down, worried you're not feeling well. "You okay? I can princess carry you if you need me to."

You look at him with wide eyes. He turns to check there's no one standing behind him, but you're really looking at him. "What?" he asks, touching your knee, imploring. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"You're Peter?" you ask.

Ah, the amnesiac effect of anaesthetic. His touch turns comforting, stroking your thigh with as much care as he can drive into his palm alone. "That's me. Hey, if you're forgetting me, does that mean you're not mad at me for last Friday anymore? 'Cos I know you said you forgive me but I can tell it still pisses you off–"

Your eyes fall to his hand. "Why would I be mad at you?" you ask.

"I finished the milk and put the carton back in the fridge, even though I promised I'd stop doing it. You see the jug and think there's milk left. We were gonna have macaroni and cheese..." He nudges your fingers with his. "Are you okay? You don't look like yourself."

"What do I usually look like?"

"Not so, you know. Daunted."

"You're really handsome," you whisper, refusing to meet his eye.

"Oh, you think so?"

You nod like your head is too heavy. You're embarrassed, you sweetheart, oh my god Peter could cry into your lap.

"Let's get you to the car, baby."

"Where are we going?" The gauze gives you the world's most adorable lisp, and it turns your gasp into a hum as Peter stands you up.

"Home."

"Together?"

"Yeah, we live together. It's a nice place, and you're a great decorator, you know? It's cozy."

"Thank you," you say shyly.

You're not not shy with him, but it's been a long time since you got so quiet over a practically innocuous comment. He wants to see how you'll react to real compliments, over the top stuff that he one hundred percent means. It's a little mean, but when will you ever be like this again?

He helps you out past the desk and onto the street to your car where it's parked a half a block down. "Don't worry about all this, okay? I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. There's an ice pack and a brand new comforter with your name on it waiting at home." Peter smiles at your starry eyes as they flash to his, amazed at his simple plans. "How does that sound, beautiful? Is there anything you want before we head home? Anything that would make you feel better?"

"You're gonna take care of me?" you ask breathlessly.

"That's my job. That's my number one boyfriend duty."

"You're my boyfriend?"

"I am!" he says happily, laughing as he speaks. "For a while. I've been trying to take things further but you're always really shy about getting married–"

"You want to get married? To me?"

Peter presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're the only person I'd ever want to get married to. We already picked the flowers–"

"We did?"

He laughs again, all your questions. He loves regular you but loopy you is especially endearing. "Last time I got super drunk, yeah. You never let me forget it."

"So you love me?" you ask, stopping short.

"I love you so much," he says immediately, hugging you into his side. He dots another kiss against the top of your head. "You should remember that even if you don't remember me."

"I love you," you say quietly.

Peter doesn't know if that's your memory returning, or if you've fallen in love with him in the last fifteen minutes. He could easily fall in love with you that quickly, and yet he's still amazed at your confession.

"That's good. That's great. Thank you, sweetheart," he says, desperate to hold your face in his hands but weary of causing you future pain. "There's your car," —he points, lowering his head to yours to make sure you can see it, hand now protectively held between your shoulder blades— "let's go home now. Yeah?"

You start walking again at his requests. He can pretty much see the steam rising off of your face, giddy with happiness at these revelations. You're together, you're in love, and you think he's handsome. He wonders what you'll have to say about his biceps in this state of delirium; you go crazy for his arms sober.

Which reminds him.

"I totally have another secret to tell you," he says, unlocking the car as you approach and helping you into the passenger seat.

"What is it?" you ask.

Peter closes you in and skirts around the door, climbing into the driver's seat. He's glad that New York is as ridiculously loud as ever, because not even the closed doors or your sodden gauze can smother the way you shriek.

"My boyfriend is Spider-Man?!"

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 4 months ago

Text

NSFW Alphabet with Peter Parker

This post contains sexual content and is for those 18+ (MINORS DNI)

masterlist

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Peter believes aftercare is vital (and he’s right).

It always starts with him wiping you down with a warm washcloth or both of you cleaning yourselves off in the shower and him just checking in on you to make sure you’re comfortable and satisfied.

And always ends with the two of you snuggled in bed, exchanging praises to each other, sharing a bottle of water and kisses, all while a show or movie playing on the tv before you both start dozing off.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself? His hands.

Peter is without a doubt a handsy person, he’s constantly touching you in both a sexual and nonsexual way, he just always has his hands on you.

There’s just so much he can do with his hands, from getting you off with his fingers to choking you to grabbing and slapping your ass to pulling you closer by your hips to resting them dangerously high on your thigh as well as using them to keep your legs spread when he goes down on you. He also loves holding your hand (in general and whenever he’s pounding into you).

He’s just a big fan of his hands and he knows you are too.

On you now? Hips and thighs.

As said previously, he always has his hands on you, and to him, your hips are almost their natural resting place. He’s just always holding you by the hips, pulling you in close, helping you rock against his own while you ride him.

As for your thighs? He knows you get flustered when puts his hand on there but it’s when you let him eat you out and you squeeze your thighs around his head that gets him every time (it’s how he was to go out; just suffocated by your thighs).

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Absolutely loves cumming inside you, he wants to be as close to you as possible and what’s more intimate than finishing inside your partner? He also definitely has a breeding kink but you didn’t hear that from me.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Peter wants to make a sex tape and/or take photographs of you during sex. He thinks it would be so hot, he wants you to see what he sees + the idea of watching it back with you and the both of you getting off to it…the thought alone might turn his brain to mush.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He probably has four to five bodies (not including you), so he knows does what he’s doing.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Once again, Peter likes having you close, so missionary and the altered version of it where your legs are situated on his shoulders as well as cowgirl because he loves when you’re on top.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

It truly depends on the mood, things can and have been super sweet and giggly. If there is something humorous that does happen when it's more of a serious moment both of you will just laugh it off, truly no big deal.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s well groomed but not bald, he keeps it trimmed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Peter is a romantic. He loves you so much and it’s incredibly important to him that you know that. But if you need a reminder, he has no problem giving you one.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Peter is a fan of mutual masturbation. He’ll never get over the sight of you sitting across from him, legs spread, a vibrator pressed against your clit while his name falls from your lips. He loves getting off on you getting off.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise kink, one of Peter’s main love languages aside from physical touch, is words of affirmation. He likes giving and receiving praises, it’s important to him that you know how beautiful you look, how much he loves you, and how good you feel. It’s also safe to say the same goes for him, the first time you called him a good boy he could have sworn he almost came right then and there.

Breeding kink, Peter loves loves loves cumming inside you. The idea of getting you pregnant makes his head spin, plus the risk factor of it all is a major turn-on for him.

Marking kink, this one also goes both ways. Peter loves leaving hickeys on you as well as getting them from you. He loves whenever you leave your lipstick stain on him (whether it’s his face, neck, chest, and below the belt), or when you claw at his back and the scratches are still very visible the next day despite his superhuman healing. You also have an anklet with his initial on it. I can’t decide if it would be a gift from him or if it’s something that you picked up knowing he’d like it, either way, he finds it very sexy having it dangle by his head whenever your legs are resting on his shoulders.

Peter is a dom leaning-switch. When he is being dominant, he prefers to be called sir over daddy that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it if you do. When he’s being submissive his mommy kink comes to the forefront, he loves being when you’re in control.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Preferably the bedroom.

But I strongly believe that 1) he’s fucked you in the lab on several occasions and really likes the risk of getting caught, and 2) he made it his personal goal to fuck you in every room in your apartment when you first moved in together.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

The simple answer is you, you make him super happy and super horny.

I do think some things that add to / intensify his feelings like when you wear a certain perfume or sundresses, or call him a pretty boy, or kiss his jaw and neck, or when you sit on his lap and keep shifting to tease him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Peter is possessive, not in a controlling way, he just doesn’t want to share. So bringing someone else into the bedroom is a no-go.

He also won’t be into anything involving piss or scat.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Peter is a generous lover, he likes giving more than receiving, that however does not mean he doesn’t like it when you go down on him. He loves a good blowjob but eating pussy is a passion of his, a passion that he is incredibly good at, definitely knows what he’s doing.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on how you’re feeling.

He can be both slow and sensual and faster and rough. But his goal is always to satisfy you so he’ll always listen to what you want. Do you want him to speed up? Consider it done. Want him to go harder? No problem.

I think his preferred pace is to be slow and rough though.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Peter likes quickies and will jump at any opportunity to have fun with you, but he likes taking his time even more.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

Peter is a man of science, experimenting is practically his middle name. So yes he’s definitely down to experiment with you, he’s willing to try most things but does have boundaries set because while he’ll never yuck anyone else’s yum, there are things that have never appealed to him and he isn’t willing to try.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

He can last a very long time. There are times when you’ve gone quite a few rounds and your completely fucked out because unlike him you aren’t superhuman and don’t recuperate as quickly as he does. But at other times his heightened sense makes it a lot easier for him to become overstimulated so that kind of evens everything out.

T = Toys (do they own toys? Do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He knows toys are his best friend but Peter didn’t own sex toys before you guys got together, but since meeting you he has purchased a wireless remote control vibrator that he uses on you as well as fuzzy handcuffs. They’re mainly used on you but have used your magic wand and handcuffed him before (an experience that he more than enjoyed).

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Peter is the biggest tease!!!

He has a filthy mouth and has no issue whispering something dirty in your ear and working you up then going in for a kiss but never letting your lips touch.

It’s no secret he likes having his hands on you, especially on your thighs, but when you wear a dress or skirt he’ll always take the opportunity to rest his hand on your thigh and slowly move it up and rub you through your panties.

He’s used the wireless remote control vibrator on you in public before, seeing you squirm and try to hold your composure while out was a major turn-on for him.

That being said, he loves when the roles are reversed. From all the times you’ll move past him, ass brushing against his front, to slowly undressing in front of him and revealing a matching set in his favorite color just to tell him he can’t touch you, to dirty texts and nudes sent to his photo knowing he’s busy, to sitting on his lap and wiggling around to get him hard (but there are times where he gets you back by bouncing his knee). It's safe to say you do your fair share of, if not more, teasing too.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

At first, he wasn’t very loud because he was so used to trying to keep it down since he lived with others and wanted to avoid having any kind of noise complaints. All of that, however, went right out the window when you started dating and you made it very clear you wanted to hear him, the sounds he made only added to the experience (and your wetness). He’s a lot more vocal now knowing that groans, moans, whimpers, and whines from him are essentially music to your ears.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Peter always joked that you’re his sexy nurse, it became his little not so secret-secret fantasy he had in his head.

A fantasy that you made a reality late one night when you showed off your little costume, complete with red thigh-high stockings, and a lacy red bra poking out at the top.

He remembers how his dick twitched upon seeing you, and how you walked over to him place a hand on his chest asking where it hurt, how you trailed your hand down to his bulge and palmed him through his underwear, asking if this is where it hurts before slipping your hand under the waistband and stroking his cock.

He'll never forget when you told him you know exactly how to make him feel better right before reaching over to the nightstand and taking on your magic wand, and how you pressed the vibrating head to his tip, only removing it and stroking him instead when he bucked his hips. Or how you stopped just as after he started begging you to let him cum, and stripped off your outfit leaving yourself in just the lacy red set that consisted of crotchless panties and your stockings, and asked him if he'd be a good boy and let mommy ride him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Peter’s above average length around seven to eight inches but he’s incredibly thick. Without a doubt stretches you out real nice and hits all the right spots.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I’d say it’s pretty high. Sex is a frequent occurrence, not every day but multiple times a week.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

It depends on who was on top. You and Peter take aftercare very seriously so it is likely that whoever was on top will stay awake while cuddling, kissing, and overall making the other person feel loved and comfortable, and wait for them to inevitably fall asleep before also falling asleep.

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 4 months ago

Text

HANDS

Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader

Summary - Peter is completely oblivious to just how horny you get while watching him work.

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

Without a doubt, Peter was the smartest person you had ever met. Yet, somehow, he managed to simultaneously be the stupidest.

Prepping for college already kept both of you beyond busy, and the fact that all of his free time was spent clad in spandex swinging around New York didn’t leave the two of you with much time to spend together. Despite this, you two worked hard to make time for each other, with most of your hang-outs consisted of sitting in his room doing totally separate tasks, happy to just be in each other's presence.

Usually this didn’t bother you. Sure, a part of you missed doing all the normal couple things—like cute little dates or surprise movie nights, but the two of you were just too busy. So you savored the time spent in his company, enjoying stolen glances at one another and silly off-hand comments as the two of you tried to focus on your own work.

But tonight was different.

You had already finished all the work you needed to get done for the week and got a head start on next week's tasks, leaving you absolutely bored out of your mind. At first you managed to distract yourself, trying not to disturb Peter’s focus as he attempted to repair his web-shooters. You flipped through his comics, toyed with his camera, and even decided to fold the laundry he had carelessly left in the basket. After practically cleaning his room top-to-bottom, you were left sprawled out on his mattress, left with nothing else to do except sit around and watch him work.

It was interesting to watch Peter tinker with things, especially when they were related to his secret identity, and so you were content to watch him. For a while, at least. As you watched him you slowly noticed your boredom turning into something…else.

Peter’s hands were one of your favorite things about him—something he teased you relentlessly for—and they were on full display right now. You watched as his slender fingers moved along the web-shooters, muttering something under his breath about how he couldn’t figure out what he was doing wrong. If you were less distracted you might have offered to help him, just to give yourself something to do, but you were too lost in your own dirty thoughts to acknowledge his words.

He palmed at his desk, blindly reaching for a screwdriver. Your eyes drifted from his fingers to the top of his hand, watching as his blue veins protruded as he gripped the tool. A low groan escaped his lips, the sound only aiding in the fantasies beginning to swirl in your head, your jaw falling open just a bit. He was still struggling to fix whatever was wrong with them (you had long forgotten what the problem was at this point) and you barely noticed as he let the web-shooter fall roughly against his desk, leaning back in the chair and tangling his fingers in his hair.

Normally you would notice that he was getting frustrated, but you didn’t. You were absolutely gone at this point, thinking of how it felt to have his fingers tangled in your hair. The way it felt when he was feeling particularly cruel—just barely letting his fingertips trace against your skin, the sensation always leaving you desperate for more. He knew what it did to you, those featherlight touches as he moved along your hips, venturing dangerously close to your inner thigh. He liked the noises you’d make, the way you’d start to whimper as he pressed soft kisses to your neck, occasionally grazing his teeth against your flesh.

It was cruel enough that Peter loved to tease you so much, but it was even crueler that he was capable of doing it without even trying.

Here he was doing absolutely nothing and yet you could practically feel his skin against yours; the warmth of his palms against your waist or the feel of his nails digging into the thick flesh of your thighs. If your fantasies were real then you would’ve already been begging by now, practically on the verge of tears asking him to put his fingers inside of you.

The thought was enough to make you snap yourself out of your daydream, squeezing your legs together as you realized just how desperate you actually were for him. He was still leaning back in his chair, completely and totally unaware that his totally innocent actions had left you absolutely soaked. He didn’t pay any mind when you stood up from his bed, eyes still glued to his web-shooters as he racked his brain for better ways to fix them. It wasn’t until you were standing directly in front of him that he finally glanced up at you.

“You ok?” Concern was the first thing to flash across his features, always worried about you. But as you crawled into his lap, effectively straddling him in the chair, his concern faded to confusion. “Uh-whatcha doin?”

You rolled your eyes, realizing just how clueless your precious boyfriend was. “What do you think I’m doing?”

“Trying to get me to take a break?” Pete guessed, smiling when you nodded in response. “I guess I can spare a few minutes,” he teased, hands finally moving to rest on your hips, “wanna go get something to eat?”

You wondered how it was possible for someone to be so dumb, especially when said person had literal super-senses. In an effort to make your intentions even more clear, you leaned into his body and lightly rolled your hips against his, the tiny bit of friction eliciting a low noise from your lips.

That little moan seemed to be enough to at least kick his Spidey-senses into gear, his gaze darkening as he finally smelled the arousal building between your legs. You dragged your hips against his again, feeling the now growing bulge in his jeans. About time, you thought to yourself.

Peter didn’t waste any time upon realizing what you were actually after. He quickly lifted you as he stood from the chair, moving so he could lay you back down on his bed. “Fuck, why go out-” he sunk to his knees, caging his head between your legs, his fingers already toying with the waistband of your pajama shorts, “when I’ve got something to eat right here.”

You couldn’t hold in your laugh at the comment, though once he got your shorts off that laughter quickly faded into different sounds.

Oblivious as he may be, Peter Parker knows how to make a girl moan.

a/n - i had posted this on my other blog, but tumblr has decided to show my posts to absolutely no one and refuses to answer my emails asking for support so... new blog i guess? if you wanna read previous imagines for Peter that I've written check out spidey-stark, but I'll be posting on here from now on!

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ickleronniekinsemotionalrange · 4 months ago

Text

honest

tasm!peter parker x f!reader

Summary: being best friends and maybe in love with Peter Parker is nice, until certain spider changes everything

Word couny: 10k

Warnings: mentions of wounds, kissing, hickeys, and I think that's all

A/N: it's based on Honest by The Neighbourhood, It's nice to have a friend, King of my heart and Sweet nothing by Taylor Swift.

Also, thanks to @myriadmoons for helping me write this <33

Patience, test my patience

If I made it too hard for you, maybe

“What happened?” You ask Peter, approaching him in the hallway. Immediately noticing the bruise on his face, even though he tried to hide it with the hoodie.

“I fell” He tells you, walking to your first class, which, to his displeasure, you had together.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” You ask him as he works as your shield among all the students going to their classes.

“Sometimes” He laughs, trying to change the subject as you both sit in your place.

“Pete, I’m serious. Is it Flash again? I wouldn’t care to threaten him again”

“That only worked because he has a crush on you” He smiles, resting his head on his arms while looking at you.

“Yeah, but it worked, so I take it as a win” He laughs softly, trying to ignore the concerned look you were giving him. “What happened?”

“I fell” He knows by the look in your eyes that you don’t believe him, but he ignores it, just like he ignores your sad expression as you turn your head to the teacher.

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

“Are you okay?” You ask him, opening your bedroom door so he can get inside. You notice the new bruises, of course you do, you always notice.

But you also notice the look in his eyes, telling you to not say anything about it, telling you to just hold him now.

So you do, you hug him. You let him hug you so tight that you’re afraid he might break you.

“I’m better now” He mutters, his voice muffled by your hair.

“I’m glad”

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

You should have changed it

Say it, you should say it

“You don’t even have to tell me” You had told Peter, sitting on the stairs of your porch. “I mean, it’s obvious that I’m not buying the ‘I fell’ bullshit. So just let me help you”

“It’s okay, someone’s- I’m already getting help” And it’s not you. He had told you, getting up and walking away after waving goodbye.

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

“You’re ignoring me” You tell Peter, sitting on his bed with your homework on your lap.

“I’m literally doing homework right now” He says, slightly offended.

“Not right now, I mean lately” He hesitates before talking.

“I’ve been busy, I’m sorry” He finally looks up from his homework, looking at you.

“It’s okay, you know I don’t care about that, just, don’t be a stranger”

“I won’t” He assures you. “Talking about that, I didn’t tell you but I’m friends with Gwen” Then he puts his homework away, because, of course, when it’s about her he has to focus completely. “We started talking the other day and she’s really nice… "

So you just sit there, listening to him, because that’s the most he’s talked to you in days. And because you’re a good friend who’ll listen to anything even though it hurts. Because you don’t want to lose him.

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

Waiting, always waiting

You wait. Even though you shouldn’t. You wait for him, for a text, for a call, for a response, anything. You wait for him to fulfil his promise, that he’d be here to do the work with you. The most important work of the year.

You wait for him to answer all your texts, all your calls. You keep waiting as you do the work, as you start it, as you look up information, as you finish it, as you revise it.

You stop waiting for him to start waiting for an excuse when he opens the door. With new cuts and bruises that had already been taken care of.

“Sorry for being late, I lost track of time” He puts his backpack in the usual place and sits on your bed, behind you. “We can start now”

You turn around in the chair, not waiting anymore since you already got your excuse. You watch the hour on your phone before talking.

“At 11pm?” You ask him, looking at his new bruises, sighing and wishing he told you more about it.

“I know, I’m sorry, it’s just…” He doesn’t continue, because he doesn’t have anything to say.

“I already did it” You inform him, getting up and laying on your bed as you turn on the TV.

“What? But, we were supposed to do it together” He says, offended as he gets up, to discover that, in fact, you already did it.

“It’s due tomorrow” You don’t look at him, instead, you look at the news, talking about the decrease of crime.

“You could’ve waited for me” You look at him now, foolishly hurt by his words. Because that’s all you’ve done lately. Wait for him. “I know I didn’t answer.” ‘I’m sorry’ He doesn’t add. “But it’s like half of the grade” ‘It’s not fair that you had to do it alone’ He forgets to add, again.

“Fuck you Peter” You tell him, eyes again on the TV, refusing to look at him and at his audacity.

“Look, I know that you’re mad, but I was with Gwen, and I lost track of time, and…” He stops talking, either because he realises he mentioned Gwen or because he realises that you don’t care.

“See you tomorrow” You don’t look at him when he mutters a soft ‘good night’. You do look at him when he turns around, picks his backpack and leaves, closing the door behind him.

You don’t go to sleep immediately, even though you should. You add yours and Peter’s names to the work before putting it on your backpack. Then you continue watching the news. Weirdly entertained by the people talking about Spiderman as he swings between buildings.

You watch his back, just as you watched Peter’s. A back that you know too much, a back that you've scratched, a back that you watched leave earlier. And then it all makes sense, well, you still don’t know why he’s ignoring you. But you know the reason behind the bruises, the cuts, the tiredness in his eyes.

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

I wish you could be honest

I wish you could be honest with me

You watch as the teacher corrects the works. Peter watches you. You both watch the teacher walking to your desks. The teacher watches both of you as he talks.

“It’s really good, I still have to correct some things but it’s the better one of the class” He says before walking away, with your work still in his hands.

“You added my name?” Peter asks you, looking at you as you watch the clock, waiting for the class to be over.

“Yes” You answer, now looking at him.

“I didn’t deserve it” He says ‘I didn’t do anything and then made you feel bad about it’ He doesn’t say.

“I know” You keep looking at him, ignoring the shred of hurt in his eyes, and focusing on the exhaustion in them. “Peter, are you honest with me?”

He doesn’t expect the question, but he doesn’t doubt when answering “Of course”

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

Why'd you stick around?

Why'd you stay with me?

Why'd you fake it?

You always did this. It was your tradition. But things have changed lately, so you shouldn't be surprised when he doesn't show up.

You look at the news, waiting to see someone informing you about what Spiderman's doing right now, maybe saving the city again. But nothing. He seems to be sleeping, or ignoring his best friend.

So you give up, put your phone in silence and walk in the cinema. Doing your monthly tradition alone, for the first time.

When you walk out you don't expect to see him there. Looking weirdly anxious. But you don't acknowledge him, you just continue walking.

"I'm sorry" He says as he follows you, standing in front of you when he realises you're not going to stop. You don’t say anything, you just look at him, not even bothering to hide the fact that you’re hurt. Hurt by him, by his actions, by his secrets. “I’m really sorry, I was really occupied and I couldn’t make it and…”

“I can’t keep doing this” You try to walk around him to the door so you can walk to your house. But he stands in front of you again.

“I know, and I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, I promise” And you want to believe him, you really want to, but you can't let yourself get hurt again.

“You could’ve told me” Just like you can tell me that you’re Spiderman. But you don’t say that, because you want him to trust you, although you don’t know why he doesn’t.

“I- my phone-” He stops, because lying isn’t going to get him anywhere. “I forgot”

You smile, even though all you want to do is cry. He forgot his best friend. And why? Before you can ask him, the answer appears behind you.

“Where were you? Oh, hi Y/n” You turn around, to see Gwen smiling at you. You return her the smile and a wave before turning back to Peter.

“Fuck off Peter, and make sure you don’t forget to talk to her” You mutter as you finally walk around him, reaching the door and start the journey to your house.

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

As you walk on the pavement, you notice someone approaching you. You wave at him when you notice who he is. Harry, Peter’s friend. He introduced you two a while ago, and to his surprise, you actually got along.

“Hi” He greets you.

“Hi, I didn’t know you were in town?” You ask him.

“Yeah, I arrived a few days ago. Actually, I was going to Peter’s house, do you want to come?” He asks you, oblivious to the whole situation.

“I was just going to my house, but it was nice to see you again” You tell him, resuming the walk to your house when he starts talking next to you. “You don’t have to.” He cuts you off before you can finish.

“Did something happen? The last time I was here Peter told me that he wouldn’t let you walk home alone, because it’s dangerous, you know?” You sigh, because it’s true, he never did that, until today.

“It’s complicated I guess, but you don’t really have to walk me home, it’s just a ten minutes walk from here”

“It’s okay, I’d like to catch up with you” You give up trying to get him to actually go where he was supposed to and start talking about both of your lifes. “Does Flash still have a crush on you? I don’t think Peter got over the fact that he asked you out”

You laugh, remembering that day. When you’d suggested that maybe he was just jealous, he said that it was because he wanted his best friend to date someone better than Flash.

“He still does, but he hasn’t tried to ask me out again” You stand in front of your porch, turning around to face him. . “Thanks for walking me home, Harry” You smile at him, really thankful that you hadn’t spent the whole walk thinking about Peter.

“It’s okay, I always like talking to you. And about the Peter thing, I’m sure you’ll work it out”

You let out a soft ‘I know’ before saying goodbye to him and walking in your house.

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

Harry doesn’t bring up the matter when he shows up at Peter’s door. Neither when they both start playing video games. Or when Peter starts talking about Gwen. He talks about it when he says that he went to the mall with Gwen.

“That’s why Y/n was going home alone?” He notices how Peter tenses up immediately.

“What?” Peter asks, like he has no idea what he’s talking about.

“I saw her, and I walked her home, she seemed upset” Peter doesn’t say anything, feeling too bad, knowing that he’s the reason why. “I even asked her if Flash still had a crush on her, maybe the next time I shouldn’t be that discreet”

“What?” Peter turns around, the video game long forgotten as the boys talk.

“Maybe I should ask her on a date while I’m here, the worst she can say is no” Harry keeps talking, and maybe he’s being for real, maybe he just wants Peter to react. But all Peter knows is that he’s getting mad, and he doesn’t know why.

“You shouldn’t” He says dryly.

“Why? Is she seeing someone?” Harry asks, getting up to pick up his things.

“No” Peter answers, his jaw tightened as he watches his friend move around the room.

“Then? What’s the problem?” Harry stops for a second, looking at him.

“I don’t want you to date her” Then he moves again, giving Peter his back as he closes his backpack, hiding his smile.

“I thought you were with Gwen?” Peter frowns at that.

“What? No, it’s all platonic” He swears.

“She must be a good friend then. You left Y/n to go with her” Harry can see Peter's face go through all emotions before talking back.

“It’s not like that” He frowns, again, like it's the most obvious thing.

“I don’t know the whole story Peter, but I do know that she was walking home alone –something that you swore you’d never do– and she seemed hurt” After that Harry leaves. Leaving a confused Peter considering all the choices he's made, while looking at the pictures you two have together.

Pictures he took of you when you gave him his new camera for his birthday. Pictures Aunt May insisted on taking one of the first times you went to the cinema together. Pictures you took of him when he was distracted. Pictures he took of you while you were sleeping, because he thought you looked cute, even though you got embarrassed after. Pictures he took of you while falling(and on the floor), after you had assured him that you knew how to skate.

He remembers that after the last one, you almost made him fall again, he also remembers that your actual words were 'Pete what the fuck??, why didn't you help me?' Like he could’ve done anything to help you

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

I hope you find a way

To be yourself someday

You were doing all you could to avoid Peter. You didn’t know if he was trying to talk to you. But you didn’t care. Maybe he wasn’t trying to find you. It's not like it's something new. But you couldn't known

You couldn't avoid each other in the next class, since you guys sat together(for the next two hours).

“Do you like Harry?” He asks you, neither of you had anything to do, while the others finished their homework, you do all you can to not look at him.

“What?” You fail, meeting his gaze as you talk.

“I think he likes you” He adds.

“Okay” You say, dryly.

“Do you like him?” You can’t believe him, it’s the same shit he did with Flash.

“Just leave me alone” You try to ignore his intense gaze.

“I don’t think you should date him” You stop ignoring his eyes now, looking at him and trying to find where his audacity comes from.

“That’s not your problem” You remind him.

He looks at you, because it’s really not. Even if you were still best friends, it wouldn’t be. But then you’d say something like ‘are you jealous?’.

“I know, I know, but he’s-” You cut him off, tired of his shit.

“I don’t care, Peter, why would I?. If I like him or if I don’t, it’s not your problem, so just leave me alone”

He seems hurt, he really does. But you stop looking at him, because maybe if you don’t see him, you won’t notice. And maybe if he doesn’t look at you, he won’t notice your hurt. Or maybe he does and he just doesn't care.

You stay like that the rest of the hour, fighting the urge to not turn your head to him, even when you can notice him looking at you. You fight the urge to not ask him for explanations, to ask him to come back to you.

As soon as the teacher says that you have a free hour, you walk out of the class as soon as you can.

You walk to the bleachers, waiting for the hour to be over so you can just go home. You’re looking at the sky when Peter approaches you, your immediate response is to get up, to try and run away.

“Please- just…” He stays there, standing in a row in front of you. You sit down again, looking at him.

He doesn’t say anything. He just looks at you, feeling like he hasn't seen you in forever. He doesn’t talk, you don’t talk. Until you get impatient and try to get up before he talks.

"You don't call me Pete anymore, you know?. You just say Peter, and half of the time is to insult me" You don't know how to react, you don't know what to do with the hurt in his voice. So you just talk, before thinking.

“Are you Spiderman?” You see him trying to say something, trying to lie. But you both know it wouldn’t work. So he doesn’t say anything. He looks at you, frowning.

You laugh.

“You didn’t even try to deny it” You look at him, questioning him, questioning his friendship with you, his friendship with Gwen.

“How long have you known?” He frowns, looking sad.

“Long enough for me to say that you’re not honest” You fight the urge to walk away.

He doesn’t say anything. You know that he’s mad.

You don’t say anything. He knows that you’re mad.

“You shouldn’t know” He finally speaks, looking at you, clenching his jaw.

“I know” Because you do. You know that he’s been trying so hard to hide it from you that you almost lose your friendship, or maybe you already lost it.

“It’s dangerous” He adds

“That’s all you’re gonna say?” You ask him. You both know what you want to hear. I’m sorry for not telling you. I’m sorry for ignoring you. I’m sorry for getting you worried. I’m sorry for almost ruining our friendship.

“What else am I supposed to say?” He doesn’t meet your eyes. Not when you get up. Not when you throw the sweatshirt he’d lent you at him. Not when he barely catches it before it touches the floor. Not when you start to walk away.

“Way to go Parker” You mumble, walking down the stairs.

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

Hesitation, is killing me too

But I couldn't save it

I couldn't save it

"I didn't want her to get involved, it's dangerous, and I-" Peter is sitting in Gween’s bed, his Spiderman suit under his clothes, ready for the night guard. A week after his last conversation with you.

"So you're just going to lose your friendship because of that?” Gween asks, her eyes going back and forth between Peter and her homework.

“I don’t want to lose her. I thought that if I wasn’t around her that much she wouldn't discover it” He admits, his eyes looking down at the mask in his hands.

“Do you think she’s stupid?” Gwen asks, knowing for a fact, that you aren’t stupid.

“That’s the thing. She’s too smart, and she found out even when I ignored her” He sighs, laying in the bed. “I don’t know what to do now. I can’t just go to her and apologise, can I?”

“You could try, but it better be the apologise of the century” She tells him, focused again on the papers before her.

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

Peter keeps thinking about that as he climbs out Gwen's window. While he's swinging between buildings. As he fights for his life.

But, curiously, he doesn't think about it when he goes to your house, when he knocks on the window. He just does it, like you're a magnet who's attracting him, leaving him no choice but to get close to you. He does it as a reflex action. Like he knows that you'll always be there for him.

And sadly, you will.

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

Is this the end of all the endings?

Peter used to go to your house when he couldn’t sleep, he just knocked on the window, waiting for you to get up and let him in. But you didn’t expect him to do it right now. Especially no in his Spiderman suit.

“What the fuck happened to you?” You ask him, not even bothering to close the window. Knowing that he’d close it for you. Like always.

He sits on your desk chair as you look for your first aid kit, the one that you’d bought when Peter started to skate.

"I'm hurt" He talks, slowly moving the chair close to the bed, where you're waiting with all the supplies.

"Yeah no shit" You roll your eyes, carefully cleaning his wounds.

"I'm sorry" He suddenly says, after watching you in silence, admiring you as you healed him.

You admire him too, his hands as he holds tight to the chair, his chest as he breathes in, as he breathes out. His face as you clean the blood out of it. The look in his eyes as you keep your hands on his face longer than necessary.

"What are you doing here?" Your eyes go from his wounded chest to his eyes.

"I missed you" You stop for a bit when he says that, and you're sure he notices, but you quickly bandage the wound and get up to get him some clothes.

"It's not fair, it's not fucking fair that after everything you're just here. Telling me that you missed me. It's not fair Peter" You swear you can see something change in his eyes as he hears the name. "And I'm here, acting like nothing happened, like it's the fucking same, like my best fri-" You don't finish the word. "Like you aren't Spiderman. It's not fucking fair"

You finally tell him, looking through your closet, like the fact that you're far from him will help you ignore the attraction you're feeling.

And then it hits you, you've felt like this for a while. You've been attracted to him for a while. And with everything that had happened, you couldn't stop and think about it.

Because maybe the fact that you lost your best friend hurts more than the fact that you're in love with him. Just maybe.

"I know" He says as he gets up, walking to the bathroom to put on the clothes that you just gave him. He leaves a confused you cleaning your room, feeling your heart shrink a bit when you see all of the tissues covered in blood.

After going to the kitchen to throw everything that you had used, you come back to Peter sitting in your bed. Looking at his hands, only looking away when you sit next to him.

“I’m sorry” He admits, almost in a whisper.

“Stop saying that you’re sorry” You ask him.

“But I really am” He whispers, again

“You should’ve thought of it before you… before everything” You look down, and then at him.

“I know, but it’s not my fault that I’m Spiderman and I’m really sorry” You look away, slightly hurt by the fact that he thinks you would blame him for that.

“What are you even sorry for?”

“I’m sorry for lying to you, for ignoring you, for making you feel bad, for ruining our friendship” He says the last words like they hurt. “I’m sorry for everything, honestly. For talking the way I did about the Harry thing. For not apologising sooner. For ignoring you because of Gwen, who’s just my friend, by the way. I’m sorry” You don’t look at him, because if you do, you know you’ll do something stupid, like hugging him, or telling him that everything’s fine.

“I think you should go, maybe May is waiting for you” You get up, feeling his gaze on you as you continue to pack your suitcase.

“Why are you saying that after I apologised?” You let out a small laugh, looking through your t-shirts.

“Do you think an apology solves everything?” You hear him sigh, passing a hand through his hair.

“I- What? No, I thought you’d be more understanding” You stop for a bit, breathing in and breathing out, trying to not get mad at him.

“What?” You turn around slowly.

“You always say that people deserve second chances” He says, afraid of what your reaction will be.

“And how many chances have I given you Peter, I could’ve fucking left you as soon as you started ignoring me. But no, you hug me and everything's okay, I’m your best friend again and we’re fine. Just for you to go and ignore me, again!. What the fuck do you want me to do? Have zero self respect and go back to you just because ‘you’re sorry’?. And don’t even talk about second chances, because you’d had so many fucking chances, and all you do is fuck it up!.” You throw a t-shirt into the suitcase. “If you want me to just forget everything just because you apologised, it better be the bigger apologise anyone has seen, because I’m so fucking tired of everything“ Now you throw a hoodie. “All I ever wanted was for you to be honest, but you couldn’t even do that, so I just, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Where are you going?” He says, like he just noticed that you're packing your things. Catching a t-shirt before it can land into the suitcase.

“Are you telling me that that’s the part you chose to care about?” You ask him, snatching the t-shirt from his hands and throwing it in the suitcase again. Just for him to catch it.

“Yeah, where are you going?” He raises his arm above his head when you try to steal the fabric from his hands.

"You're fucking unbelievable Peter, I'm going to my aunts" You finally catch your T-shirt and put it on the suitcase.

"What? You won't be happy there?" He replies.

“And who says I'm happy here?” You don't look at him as you pick up another T-shirt from your closet. When you turn around, Peter’s emptying your suitcase. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Don’t be immature, just stay here, there’s no need to go there” He pushes your hands when you try to stop him.

“Oh, so I’m being the immature one? Sorry, Mr. I didn’t want my best friend to find out that I’m Spiderman so I just stopped talking to her” You put the clothes that he’s putting on the floor into the suitcase, just as he does the opposite in front of you.

“Oh, I have to get Harry to walk me home because I can’t do it alone” He replies, determined to unpack your suitcase.

“Oh, I can’t even text my best friend to tell her that I ditched her because I was with other girl”

“I already told you we’re just friends. Are you jealous?” He looks at you for a moment, making you take advantage of him and quickly fill up your suitcase.

“You wish I was jealous” You give up, and just watch as Peter empties your suitcase. “Stop being immature and go home”

“Maybe I do wish that you'd be jealous” He drawls, looking down at his work(your clothes on the floor).

“Just go home” You say again, getting up and walking to your closet. He quickly gets up again, and you think is to leave, but he’s next to you immediately.

“I didn’t want you to worry, or be in danger. So it was better to just stop talking to you, because I didn’t have to see your face when you saw the bruises. And I just couldn’t stand the fact that if you knew, you’d be in danger. And I know I fucked up, I’m sorry, I regret it everyday, I just want us to be okay” He admits, looking down at you.

“Are you fucking stupid?” You look at him, confused. “You didn’t want me to worry? So you just ignored me? You’re the dumbest person I’ve ever known. What if something happened to you? What if you fucking died? I’ll be here not knowing that it was because you’re fucking Spiderman –I mean, I would’ve figured it out, but still–. And the ‘being in danger’ shit, I have no fucking words, you think I care about that? You’re so fucking stupid Peter” You turn around and pick your clothes from the floor as you mutter ‘so fucking stupid’.

“You still care about me?” He asks, looking at you, impatiently waiting for your answer.

“You’re actually dumb…” You consider. “Of course I do” His eyes light up.

“Does that mean you forgive me?” He gets closer to you.

“No, I’m still waiting for the biggest apology anyone has ever seen” You start to pack your clothes again.

“You’re still going?” He frowns.

“Yes, I’m leaving tomorrow, so, goodbye Peter” You finish packing and you stay there, looking through the window, where Peter was just minutes ago.

And you know that he is really sorry, but you couldn't give it to him that easily. You'll forgive him as soon as you see the biggest apology you've ever seen.

Because you miss him, you miss your best friend, the guy you've been pining over for a year, the guy who used to walk you home everyday. You miss the insignificant fights you'd have about the homework, about the movie you'll see. You miss Peter Parker.

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

You think about last night as you watch through the window of the taxi, about how close your bodies were for a moment, about everything he said, about the jealous thing. About the fact that you’re still waiting for his apology.

That’s when you see it, the biggest apology you’ve ever seen. Just in front of you everyone, but just for you. After you tell the driver to stop the car you get out of it as soon as possible, looking at the “I’m sorry” made of webs.

Just when you start to look around, Peter grabs you, and you honestly don’t know how but you end up above the words. Looking at him, and hugging him, because, it’s so fucking scary.

“I’m sorry” He says, after taking out his mask. Looking at you with soft eyes.

“I can tell” You say, looking at his eyes, just so you don’t look down, and because you missed his eyes.

“Is that the biggest apology you’ve ever seen?” He asks, suddenly nervous.

“Yes it is” You talk as you look around you, observing the city. “You’re fucking Spiderman, that’s unbelievable, like, out of all the people, you, that’s so fucking crazy” When you look back at him, he looks like he isn’t breathing. “Yes, Pete, I forgive you, I thought about last night and it was kinda funny, you know? The whole suitcase situation. I missed that, I missed you”

Once the words leave your mouth he smiles like he just won a contest and hugs you. He hugs you like he hasn’t done in a while, and you hug him back, happy to have your best friend back.

“Yeah, I get it, but, um, could we get down? Love the views, but it’s scary” You say, smiling.

“Shit, yes sure” He seems to remember where you two are and puts the mask on before taking you to the taxi.

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

My broken bones are mending

With all these nights we're spending

"I'm sorry" Peter says as he sits on your bed.

"Don't apologise" You tell him, cleaning the wounds on his neck.

"I'll buy you another first aid kit" You smile, patching up his face.

"Well, I hope I won't need it" He chuckles a bit, knowing that you probably will have to.

"Thank you"

"I'm your best friend Peter, and I have morals, if Spider-man was on my window dying I'll help him"

"What if it's a fake Spider-man?" He grins through the pain.

"You think I won't recognise you?" You ask, indicating him to roll down the top of his suit so you can look at the wounds. "Does it hurt?" You look at the bruises on his side.

"I'm better now" He slowly gets up and grabs the clothes you let out for him.

"I'm glad" You smile, cleaning and throwing everything you've used.

When he comes out of the bathroom, already in normal clothes, you're in bed, scrolling down your phone.

"I should leave" He says as he picks up his backpack.

"Stay here Peter" You talk, patting the space you left him next to you.

"Are you sure? I don't want to bother" He says, even though he's smiling.

"Yes, I'm sure" You don't bother to look up your phone. "There's a lot of gossip we have to discuss"

You do look up your phone when he lays down next to you and covers both of you with the blanket.

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

Up on the roof with a school girl crush

Drinking beer out of plastic cups

Say you fancy me, not fancy stuff

You notice people staring at you as you enter the house. You follow Peter through the crowd, and wonder if the music and the smell of alcohol are bothering him.

"I'll get something to drink" Peter talks through the music, once you've found a not so packed corner in one of the rooms.

"If you insist" You smile back at him as he walks away.

You're looking at his back when someone approaches you.

"What are you doing here alone?" Some guy asks you, leaning on the wall behind you.

"Who said I was alone?" You reply, not smiling, rather grimacing from the smell of alcohol he gives off.

"Well, I don't see anyone around right now" He says, looking around, ignoring the fact that you're not even looking at him.

"Maybe it's because I don't wanna talk to anyone" You simply answer.

"You're kicking me out?" He still smiles, even though he wants to look offended.

"I don't know, am I?" You give him a fake smile, just before Peter appears with two cups, and after you grab one, he passes his arm around your waist, facing that guy.

"So you weren't alone" The guy mutters, looking at Peter's arm around you.

"If you wanted to keep her company, you can leave, I'm already here" Peter grinns, oblivious to the look the guy gives him before turning around to bother someone else.

"What was that?" Peter doesn't answer, instead he pulls away and grabs your hand, leading you upstairs, to one of the balconies of the house. "What was that?" You ask again, seeing that he's too focused on his cup.

"He was bothering you" He simply answers, smiling at you, as you both sit on the floor, leaning your back on the wall.

"How did you know that? Maybe I was having a good time" You question, smiling back at him.

"With that look on your face? I doubt it" He raises an eyebrow before raising the cup to his lips.

"Maybe that's my way of flirting. Showing no interest. They seem to like that" You shrug, smiling.

"So you were flirting?" His jaw tightens a bit, looking directly at you.

"What if I was?" You hold his gaze, waiting for any kind of reaction.

But the only thing he does is take out a bottle of alcohol from under his jacket. "What the fuck?" You smile, taking it from as he hands it to you.

"Though it'd be nice to have something just for us" He smiles as you pour it in your cups.

"But you didn't answer" You remind him.

"I mean, I'm your best friend, I have to approve them first" He jokes.

"That's the reason?" You half close your eyes.

"Yes" He looks away, drinking.

"You sure? No other reason?" You insist, stretching out your arm to poke his cheek.

"Yes" He moves away, fighting his smile.

"Are you really sure?" You scoot over to be closer to him, still poking his cheek.

"Yes, I'm sure, okay?" He finally lets the smile out and grabs your wrist as he pulls away.

"No, not okay, I don't believe you" You try to get your hand free, but he holds it tighter.

"Why don't you believe me?" He asks you.

"You don't seem believable" You smile, looking at him as you drink.

"Maybe it's you who doesn't want to believe me" He talks back.

"Maybe" You shrug.

"But for what reason?" He insists, leaning to see your face.

"I don't know" You sigh, drinking the rest of your cup. "But it's true that you don't seem believable"

"So you don't believe me and I don't believe you, we're even" He smiles, knowing there’s no point in trying to get you to talk.

"I guess" You smile back at him.

At some point, maybe when you're talking about the stars or when you finish the bottle. You find yourself on Peter's lap, his lips on yours and his hands on your hair.

You feel the grip he has on you, and how his lips go to your neck, you also feel him smirking against your skin.

And you also hear someone knocking on the door, making you pull away immediately.

You don't talk, not when you get up, or when he holds your hand to lead you through the people. You talk when he's walking you home.

"Can we not talk about that?" You ask, a hand on your neck to feel the hickey he gave you.

"Why?" He says, looking at the hand on your neck, and remembering how it felt to do that.

"We were drunk, Peter, it was a mistake" You remind him.

"Yeah, sure, we won't talk about it" He says, and maybe he means it, because even when he's drunk, he hasn't forgotten about the fact that he's spiderman.

He tries to not be obvious when he's saying goodbye to you, but you still notice him looking at it.

"Peter, stop looking" He smiles.

"I'm not looking" He says, looking directly at your neck.

"You're drunk" You remind him, giving him your back to open your door.

"Kinda" He replies, grinning.

"You should stay" When you turn around, he's still smiling. "Peter if you talk about it i'll kick you out" You remind him as you close the door, both of you already inside.

"Maybe it's worth it" He stops smiling when you leave him alone and walk to your room, mumbling something about a 'mistake', that's all he could hear.

But he keeps his promise and doesn't talk about it. He wants to, but he conforms with having you under his arm while you watch a movie.

He doesn't talk about the next days either, not even when you put makeup on your neck to hide it. And weeks pass, but neither of you have forgotten about it.

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

School bell rings, walk me home

Sidewalk chalk covered in snow

Lost my gloves, you give me one

You were walking home from Harry's, after saying goodbye to him, who leaves tomorrow. Peter's walking by your side. He's huffily talking about the fact that some classmate of yours never stops talking.

"You also talk in class" You remind him, rubbing your hands together to get some warmth in them, you accidentally left your gloves in Harry's house, you already texted him to consider it a parting gift.

"Yeah, to you, it's not the same" He says, taking the glove of his right hand off.

"Why not?" You ask when you see what he's doing. "What are you doing, you're gonna get cold" You say, walking away from him when he tries to give you his glove.

"At least let me give you one" He replies, and he's faster than you, so he quickly grabs your right wrist and puts the glove on.

"What about your other hand?" You ask, still refusing to make him cold, even though he's Spiderman, so it's not that of a problem.

"You'll grab it, and then it won't be cold, okay?" He doesn't give you a chance to protest as he grabs your ungloved hand and starts walking to his house. "And it's not the same because you're worth talking to"

"You're biassed" You tell him, smiling.

"Me? I'd never, how dare you say that" He puts the hand you're not holding in his chest, acting offended.

“Of course you’d never, you react the same when I talk and when Flash talks” You remind him, looking at the snow on the floor.

“That’s because you’re not a shitty person” He says, suddenly grumpy when he talks about him.

“You say that ‘cause you’re I’m your best friend” You look at him.

“Everyone can tell that you’re a good person” He says, genuinely,

“You’re still biassed” You remind him.

“Nonsense, even if I wasn’t your best friend I could still tell that you are a good person” He seems ready to defend his argument with his life.

“How could you tell that?” You ask, curious.

“Because of your aura” You look at him, sceptical “And because you’re pretty” You look away, so he doesn’t notice how flustered you are. But of course he notices, and of course he smiles. Because neither of you have forgotten the ‘maybe I wish you were jealous’ thing, or the fact that you made out at that party.

You don’t say anything, instead, you urge him to walk faster so you can get in his house already. When you walk in, you're greeted by Aunt May, who gives you a big hug.

"Oh sweetie, I missed you so much, you should've told me and I'd make sure that Peter isn't dumb, you're the best that has ever happened to him, I can't believe he almost lost you. Men are so stupid sometimes" She talks as she gives his nephews a bad look.

“Thanks Aunt May” He says, taking off his coat before helping you take off your own as soon as May breaks the hug. “My own family is against me, I can’t believe it”

“It’s okay” You assure her “I could handle him on my own. And they’re really dumb sometimes” You agree with her before following Peter to his room.

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

Light pink sky up on the roof

Sun sinks down, no curfew

After finishing your homework, gossiping and playing video games, you’re both on Peter’s roof, a blanket around both of you as you watch the sunset.

“What about bug-boy, web-head, spidey?” Peter shakes his head with each nickname. “I don’t care, I like spidey”

“Really? I’d prefer bug-boy honestly” He admits, making you smile before looking at your phone, who just made a notification sound.

“What the fuck?” You mutter.

“What?” Peter asks, leaning over your shoulder to see what you’re talking about.

“Flash just asked me on a date?” You say, still looking at your phone.

“Why does he have your number?” He frowns.

“That’s what you care about, really?” You look at him, and you roll your eyes when you see, that, in fact, that’s what he cares about. “I used to tutor him”

“Oh” He seems to relax, but then he frowns again “Didn’t you reject him once?”

“Yes, but he quite didn’t believe that I didn’t like him, so as a last resource, I told him I had a boyfriend” You tell him, looking at your phone, thinking about a way to turn him down.

“And he just believed you? He didn’t ask who he was?” He says, asking himself why he didn’t know any of this.

“I mean, yes” You doubt before talking. “I told him I was dating you, and I also told him that if he ever bothered you again then he’d actually never have a chance with me, so, yeah” You rant, and when he doesn’t say anything, you keep talking. “I guess he saw that we weren’t that close anymore and assumed we broke up”

“And he just- he believed it? He didn’t question it?” He frowns again.

“Actually, he said that it made sense and walked away” You shrug, looking at your phone.

“What? Do we look like a couple?” He asks and prays that you don’t look up to see the smile on his face.

“Should I tell him that we’re back together?” You avoid the question.

“That’d work” He waits to talk again after you type your response.“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Something gave you the nerve

To touch my hand

“Didn’t seem important” You don’t look at him, instead, you look at your phone, which seems to make him lose his patience. So he grabs the hand you’re using to grab your phone and puts it down between both of you, with his on top.

“It didn’t seem important that people could think that we’re dating?” He asks, thanking the sound of the birds, because he thinks that if it were silence, you could hear his heartbeat.

“Does it bother you?” He almost jumps with the assumption.

“What?- Are you crazy?, no- Why would that bother me?. Does it bother you? Well I don’t think so because you’re the one that said it. But it definitely doesn’t bother me. Like, I’d be honoured if someone came to me and asked ‘Are you dating Y/n’. Actually, I’d be more honoured if we were dating for real, you know?” He stops his ranting when he notices what he just said, and just closes his eyes, thinking about swinging out of this situation.

When you don’t say anything, he looks at you, seeing you wide-eyed, fighting a smile.

“Is that your way to ask me to be your girlfriend?” He doesn’t answer, he just looks at your mouth, just as you look at his mouth, who’s fighting to say something.

But the words don’t come out of his mouth, instead, he gets closer to you, and you back down a bit, slightly opening your mouth, looking down at his.

“Easy bug-boy” You smile, reminding the wound you cleaned up just a few hours ago. Also reminding him that you’re supposed to be his best friend.

“What’d you call me?” He whispers, laughing before sighing, so mesmerised by you. You smile, and back away, feeling like you’re in heaven when he sighs again.

“You said you liked that, I could call you Spidey if you wante-” You stop talking, his lips almost touching yours. The hand that was on top of your, goes to one side on your neck. “Peter, we shouldn't” You talk, trying to not lose your breath almost.

“I know” He drawls. And that’s when you give in. His lips go to your neck and you can’t take it anymore. When he’s in front of you again, you stop backing away and lean forward.

When your lips meet you feel like you’re going to die. The cold that you were feeling goes away. And you don’t care anymore about the people that could see you.

You just focus on his mouth, so needy for you. His hands, touching you to make sure you won't go away. His body, practically hovering over you.

He's fighting so bad his impulses to not bite your lip, because he's been waiting for this for a long time. But he does anyway, and he seems proud of himself when he hears the sound you make.

His hand moves to the back of your neck, and he moves your head so he can kiss you better. You let him do whatever he wants, and you groan when he stops kissing you.

He laughs after seeing your face, and his lips go to your neck immediately. His other hand goes to your waist, and while you use one to support your body, the other goes to Peter's hair. Which you keep touching when his lips are touching yours again.

He's practically on top of you, and he's about to make you lay down, but you hear someone walking down the street.

So you pull away, and after realising what you just did, both of your hands leave each others body immediately.

"That was a bad idea" You say, barely breathing.

"I'm in love with you" The breath you just catched goes away, and his eyes search for your gaze after he rants. "I'm so in love with you I don't think it's normal. Because you're so, perfect, and I know I don't deserve you"

"Don't say that" You frown.

"You're too nice and I'm so…" He looks at his hands.

"Peter, don't say that" You repeat.

"And I know it's selfish for me to tell you, but we just kissed" He smiles. "And I get it if you don't feel the same but-" You don't give him a chance to continue talking, instead. You grab his face with your hands and kiss him again. This time it's softer, and you just wish that he gets what you mean. You hope that he knows that you're also in love with him, that you love him so much you want to die.

When you pull away, you rest your forehead on his, closing your eyes, because you're sure that the intensity of his gaze might decompose you.

"I love you so much you don't get it. And don't ever say that you don't deserve me. You're so…" You sigh, not able to express it right now. "I'm in love with you, Peter"

"Are you sure?" You look at him, actually wondering if he's being for real.

"We just kissed?" You tell him, to make sure if he remembers.

"You kiss a lot of people that you don't love" He says, thinking about the parties you used to attend every weekend.

"Did you give me a hickey?" You ask, touching your neck.

"You're changing the subject" He closes his eyes halfway. You sigh.

"You're the one changing the subject" You talk back.

"Why would I change the subject?" He sounds offended, even though he's smiling.

"Because you don't want to believe that I'm in love with you" He smiles "Because you think you don't deserve me" He stops smiling "Which is the dumbest thing you've ever said, and it's saying something, because you say a lot of stupid shit" He smiles again.

"Because it's true, it's dangerous, what would they do knowing that you're Spiderman's girlfriend?" He stops smiling, and looks away, regretting everything.

"I'm already your best friend" You remind him.

"It wouldn't be the same, they love that cliche where they get the hero's girlfriend" He scowls.

"They probably think we're already dating" You see him fighting a smile.

"But still-" You roll your eyes, tired of this.

"I'm sure, I'm in love with you" You tell him. And he smiles, he looks so fucking happy, especially when he talks again.

"I did, in fact, give you a hickey" He looks at it, and grabs your wrist when you try to hit him. He doesn't let it go, instead, he puts it down and grabs your hand. "Does that mean you want to be my girlfriend?"

"No, we just ate each other's faces and confessed our love but I won't be your girlfriend, idiot" You say, sarcastically.

"Is that how you talk to the boy you love? No wonder you're single" He rolls his eyes.

"We aren't even together and you're already leaving me" You frown, but it quickly turns into a smile.

"I would never" He assures.

"Yes Peter, I want to be your girlfriend"

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

"Weren't you already dating?" Is what uncle Ben and aunt May ask you when you walk in holding hands a week later.

"What? No" You both say, at the same time.

"Oh, congratulations then" May says, having an excuse to hug both of you again.

"Took you long enough to get the girl" Ben says, but smiles anyway, giving Peter's back a pat.

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

It’s nice to have a friend

You were walking around Peter's room, he just came back from his usual duty as Spider-man, and was finishing some homework.

"This is new" You tell him, taking a book out of the bookcase, and showing it to him.

"What?" He looks up, and when he sees what's in your hand, his face goes red. Making you frown.

"What's this?" You ask him, smiling as he gets up slowly, afraid that a sudden move might make you open the book.

"Nothing" He lies, walking a step forward, making you back away immediately.

"That's not true, what is it?" You ask again, and before you can look at the book, it flies away from your hand. When you look at Peter, he's taking the webs out of the cover.

"Nothing" This time you're the one who walks forward, closing your eyes halfway.

“What are you hiding?” You’re getting closer to him, actually afraid that he might jump out of the window.

“What do you mean? I’m not hiding anything” He talks as he hides the book behind his back. Once you’re in front of him, he sticks the book on the ceiling and grabs your face so he can kiss it when you look upward.

“Kisses are not going to get you out of this, why are you so embarrassed of a book?” You don’t move when he continues kissing you.

“I’m not embarrassed” You look at his face, almost as red as his suit. “And how are you going to get it out of there anyway?”

“I’m sure May would love to see that” You start to walk away when he wraps his arms around you, laughing.

"Promise you won't laugh at me" He talks, with his arms still hugging you.

"I promise" You assure him, and after he hears it, he jumps and effortlessly sticks to the ceiling, grabbing the book.

He gives it to you and turns around, muttering something about homework.

When you open it you see a lot of pictures, professional ones, polaroids, and even printed from his phone. There's photos of both of you together, of you, and of the things that you like.

Photos of you trying to do your makeup, reading in class, studying, sleeping, crying from laughter. You petting a dog, a cat, running away from a bug. You holding a test that has a 100 written on it. You sitting on a bench while reading a book.

Selfies that you took when he was distracted, when he was texting Flash to leave you alone, when you arrived at your first party. Photos of him doing homework while you sat in his bed. There's one of May and you trying to bake while Peter and Ben are trying to help. You kissing his cheek, and him kissing yours.

Photos of the flowers you saw on the street once and said that you like, a certain street that gave you good vibes, some of the drawings you made of both of you in class. Photos of the matching keychains you made for you to share.

Apart from the date in which the photo was taken, there's annotations under every single photo. Some of them say 'I love you so much', or, 'You fell down right after I took this photo'.

He put his thoughts under each picture, even when it's just 'You look hot in this one'. And that photo was from when you two were just best friends. He also put 'I made that ;)' under the photo where you can see a hickey on your neck.

The book is full of every moment of your friendship, even when that moment was you trying to cut Peter's hair. There was everything, sad thoughts, happy thoughts, normal teenager thoughts.

After you look at every single page, you look up to see Peter watching you.

"Do you think I'm crazy?" He asks after you two just stare at each other.

'What? Why would I think that?" You frown, sitting next to him in his bed.

"Because I made that" He avoids your gaze.

"And it's beautiful Peter, I love it, it's amazing" You hug his side, leaving the book on the chair.

"Are you lying?" He asks and you laugh, rolling your eyes

"You're the dumbest person I know" You lay down as you talk, making him lay down next to you, he turns around so you're facing each other.

"You say that a lot" He frowns, looking almost offended.

"Because it's true, why would I lie? I love it" You see him fighting a smile.

"Thank you" He stops fighting and grins.

"Did you really think I looked hot that day? I remember that you took a lot of photos" He hugs you and hides his face on your neck, and laughs.

"Really?" He talks with his face still on your neck.

"Yes, because if I remember well, we were best friends, you know? Do you think it's normal thinking about your best friend that way?" You grab his face in your hands, making him look at you as you talk.

"Like you're one to talk" He rolls his eyes.

"I'm sorry? I've never thought that" You add, innocently.

"Because I didn't see you almost drool when I wore that outfit you bought me" You smile thinking about it, wondering how you got him to accept your gift.

"You looked hot, you should wear it again" You smile, giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

"Didn't you say you never thought that?" He closes his eyes halfway, leaning in to kiss you again.

"But we're already dating, dumbass" You smile

"Right"

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

They said the end is coming

"What if something happens to you because of me?" You see him trying to hold the tears in his eyes.

"No, listen, listen-" You try to talk, but he doesn't seem to care.

"No, wait, wait, wait" He cuts you off, not willing to let you talk. "I cannot let that happen"

"Listen to me" You get closer to him, so he has no choice but to lean on the wall behind him. "You're Spider-Man, and I love that. But I love Peter Parker more, I always loved you, with no Spider bite and all, with glasses, contact lenses or whatever, that's not gonna change" You search for his gaze. "That's worth it to me"

"I can't lose you" He says, looking directly into your eyes.

"If because you can't lose me, we can't be together, who does that work out for, Peter?" You ask, already knowing the answer.

"I can't, I'm sorry Y/n" You look away, laughing as the tears begin to fill your eyes.

"Wow. You've done this to me again and again Peter. I can't live like this" You take a step backwards as you talk.

"I know, I'm sorry" He doesn't move, instead, he looks at you. "We should break up" He says, so quietly that you have to lean forwards to make sure you heard him right.

"What?" You ask him.

"We should break up" You stare at him, not showing any emotion.

"No" You simply say, crossing your arms.

"What?- You can't say no to a break up?" He frowns.

"I can, and I do, we are not breaking up" You remind him.

"Y/n… It's for the best" He looks down.

"No" You cross your arms. He sighs, passing a hand through his hair.

"Look-"

"I said I can't live like this, but not in that way. You can break up with me when you stop loving me, or when being with me hurts you. But not because of self sabotaging" You don’t talk for a second, letting him process the information. “So, I’m gonna go, talk to me when you don’t want to break up with me”

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

When you open your shared playlist the morning after, you see that the most recent added song is Afterglow-Taylor Swift

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

Everyone’s up to something

You don’t see Peter until the night after your ‘break up’. He is on your door, with flowers in his hands and sorrys on his lips.

“I’m sorry” He talks as you let him in, scanning his body for new bruises.

“Are you okay?” You ask, grabbing the flowers to put them in a vase.

“You’re too good for me” He mutters as you lead him to the couch, making him sit next to you.

“Stop saying that” You remind him, grabbing his hand.

“I’m sorry” He looks at you, nothing but honesty in his eyes.

“You came here to tell me something, didn’t you?” He nods, still looking for madness in your eyes. “Then do it”

“I don’t want to break up with you, but I don’t want to lose you. If something happened to you because of me, I’d never forgive me. But you make me happy, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, I don’t want to lose you” He hugs you, not sure if you’re the one who’s going to break up with him.

“You won’t lose me Peter, they won’t hurt me, if I survived Flash’s tries to flirt with me, I’ll survive anything. I promise” He stays silent for a moment, chuckling at the Flash's mention. Then, he talks.

“I love you”

“I love you too”

He stays there for the night, giving you nothing but kisses, hugs and sweet nothings.

🕸 ⊹ ⋆

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

“Shut up” Peter says, finally getting up from the chair and walking to his bed, where you're laying.

“No, I’m being for real, hear me out” He suddenly lies on top of you, leaving you unable to get up, but you keep talking. “We make T-shirts with exclusive pictures, and boom, we’re rich”

“You really want to sell my pictures?” He puts his head on your chest, closing his eyes.

“What about one with no shirt and the mask, to keep your identity safe-” Even though he’s not looking, he can feel your smile as he covers your mouth with his hand.

“Let’s sleep” You laugh, pulling his hand away from your face.

“We could be rich” You remind him.

“Shut up” He chuckles, lifting his head to look at you.

“Okay, maybe not sell them to the press, but” He waits for you to finish, raising his

eyebrows.

“Don’t you think Flash would want a T-shirt from the actual Spiderman?”

He doesn’t react for a moment, considering if you’re being serious or not, then, he kisses you, a quick peck, giving you no time to react.

“I’m so in love with you” He says, his head on your chest again.

"I'm so in love with you too" You tell him, with your hand through his hair.

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