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secretaccountlol · 7 days ago

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Desire in the Web.ᝰ.ᐟ

Spider-man x F!Black Reader. (Smut/NSFW)

˗ˏˋ As a villain, you've been causing trouble for Spider-Man, but lately, things have taken a turn. There's a growing tension and attraction between you two. Spider-Man is torn between his heroic duties and the desire that's building inside him. You decide to use this to your advantage, taunting and toying with him as you plot your possible escape.

⤷ Oneshot, smut, oral sex, very detailed so here’s the warning!

⤷ A/N: I saw that y’all liked my Peter Parker/Spiderman story so I wanted to make another one! I also want to do something different. And he’s aged up to 20! This is for my bestie Mia-Mia as well!! I know you're gonna love this one.

⤷ Word count: 2,795

⤷ Special song to add spice: Harleys In Hawaii by Katty Perry

⏦ﾟ♡︎

You’re trapped. His webs cling to your arms, and your legs, pinning you against the cold brick wall of the alleyway. The rain is coming down in sheets, soaking through your suit, and you can smell the metallic tang of the city mingling with the earthy dampness around you.

Spider-Man. Of course, it’s him. Always him. He lands in front of you with that infuriatingly confident stance, his mask hiding everything but the tension in his jaw. You know that tension isn’t just about stopping you. It’s different tonight. Deeper.

"Well," you drawl, your voice dripping with mockery, "looks like the neighborhood hero finally caught me. What’s the plan, Spider? Take me in? Lecture me about how I’m on the wrong path?"

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he steps closer. His red and blue suit glistened under the dim streetlight. His gloved fingers twitch slightly, and you can feel the heat of his body even through the rain.

He’s hesitating. You’ve seen this before, the way he lingers just a little too long, the way his eyes—those damn eyes—seem to linger on you even when he’s trying to focus on the mission.

"You’re not getting away this time," he finally says, his voice low and strained. It’s not just determination in his tone. There’s something else. Something you’ve been intentionally stoking for weeks now.

"Oh, I’m not?" You tilt your head, your lips curling into a smirk. "You sure about that, Spider? Because you’ve had me in this position before, and yet… here I am again. Funny how that works."

He growls a sound that’s more frustration than anger and takes another step forward. The rain is plastering his mask to his face, and you can see the outline of his lips, the way they’re pressed into a tight line. Perfect.

"You’re playing a dangerous game," he warns, his voice dropping even lower.

"Dangerous?" You laugh, the sound echoing off the walls of the alley.

"This isn’t dangerous, Spider. This is… fun. And I think you’re starting to enjoy it too."

His hands clench into fists, but he doesn’t move. You’re close enough now that if you leaned forward, you could kiss him. Not that you would. Not yet.

You’re savoring this, the push and pull, the way he’s fighting himself more than he’s fighting you.

"You think I don’t see what you’re doing?" he snaps, finally breaking the silence. "You’re trying to mess with my head. It’s not going to work."

"Is that what I’m doing?" You feign innocence, batting your lashes.

"Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re the one who can’t keep his eyes off me. Or is that just the hero complex talking?"

He exhales sharply, a sound that’s almost a growl, and then before you can react, his hand is on your throat. Not hard, but firm enough to make your breath catch. Finally.

"You’re pushing me," he warns, his voice almost a whisper.

"Or maybe," you purr, your voice trembling slightly but still laced with defiance, "you’re just tired of pretending you don’t want this."

For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of the rain and the ragged rhythm of your breathing. Suddenly he pulls his mask halfway up. Only exposing his lips. Then, his lips crash into yours, rough and desperate, and you can feel the heat of him through the suit. His other hand is on your waist, pulling you closer, regardless of you being trapped in his webs. You can feel the hardness of him pressing against you.

It’s not gentle. It’s not sweet. It’s raw, animalistic, the kind of kiss that leaves you breathless and aching. His tongue invades your mouth, and you bite down hard, drawing a low groan from him. He pulls back, his chest heaving, and for a moment, you think he’s going to stop, to walk away. But then his hands are on your hips, lifting you effortlessly, and your back is hitting the wall again, the cold brick a sharp contrast to the heat of his body.

"Spider," you gasp, your voice trembling, "you’re going to regret this."

"I already do," he growls, and then his mouth is on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as his hands work to free you from the webs. They’ll take a while to dissolve, but he doesn’t seem to care, his hands slipping under your clothes, his fingers rough and demanding.

"You’re going to hate yourself tomorrow," you whisper, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"Maybe," he says, his breath hot against your ear, "but right now, I don’t give a damn."

His hands are on your ass now, lifting you higher, and you wrap your legs around his waist, grinding against him. The friction is electric, and you can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding back, barely.

You were getting wetter by the second.

"Fuck me," you demand, your voice low and throaty. "Right here. Right now."

He growls a sound that sends shivers down your spine, and then his fingers are working at the bottom of your suit. Pullingthem down just enough to expose you. He’s fumbling with his suit, his movements hurried and clumsy, and then he’s inside you, filling you in one rough thrust.

You cry out, the sound swallowed by the rain, and your nails dig into his back. He’s not gentle, not this time, his thrusts are hard and unrelenting, each one driving you closer to the edge. You can feel the tension building in your body, the heat coiling in your core, and you know he’s feeling it too, the way his breath is coming in short, ragged gasps.

"Look at you," you whisper, your voice trembling, "the great Spider-Man, fucking the villain he’s supposed to stop. What would your fans think?"

He growls, his hips slamming into yours with even more force, and you can feel the sting of the brick wall against your back, the ache in your legs as you cling to him. But you don’t care. You don’t care about the pain, the rain, the danger. All you care about is the man in front of you, the way he’s losing control, the way he’s giving in to the desire he’s been fighting for so long.

"Harder," you demand, your voice breaking, and he obliges, his thrusts becoming even more brutal, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

His moans were like a drug, and the feel of his hands on you was intoxicating. His possessive and affectionate touch was both thrilling and comforting.

You can feel it building, the tension in your body, the heat in your core, and then it’s too much, too overwhelming, and you’re coming, your body shuddering against his.

He follows you over the edge, his body tensing, his thrusts becoming erratic, and then he’s collapsing against you, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of the rain and the pounding of your heart.

And then he pulls back, his mask still plastered to his face, his eyes dark and unreadable. "This doesn’t change anything," he says, his voice low and dangerous.

"Oh, Spider," you whisper, your lips curling into a smirk, "I think it changes everything."

── .✦

The rain had stopped, leaving the streets glistening under the dim glow of streetlights. Spider-Man stood there, his suit still clinging to his skin, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. You, the villain, leaned against the damp brick wall, your smirk never wavering. The air between you was thick with tension, a dangerous cocktail of desire and rivalry.

"You’re always so predictable, Spider," you purred, your voice low and sultry. "Always chasing after little old me. But tell me…" You stepped closer, your hips swaying with every step, the sound of your heels clicking against the wet pavement echoing in the alley. "What would you do if I stopped running?"

His eyes narrowed under the mask, but you could see the flicker of curiosity—and something darker—behind them. "What are you getting at?" he asked, his voice steady but with a hint of intrigue.

You reached out, your fingers grazing the fabric of his suit, feeling the heat radiating from his body. "Come with me," you whispered, leaning in so close that your breath ghosted over the edge of his mask. "Just for tonight. Let me show you what it feels like to let go."

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he weighed his options. You could see the conflict in him, the struggle between his duty and the pull of whatever this was between you. Then, finally, he nodded. "Lead the way."

Your smirk widened as you turned, walking confidently down the alley, knowing he would follow. The city buzzed around you, but it felt distant and irrelevant. All that mattered was the game you were playing, the one you were determined to win.

Your lair was hidden in plain sight, an unassuming building in the heart of the city. Inside, it was a different story—a sleek, modern space filled with cutting-edge technology and decadent touches. You led him through the dimly lit rooms, the air thick with the scent of leather and something faintly floral. Finally, you stopped in a room dominated by a large, circular bed, the walls made entirely of glass, overlooking the city skyline.

"Impressive," Spider-Man said, his voice tinged with caution. "But this doesn’t mean I trust you."

You laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down his spine. "Oh, Spider, you don’t have to trust me. You justhave to let go."

You moved closer, your body brushing against his as you reached up to trace the edge of his mask. "Take it off," you murmured, your voice dripping with temptation. "Let me see you."

He hesitated again, his breathing growing shallow. Then, slowly, he peeled the mask off, revealing Peter Parker’s face—youthful, vulnerable, and undeniably handsome. You stared at him for a moment, savoring the way his eyes flickered with uncertainty and desire.

"Beautiful," you whispered, though you knew better than to let him hear it. Instead, you closed the distance between you, your lips crashing against his in a searing kiss. He groaned into your mouth, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer.

The kiss was fierce, and desperate, a battle for dominance that neither of you was willing to lose. Your hands slid under his suit, feeling the hard planes of his chest, the way his muscles tensed under your touch. He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged as he stared at you, his eyes dark with hunger.

"Tell me what you want," he growled, his voice rough with need.

You smirked, your hands trailing down his chest to the waistband of his suit. "I want to see you beg," you whispered, your voice a low, dangerous purr.

He let out a choked laugh, but there was no humor in it. "You’re playing with fire."

"And yet," you murmured, your fingers toying with the edge of his suit, "you’re the one who’s burning."

Before he could respond, you pushed him down onto the bed, climbing on top of him with a predatory grace. You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear. "Let me show you what it feels like to lose control."

And then you kissed him again, harder this time, your hips grinding against his, feeling the way he hardened beneath you. His hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you closer, his body arching against yours.

This is it, you thought, your mind hazy with desire. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for.

You pulled back, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. "Take off the suit," you commanded, your voice firm and unyielding.

He hesitated for only a moment before obeying, stripping off the suit and tossing it aside, leaving him bare before you. You took in the sight of him—his lean, muscular frame, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the way his cock stood hard and ready against his stomach.

"Perfect," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. Then you leaned down, your hands sliding up his thighs, feeling the way they trembled under your touch. "Now, let’s see how long you can last."

You wrapped your hand around him, stroking him slowly, savoring the way his breath hitched and his hips bucked into your touch. His hands gripped the sheets, his knuckles turning white as he tried to hold back, to keep control.

"Don’t fight it," you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear. "Let go."

And then you took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip before sliding down the length of him. He moaned, his hips jerking upward as you took him deeper, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. He was thick, his cock filling your mouth as you worked him, every stroke driving him closer to the edge.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hands perfectly grabbing your braids as he tried to hold you still, but you pulled back, teasing him with the tip before plunging down again. He cried out, his body tensing as he tried to control himself, but you were relentless, your mouth and hand working in perfect sync.

"You’re so close," you murmured, pulling back to look at him, your lips swollen and glistening. "But I’m not done with you yet."

You climbed off him, ignoring his protest as you turned around, straddling his chest. You leaned down, your breasts brushing against his face as you whispered, "Your turn."

He didn’t need any more encouragement, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you down onto his face, his tongue delving into you with a hunger that matched your own. You moaned, your hands tangling in his hair as he licked and sucked, his tongue driving you wild.

"Don’t stop," you gasped, your hips grinding against his face as his tongue worked its magic. You could feel the heat building in your core, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable.

I’m so close, you thought, your mind hazy with pleasure. Just a little more…

And then he slid a finger inside you, curling it just right, and you were coming, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed over you. He didn’t stop, his tongue and fingers continuing to work you through your orgasm until you were a trembling, gasping mess.

You rolled off him, your body still trembling as you caught your breath. He stared at you, his chest rising and falling, his eyes dark with hunger.

"You’re insatiable," he muttered, his voice rough with need.

You smirked, your hand trailing down his chest to his cock, feeling the way it twitched under your touch. "And you’re far from done," you murmured, your voice a low, dangerous purr. "Now, let’s see how much you can take."

You climbed on top of him, guiding him into you, your breath hitching as he filled you completely. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips as you moved, your bodies sliding together in perfect sync. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with your breathy moans and his choked gasps.

"Fuck," he muttered, his hands sliding up your body to grip your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "You’re… unbelievable."

You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear. "And you’re mine," you whispered, your voice a low, dangerous purr. "Even if it’s just for tonight."

He groaned, his hips bucking upward as you moved, your bodies sliding together in a perfect rhythm. The sound of skin against skin filled the room still. Mingling with your breathy moans and his choked gasps. You could feel the tension building inside you again, your body coiling tighter and tighter as he thrust into you, his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you.

“Surrender to me,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips as he thrust harder, deeper. "Let go."

And then you were coming again, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed over you. He followed you over the edge, his body tensing as he spilled inside you, his grip on your hips almost painful as he held you still.

You collapsed on top of him, your bodies still trembling as you caught your breath. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your breathing and the steady thrum of your hearts.

And then he spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "This doesn’t change anything."

You smirked, your lips brushing against his ear. "Oh, Spider," you whispered, your voice dripping with amusement. "I told you—it changes everything."

HAHAHHSHDDHSHDHUWDHU. IM BITING MY LAPTOP RN- THIS IS SO GOOD. I hope you all AGREE!!!

(Credits: Aylaksu141 on TikTok)

See you later ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

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secretaccountlol · 8 days ago

Note

i NEED Doppelgänger Peter and the real Peter having Y/n at the same time if you know what i mean Btw, you writing it's so good omg i'm in love with it

Definitely! Hope you enjoy!

spin off from this post

DOPPELGÄNGER! PETER PARKER x READER x PETER PARKER: WHOS BETTER?

WARNINGS: doppelgängers, SMUT,

MINORS DNI

You were in love with Peter Parker.

Or at least, you thought you were.

Your fingers curled against his bare shoulders, his warmth pressing into you as his lips trailed down your neck. He had been different lately—more confident, more assertive—but you didn’t question it. If anything, you welcomed it.

Peter had always been sweet, but lately, he had started looking at you like he owned you. Touching you like he needed you.

And God, you wanted to be needed.

“Peter,” you gasped as he pulled you flush against him, his lips hungry, hands gripping your waist possessively. He smirked against your skin, almost devouring you with his gaze.

But then—

The bedroom door slammed open.

Your head snapped toward the noise, a startled gasp leaving your lips as you scrambled to cover yourself. But the moment you locked eyes with the person in the doorway, your blood turned to ice.

Because standing there, wide-eyed and breathless—was Peter Parker.

The real Peter Parker.

Your heart stuttered. You looked at the man beneath you, your so-called boyfriend, and then back at the Peter in the doorway. Identical. Same tousled brown hair, same deep eyes, same everything.

The Peter you were with exhaled slowly, like this moment was inevitable.

“Well,” he mused, his grip on your waist tightening. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

The real Peter’s face was a warzone of emotions—rage, confusion, horror. His fists clenched, his breathing ragged as his gaze flickered between you and… himself.

“What the fuck is going on?”

The doppelgänger sighed, lazily dragging his fingers down your back, sending a shiver up your spine. He was still touching you—as if he had no intention of stopping, even now.

“Don’t look so surprised,” he said, tilting his head at the real Peter. “You knew this would happen eventually.”

Peter took a step forward, voice dark with barely restrained fury. “Who the hell are you?”

Your doppelgänger boyfriend just chuckled.

“C’mon, Pete. You already know.”

And in that moment, you realized—he was right.

The real Peter did know.

His lips parted slightly, his expression twisting with something like recognition… and fear.

Your stomach dropped.

“What—” Your voice came out barely above a whisper. “What’s going on?”

The doppelgänger sighed, tilting his head to look up at you with something dangerous in his eyes.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, “I was going to tell you.” He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear like this was just an everyday conversation. “But then you started falling for me, and… well.” His lips curled into something dark. “I didn’t want to ruin the moment.”

Peter was shaking. You had never seen him like this before—like he was on the verge of losing control.

“You sick fuck,” he spat. “You pretended to be me? You touched her?”

Your fake Peter only grinned, like he found this amusing. “And she loved every second of it.”

The air was thick with tension, the weight of betrayal and horror pressing down on you from all sides. Your mind raced, replaying every moment from the past few weeks—every kiss, every touch, every whisper in the dark.

It had never been him.

The real Peter’s voice was low, almost shaking.

“Get your hands off her.”

The doppelgänger’s smirk widened—but he didn’t let go. If anything, his fingers tightened around your waist.

“Or what?” he taunted. “You gonna stop me?”

Peter’s jaw clenched, his entire body trembling with rage.

“I’m gonna kill you.”

And in that instant, everything exploded.

Twisted Reflection (Part 2)

The air was electric.

Peter’s fists were clenched at his sides, every muscle in his body tensed like a live wire. The doppelgänger still had his hands on you, a smirk tugging at his lips like this was some kind of game.

And worst of all—you were caught between them.

“You’re disgusting,” Peter spat, stepping forward. His eyes burned with fury, but beneath it, there was something else—something raw.

The doppelgänger hummed, his fingers lazily tracing circles on your hip, making you shudder. He wasn’t touching you like you were just some pawn in his game. He was touching you like you belonged to him.

“Funny,” he mused, tilting his head. “She didn’t seem to think so a few minutes ago.”

Peter snapped.

He lunged, grabbing the doppelgänger by the collar, ripping him away from you. Your heart slammed against your ribs as they nearly crashed into the wall, chests heaving, eyes wild.

“You stole my face,” Peter growled, voice low and venomous. “You stole her.”

The doppelgänger just grinned, unfazed. “I didn’t steal anything.” His gaze flickered to you, dark amusement twinkling in his eyes. “She wanted me. She still does.”

Your breath hitched.

Peter stilled.

For a split second, the tension in the room shifted—morphed into something else.

His grip on the doppelgänger’s shirt loosened, just slightly. His jaw clenched, his breathing unsteady.

And then his eyes met yours.

Something dangerous flickered there, something possessive, something… jealous.

Because as much as he hated this imposter, as much as he wanted to rip him apart with his bare hands—there was no denying the truth.

You had let him touch you.

His voice dropped lower, rougher.

“…Did you know?”

Your mouth went dry. “Peter—”

“Did you know it wasn’t me?” he cut in, stepping closer, gaze dark and searching. His voice was low, dripping with something heavy. “When he kissed you? When he touched you?” His head tilted slightly, eyes locked onto yours. “Did you feel the difference?”

Your breath shuddered.

The doppelgänger chuckled, running a lazy hand through his hair. “She liked it,” he murmured, like he was sharing a secret. “Didn’t you, sweetheart?”

Peter’s jaw tightened. His knuckles were white, but he didn’t move—just stood there, watching you, waiting.

Daring you to answer.

The tension in the room was suffocating. Heat coiled in your stomach, a twisted mix of shame, confusion, and something forbidden.

Peter knew it.

The doppelgänger knew it.

And you—caught between them, between two identical faces filled with hunger and fury—couldn’t breathe.

“Stop,” you whispered. It was meant to be firm, but your voice betrayed you, coming out soft. Shaky.

The doppelgänger smirked at that, his tongue running along his lower lip. “She doesn’t want to stop.”

Peter snapped.

He slammed the imposter against the wall again, this time pressing an arm against his throat. “Shut. Up.”

But the doppelgänger only grinned.

“Face it, Pete,” he rasped, voice strained but still smug. “You hate that I touched her. But you hate even more that she let me.”

Peter inhaled sharply. His grip faltered—just for a moment.

And then, slowly, his gaze flickered back to you.

There was something new in his eyes now. Something primal.

Possession.

Territorial.

Your skin burned under the weight of it.

Peter released the doppelgänger with a shove, stepping back—but not toward him. Toward you.

“Tell me,” he murmured, voice lower now, almost hypnotic. “Did you like it?”

Your stomach twisted. “Peter—”

“Did you?” he pushed, his voice dangerously close to something desperate.

You swallowed. The doppelgänger exhaled a laugh behind him, rubbing his throat, watching with open amusement.

“Careful,” he teased. “You’re starting to sound like me.”

Peter ignored him.

His eyes were still locked onto yours, filled with something dark and stormy and needy.

Your breath came uneven. You should be disgusted. You should be running.

But you weren’t.

You were trapped between two men who were exactly the same—except one wanted to own you, and the other wanted to win you.

And neither of them were letting go.

The air was suffocating.

You could feel the heat radiating off both of them, the tension so thick it wrapped around you like an unbreakable web.

Peter’s jaw was tight, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths. His eyes—so familiar, so his—were locked onto you, searching, burning. But right beside him, identical in every way, the doppelgänger smirked, head tilted like he was enjoying a private joke.

You were still caught between them.

And neither was willing to let you go.

“She’s not a prize,” Peter snapped suddenly, his fists clenching. “This isn’t a game.”

The doppelgänger only chuckled, shifting slightly so that his shoulder just barely brushed yours. “Isn’t it?” he murmured, voice smooth. “Because I remember her moaning for me just a few minutes ago. Pretty sure I was winning.”

Peter’s nostrils flared, and for a second, you thought he was going to throw another punch. But instead, his gaze flickered to you again, something dark and needy flashing behind his eyes.

“You thought he was me,” he said. It wasn’t a question. It was a fact, spoken with something raw, something fragile beneath the anger.

Your stomach twisted.

You had.

You had kissed him, touched him, wanted him—without ever realizing the truth.

The doppelgänger hummed, dragging the tip of his finger down your bare arm, making you shiver. “The real question is…” he mused, watching your reaction closely, “…who made you feel better?”

You sucked in a breath.

Peter froze.

The shift in energy was almost unbearable.

The doppelgänger leaned in slightly, his voice a whisper in your ear. “Who made your heart race? Who made your legs shake?”

Your breath hitched.

Peter inhaled sharply, his hands twitching like he wanted to pull you back. To take back what was his.

The doppelgänger’s smirk widened. He tilted his head toward Peter, eyes gleaming. “Face it, Parker. You don’t want to fight me.” His gaze flickered to you, predatory and knowing. “You want to prove yourself.”

The words settled between them like gasoline on an open flame.

And Peter—sweet, selfless, yours—didn’t deny it.

His jaw tensed. His fingers flexed at his sides. He swallowed, hard, his mind warring with something deeper, something primal.

Because the doppelgänger was right.

Peter had spent his entire life doing the right thing. Resisting temptation. Holding himself back.

But this?

This was different.

Because he hadn’t just lost a fight.

He had lost you. And Peter Parker was not about to let that happen.

The air pulsed. A silent challenge. A test of dominance, of control.

The doppelgänger arched a brow, clearly entertained. “So?” He reached for you again, fingers grazing your hip. “What’s it gonna be, Parker?”

Peter exhaled slowly. Then, finally—he lifted his gaze.

And the look in his eyes made your knees weak.

“I don’t lose,” Peter murmured. His voice was low. Dangerous.

His hand reached out, gently tilting your chin up—forcing you to look only at him.

And in that moment, you realized—They weren’t going to fight over you anymore.

They were going to show you.

As the two Peters close in around you, you can feel the tension building between them. They're both so attracted to each other, and to you, and it's like the air is charged with electricity.

The doppelgänger reaches out and brushes your hair behind your ear, his touch sending shivers down your spine. The first Peter follows suit, his fingers tracing along your jawline as he leans in close.

You can feel their hot breath on your skin as they whisper sweet nothings in your ear. The doppelgänger is talking about how much he wants to possess you, to claim you as his own. The first Peter is talking about how much he cares for you, how much he wants to protect you.

As they continue to whisper in your ear, their words start to blend together into a sensual haze of sound and sensation. You can feel their lips brushing against your skin as they kiss along your neck and shoulders.

The room starts to spin around you as they pull you closer into their arms. You're trapped between them now completely enveloped by their bodies heat radiating off them like an inferno making everything else fade away. The doppelgänger grabbed you roughly, spinning you around to kiss you.

Peter watched for a moment before joining in, his lips brushing against your neck in soft caresses. As the doppelgänger continued to kiss you roughly, Peter whispered words of praise in your ear. "You're so beautiful," he murmured.

The doppelgänger pulled back and sneered at Peter's gentle words. "That's not what she wants to hear," he growled. "She wants to be told she's a dirty girl, that she loves being fucked by two men at once." He leaned in close and whispered filthy things in your ear.

Despite the rough words from the doppelgänger however Peter continued praising her telling her how much she means him while making love all together as one unit both showing different forms love yet blending perfectly into each other creating steamy night filled passion.

As you're sandwiched between the two Peters, you feel a mix of emotions. The doppelganger's rough hands explore your body, making you shiver with anticipation. He whispers dirty talk in your ear, his hot breath sending tingles down your spine. "You're so beautiful, I want to devour you whole," he growls. "I want to make you scream with pleasure."

Meanwhile, the real Peter Parker is gentle and kind, his hands caressing your skin with reverence. He praises your beauty, telling you how much he cares for you. "You're amazing," he whispers. "I love the way you make me feel. You're my everything." His words make your heart skip a beat.

You feel torn between the two Peters. The doppelganger's roughness is exhilarating, making you feel alive and desired. But the real Peter's kindness makes you feel safe and loved, like you're home.

As they continue to touch and caress you, you start to lose yourself in the sensation. The doppelganger's rough fingers dig into your skin, while Peter's gentle hands soothe and calm you. You're caught between two opposing forces, each one pulling at your desires and emotions.

The doppelganger leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "You love this, don't you?" he whispers. "You love being fucked by two men at once." His words are crude and raw, but they send a thrill through your body.

Peter's voice is a gentle counterpoint to the doppelganger's roughness. "We'll take care of you," he whispers. "We'll make sure you're comfortable every step of the way." His words are reassuring and comforting, making you feel like everything will be okay.

As the two Peters work together, their opposing forces create a perfect storm of pleasure and emotion. You feel like you're being torn apart and put back together again, all at the same time.

The doppelganger's roughness pushes you to the edge, making you feel alive and desired. But Peter's kindness brings you back from the brink, soothing your fears and calming your doubts.

As you're lost in the pleasure, the doppelganger's voice cuts through the haze, his words crude and raw. "You're a slut, aren't you?" he growls, his lips brushing against your ear. "Taking two cocks at once, like a little whore. You love it, don't you? You love being fucked by two men at the same time."

His words are like a slap in the face, shocking and intense. But instead of being offended, you feel a thrill run through your body. There's something about being called a slut that turns you on, something about being desired and wanted that makes you feel alive.

Peter's voice is softer, more gentle, as if he's trying to counteract the doppelganger's roughness. "Don't listen to him," he whispers. "You're beautiful and amazing, an I love you no matter what." But his words are drowned out by the doppelganger's crude talk.

The doppelganger continues to taunt you, his words dripping with filth and desire. "You're a dirty little slut," he growls. "You love being fucked and used. You're nothing but a toy for us to play with." His words are like fuel for your desires, making you feel hotter and more turned on.

Despite Peter's attempts to calm him down, the doppelganger continues to push your boundaries. He calls you names and talks dirty to you, but instead of being offended, you feel yourself getting more and more turned on.

As the pleasure builds inside you ,you start to lose control ,your body shaking with desire as they holdyou close. The doppelganger's crude talk is like a trigger, releasing all your inhibitions and desires. You're nothing but a vessel for their passion and lust, a receptacle for their filthy talk and dirty desires.

You start to lose yourself in the sensation, letting go of all your inhibitions and worries. You're nothing but a vessel for their passion and desire, a receptacle for their love and lust.

As they continue to touch and caress you, you feel yourself building towards a crescendo. The pleasure is intense, overwhelming, and all-consuming. You're not sure how much more you can take, but at the same time, you don't want it to stop.

The doppelganger leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "Come on," he growls. "Let go. Let us take care of you." His words are like a trigger, releasing all your pent-up emotions and desires.

Peter's voice is softer, more gentle. "We've got you," he whispers. "We'll catch you when you fall." His words are reassuring and comforting, making you feel like everything will be okay.

And then it happens - the wave crashes over you, and you come apart in their arms, your body shaking with pleasure as they hold you close.

As the pleasure reaches its peak, both Peters lose control, their bodies tensing up as they prepare to release. The doppelganger's eyes gleam with a fierce intensity as he looks at you, his face twisted in a snarl of desire. Peter's eyes, on the other hand, are filled with love and adoration, his gaze soft and gentle.

Together, they cum inside you, their hot seed filling you up as they groan in unison. The sensation is overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body. You feel like you're drowning in a sea of ecstasy, unable to catch your breath or think straight.

As the last waves of pleasure fade away, you feel yourself going limp, your body exhausted from the intense passion. Peter catches you as you collapse, his arms wrapping around you like a shield. He holds you close, whispering soft words of comfort and reassurance in your ear.

The doppelganger, on the other hand, smirks as he looks at you. He seems to take great pleasure in seeing you passed out from exhaustion, a look of satisfaction on his face. "She can't handle us," he says to Peter, his voice dripping with amusement. "We're too much for her."

Peter shoots him a glance, but says nothing. Instead, he continues to hold you close, cradling your body like a fragile doll. The doppelganger just chuckles and shakes his head, walking away with a confident swagger.

As Peter holds you close, you feel yourself drifting off into unconsciousness, your body exhausted from the intense passion. You know that you’ll never forget this experience, that it will stay with you forever. And as you pass out, you can't help but wonder what other adventures await you with these two men.

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secretaccountlol · 13 days ago

Text

Peter Parker x Reader x Doppelgänger! Peter Parker: The Perfect Peter

WARNINGS: identify theft, SMUT, blood, character death.

MINORS DNI

You weren’t sure when it started.

At first, you thought Peter was just being different lately—more confident, more flirty, more… bold.

Peter Parker had always been your best friend. Smart, kind, a little awkward, but always someone you could count on.

But then, one day, he had started looking at you differently.

Touching your hand longer than necessary.

Leaning in closer than usual.

And the most dangerous part?

You liked it.

You liked the way his voice dropped lower when he whispered to you.

You liked the way his eyes lingered on your lips.

You liked the way your heart pounded every time he smirked at you like he knew something you didn’t.

For months, he kept pushing the boundaries of your friendship.

And eventually… you fell.

You fell for Peter Parker.

But what you didn’t know—what you couldn’t have known—was that the Peter you had fallen for wasn’t the one you had always known.

He was an imposter.

A perfect copy.

A doppelgänger.

And you had no idea.

You had been avoiding it for weeks—telling Peter how you felt.

Not because you were scared.

But because you knew he already felt the same way.

Or at least… you thought you did.

So when you finally decided to take the plunge, to do something about the tension between you, you didn’t hesitate.

It was supposed to be him.

The Peter who flirted with you.

The Peter who made your head spin.

But instead, it was the real one.

And you didn’t realize it until it was too late.

You found him in the lab, standing near the counter, looking at something on his tablet.

Without thinking, without a second of doubt, you stepped forward, grabbed the fabric of his hoodie, and pulled him into a kiss.

A real one.

A bold one.

A this-is-it, let’s-stop-pretending kind of kiss.

For a moment, there was nothing but the warmth of his lips, the softness of the moment—

And then, to your absolute horror—

Peter pulled away.

Eyes wide.

Mouth slightly open.

Confused.

Like he had no idea what had just happened.

Like he hadn’t been the one flirting with you for months.

Your heart stopped.

“…What are you doing?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blinked. “I—I thought—”

He took a small step back. “Y/N, I—I don’t—” He ran a hand through his hair, looking utterly lost. “I didn’t think you saw me like that.”

And just like that, your stomach dropped.

Because you realized, in one mortifying instant—he didn’t feel the same.

You still couldn’t shake the embarrassment of what had happened in the lab.

Kissing Peter—only to have him pull away, confused, like he hadn’t spent months driving you crazy—was a wound that refused to stop stinging.

But when you confronted him later, he had looked at you with knowing eyes, lips twitching in amusement as he cornered you in the hallway.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

You frowned. “You—” Your voice dropped into a hushed whisper. “You acted like you didn’t know what was happening!”

He blinked, head tilting. “Well, I mean… you caught me off guard.”

Your brows furrowed. “But you—” You exhaled sharply. “You’ve been teasing me for weeks, Peter.”

Something flickered in his expression—an almost guilty look—but it disappeared quickly, replaced with a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah, but not in front of them,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “You—uh—you really put me on the spot there, Y/N.”

Your stomach twisted. “So you do feel the same?”

His jaw clenched, as if waging an internal battle. But then, his signature smirk returned, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Would I have spent all this time chasing you if I didn’t?”

And just like that, the tension unraveled.

The doubt disappeared.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your heart pounding from the way he looked at you—like he was letting his guard down, just for you.

You had been overthinking it.

He hadn’t rejected you.

He had just gotten flustered.

Everything was fine.

Everything was perfect.

And you never once stopped to question why something still felt off.

Never once wondered if the Peter Parker standing in front of you was the same one you had always known.

Because, as far as you were concerned…

He was.

And that was all that mattered.

You never thought Peter Parker would be the type to want a secret relationship.

But when he pulled you aside one night, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “Let’s keep this just between us for now,” it had sent a thrill through you.

He had given you that boyish, lopsided smirk, his fingers tangling with yours as he added, “I just don’t like PDA, sweetheart. It’s better this way.”

And you hadn’t questioned it.

Not when he still snuck into your room late at night, whispering sweet nothings against your skin.

Not when he still kissed you like you were the only thing keeping him breathing.

Not when he still looked at you like he had won the greatest prize in the world.

So you kept it a secret.

You kept your distance in public.

You avoided lingering touches.

You stopped reacting when Peter Parker was around other people.

Because you knew he didn’t want anyone to know.

Because you trusted him.

And you never once thought to question why.

When Peter pulled you aside one evening, there was something different in his eyes—something unsure, something hesitant.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said.

Your brows furrowed. “What? No, I haven’t.”

His jaw clenched. “Then what was that in the lab?”

Your stomach twisted. “Peter, I told you—it wasn’t what you think.”

“That’s the problem,” he said, voice low. “I don’t know what to think.”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”

Peter exhaled, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “I feel like I’m losing you, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched.

Losing you?

How could he say that when he had you—when he kissed you, when he held you, when he—

“I don’t want that,” he continued, his voice softer now. “I don’t want to lose you. I just… I feel like we don’t talk anymore. I miss you.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest.

But confusion lingered in your mind, pressing against your ribs like an aching weight.

“I—” You hesitated. “Peter… we do talk. We’re together all the time.”

Peter froze.

His eyes flickered with something unreadable before he let out a quiet, stunned laugh.

“What?”

You blinked. “Peter, what’s going on with you? We’ve been dating—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence before his expression dropped.

Like you had just spoken in a language he didn’t understand.

Like you had grown two heads.

“We’ve been what?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stared at him, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest.

“…Dating?”

His entire body went still.

Your mouth felt dry. “Peter… we’ve been together. For weeks. Are you messing with me?”

Peter swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Y/N,” he said carefully, slowly, “we’ve never dated.”

Your stomach dropped.

“That’s not funny, Peter,” you whispered.

He took a step forward, his expression serious, his brown eyes searching yours. “I’m not joking.”

You shook your head. “No. That doesn’t make any sense. You—” You inhaled sharply, your mind racing. “It’s like you’re two different people sometimes—”

Peter’s breath hitched.

And suddenly, everything shifted.

His expression morphed into something unreadable.

His hands curled into fists.

And when he spoke again, his voice was laced with something dark, something fearful.

“…What do you mean by that?”

Peter’s heart pounded in his chest.

“What do you mean by that?” he asked, his voice quieter now—more cautious.

You hesitated. “I don’t know. It’s just… sometimes you act different. Like you’re two people.”

His throat tightened.

His mind raced.

Two people.

That didn’t make sense. That couldn’t make sense.

But your words rattled inside his skull, sinking into the cracks of his confusion, settling into something terrifyingly real.

His grip on reality wavered as a horrifying thought crept into his mind.

What if… What if he wasn’t imagining things?

What if the reason you had been avoiding him… Was because you thought you were already with him? His pulse roared in his ears.

“Y/N,” he said, forcing himself to stay calm, “tell me exactly what you mean.”

You frowned, clearly growing frustrated. “I don’t know, Peter! It’s like… sometimes you’re different. Sometimes you’re distant, like you don’t even know me, and then other times you’re so—” You cut yourself off, shaking your head. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like there are two versions of you.”

Peter swallowed hard. There were two versions of him. But that should have been impossible.

And yet— You had been kissing someone who looked like him. You had been dating someone who acted like him. And Peter—the real Peter—had no idea who the hell it was.

A heavy weight settled in his stomach. Something was very, very wrong.

“Y/N,” he said slowly, carefully, “when did we start dating?”

You gave him an incredulous look. “You seriously don’t remember?”

“Just… tell me,” he pressed, his fingers tightening into fists.

You sighed. “A few weeks ago. It just… happened.”

Peter’s blood ran cold. A few weeks ago. A few weeks ago, when he had sworn he felt like someone was watching him.

A few weeks ago, when things in his room had felt slightly off. A few weeks ago, when you had started pulling away.

His mind whirled with fragmented memories, with moments that suddenly didn’t feel like coincidences anymore.

Someone had taken his place. Someone had taken you. And no one had noticed. Not even you.

Peter inhaled sharply.

“Tell me more about him.”

It was late when you returned to your room after a long, exhausting day. The Tower had been on edge ever since the events with the doppelgänger Peter, but no one could fully explain why it still felt… wrong. You tried to ignore it, to pretend like everything was okay, but you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something wasn’t right.

As you entered your room, you noticed the dim light of a lamp flickering. You hadn’t left it on, but you didn’t think much of it. What caught your attention was the figure sitting on your bed, legs crossed casually, leaning against the headboard. Peter—well, the other Peter—was waiting for you, the same soft, confident smile on his face.

“Hey,” he said casually, voice low and smooth, the kind of tone that always seemed to ease any tension around him. “I knew you’d be coming back soon.”

You blinked at him, a little surprised. “What are you doing here?”

He chuckled, not fazed in the least by your confusion. “Just waiting for you. You’ve been on my mind, you know?”

You hesitated. It had become increasingly difficult to ignore how much attention he was giving you, how much he seemed to care. But there was something off about it. Still, when he looked at you with those soft, familiar eyes, you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away. He was Peter, after all—just… different.

“You’ve been waiting for me?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For this,” he said, his grin widening just a little. He patted the bed beside him, motioning for you to sit. “You’ve been avoiding me lately. I thought I’d take the chance to finally talk to you.”

You lingered near the door, crossing your arms over your chest. You hadn’t told anyone about the lingering feeling you’d had since that kiss—how something about Peter’s behavior felt off. But you also weren’t sure if it was just your mind playing tricks on you, or if the doppelgänger had left you questioning your own perception of reality.

“You know,” he continued, his voice dropping to a more playful tone, “I was thinking about our… little moment the other day.”

You froze for a moment, confused by his words. “Moment?”

“The kiss,” he clarified, his smile softening into something more intimate. “It was nice, wasn’t it?”

Your heart raced, an unsettling feeling spreading through your chest. You had kissed Peter that night, hadn’t you? But… you weren’t sure which Peter it had been. The idea that it could’ve been the fake one filled you with unease, though you tried not to let it show. He was acting as if everything was perfectly normal, as if you should’ve known it was him all along. And you… you couldn’t be sure anymore.

“It was…,” you began slowly, unsure of how to answer. “It was fine. But I don’t think we should…”

“Don’t think we should what?” he interrupted, his voice dripping with a playful edge. “It’s not like it was a mistake. You felt something, I know you did. I felt it too.”

His words made your pulse spike. You had felt something, hadn’t you? There was a comfort in the way he made you feel at ease, in the way he always seemed to know exactly what to say. You couldn’t deny that. But there was a nagging feeling, deep down, that you were missing something—something important.

“Look, Peter,” you said, trying to keep the tension in your voice from showing, “I think we should slow down. I’m still not sure what’s going on with everything.”

He didn’t take offense to your words. In fact, he only leaned forward a little, tilting his head as he looked at you with such intensity it made your breath catch.

“I understand,” he said, his tone softening. “I know things are weird right now. But I’m here for you. Whenever you’re ready.”

You swallowed, the weight of the situation pressing on your chest. There was something intoxicating about the way he looked at you, how he always made you feel like you were the only person in the room. You did feel something for him. You couldn’t deny it, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise.

And maybe that was why you didn’t pull away when he reached out to touch your hand. His fingers brushed against yours, and for a moment, it was like time slowed down. His touch was warm, and you couldn’t bring yourself to let go.

“Peter, I—”

“It’s okay,” he whispered, cutting you off as his thumb ran across your knuckles. “You don’t have to say anything right now. I just wanted you to know that I care about you.”

Your heart raced in your chest. You felt the pull toward him—no, toward Peter. But was it the real Peter? Or was it the one who had been playing a role in your life all along?

But before you could think it through, his face softened, his eyes searching yours. “It’s alright. You don’t have to answer me now.” He pulled back slightly, letting the moment linger. “But I want you to know, whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

Your eyes fluttered as you felt yourself drawn in, caught in the haze of his presence. His words hung in the air like a promise, one you weren’t sure you were ready to make.

“I’ll… think about it,” you murmured, though you weren’t sure you believed yourself. He held onto your waist, pulling you down on his lap. “You know you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen?”

“Peter!” You gasped when his hands went under your shirt, unclasping your bra lazily. “What?” He asks innocently, his brown eyes, why did they look more black than brown? “I..I mean— we haven’t, uh, I haven’t um… done this before..” you said shyly, gripping the end of your shirt, he smiles, “it’s okay, baby, let me take care of you.” He takes off your shirt, letting it and your bra drop off the bed. He eyes your reaction, how you averted your eyes from him, “look at me baby, I wanna see your pretty face” you do as he said, and he traps you in a kiss.

He slips off your shorts, leaving you bare before him. He flipped you over, taking in the beauty of your body. “You drive me crazy, Y/N.” he stripped off his own clothes, leaning down to kiss you again. His hands playing with your body, pumping one hand in your warmth, while the other gripped at your breast. Pinching and playing with your nipple. He kisses your neck and you squeeze your legs around his hips, “Peter..!”

He pulled his fingers after you came, panting heavily. “You did so well, baby” he sucks on your neck. “but I need more,”

You gasped as he entered your pussy, your virgin walls stretching to accommodate his size. He was slow and you almost saw his eyes go black— was your eyes playing tricks on you? You tried not to focus on it as he continued to snap his hips into yours. You squeezed around him, you came numerous times. His grip on your thighs was bruising. You could feel yourself on the verge of passing out from exhaustion, his face, his eyes, were pitch black.

It was the last thing you saw before you passed out.

Peter’s hands trembled as he turned the knob to your bedroom door.

Something deep in his gut told him he shouldn’t be here.

That he shouldn’t have to be here.

Because you should have known.

You should have realized.

But as he pushed the door open, his entire body locked up—because there, tangled in your sheets, was him.

Or at least—the thing pretending to be him.

And you.

Laying against him.

Your fingers resting gently against his chest, your breath slow and even.

And him—His imposter—His thief—Sitting there playing with your hair.

Casually.

Like he belonged there.

Peter’s stomach lurched.

His breathing turned shallow.

Because now, up close—now that he wasn’t blinded by his own disbelief—he saw it.

The subtle differences.

The slightly too-sharp grin.

The way his head tilted just a bit too far.

The way his fingers lingered against you, possessive and unyielding.

It wasn’t him.

And he had touched you, and you let it. Blissfully unaware of the monster you let in your bed.

Peter’s chest heaved.

And before he could stop himself, he stepped forward. “Get away from her.”

The doppelgänger froze.

Then, slowly—lazily—he turned his head.

And smiled.

“You’re late,” he murmured.

Peter felt something hot—something dangerous—curl inside him. “Get. Away. From her.”

The thing in your bed only chuckled.

And then—It hissed.

Low and guttural, its lips peeling back like an animal, revealing teeth that were too sharp—too unnatural.

Peter barely had time to react before it lunged.

You woke to the sound of yelling.

At first, it was distant—like a dream.

Then— A crash. A snarl.

Your eyes shot open, your heart pounding.

And what you saw—Made your stomach drop.

Two Peters.

Fighting.

No—Not fighting.

One was attacking, wild and animalistic—its skin darkening, its nails lengthening into claws.

Your breath hitched. “Peter—”

Your voice barely left your throat before you saw the bruises on your thighs—before you felt the soreness against your skin.

Your stomach twisted.

This morning. The kisses. The hands trailing over your body. The marks left behind.

Your blood ran cold.

Your entire world tilted.

“Get away from him!”

You barely knew what you were doing before you grabbed the nearest thing—a heavy trophy off the shelf—and swung.

CRACK.

The thing wearing Peter’s face staggered. Its head was dented in, bleeding black goo.

And in an instant—The real Peter was in front of you, chest heaving, arms spread protectively.

You stared at him—your mind struggling, fighting to keep up— And then your eyes drifted. To the monster on the floor. To the thing that had kissed you. That had touched you.

That had lied to you.

Even as its face bled, even as its skin turned black, even as it healed before your eyes.

It grinned.

Like it knew something you didn’t.

Peter stiffened in front of you, his muscles locked with tension, his web-shooters ready.

And for the first time— You realized—You had been in love with a monster.

Peter could feel the weight of the silence between you both. The tension in the room was suffocating, the air thick with unspoken words and things that neither of you were ready to admit—yet.

He looked at you—his eyes full of concern, full of guilt, his heart aching for you. But more than that, he was terrified. Terrified that this wasn’t just a momentary horror. Terrified that the monster wasn’t gone for good.

Peter’s voice broke the silence first. “I don’t understand. How did he—how did he get so close to you without me noticing?”

Your gaze flitted away from him for a moment, a mix of confusion and exhaustion settling on your features. “I—I don’t know. I didn’t see it. I thought it was just…”

“Just what?” Peter interjected, his tone sharp with frustration, his hands fidgeting at his sides as if he wanted to hold you—comfort you—but was afraid he might make everything worse. “You thought it was me, didn’t you?”

You hesitated before nodding, feeling your stomach twist with the shame that followed. “I didn’t know, Peter. You were different at times, but I—I thought I was just imagining it. Maybe it was… I don’t know. Stress, or something. It didn’t seem like it was anything serious.”

Peter stepped closer to you, his jaw clenched, his fists tightening. “That’s the thing…”

You looked up at him, your voice almost a whisper. “I didn’t know until it was too late.”

He could see the brokenness in your eyes, the shame, the betrayal. He reached out, but stopped when he saw the hickeys on your neck, the bruises on your thighs. His chest tightened.

“I should’ve known,” Peter murmured. “I should’ve noticed sooner. But I was so stupid—so blind.”

You shook your head, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “No. It wasn’t your fault. He’s… good at what he does. He’s been watching you, pretending to be you for weeks, hasn’t he?”

Peter’s eyes flickered with realization. “Yeah…”

You were silent for a moment, your gaze distant. “But what if it was always him? What if everything we’ve done, everything we’ve shared… was never real?”

“It’s not your fault!” He said softly, his voice cracking as he touched your shoulder.

“I know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “But it doesn’t stop the fact that I let him in. That I let him touch me. That I…”

“You didn’t know,” Peter interrupted, taking a step forward and gently grabbing your hands. “You didn’t know. And I’m not going to blame you for it. We’ll figure this out. Together.”

You glanced up at him, and for a brief second, you thought you saw the flicker of hope in his eyes. But it was fleeting, just like everything else in this twisted mess.

“How do we fix this?” you asked, barely able to keep the tears at bay. “How do we… get him out of our lives?”

Peter didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at the door, as if expecting it to burst open any moment. His mind was racing. He knew what needed to be done, but the question remained: Where do we start?

The air was tense as Peter paced back and forth in the living room. You stood by the window, looking out into the darkened streets below, as if expecting the doppelgänger to emerge from the shadows once more.

“I need to know everything,” Peter said, his voice heavy. “What happened when you were alone with him?”

You turned toward him, looking down at your hands for a moment, trying to piece together everything you could remember. “I don’t know how he does it. He’s so much like you, Peter. I never—”

“What exactly do you mean?”

“I mean that he looked like you. He sounded like you. He was you.”

Peter ran a hand through his hair, trying to fight the knot of frustration in his throat. “I mean the way he’s been acting, the way he’s been… pretending to be me. He can’t just… blend in like this without some kind of plan. He’s not just mimicking me—he’s changing things. He’s becoming me.”

You nodded slowly, your voice barely a whisper. “It’s like he knows everything. About us. About you. He knew the way you moved, the way you smiled at me—everything. And he used it. He used it all to get close to me. To trick me.”

Peter shook his head. “We’re not going to let him get away with it. We need to figure out where he came from, how he’s been doing this, and stop him before anyone else gets hurt.”

You looked at him, fear still lingering in your chest. “But what if it’s too late? What if he’s already…”

“It’s not too late,” Peter cut in, his voice firm. “We can fix this. I’ll fix this. I’ll make sure nothing like this happens again. I swear it.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

And now—together—you would take the fight to him.

The night after the confrontation with the doppelgänger, Peter and you were still processing everything that had happened. The monster had vanished, but the reality of what was going on was far from over. The fear in your chest had not yet subsided, and the questions kept gnawing at you.

You had to make sure no one else was at risk, and you knew the only way to do that was to go to the Avengers.

But you weren’t ready for what was about to unfold at the Tower.

The fake Peter—the doppelgänger—had been to the Avengers’ Tower long before you and the real Peter even considered walking through those doors. His version of events was already set. He had arrived earlier, walking into the Tower with the calm, composed air of someone who believed they were in control.

“I’m telling you, something’s wrong,” the fake Peter explained, as he paced in front of the Avengers, his face an exaggerated mirror of the real Peter’s. “Y/N… she attacked me. I tried to explain things to her, but she doesn’t seem to care. She keeps saying I’m the ‘fake’ one, that something’s wrong with me. And now, she’s with… another Peter. This impostor…” His voice broke, the fake hurt on his face so convincing it almost felt real. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I need your help.”

The Avengers listened, some furrowing their brows, others eyeing each other, unsure what to believe.

Tony was watching the fake Peter with an intensity that the others weren’t. Tony Stark didn’t trust easy, and something about this whole situation just didn’t sit right.

“Okay,” Tony said, his tone skeptical. “Before we make any moves, we need both sides of the story. I don’t want to be the one jumping to conclusions. I’m bringing them in.”

The fake Peter, who was already so sure of himself, visibly relaxed when Tony called for the other side. He had already woven his tale, and all he had to do now was sit back and wait for the real Peter and you to walk into the lion’s den.

Meanwhile, you and Peter had spent the last few minutes trying to figure out what your next move was. Peter’s protective side was still in overdrive, but you could see the uncertainty in his eyes. Both of you knew the Tower was the safest place to figure this out, but there was no telling how the Avengers would react.

As you both reached the entrance, Peter pulled you aside, his hand gently gripping your arm. “Are you sure about this?”

You nodded, giving him a determined look. “We can’t keep hiding. If we want to stop this, we need to do it now. We need to tell them the truth.”

Peter hesitated, but he knew you were right. He took a deep breath and opened the door. The moment the two of you entered, the Avengers were already waiting for you.

“Well, well, look who’s here,” Tony remarked, raising an eyebrow. “Glad you could join us. We’ve been having a rather… enlightening conversation with your doppelgänger.”

Peter’s stomach sank. He could tell by the way Tony was looking at him, that there was already a mistrust in the air.

“Wait, you believe him?” Peter asked, his voice growing sharp. “I’m the real Peter! He’s the one who’s been pretending to be me, lying to all of you!”

The Avengers exchanged uncertain glances. Clint, Black Widow, and even Thor seemed confused, unsure of who was telling the truth.

“Hold up,” Tony said, raising a hand, cutting through the noise. “We don’t need anyone shouting. Let’s just… take a minute. I want to hear both sides.” He turned to the fake Peter. “You said she attacked you? Tell me more about that.”

The fake Peter nodded earnestly, as though Tony’s support had given him new confidence. “Yes, Tony. I don’t know what’s happening, but Y/N… she thought I wasn’t me. She accused me of being a fake. She said I was someone else, and when I tried to explain, she… she attacked me.”

His voice cracked just enough for the others to exchange sympathetic looks. It was a convincing act, but Tony’s eyes were narrowed. He wasn’t buying it.

“And what about you?” Tony asked, turning to Peter. “What’s your side of this?”

Peter, trying his best to remain calm, gestured to you. “She’s been manipulated. He’s been pretending to be me for weeks, using everything he knows about me to get close to her. I don’t know how he’s doing it, but he’s tricked everyone into thinking he’s the real Peter.”

The room fell silent, the Avengers looking back and forth between the two Peters, confusion clouding their faces.

Then, Tony did something no one expected. He gave a slight smirk, and in one swift motion, he pulled out a small device from his pocket—a small, handheld scanner that would detect genetic differences. It was a last-ditch effort to confirm who was who. Tony activated it and held it up to both Peters.

The results were immediate and undeniable.

The device buzzed, then flashed red when held up to the fake Peter.

“Whoops,” Tony muttered, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Guess that’s our cue.”

The Avengers blinked in disbelief, staring at the fake Peter, whose smile faltered as he realized what was happening.

“Wait, no!” The fake Peter hissed, his expression turning dark, his features twisting in fury. “This is a mistake! I am the real Peter! I am!”

Before anyone could react, the fake Peter’s body shifted. His skin started to ripple, changing rapidly, darkening in color, his eyes flashing a sickly yellow. The monstrous form emerged again, like a twisted version of the real Peter, his body disfigured and monstrous, a far cry from the boy you had fallen in love with.

The Avengers took a step back, immediately reaching for their weapons. But the real Peter moved faster. He shoved you behind him, positioning himself protectively.

“Stay behind me,” he ordered, his voice fierce.

The creature—the imposter—let out an inhuman screech, its claws elongating, and it charged at Peter, knocking him to the floor. The Avengers were quick to react, but the fight quickly descended into chaos.

Tony activated his suit’s repulsor beams, sending blasts toward the creature, while Thor summoned lightning, striking the doppelgänger with full force. Black Widow and Clint worked in tandem, trying to subdue the beast, but it was fast—faster than anyone had anticipated.

You stood back, your heart pounding in your chest, watching the battle unfold before your eyes. This wasn’t just a fight for survival—it was a fight for the truth. And in that moment, you realized just how much you still needed to protect Peter. The real Peter.

With a final, powerful blow, Tony’s suit blasted the creature back, sending it flying across the room. It hissed in anger, but the damage had been done.

The creature was weak, cornered.

Peter, breathing heavily, stood up and webbed the creature to the wall. “This ends now,” he said, his voice steady despite the chaos around him.

The fake Peter looked at you, his distorted face contorted with rage. “You can’t just lock me up, Parker. You don’t know what I am.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “I know exactly what you are. And I won’t let you hurt anyone else.”

The fake Peter’s skin began to darken again, but this time, it didn’t heal. Tony, with his suit fully powered up, fired another blast, sending the creature unconscious, his body slumping to the ground.

The Avengers stood still, taking in the chaos of the last few minutes. The truth had come out. The real Peter Parker had just saved everyone. But the damage was done.

“Good work, everyone,” Tony said, his voice softer than usual, almost a whisper. “But there’s still a lot to clean up.”

Peter stepped forward, his face serious. “This isn’t over. We need to figure out where it came from… and how many more there are.”

And with that, the battle was won—but the war against the doppelgängers had only just begun.

The battle was over, and the fake Peter was contained. The Avengers had quickly organized a secure location to keep the doppelgänger locked away, far from anyone else. But while the physical fight had ended, Peter could feel the weight of the emotional turmoil pressing down on him.

You had been through so much in such a short amount of time, and he wasn’t about to let you suffer the consequences without taking every precaution.

“Hey,” Peter said, his voice low and gentle as he turned to you, still standing at the edge of the room, visibly shaken but trying to hold it together. His hand was on your arm, but it wasn’t a simple gesture of reassurance—it was the protective grip of someone who would do anything to keep you safe. “You need to get checked out. We have no idea what kind of exposure you had to him. Who knows what that thing did to you?”

You froze at his words, the weight of what he was suggesting suddenly hitting you. A part of you wanted to argue that you were fine, that it was over now, but the other part—the part that knew Peter was right—made you nod in agreement.

“I’m fine, Peter, really,” you started, but you could see the worry on his face, his brows furrowed with concern. His eyes were dark with guilt, and you could tell that no matter what you said, he wouldn’t back down until you agreed.

“No, you’re not fine,” Peter insisted, his voice tight. “He touched you. He was in your bed. We don’t know what… how he was messing with your biology, your—”

“I get it,” you interrupted gently, your hand coming to rest on his arm, hoping to soothe him. “I’ll go to the med bay. But only because I know you’re going to bug me about it until I do.”

A small, almost relieved smile tugged at his lips, and you felt a strange sense of comfort in the way he looked at you. It was the same look he always gave you—gentle and full of trust, but now with a deeper sense of urgency. He was genuinely worried about you.

“I’ll go with you,” he added quickly. “I’m not letting you out of my sight, not after… all of this.”

The Avengers had already organized a trip to their medical bay, and within moments, you found yourself walking down the sterile, white halls of the Tower. You could hear the soft hum of machines and the clicking of footsteps echoing in the corridor.

Tony had insisted on keeping you away from the doppelgänger’s containment, as much for your safety as for his own team’s peace of mind. You couldn’t help but feel grateful for his support, though part of you felt like you had just been through a dream—a strange, nightmarish situation that you couldn’t fully wrap your mind around.

Peter kept close by your side as you entered the medical bay. He was quiet, the edges of his usual wit and sarcasm gone. It was as though this had shaken him in ways that words couldn’t express.

Dr. Banner was already there, waiting for you with a clipboard and a soft smile, though you could tell he, too, had been affected by the events of the night.

“Alright, Y/N,” he began, motioning for you to sit on the examination table. “We just need to run a few tests. Given the circumstances… it’s better to be safe than sorry.” His voice was calm, reassuring, though you could sense his own concern for what you’d been through.

Peter stood by the door, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His eyes never left you, watching your every move as though he couldn’t bear to look away for even a second.

“It won’t take long,” Dr. Banner continued. “We’re just going to run a few scans, make sure everything checks out. No need to worry.”

You gave a small nod, trying to calm your nerves. As Dr. Banner began the scans, Peter moved closer, still watching, though his usual playful demeanor was absent. His voice was low as he finally spoke, his words barely a whisper.

“You’re okay, right?”

You smiled faintly, glancing up at him. “I’m fine, Peter. Really. This… this doesn’t feel real, but I’m fine. I’m with you, and I’m going to be okay.”

He didn’t respond right away, but the relief in his eyes was palpable. He wanted to believe it. He needed to.

After a few minutes, Dr. Banner finished the scans and reviewed the results with a careful eye. He looked at you with a warm smile. “Everything looks normal. No signs of anything… strange.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, your shoulders loosening from the tension you hadn’t realized you were holding. “So, I’m not infected by any weird alien parasites or anything?”

Dr. Banner chuckled softly, though his expression remained professional. “No parasites. No weird side effects. Just a little shaken up, I’m guessing?”

You nodded, feeling lighter. “Yeah, something like that.”

Peter finally exhaled, the tension visibly leaving his body. He smiled, but it was a quiet one—relieved, but still concerned. “I told you,” he said gently, walking over to you and taking your hand in his. “I just… I had to be sure. I couldn’t lose you, Y/N.”

You squeezed his hand, smiling up at him. “I’m right here,” you said softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

As you left the med bay, Peter walked alongside you, his hand still holding yours tightly. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you now—what had happened, the danger you’d both been in, and the strength you’d drawn from each other.

“You know,” Peter began, breaking the silence with a quiet, almost teasing tone. “I may have saved the day, but I think you’ve got a lot more strength than I give you credit for.”

You chuckled softly, leaning your shoulder against his as you walked. “You’re not getting away with that one, Parker. I’m the one who helped knock out the fake you, remember?”

Peter grinned at that, the spark of his usual charm returning in full force. “Yeah, I guess you did. But I still think I deserve a little credit.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’ll give you credit… but only because you’re cute when you’re protective.”

Peter beamed, his hand squeezing yours. “Well, I’d be more than happy to keep being protective if it means getting a compliment from you.”

As the two of you headed back to the common area, it was clear that while the fight against the doppelgänger was far from over, you had both come out stronger. The fear and uncertainty remained, but so did the bond between you and Peter.

And maybe, just maybe, things could start to feel a little more normal again—starting with the small moments that you both cherished.

Even with the dark days ahead.

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secretaccountlol · 19 days ago

Text

Unrequited. [Part 6]

Pairing: Andrew! Peter Parker x Fem!Reader; Mentions of past Gwen Stacy x Andrew! Peter Parker; Mentions of Mary Jane Watson x Fem!Reader. Warnings: Swearing, betrayal (kinda). Summary: Night patrol after dinner, hero fight. A/N: I know, it's been a while. But hey, I'm a professional now; just graduated college.

PREVIOUS PART.

Chapter 5: Nightly routine.

You didn't know Peter was Spider-Man and despite living with you for seven years, Peter had made inhuman efforts to keep you out of it. He'd let you think anything that filled the blanks; that he was a womanizer, a lovesick puppy, an incredibly dedicated student, a workaholic, a freak or all of the above at the same time, but never Spider-Man.

He'd started to make some really good excuses and you weren't home most of the time, so it wasn't that difficult to keep it hidden... But seeing Gwen starting to get drunk and blurting some anecdotes of their relationship was walking on thin ice.

At some point during the night, you had stood up to go to the bathroom and Peter took that moment to look at his ex in the eyes and tell her, "She doesn't know."

Gwen frowned, raising an accusatory finger that made him feel like shit. He knew that during the whole night, you had his back. You spoke of his achievements, held his hand when Gwen spoke to her husband on the phone, and opened up about the girl you had been talking to recently, just to keep Gwen out of asking about his love life.

This felt like like the worst type of betrayal.

"You need to tell her, Peter."

Gwen had seemed to sober up at his confession, and he frowned.

"She can't know, Gwen" he insisted, taking the dishes into the kitchen to wash them, "I can't put her in danger, not like I did with you."

The blonde crossed her arms, looking cautiously at the still closed bathroom door, "You're already putting her in danger, Peter. She's been living with you for seven years."

He shrugged in his place. He was cautious.

"Peter, it's not about her putting herself in danger anymore" she stated firmly, following the gaze that was actively avoiding her, "It's about someone finding out it's you and coming after her. She has to be warned."

"And what about you, huh?" he answered lowly, "No one's come after you."

"I'm barely in your life, Peter" Gwen said in a soft tone. She noticed how his eyes traveled from her eyes to her lips and then, slowly, descended to the dishes in his hands "She lives with you, she deserves the heads up."

Peter nodded. They heard something you said, neither actually caring but nodding and smiling your way either way. And Gwen called it a night.

"I'm sorry to leave like this," she'd said sweetly, "But my mother actually expects me to come back, so I need to do it before I'm in no state to go back home!"

She gave Peter a look and took her phone out to ask for an Uber.

When she left, you gave him a bright smile, "That went well!" and you walked towards the kitchen to check, "Oh, you washed the dishes? I was going to do that..."

Peter shrugged. You sat on the counter, swinging your legs, "Should we do something? We could watch that one movie you've been wanting to...!"

A loud crash was heard on the street.

"Jesus..." you let out, hopping off the counter and giving a few lazy steps towards their balcony, "Peter, a car just crashed into the restaurant downstairs..." You turned to face your roommate. He was nowhere to be seen, "Peter?"

The bathroom door shut closed, you sighed and poured a bit more wine in your glass to settle on the couch.

Peter left then. He tiptoed across the hallway and made his way to his room silently, sneaking out his window and into the city. He heard the ambulance arriving to the scene and tried to figure out the reason behind the accident.

It didn't take much, however, his spider sense warning him about a very near threat and he was already avoiding the car thrown in his direction, able to cushion it's collision with the web thrown it's way. A family was inside.

He looked back.

"Out already, Aleksei?"

In response, a low, guttural growl, echoed in the damp night air. His massive figure loomed over the wreckage, the remnants of the other car twisted like discarded tin and the harmed couple had already been extracted by a few bystanders.

Peter knew he was gonna have to distract this idiot for the ambulance to take them safely.

"Well, this is just great," he muttered loud enough for him to hear, adjusting his mask. "A family outing, a near-death experience, and now I've got a really angry rhino on my hands. Just another Saturday night in the Big Apple."

Rhino charged towards him then, the ground shaking and he could hear the civilians let out a horrified gasp. Spider-Man, however, met him head-on, his body taut with anticipation.

"Alright, big guy, let's dance!" he yelled, shooting out a webline to anchor himself to a lamppost. With a playful grin, he leaped, aiming a swift kick at Rhino's armored leg. "How's that for a warm-up?"

The massive villain swung a haymaker, sending a shockwave through the air. The family inside the car let out a scream, but Spider-Man dodged with acrobatic ease, his spider-sense tingling with the impending impact. He turned towards them, reaching to take them out.

He was yanked away.

"You know," he teased, "For a guy in a rhino suit, you're surprisingly graceful."

The rest of the fight was draining. It wasn't because he punched hard and was stubborn, no. It was because the people in New York never seemed to learn that they weren't supposed to linger around a superhero fight, specially when they have all the chances to escape, so he had to work twice as hard to keep Rhino from harming any civilians.

With a satisfied hum, Spider-Man dusted himself off. He knew he should probably go back home to check in on you, so you wouldn't think he was taking the shit of his life, but after a quick glimpse at their window and catching your head thrown back, asleep, he understood he may as well patrol around for a little longer.

That decision was the turning point, however, because stopping a robbery may be a common thing for him; but encountering a beautiful, charming woman and having to walk her home, on a beautiful dark evening, accompanied by a cheerful, endearing conversation, was not.

TAGLIST: @marcspectorondeeznuts @slutfortheblog @chaoticaptendyte @thecannibalkiller @darious @m3iami @trasshy-artist let me know if you want in or out of the taglist<3

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secretaccountlol · 2 months ago

Note

omgomg we def need more virgin sub peter parker!! u ate that last one UPPPPP

❥Pairing: Peter Parker x AFAB!reader

❥CW: smut, unprotected p in v, loss of virginity, drinking, sorta sub!peter, riding, dry humping, 3.7k words

❥Summary: After Peter drunkenly confesses his lack of experience, you offer to give him some practice.

❥a/n: Thank you so much for your request!! I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to this, I just had a really long fic idea and took way too long to execute it lol. I hope you like what I wrote! <3

You and Peter were sitting cross-legged on the floor of your apartment, a half-empty bottle of tequila between you, laughing over ridiculous stories from your past. You swirled your drink in your glass, a smirk tugging at your lips as you recalled a disastrous first date you had once been on. “I swear, he couldn’t keep his hands still the entire time—like he was auditioning for a role in The Bachelor or something,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I think he might’ve been more nervous than me. Have you ever had a first date like that?”

Peter froze for a moment, his fingers nervously tapping on his bottle before he looked up at you, cheeks flushed. “Uh, no… I’ve never really had… a first date,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “Or, well… any kind of date.”

You down what's left in your glass before returning your attention to him. “Okay but you've had like–a hookup before, right?” you question, words slightly slurred by the alcohol in your system.

Peter’s face turns bright red as he looks to the ground, hand scratching the back of his neck. “Uh–I-I mean…well I–”

“Oh my god,” you interrupt, shock evident in your voice. “Peter Parker, do you mean to tell me you're a virgin?” Peter’s cheeks glow impossibly redder, eyes meeting yours for a split second before returning to the floor, an embarrassed laugh leaving his lips.

“You are!” you grin, leaning in slightly, unable to hide the teasing edge in your voice. “I can't believe it. The Spider-Man, the guy who saves the city, has never even been on a date? Let alone hooked up with anyone? Have you ever kissed anyone?” You watch him squirm and shake his head in shame under your gaze, feeling a strange mix of amusement and…something else you can't quite place.

Peter’s eyes flicker to you, then away again, his fingers still fidgeting with the bottle. “I mean… it’s not that big of a deal, right? I’m just… kinda busy with other stuff, I guess.” His voice is barely above a whisper, the tension in his shoulders giving away how uncomfortable he is with the conversation.

“You poor baby,” you pout, leaning in just a little closer, your voice softening, but the teasing lilt still very much there. “Well, have you ever wanted to?”

Peter’s eyes snap to yours, wide and startled, his blush deepening as he stumbles over his words. “I-I mean, yeah, of course I’ve—uh—wanted to,” he mumbles, voice cracking slightly. “I’m not a robot or anything…” He laughs nervously, but it’s clear the question caught him completely off guard.

“Interesting,” you hum, letting the word hang in the air as you lean back slightly, swirling the tequila in your glass. “What stopped you?”

Peter hesitates, his fingers still nervously toying with the label on the tequila bottle. “I don’t know… it’s not like I’ve had a lot of chances,” he admits, his voice quiet but tinged with self-deprecation. “And when I have… I guess I just overthink everything. Like, what if I mess it up? Or what if it’s weird?” He shrugs, finally glancing up at you, his expression both sheepish and vulnerable. “It’s easier to just, you know, not try.”

You narrow your eyes at him, setting your glass down with a soft clink. “Peter,” you say slowly, a teasing grin creeping onto your lips, “are you seriously telling me you’ve never even tried to make a move on someone? No crushes? No late-night make-out sessions? Nothing?”

His blush deepens, and he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh, come on, don’t make me feel worse about it,” he mutters, though there’s no real anger in his voice—just that endearing awkwardness that makes it impossible not to smile.

“Well,” you say, leaning forward again, elbows resting on your knees as you study him with playful intent, “sounds to me like you just need someone to, I don’t know… help you get out of your head.” Your voice is lighter, teasing, but the shift in his expression—the slight parting of his lips, the way his gaze flickers nervously to your mouth—sends a thrill through you.

“W-What do you mean by that?” Peter stammers, his voice breaking slightly as his grip tightens on the bottle, his wide eyes locked on yours.

You tilt your head, feigning innocence as you tap your finger against your chin. “I mean, maybe you just need a little practice,” you say, your voice smooth and teasing. “Someone to show you the ropes, take the pressure off, you know?”

Peter chokes on a breath, nearly dropping the bottle in his hands as his cheeks somehow burn even brighter. “P-Practice?” he squeaks, his wide-eyed gaze darting to your face like he’s trying to figure out if you’re joking. “With… with who?”

You bite back a laugh, leaning in just a fraction closer, close enough that he catches the faint hint of your perfume. “With me, obviously,” you say, your grin widening as his jaw practically drops. “Unless you’ve got someone else in mind?”

“I—uh—n-no, I just—” Peter stammers, his voice trembling as his words trip over each other. He shifts uncomfortably, his grip on the bottle white-knuckled, and he looks at you like you’ve just short-circuited his brain. “You’re—you’re messing with me, right?”

“Do I look like I’m messing with you?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, your voice soft but steady. The teasing edge is still there, but there’s something more serious beneath it now, a warmth in your tone that makes him stop fidgeting and really look at you.

Peter swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and for a moment, he’s completely silent, staring at you like he’s not sure if he’s dreaming. “I—I mean, you’d actually…?”

You smirk, reaching over to pluck the bottle from his hands and take a slow sip, your gaze never leaving his. “If you want to, Pete,” you say simply, setting the bottle aside. “But only if you want to.”

Peter’s mouth opens and closes like he’s trying to form a coherent thought, but nothing comes out. His eyes dart to yours, then to your lips, and back again, the weight of your words sinking in. “I… I mean… I don’t want to screw it up,” he finally mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

You lean back slightly, giving him space, but your expression softens. “Peter,” you say gently, “you’re not gonna screw anything up. It’s not like there’s a right or wrong way to… y’know, figure this stuff out.” Your lips twitch into a small smile. “Besides, it’s me. You can relax.”

He exhales a shaky laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze flickers nervously to you again. “I don’t know how you’re so calm about this,” he admits, his voice tinged with both awe and embarrassment. “I feel like my brain is short-circuiting.”

You laugh softly, the sound easing some of the tension in the air. “That’s just the tequila talking,” you tease, nudging his knee with yours. “But seriously, Pete, no pressure. We can just drop it if you want. Go back to making fun of my terrible first date stories.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on his jeans. Then, in a voice so soft you almost miss it, he says, “What if I… don’t want to drop it?”

Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your expression steady, your teasing grin replaced with something warmer. “Then we don��t drop it,” you say simply, shifting a little closer so your knees brush against his. “We take it slow. Make sure you’re comfortable.”

Peter nods, his breath uneven, his eyes locking on yours. “Okay,” he whispers, his voice trembling but resolute. “Okay.”

You smile, leaning in just a little, giving him plenty of time to pull away. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” you murmur, your voice low and soft as you close the gap between you two.

“Don’t stop,” Peter whines, his voice barely audible, his lips parting as yours brush against them in a tentative, featherlight kiss.

Peter freezes for a split second, his breath hitching as your lips press against his, soft and unhurried. His hands hover awkwardly at his sides before one finally finds a tentative place on your knee, his touch light, as if he's afraid to hold on too tightly.

You smile against his lips, tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss, your fingers brushing through the soft curls at the nape of his neck. He lets out a quiet sound, somewhere between a sigh and a whimper, and it makes something spark low in your stomach.

"You okay?" you whisper, pulling back just enough to look at him. His cheeks are flushed, his lips slightly swollen, and his wide eyes meet yours like he's still trying to process what just happened.

"Y-Yeah," he stammers, his voice trembling as he nods quickly. "I'm good. Really good."

"Relax, Pete," you murmur, your hand slipping from his neck to his chest, resting lightly over his rapidly beating heart. "You're so tense."

"I'm trying," he mutters, his voice barely audible. "It's just... a lot."

You can't help but grin at how endearingly flustered he is. "Want me to help?" you ask softly, letting your hand trail down to rest just above the hem of his shirt.

His breath catches, and he nods again, his fingers curling slightly on your knee.

"Yeah," he whispers, his voice shaky but full of trust.

You shift closer, straddling his lap without breaking eye contact, your hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders. "Just focus on me, okay?" you say gently, pressing another soft kiss to his lips.

This time, Peter responds more confidently, his hands finally settling on your hips. His grip is unsure but warm, and you let out a quiet hum of approval, deepening the kiss as you rock your hips forward slightly, testing the waters.

Peter gasps against your lips, his fingers tightening instinctively on your hips. "Oh," he breathes, his voice tinged with surprise and something else— something deeper.

"See?" you murmur against his mouth, your tone teasing but kind. "Not so bad, is it?"

He shakes his head, his eyes glazed with a mix of nervousness and wonder.

"No, it's... really, really not." His voice is barely above a whisper, but the way his grip on you firms slightly tells you he's starting to relax.

You press your hips down again, a little harder this time, and Peter lets out a soft, involuntary moan that makes heat flood your cheeks. His reaction is so raw, so unfiltered, that it sends a thrill down your spine.

"You're so sensitive," you tease, your lips brushing the shell of his ear now, earning another shiver from him. "| didn't think Spider-Man could be this easy to fluster."

Peter groans, his hands tightening on your hips as his head falls back against the couch. "You're not playing fair," he mumbles, his voice strained, but there's no mistaking the way his hips jerk up slightly to meet yours, seeking more friction.

Your movements slow as you take in the way Peter's body responds to you, his breath coming in soft pants, and you can't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at how eager he is, how open he's becoming. His hands are a little more certain now, sliding up to your back, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss, his mouth hungry and almost desperate.

You pull back slightly, just enough to study his flushed face, his eyes dark with desire but still carrying that hint of nervousness. "You okay?" you ask softly, your voice low but laced with an edge of teasing.

He nods quickly, biting his lip. "Yeah. Just... just don't stop," he says, his voice barely more than a breath. "Please."

Your chest tightens at the pleading in his voice. He's so eager, so willing, it makes your pulse race in response. "Do you want to keep going?" you ask, your hand slipping down to trail lightly along his side, testing his reaction.

His entire body tenses at the question, his eyes wide and searching yours as if he's making sure he's not imagining this. "Yes," he says quickly, almost a little too eagerly. "Please, don't stop."

You smile, pleased by his eagerness, and kiss him again, slow and deliberate this time, pulling away just enough to ask, "Are you sure? Because if you want to slow down, we can-"

"No!" Peter cuts you off, his hands reaching up to cup your face, desperate now. "Please don't stop," he repeats, his voice shaking with a mix of excitement and need. "I-I want this. I really do."

Something shifts in you at his words.

The way he looks at you, how vulnerable and eager he is, makes you feel like you're in control of this moment, but it's a kind of control that feels gentle, like you're both in this together.

You nod, lips curling into a smile as you trail your hands down to the waistband of his jeans. "Alright then," you whisper, your voice smooth, just the right amount of playful. "Let's keep going."

Peter watches, his chest rising and falling quickly with each breath as you slowly unbutton his jeans, his hands gripping your waist as if trying to steady himself. His face is still flushed, his eyes darting between your movements and your face. "I've never-never done this before," he confesses, his voice laced with nervousness and excitement. "I don't know if I can-"

"You don't have to worry about anything, Pete," you interrupt, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. "I've got you. Just trust me."

And without another word, you press your lips to his again, this time with all the certainty you feel in the moment, as your hands work to unbutton his jeans fully, slipping them off gently. His body reacts instinctively, his hips bucking slightly as you tease him through the fabric of his boxers, causing a deep groan to escape his lips. Even through his boxers you can tell he's huge, his bulge heavy in your palm.

"Please," Peter murmurs, his hands now restless as they move to your shirt, pulling at it as though he's trying to keep up, his movements a little clumsy but full of need. "I want you-please, just-"

You smile at his desperation, slowly guiding his hands back to your waist, then leaning down to kiss his neck. "I'll make sure you feel good, Pete. Just relax."

His desperation and raw need tugs at your heart and ignites something deep inside you. His words are pleading, his hands trembling slightly as they cradle your face. It’s a beautiful contradiction—his strength as Spider-Man and the vulnerability he’s showing you now.

“Okay,” you whisper against his lips, your voice soothing but edged with a heat that matches the fire in his eyes. You reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head in one smooth motion, your bra following quickly after. You remove yourself from his lap briefly to take your pants off before straddling him again, now completely naked. You don’t break eye contact, watching his reaction closely.

The effect on Peter is immediate and overwhelming. A guttural moan escapes his throat, his hips jerking upward as though his body is moving on instinct. His hands drop to your thighs, gripping you tightly as his breathing becomes ragged. “Oh, God,” he murmurs, his voice thick with awe and hunger. His wide eyes are glued to you, his gaze flickering between your bare chest and your face, like he can’t decide where to look.

His hands twitch at his sides like he’s unsure what to do with them, his eyes fixed on your exposed skin with an expression so awed it makes you shiver. “C-Can I…?” he stammers, his voice shaky and full of longing.

“You can touch me, Pete,” you say softly, taking his trembling hands and guiding them to your bare waist. “Take what you want from me.”

His hands move hesitantly at first, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist and up to your ribs as though he’s afraid he’ll break you. When his thumbs brush the underside of your bra, you reach back to unclip it, letting it fall away. His jaw drops, and he inhales sharply, his eyes drinking in the sight of you like he’s never seen anything so breathtaking.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, his voice trembling as his hands hover over your bare chest. His gaze flicks up to yours, seeking permission, and when you nod, he finally touches you, his palms warm and tentative against your skin.

The soft, shaky moan that escapes him sends a wave of heat through your body, and you can’t help but arch into his touch. “Peter,” you murmur, your voice edged with desire. “You’re doing so good.”

The praise seems to embolden him, and his hands become firmer, exploring with a mix of curiosity and reverence. When his thumbs brush over your sensitive peaks, you let out a soft gasp, and his hips jerk upward again, drawing a soft laugh from you.

“Easy, Pete,” you tease, cupping his face and bringing his lips back to yours. “We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet.”

His blush deepens, but the eagerness in his eyes remains as he watches you reach for the waistband of his boxers. You slide them down slowly, and when he springs free, your eyes widen in shock, your jaw falling open.

He’s massive, thick and hard, his tip already leaking precum. You let out a soft, involuntary gasp. “Holy shit, Pete,” you say, your voice a mix of awe and disbelief. “You’re… you’re huge.”

Peter’s face flushes deeply, and he looks away as if embarrassed. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “But, uh… you’re definitely gonna have to prep me. I’ll show you how, okay?”

He nods quickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “Okay,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, his hands trembling slightly as they settle on your hips.

Taking his hand in yours, you guide it between your legs, pressing his fingers against the slick heat of your folds. His breath catches as he feels how wet you are, his eyes darting to yours in amazement. “Oh, my God,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing tentatively against you. “You’re so—”

“Yeah, Pete,” you interrupt, your voice laced with amusement and desire. “That’s all for you. Now, slide a finger in, nice and slow.”

He follows your instructions, his fingers clumsy but eager as he pushes one inside you. You let out a soft moan, rocking your hips against his hand. His jaw drops slightly as he watches your reactions, his own hips bucking upward as if he’s overwhelmed by the sensation of your body clenching around his finger.

“Like that?” he asks, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

“Just like that,” you reassure him, guiding his hand to add another finger. The stretch is delicious, and you can’t help but let out a louder moan, your head tilting back.

Peter’s breathing grows erratic as he watches you, his fingers moving more confidently now, curling inside you in a way that makes your toes curl. “You’re so tight,” he says, his voice hoarse. “I-I don’t know how I’m going to…”

“You will,” you promise, cutting him off with a kiss. “You’re doing so good, Pete. Just keep going.”

He nods, his thumb brushing experimentally against your clit, and you cry out, your hips jerking against his hand. The sound seems to spur him on, his movements becoming more focused as he learns what makes you squirm and moan for him.

Finally, when you’re trembling and breathless, you grab his wrist gently, stopping his movements. “I’m ready,” you whisper, your voice shaky but certain.

Peter’s eyes widen, his lips parting as he looks at you. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice full of concern.

“Absolutely,” you say, positioning yourself above him and reaching down to guide him to your entrance. “Just go slow, okay?”

He nods, his hands steadying you as you sink down onto him, inch by inch. The stretch is intense, and you can’t help but let out a low, drawn-out moan. Peter’s head falls back against the couch, his mouth open in a silent gasp as you take him in.

“Holy shit,” you breathe, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. “You’re so… big.”

Peter’s hands grip your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he struggles to hold himself back. “You feel… amazing,” he says, his voice cracking with the effort of not losing control. “So warm, so—”

“Move,” you interrupt, your voice desperate as you start to rock your hips. “Please, Pete. I need you.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hands guide your movements, and soon the two of you find a rhythm, your bodies moving together in perfect sync. Each thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through you, the feeling of him filling you so completely making your head spin.

Peter’s moans grow louder, his hips snapping upward to meet yours as he loses himself in the sensation. “You’re… incredible,” he gasps, his eyes locking on yours, full of awe and devotion.

“Pete,” you moan, your nails digging into his shoulders as you ride him harder, chasing your release. “You’re so good. So fucking good.”

Hearing your praise seems to push him over the edge. With a strangled moan, his hips jerk up, his hands gripping you so tightly it almost hurts. You feel him twitch inside you, and the thought of him losing control sends you tumbling into your own climax, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crash over you.

The two of you collapse against each other, breathless and spent, your bodies still entwined. Peter presses a soft, lingering kiss to your temple, his arms wrapping around you as if he’s afraid to let go.

“You okay?” you ask, your voice soft as you stroke his hair.

He lets out a contented sigh, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Better than okay,” he says, his voice full of warmth and gratitude. “That was… everything.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Good,” you whisper, your heart swelling with affection for the boy who just gave you everything he had—and then some.

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secretaccountlol · 2 months ago

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“Stay still,” Peter’s voice was a low, commanding growl, his hands deftly spinning his webbing around your wrists, securing them above your head against the headboard. The faint stretch of the sticky bonds made your pulse race, a mix of excitement and helplessness coursing through you.

“I barely touched you, and you’re already squirming,” he teased, his tone laced with a cocky amusement. His eyes traveled down your body, lingering on the way your chest rose and fell in anticipation. “You can’t even behave for a second, huh? Guess I’ll have to keep you in line.”

The cool air brushed against your bare skin as Peter slid your shirt up, exposing you inch by tantalizing inch. His hands followed, warm and slightly calloused, the contrast against your sensitive skin sending shivers down your spine.

His fingers trailed lower, featherlight and teasing, until they reached the waistband of your panties. “These?” He snapped the elastic with a flick of his wrist. “You don’t need them.” He yanked them down, the sharp motion making you gasp.

“Peter—”

“Shh,” he cut you off, pressing a finger to your lips. “You’ll only speak when I ask you to. Got it?”

You nodded, your body already trembling under his control.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice dropping into something darker, more possessive. He settled between your legs, spreading you wide open, his hands firm but reverent. The vulnerability of the position made heat flood your cheeks, but his gaze stayed locked on yours, unyielding and intense.

“You’re perfect like this,” he murmured, his lips curling into a wicked grin. “All spread out.”

He dragged a single finger through your slick folds, collecting the evidence of your arousal before bringing it to his lips. His tongue darted out, tasting you with a satisfied hum. “So sweet. I could spend all night on you.”

When he dipped his head, his mouth hot and wet against your most sensitive spot, your back arched, and a broken moan escaped your lips. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he worked you over, his tongue and lips relentless in their assault.

“You taste so good,” he groaned, his voice muffled against you. “I could keep you like this forever, trembling and desperate for me.”

You tugged against the webbing, the bonds unyielding as pleasure built in your core. “Peter, please—”

“Ah, ah,” he chided, pulling back just enough to make you whimper at the loss. “You don’t get to cum until I say so.”

He slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right, while his other hand pressed down firmly on your hip to keep you still. The sensation was overwhelming, his fingers pumping slow and deliberate, building you up just to the edge.

When you were teetering on the brink, his free hand ghosted over your clit, his thumb circling with an infuriating gentleness. “You’re gonna cum when I tell you, and not a second before. Understood?”

You nodded frantically, your body trembling as he kept you suspended in agonizing pleasure.

“That’s my girl,” he said, his tone a mix of praise and dominance. “Let’s see how many times I can make you beg before I let you have what you want.”

And with that, Peter’s mouth was on you again, his fingers relentless as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, leaving no doubt that you were entirely his tonight.

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secretaccountlol · 4 months ago

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I’m getting a lot attraction again lmao heyyyy yall…

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secretaccountlol · 4 months ago

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Actual footage of me patently waiting for my favorite author to upload😫😫😫

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secretaccountlol · 5 months ago

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Sharing is caring

✧ Logan Howlett x reader x Peter Parker

✧ summary: Your new teammate Peter Parker has a huge crush on you, and your boyfriend Logan has always wanted to watch someone else fuck you. It’s Peter’s birthday and Logan decides to share.

✧ warnings: smut 18+, mmf threesome, oral, unprotected piv, so much cum lol, Peter is very pathetic lmao (and not very experienced) and more of a sub, Logan is dominant and reader is dom-ish for Peter but sub-ish for Logan, little bit of say gex 😋 (oral, Logan receiving), pet names (my girl, good girl/boy, baby, bub), implied age gap (Peter is the youngest – didn’t mention a specific age but early 20s-ish, reader is a few years older, Logan is obv the oldest), Peter being a nerd, lots of teaching Peter (mostly how to go down on each other), also the fic starts with smut right away lol

✧ note: idek if anyone else is interested in this character constellation and needs it as much as i do but they’re my two biggest marvel crushes (in completely different ways) so i had to!!!!! like hellooo😵‍💫 and i really love this omg

✧ word count: 7.5k oops

You’re on top of Logan, riding him like your life depends on it.

Logan’s so good in bed that you usually just let him pamper you; you both like it that way. It’s also what makes the times when you’re on top even more special. Your boyfriend is struggling not to cum in you yet, fingers indenting your hips where he’s grabbing you hard.

“You feel so fucking good, baby, such a good girl,” he groans underneath you.

You grin as you lean down to give him a sloppy kiss, pulling away before he’s done with you so you can resume bouncing up and down in his lap.

Logan slides his hand between your legs, beginning to rub your clit as he feels you clenching around him tighter.

You’re so close.

You’re so fucked out that you barely register the door to your bedroom opening.

“Hey, do you know if– oh god, sorry!” you hear Peter’s voice, and before you can catch a glimpse of him the door shuts with a bang.

It takes a few moments for your heartbeat to calm down and for you to realise what just happened. Peter walked in on you fucking your boyfriend. Innocent, nervous, adorable Peter Parker – new recruit at the mansion. You’ve only just barely befriended your new teammate and you’re not sure your friendship can handle him catching you like this.

You look down at Logan for the first time, only to see him smiling.

“He did that on purpose,” he chuckles, hands still resting on your hips as if he’s ready for you to start right back up. You stay on top of him with his cock nestled deep inside you, pulsing, but you can’t get yourself to focus on the pleasure of it.

“He’d never do something like that on purpose. He’s way too innocent for that. He wasn’t meant to see us like that – I bet he’s traumatised!”

Logan laughs again, “Traumatised because he’s not the one fucking you maybe, sure.”

Your mouth hangs open at Logan’s accusation – Peter sees you as a friend, nothing more! You doubt he even thinks about sex, let alone about having sex with you.

Rising to your knees, you let Logan slip out of you, his cock slapping against his abs with a dull, wet smack, a mix of his precum and your wetness smearing over his skin.

“What? We’re stopping cause of him?” Logan grabs your hand, “He’d get what he wants.”

“Logan,” you warn, somewhat seriously. He’s making Peter out to be someone he really isn’t.

He smiles, adjusting your hips so you’re hovering over him again, jerking his cock and positioning the tip at your entrance. You smile down at him – it’s hard to resist when he looks so good and your pussy is still wet and not yet satisfied.

“Peter did that on purpose, bub,” he repeats, breath becoming laboured as you sink down on him, “You’re not telling me you’ve been oblivious to his crush on you all this time, right?”

You involuntarily clench your pussy around him, closing your eyes so you don’t have to face looking at him after that. But Logan’s smirking – you don’t have to open your eyes to know that; you can practically hear it. He jerks his hips under you, starting to fuck into you from below.

“Y’like that, baby? Spider-Man’s got a crush on my girl. You don’t know that?”

It almost feels like you’re cumming with how much wetter you get at his words, and you manage to open your eyes to climb off him properly this time, lying down next to him, burying your face into the pillow to hide.

“Noo,” you squeal, though it comes out muffled.

Logan slaps your ass, keeping his hand there to grab your flesh, “Uh-uh, baby. You can’t squeeze around my cock like that and then run away.”

You giggle, leaning up to look at him, “That was just because I was sitting on your big dick. It had nothing to do with Peter.”

“Suure, bub, sure. Can I keep fucking you then?”

You nod, scooting closer to him, both of you on your side. Logan hikes your leg over his hip and slowly thrusts into you as your limbs tangle together. He spits on his hand to rub your clit messily, the way he knows is enough when you were already this close to an orgasm just moments earlier.

“You’re the only one I want, Logan,” you tell him in a quiet voice, distracted by how good he feels inside you as he fucks you, playing with your puffy clit.

“I know that, baby, I know that. I know you’re my girl. My perfect, pretty girl. Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy that someone else has a crush on you. Can’t expect Peter to be blind.”

You cum around his cock then, moaning into his skin as he fucks you through your orgasm, filling you with his own load seconds later.

Logan drops the topic of Peter while you cuddle afterwards, and it’s hard to keep thinking about it when you’ve got your gorgeous, beefy boyfriend next to you, your hand buried in his hair as you massage his scalp the way you know he likes.

It’s when Logan says he’s going downstairs to get you some water that you remember Peter.

“Tell him I’m sorry if you see him.”

“Sure, bub,” Logan says dismissively, kissing your knee with a teasing grin as he gets off the bed. You suppose he’s right – you have nothing to be sorry for. It’s Peter’s fault for walking in without knocking.

But you can’t help but feel bad. He’s an adult, only a few years your minor, but he seems so innocent. He likes you – you can agree with that. He admires you; that much is obvious too, but you don’t know if calling it a crush is an exaggeration. If Logan is right and Peter has a crush on you, you’re sure it’s nothing sexual.

Logan can sense Peter from a mile away. Peter is pacing up and down in the kitchen. Logan smiles at the floor as he enters the room.

Spider-Man’s face is flushed – whether it’s from embarrassment or arousal, Logan can’t tell. But the bulge in Peter’s sweatpants assures Logan that he was right in his assumption in the first place. He turns to the sink to pour a glass of water to take upstairs, giving Peter the time to adjust himself.

“My girl says she’s sorry,” Logan says in amusement, turning around, “Didn’t mean for you to see us like that.”

“What? I– no, I’m sorry. I should have knocked,” Peter stammers.

“That’s what I told her.”

Peter doesn’t reply, having a stare contest with the floor so that he doesn’t have to meet Logan’s eyes.

Logan chuckles, “So why’re you in the kitchen and not in your bedroom?”

Peter doesn’t miss the sexual implication. “I feel bad.”

“What, you think people don’t jerk off thinking about their crush just because that person is in a relationship? It’s just in your head, bub, you can do what you want.”

Peter looks up. It’s not that he feels bad towards Logan; he feels bad towards you. But if Logan thinks that way and you’re his girlfriend, maybe that means you share his opinion. Peter is too lost in thought to reply to Logan.

“Suit yourself,” Logan says as he leaves the kitchen.

“Did you see him?” you ask Logan when he comes back.

“Yeah, said he’s sorry, he should have knocked.”

“And he didn’t seem disturbed?”

Logan laughs out loud at your question, “No, baby, don’t worry. He’s not disturbed. His only problem seemed to be how hard he was.”

Your mouth falls open, “Really?”

“Maybe he’s not as innocent as you thought after all, bub,” Logan smirks, pulling you closer.

That revelation turns you on more than you care to admit, to yourself or to Logan.

It’s Peter’s birthday a few weeks later and he’s happy as long as he gets to spend it with you.

He’s not expecting you to get him anything, but you get him a Lego set that he’s been wanting for months. It’s something he’s mentioned to you only in passing and he can’t believe that you remembered.

You make it so hard for him to see you only as a friend when you’re this attentive. To be fair, he’d probably fall in love with anyone who gives him Lego, but he already liked you before. If only your boyfriend wasn’t the most attractive, masculine man in the entire world who, even though Peter’s confident in his skills, could probably maim Peter without any effort at all.

He’s not sure if it’s true, but you’ve told Peter that Logan is busy today, so he can’t join you for Peter’s birthday lunch. He introduces you to his friends and his aunt that have come to his small celebration, and he fantasises that surely some of them must think you and him have a thing going on. May definitely gives him a look when she sees how gorgeous you are, but she already knows all about Peter’s hopeless crush on you.

You kiss Peter’s cheek when everyone leaves, letting him blush in peace as you go up to your bedroom.

You told him you’d watch a film with him tonight but you seem to have forgot. It’s evening already and he wouldn’t want you to stay up too long for him if you watched the film later. Even if you did forget, he’s grateful he got to spend the day with you.

He’s about to bring his best gift – the one you gave him – upstairs and to his room.

“You like it?” Logan’s voice sounds behind Peter.

“I love it. I’ve wanted this for ages,” he grins.

“I’m glad you appreciate it. She made me threaten a twelve-year-old over it. It was the last set they had at the store.”

Peter grows even fonder of you. He knows he must be blushing, but he also knows there’s no point in hiding it – not since the night he walked in on you and Logan having sex. He’s been hoping Logan didn’t tell you about their run-in afterwards, although he knows he can be a little obvious regardless. It’s hard to hide a crush as big as the one he has on you.

Logan clears his throat, folding his arms, all those muscles bulging, “I’m not the best with material gifts but I’ve got something else for you.”

“Yeah?” Peter’s wary. Logan and him aren’t exactly friends. He wasn’t even expecting you to give him a gift.

“I know you wanna fuck my girl.”

Peter gulps at Logan’s directness, starting to stammer out a few words that make no sense.

“Y’don’t have to deny it. Can’t blame you, can I? You wanna live out your fantasy?”

Peter finds it hard to imagine that this isn’t a trap or some sick joke. “No–no, of course not. She’s your girlfriend and I’d never, I mean, she’d never cheat on you and I’d never try anything. I respect you so much–”.

Logan cuts him off, “Calm down, bub. This isn’t a trick. I’m asking if you wanna fuck my girl for your birthday. We both had the idea,” Logan smiles, and he doesn’t have to wait for a verbal answer to know that Peter wants it – the gleam in his eyes tells him enough, “C’mon. She’s waiting in your room.”

Peter abandons the Lego box on the floor. He couldn’t care less if some student found it and took it for themself. Peter’s on his way to better things.

Peter doesn’t let himself believe it until Logan opens the door to his bedroom, and there you are. You’re sitting on his bed – something Peter has imagined many times but never even dreamt of seeing in reality – in the most gorgeous set of lingerie he’s ever seen (not that he’s seen many in real life… or any).

“Hi,” he waves awkwardly, unsure whether to try and hide his growing erection. You’re half-naked only a few feet away from him, and this is better than all of his wet dreams about you combined.

You’re grinning, first at Peter and then at Logan, who closes the door behind Peter.

Logan takes a step forward to bend down and kiss you. It’s a short but sloppy kiss, Logan’s hand resting on your cheek. He looks back, chuckling at how desperate Peter must already look, and sits down in the chair near the bed.

“Hope you don’t mind, I’ve made myself comfortable,” you bite your lip. Even your voice alone could make Peter cum.

“No no no, not at all. You look so gorgeous. I never thought I’d get to see someone look so sexy in real life.”

You giggle and it feels heavenly to be making you laugh like that. You lift your hand for him to take. He gasps when his hand touches yours, and you pull him to the bed with you. He feels like hyperventilating just from being so close to you in nothing but underwear. Peter wills himself to be strong; he can’t embarrass himself and cum right away.

“You know, Logan’s been trying to tell me for a while that you might have a tiny crush on me, and I didn’t believe it at first but…”

Peter laughs nervously before you can finish your sentence, but you don’t have to. Everyone in this room knows how much Peter likes you. All of Xavier’s school probably knows – teachers and students.

“Yeah,” Peter says weakly, cheeks hot.

“Logan and I thought this could be a nice present for your birthday, if you want. Cause I think you’re cute too, and Logan doesn’t mind sharing me for one night.”

It hurts a little that you only find Peter cute, but he’ll take whatever he can get. Clearly he’s cute enough to fuck, and that’s all that really matters right now.

“Of course I want to, so what are we doing?” Peter doesn’t mean for it to come out so stupidly. He knows you’re going to have sex, he just doesn’t know the details.

“I’m gonna get you nice and hard first,” you say it with a smile, looking down at his lap, knowing exactly that he’s more than hard enough already, “and then Logan’s gonna join us and you can both fuck me at the same time. Does that sound alright?”

Peter grins. “More than alright. I don’t know if I’m gonna last long but I only need a few seconds before I can get hard again,” he tells you proudly, before he remembers that your boyfriend has healing abilities too, far more complex than Peter’s. You’re probably used to going endless rounds. Now he just feels a bit silly for admitting that he can’t last long.

Peter turns to the side to face Logan. He’s manspreading, arms folded cockily in front of his chest, and it’s unnerving how a single person can ooze that much confidence. Although, if he looked like Logan and had a girlfriend like you, Peter’s sure he would be less insecure too.

“Have you had sex before?” you ask Peter all kindly, and he blushes thinking about the image of him you apparently have in your head. He’s not that experienced, but he’s not that innocent either.

“Yeah,” is all he manages to say at first.

“What have you done?” you ask him, gently resting your hand on his jaw, thumb trailing over Peter’s bottom lip. He stops himself from licking it.

“I’ve, uh, been inside of a woman before and I’ve, like, fingered her. My ex-girlfriend.”

You smile at the unnecessary piece of information, “That’s it? You’ve never had your dick sucked?”

Peter shakes his head, feeling like he’ll cum just from your words, “No, and I’ve never gone down on a woman.”

“You wanna?”

He nods his head so eagerly that it makes you giggle again.

“Maybe later,” you tell Peter, your hand dropping back to your lap.

“You can eat her pussy after I’ve cum in it,” Logan says with a smirk. You give him a look, turning to assure Peter.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to do that.”

Peter looks between you two, “I don’t mind! I’m up for anything.”

You smile, moving to straddle him as you hum, “Good boy.”

He tenses underneath you, eyes screwed shut, and he can’t even enjoy the way he cums as soon as you settle on top of him, your hands on his shoulders. Hot embarrassment floods Peter’s body, and he feels like he might cry.

“Aw, it’s okay,” your voice is nothing but sweet with not even a hint of amusement, and Peter dares to open his eyes. Your face is inches away from his, and your closeness makes him feel less embarrassed.

“You like me that much, hm?” you continue, and Peter hears a quiet laugh from Logan, but he doesn’t care about his opinion, only yours, “I’m flattered you do. Glad you like your gift.”

“I really thought the lego set was my favourite present,” he says. This time he cracks a smile too as Logan and you giggle at his words.

“Let’s get you out of your clothes, okay?”

You get off Peter after he nods, pulling off his shirt. Peter stands up as you kneel in front of the bed to pull off his jeans, biting your lip when you feel how sticky his cum-stained boxers are.

“Look at what a mess you’ve made, baby. So cute.”

Peter swears you’ll stop associating that word with him by the end of the night, although he’s starting to like you calling him that. He takes one glance at you on your knees for him, and he has to look away in fear of cumming again immediately.

“I know,” Logan tells him, and Peter sees then how hard he already is too. Peter can’t believe Logan gets you like this every night, but for now he smiles at him as they silently bond over how attracted to you they both are. It’s impossible not to be.

Logan’s eyes drift down to Peter’s hard cock, and you’re grinning back up at your boyfriend, “Look how big he is, baby. Almost the same size as you.” The joy in your voice makes Peter stand a little bit taller. He’s proud that you like his dick. It’s probably the proudest moment of his life thus far.

You pull Peter back on the bed, sitting down as you lean back against your hands, “You wanna unwrap your present?”

Peter nods, smiling at the goosebumps that erupt on your flesh as he pulls at the ribbon that you’ve wrapped around your waist. He leans over to place it on his nightstand – he’s keeping that forever.

When he sits down in front of you, the sweet smell of you hits him. He looks between your legs, and there’s a wet spot on your panties. All because of him? He keeps feeling prouder and prouder.

“Thought about this so many times. Jerked off at least three times every single day since I walked in on you two.”

You and Logan smile at each other. He asks Peter, “You did that on purpose?”

Peter doesn’t turn to face Logan, the blush that has only just subsided flaring back up. “N-no. Of course not.” He knows neither of you believe his lie. He couldn’t help himself.

“Don’t worry. She liked it too,” Logan informs him, and Peter’s eyes go wide.

“You’re a handsome boy, Pete,” you shrug, brushing your hand through his hair and he hums at the nickname.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks finally, cock already so hard he can barely think, and you haven’t even done anything yet.

“Go ahead,” Logan says, but Peter pays him no mind.

“I wasn’t asking you,” he says bravely, and your eyes go to those of your boyfriend as you raise your eyebrows.

“Told you he’s got it in him,” you say, pulling Peter close to press your plush lips to his. It’s like an explosion of endorphins, and Peter knows that from this moment on he can die happy. You pull him closer, kisses getting wetter as the sound of them takes over the room, and it’s the hottest thing Peter has ever experienced.

“Here,” you briefly pause, taking his hand and guiding it to the clasp of your bra at your back. He fiddles with it for a few seconds, and you want to give him a chance, but then the bed dips with the weight of Logan, and he opens your bra with ease.

Peter doesn’t know when he took his clothes off, but Logan is naked except for his boxers. He looks nowhere nearly as good as you, of course, but his muscles aren’t exactly an unwelcome sight.

“Isn’t my girl so pretty, Pete?” Logan asks, pulling the straps of your bra down your arms, taking off your bra.

“She’s gorgeous,” Peter rasps, “She’s perfect.” Logan hums in agreement.

Peter has imagined your tits too many times to count, and yet they’re even better than anything he’s fantasised about. He’s too nervous to touch you, but you take his shaky hands, putting them on your breasts.

“Oh my god,” Peter whispers, breathlessly cupping and squeezing at your tits as his cock leaks with precum. He sees you biting your lip as you look at his lap, and Logan takes Peter’s hands off your tits.

“Take off her underwear,” Logan commands as you smile at his words. You lift your hips, upper body leaning against Logan, and Peter pulls your panties down your legs. He throws them off the bed somewhere, hoping you won’t be able to find them again so that Peter can keep them forever.

He moans loudly when you spread your legs, and it’s a wonder that Peter doesn’t cum again just at the sight of your pussy. You’re perfect, and so wet, and he falls to his hands, in front of you on all fours.

“You want her mouth or her pussy first?” Logan asks, although you and him already know the answer.

“Wanna go down on you,” Peter says, unable to tear his eyes away from your pussy. You spread your legs further for him, and he looks up at you with the most adorable puppy eyes you’ve ever seen.

“You can,” you smile.

Peter inhales deeply when he squashes his face between your thighs, trying to burn the memory of how good you smell into his brain forever.

He doesn’t have a technique, he just starts. You let out a soft moan when Peter licks up your entire pussy once; he moans too as he tastes you. He grabs your soft thighs, putting them over his shoulders as he lies down.

You give him a reassuring smile as he begins to eat you out, experimenting with different licks and kisses. You turn to your side to start kissing Logan, your hand holding his wrist as his arm drapes over your chest.

Peter licks greedily at your pussy, and you reach into Logan’s boxers to start stroking the hard length of him. Your hand is coated in his precum quickly, and he smiles into the kiss before he gently nips at your lip.

“You okay there, bub?” Logan pulls away to smirk at Peter. If you can still kiss Logan that well, then Peter isn’t doing a good job. You both look down to find Peter more focussed on grinding his cock against the bed rather than on eating you out. He blushes.

You reach out to touch his cheek, some of Logan’s precum from your hand wiping against Peter’s face, “you’re so cute.”

He doesn’t even register the word anymore.

“You want Logan to teach you?”

Peter nods, moving only minimally to make space for Logan next to him, both their wide shoulders knocking against each other’s (okay, Logan’s are slightly bigger). Logan huffs but doesn’t say anything, placing one of your legs over his shoulder and pressing your other knee up against your chest.

“Here’s how you do it,” Logan looks at Peter, bending down to press a sloppy kiss right against your clit, coating you in his spit before he begins to gently suck. You squirm immediately, and Peter can’t wait to try it out on you.

Logan pushes two fingers into your wet pussy, moving them in a way that you evidently like. Peter doesn’t know what to look at – your pretty face or your pretty pussy. Logan huffs next to him, “I know she looks good, kid, but you gotta focus if you wanna make her cum.”

Peter nods, watching Logan sucking on your clit and moving his fingers inside you.

“You can use your fingers to fuck her,” he explains.

“I know,” Peter says, his tone perhaps a little more petulant than what he was aiming for, “I just hadn’t gotten her consent to do that yet, so I didn’t.”

You smile at him, “you can do whatever you want to me, Pete.”

And that’s all he’s ever wanted to hear in his life.

Logan nods at him, sitting back up, and Peter gets between your legs. He knows he’s got it easier now because Logan had his mouth on you for a bit, but it wouldn’t be fair otherwise. Logan is like an old man with loads of experience, and he probably gets to fuck you every night, so he has an unfair advantage.

Your boyfriend gets next to you, kissing you – and it’s all sensual and passionate and wet and Peter can’t help but stare for a few moments. Logan starts touching your tits, groping you and moving to gently play with your nipples.

You pull away from the kiss, a string of spit hanging between your and Logan’s mouth, “Pete?” you ask softly, but Peter can hear some desperation in your voice. He doesn’t need to be told twice.

First, he quickly licks your pussy just to get that heavenly taste in his mouth again, then settles on a more precise movement of his tongue. He circles your clit, hearing you sigh against Logan’s mouth, but Peter isn’t sure if he’s the one who evoked that sound.

He slides two fingers into your pussy, curling them how Logan showed him to. He’s stopped moving his mouth, too concentrated on looking at your face to see a reaction.

“That’s it, Peter, don’t stop,” you moan, pushing his head back down and he happily wraps his lips around your clit, fucking you gently with his fingers.

“Yeah, baby, he’s got you,” Logan says into your neck, “You’ve got her, right, Peter?” he asks all smugly.

“Mhhmmm,” Peter squeaks without taking his mouth off you, and the vibration of his voice seems to make you squirm a bit more. He decides to let himself moan the way he’s been wanting to the entire time, subtly grinding his hips into the bed beneath him as he eats you out and fucks you with his fingers.

You cum with a cry that makes Peter even prouder than he’s been all night, and he thinks he’ll savour the feeling of your thighs squeezing around his head for the rest of his life. He pushes his tongue into your pussy to taste as much of your arousal as he can, stopping when he feels your and Logan’s eyes on him.

“Did such a good job,” you tell him, and he grins proudly. He gets on his knees to lean up and kiss you. Your tongue slides into his mouth, and his heart skips a beat at the way you smile into the kiss. He’s in heaven.

“You wanna fuck me now?” you ask, and Peter’s eyes go wide as he sits up and gets back between your thighs.

“And I want you too,” you smile up at your boyfriend, pulling at the waistband of his boxers. Peter has no idea how Logan has this much self-restraint, watching as he gets off the bed and takes off his boxers with a grin. Peter sees how you drool at the sight of Logan’s big dick, and Peter feels his own mouth watering.

“Here you go, baby. Gonna be a good girl for me, right? Gonna take my cock? You been waiting for this, hm?” Logan kneels next to you. He holds his cock over your face, lightly slapping the tip against your lips. Peter’s cock pulses against his abs.

You nod wordlessly, wrapping your lips around your boyfriend’s huge cock. You pull off him only to spit on it, jerking off the lower half of him that’s harder to fit in your mouth.

The wet sounds coming from you sucking Logan’s cock make Peter’s dick twitch as he spills a new load of precum. It lands on your thigh, getting your attention.

Peter doesn’t know how you can spare a single moment away from Logan’s cock, but you pull your mouth off him, “You can start if you’re ready,” you smile at Peter. Both of you watch him as he pushes his cock inside you.

Your warm, velvety walls suck his cock in unlike anything he’s ever felt before. Peter’s eyes flutter shut and he just stays like that for a few moments, the sound your mouth makes around Logan’s cock doesn’t make it easier for Peter. Even if you don’t seem to mind him cumming fast, he’s trying to prevent it, feeling so close again already.

He hears Logan huff out a laugh, and Peter opens his eyes. You’ve stopped going down on your boyfriend, looking at Peter all sweetly.

“It’s okay if you cum quickly, I did too at the start,” Logan confesses. It’s hard to imagine him – the epitome of virility – not being able to last long, even with someone as perfect as you, but it makes Peter feel better about himself, by a lot.

“I really don’t mind it, Pete,” you smile, and Peter nods. He looks down towards where you’re joined, your pussy stuffed with his cock. Even though you’re used to something even bigger, there’s an obvious strain, and you’re squeezing around him hard even when he’s not moving.

You and Logan watch as Peter starts to fuck you, your hand on your boyfriend’s cock, lazily jerking him off. Logan doesn’t seem to mind watching Peter pushing into you slowly. The two pairs of eyes make him feel more self-conscious, yet it’s also invigorating.

Peter clumsily rubs at your clit, at least attempting to focus on something other than how good he feels.

“You’re so tight, feel so good,” he mumbles, and you seem like you’re enjoying it too, back arched and hand faltering around Logan’s cock. You’re too distracted by Peter.

“Don’t stop,” you say quietly, evidently not there yet but Peter’s sure you feel good.

You share an intimate smile with Logan, and he tells Peter, “Doin’ a really good job with my girl. This is the only thing, bub..”

Logan tries to hide his smile as he grabs Peter’s hand to guide his fingers back to your clit from where they’d drifted off to your thigh, where he’d just been holding you. Peter’s cheeks turn red – or maybe they’ve been red the entire time – as he goes back to playing with your clit.

He doesn’t notice it, but a few seconds later he stops touching your clit again, too distracted by how good your pussy feels. Logan shoves his hand between your legs instead, making you moan as soon as he starts rubbing your clit in circles.

Your pussy spasms around Peter’s cock as you orgasm, and he can practically feel the pleasure flowing through you.

“Can I cum inside you?” The question comes too late to wait for an answer so Peter pulls out, cumming all over your belly in sticky ribbons as he jerks off desperately.

You bite your lip when he’s done, humming as you take some of Peter’s cum off your belly, pushing your finger between your lips. “Tastes so good,” you tell Peter, “Taste it.”

You swipe some more on your finger, bringing your hand up to Peter’s face as you put your finger in his mouth. He wraps his lips around it hesitantly, smiling shyly when he tastes his own saltiness. Logan’s watching him too, cock still hard.

You gently nudge Peter’s head down towards your belly, and he smiles at you sweetly as his lips glide over your skin and he begins to lick up his own cum.

“Don’t swallow it all,” you say, your hand in his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. He nods obediently, keeping his mouth closed when he’s licked your skin clean.

“Here,” you open your mouth for him, pulling him up to your face. His eyes go wide when he realises what you want him to do, and he holds your chin as he spits his cum into your mouth.

He was starting to worry a little because, even though he knows he has no problem getting hard after a first orgasm, it’s been a while since he’s gone three times in a row. But now his dick is so hard again that it almost hurts.

You stick out your tongue, showing Peter and Logan the cum mixed with your spit in your mouth. “Come taste him,” you look up at Logan with the sexiest smile anyone has ever smiled, and Peter feels his cock flex as he somehow gets even harder.

Logan rolls his eyes playfully, bending down to kiss you nevertheless. Some of Peter’s cum runs down your chin, and Logan pulls away from the kiss to lick it up. Peter thinks he really should start training his stamina with how close he is again just from this.

You still don’t swallow when Logan stops kissing you. “Come here,” you tell Peter, and he kneels next to you so you have him and Logan at either side, their dicks hard. You sit up a little, spitting the rest of Peter’s cum into your hand as you reach for Logan’s cock, starting to jerk him off.

He gives you a fake annoyed look at you using Peter’s cum as lube, but it’s obvious he likes it, and it makes Peter reach out to his own cock to give it a few strokes – he can’t help himself.

“Haven’t made you cum yet,” you peer up at Logan, who puts a reassuring hand on your cheek.

“You know I don’t mind watching you two, bub,” he says, and your wide smile hints that Logan has told you something slightly different in private. He doesn’t just mind it, he loves it. Peter gets why Logan might find that hard to admit in front of someone else, something about conventions and possessiveness, but he’s glad that Logan decided to share. He’s glad that you want him.

You wrap your lips around Logan’s cock again. While you suck his cock, you stop Peter’s hand on his cock, jerking him off instead. You pull your lips off Logan, turning to suck Peter’s dick.

You switch between them a few times, the taste of their precum mixing in your mouth and dripping down to their balls when you suck their dicks. Peter particularly enjoys this, awaiting his turn eagerly every time. The head of his cock is swollen with lust against the inside of your cheek, and you turn to him to focus on him fully, letting him get lost in the feeling of fucking your warm, wet mouth.

You put your hand on Logan’s hip, guiding him down the bed. He smirks as he gets between your thighs, watching you suck another man’s cock as he starts to fuck you. He goes slowly first, letting you adjust to his size as you moan around Peter’s dick.

Logan watches Peter’s eyes flutter shut at the vibration of your voice. Logan knows you’re not just moaning because of him inside you though.

“You like that, baby, hm? Like sucking Peter’s cock?” you don’t take your mouth off him, but your sparkling eyes meet Logan’s. It’s a look of understanding.

Logan is ready to cum, but he tries to draw it out. He can go endless rounds but the first orgasm is always the best. He wants to savour it, save it for a bit longer. He focusses instead on making you cum, fucking against your g-spot, almost making you see stars.

You moan around Peter’s cock when you cum again, and Logan almost submits, but he’s able to fuck you through your orgasm without cumming. Peter spills into your mouth as your cheeks hollow around him, sucking him deeper down your throat.

“Such a good girl,” Logan praises you until your pussy stops pulsing with an orgasm, and you give him a fucked out smile as Peter pulls his cock out of your mouth.

“My girl,” Logan adds, kissing you, and you sigh against his lips in pleasure.

You sit up to grab the water bottle from the side of Peter’s bed and take a sip. You pass it to Peter and Logan afterwards, and you don’t move back between them once you’ve put the bottle away, so they’re facing each other.

You sit on your knees, looking between them as they’re impatiently waiting for you to come back, both their cocks standing hard and proud against their abs.

You bite your lip, “Are you into men, Pete?”

Peter’s heart misses a beat and then happily continues drumming against his chest as he nods eagerly, although he’s not sure why it matters right now.

You share a brief silent exchange with Logan before your next words. “So is Logan,” you nod towards your boyfriend. You wait for them to catch on to what you’re saying, but Peter is too shy to and Logan is still contemplating. This wasn’t a part of the plan, but he can’t say he’s against it. He just didn’t know you wanted to see him with another man the way he wants to see you with one.

“Um, what now?” Peter asks with a nervous smile, ready to please.

You fight the urge to simply answer now you kiss, “You think you two are the only ones that get a show?”

Peter’s eyes widen slightly at your suggestion before they brighten. A shy yet excited smile takes over his features.

“You sure, baby?” Logan asks you. You bite your lip, nodding slowly. Logan smirks, because he knows that exact look and you haven’t been quite this horny all night yet.

“Only if you want to as well,” you tell him, and he doesn’t need to answer.

“This okay for you, bub?” Logan lowers his voice as he speaks to Peter.

He replies through an eager nod, “yeah.” The word comes out as a whisper.

Logan smirks as he leans in, gently placing his big hand around Peter’s throat. He’s not squeezing, just holding him in place. You didn’t mind Peter being all squirmy when you kissed him, but Logan wants to keep him still.

You watch their cocks rub against each other’s abs as they get closer, strings of spit connecting their lips as they make out, tongues tangling in desperation.

It’s sloppy, the way they kiss, and you could watch them forever.

Logan pulls his lips from Peter’s with a wet sound, firmly patting his cheek, “Now get on your knees, bub.”

The command makes even your knees buckle, and you watch Peter happily drop to the carpet, kneeling between Logan’s spread legs as he moves to the edge of the bed. He beckons you over to his side, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a messy kiss to your mouth.

You know he’s close now, having denied himself an orgasm this long.

Peter wraps a greedy hand around the base of Logan’s cock, leaning in to press a few kisses to his dick. You and Logan watch him, you pulled closely against his side.

“You want me to show you what to do?” you ask Peter after a while of him not doing anything but kissing and licking. Peter nods quickly, “yes please,” and you kiss him after you sit down next to him, tasting your boyfriend’s precum and some of your own arousal on him.

“Think he’s almost there,” you tell Peter as you look up at Logan through your lashes, and he smirks.

“That’s not a problem,” Peter says quickly.

“Here, you can use your tongue,” you tell him, wrapping your hand around Logan’s cock as you take him into your mouth, tongue wet against the underside of him, “try it.”

You keep holding Logan’s cock as you pull off him, angling it towards Peter’s face. His face is flushed as he takes Logan’s dick in his mouth for the first time, sucking on the tip.

“That’s it, doing so good,” you brush your thumb over Peter’s cheek where it bulges when he takes Logan deeper. Your and Logan’s eyes on him make him nervous, and he pulls off to kiss you instead.

You make out with him for a few moments, letting him kiss you greedily and wetly, before you guide your mouths back to Logan’s cock. You and Peter part only minimally as you kiss either side of Logan’s dick, spit running down from your mouths to his balls as you share him.

“Feels so good,” Logan mumbles, all blissed out, watching his perfect, pretty girlfriend share his cock with another guy.

You see how close he is, slowly pulling your mouth off him and leaning your cheek against his knee as you watch Peter take your boyfriend’s cock into his mouth all by himself.

“Attaboy,” Logan says, placing a hand on the back of Peter’s head when he goes deeper, spit falling from his lips.

“Juuust like that,” you add, your praise spurring Peter on. Logan’s other hand goes to your cheek, absent-mindedly brushing over it with his finger as he holds your face.

Peter gets more confident when Logan’s breath stutters. He moans on Logan’s cock as he takes him as deep as he can, the wet sound from his mouth obscene.

Logan’s hips jerk as his cock twitches in Peter’s mouth, and he cums down his throat in warm, sticky ropes of his load.

“Good boy,” Logan softly ruffles Peter’s hair when he’s done, and you lean in to kiss Peter, some of your boyfriend’s cum still fresh on his lip.

“Doesn’t my boyfriend taste good?” you ask against his lips, hardly breaking the kiss. You can hear the slick of spit and cum on Logan’s cock already as he jerks off again, to the sight of you two making out with his cum between you.

“He does,” Peter mumbles against the skin of your jaw, kissing down your neck.

“He tastes better than me?” you tease.

“No– no, you taste better than anything in the world.” And Peter means it.

You’re not done until hours later; you fuck until it’s the middle of the night. Earlier, Peter was ready to forgo his birthday movie night just so you can go to sleep on time, but he got something much better, even if it means you stayed up late for him. He can’t say he feels too bad.

Peter is tucked in, you and Logan at either side as you send each other loving glances over Peter’s head. You’re stroking Peter’s hair, basically cuddling him with how close you are.

“Hope you liked your present,” you tell him, pressing one last kiss against his lips as you smile at his sleepy expression.

“Best birthday ever,” Peter mumbles, before he drifts off into a peaceful sleep.

P.S. reblog + let me know your thoughts and Logan and Peter will appear in your bed tonight 🩷🫣

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secretaccountlol · 5 months ago

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hi mae!! can i request tasm!peter ’teaching’ reader how to touch herself maybe? i love how u write him <3

Thanks for requesting! And I got your other ask about them being in an established relationship, so I incorporated that too :)

cw: smut mdni

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

“Peter.” Despite your best efforts, your voice is teetering on the brink of a whine. “You’re being mean.”

“I am not,” he laughs. You think that definitely seems a little mean, him laughing while you’re wet and squirming in front of him. “We’re doing this for you, remember?”

“You’re not doing much of anything for me,” you mutter. It makes an appalled bark of laughter come out of your boyfriend, his fingertips digging into your thigh as he gives it a teasing squeeze.

Peter’s lying on the bed in front of you. He looks like a pre-teen at a sleepover, chin propped on his hand, legs kicking behind him, the only difference your glistening cunt a foot from his face.

“The point is for you to learn to do it yourself,” he reminds you jovially. “What if I’m not always here to get you off, sweetheart? What if I die a tragic death?”

You frown, fingers stilling on your clit. “Don’t say that, please.”

“Sorry.” He kisses below your kneecap. “What I’m trying to say is, I feel like I should make sure you’re taken care of when I’m not around. Or that you can take care of yourself, so to speak.”

That gets a short laugh out of you. Peter smiles like he’s won the lottery.

“Make sure it’s good and wet, baby. You’re not getting a lot of friction there.”

“It’s not working,” you complain. You bring more slick upwards to your clit, but it hardly helps. Your own fingers seem feeble when you can remember the feel of Peter’s so vividly. “I don’t have to think so hard when you’re doing it for me.”

Peter gives you a knowing look, his lips tipped up on one side. “You don’t have to think now, either. You’ve gotta relax.”

“I’m trying,” you huff. You worry your efforts are building up more frustration in you than anything else.

He sits in front of you for a while longer while you plead with him with your eyes and heavy, despondent sighs. His pupils are dilated as he watches you try to work yourself, your sex so close he could put his lips to it with just the slightest movement forward. You swear your clit is going to go numb when Peter finally lets loose a sigh of his own.

“So stubborn,” he murmurs, almost to himself. He starts to sit up. “Okay. You want help?”

“Yes, please.” It’s an effort to keep your smile at bay. Peter’s expression makes you suspect he can tell, one part exasperation and two parts smugness.

“Lay back for me.”

You do so eagerly, but when your hand moves away from your cunt Peter catches your wrist.

“Hey, what’re you doing?” he asks. You stare back at him bemusedly, and he looks like he could laugh again. He puts your hand back where it was. “We’re not done with this, sweetheart.”

You frown. “I thought you were gonna help?”

“I am gonna help.” He smiles, bestowing a kiss on your lips. “We’ll get you there, don’t worry.”

He positions himself above you, kisses a slow, meandering path down your neck. His lean, muscular arm snakes between your bodies, his hand guiding yours between your legs. Thumb moving your own over your clit.

“Slower, baby, like that.” Peter’s voice is a satisfied hum. “You weren’t really trying before, were you?”

“I was,” you argue, but your voice is already growing weak from the suggestion of his touch and the realer, more tangible thing of his mouth on your throat.

“You can do better than that, I know you can. You’re just not patient with yourself. You’re too in your own head.”

His thumb pushes harder into yours, increasing the pressure on your clit. You choke out a moan.

“See? That’s tons better already. You can do it, sweet girl. You’ve just gotta be nice about it.”

“You’re nice to me.”

“Yeah? Thanks.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “I try to be. I want you to be that nice when you’re touching yourself, okay? Or even nicer.”

Peter alternates between chaste, soft kisses and delicate nips to your skin. Your own teeth are digging into your bottom lip, arousal pooling between your legs. Peter’s wearing his pajamas, plaid pants and a t-shirt, but when you try to slip your free hand underneath the hem he moves it to your own thigh. You frown.

“Don’t touch me, touch yourself,” he says. He picks his face up to deliver a kiss to your lips, laughing when he sees your expression. “I mean, thanks, baby, I love it when you touch me, but this is about you, remember? Touch yourself wherever you wanna be touched.”

You follow his instructions, bringing your hand up to your breast. When you squeeze, it makes your cunt throb.

Peter’s eyes darken. “Attagirl.”

You make a soft, stymied sound.

“You ready for more? You can do it, sweetheart, just do what feels good. Wanna put your fingers inside?”

You’d already been contemplating it, but the instruction helps. Your two fingers slip into you with little resistance. It’s not as much as you want, and your hips move seemingly of their own volition, searching for more.

“Be nice,” Peter coaxes. His lips press gently to the soft underside of your jaw. “You’re okay, keep going.”

His thumb nudges yours, and you pick your rhythm back up. The next roll of your hips finds more sensation. You let out a pent-up breath.

You can feel Peter’s smile bloom against your throat. His hand closes over your wrist, urging you deeper until your pointer and pinkie come into contact with sticky skin.

You get to a point where he’s doing most the work, your fingers moving on instinct inside of you while he works your thumb like a joystick over your clit until you’re sopping and no longer have the wherewithal to swallow down the needy sounds that want out of you. Peter likes those, always has, in a way that’s at once gratifying and embarrassing for you. His kisses grow heavier as his lips move close to your ear.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart? You’re doing such a good job, so good for me, my pretty girl. Feel how nice and worked up you can get yourself? Hear how pretty you sound? I know you’re close, baby, you deserve this. Cum on your fingers for me.”

You gasp almost wetly as you do, teary and overwrought. Peter kisses you all over your face and holds you through it. You breathe hard, and you must be off the hook, because when you find his hand with yours he coos and intertwines your fingers, squeezing lightly.

“That’s my girl,” he says. “You did it. Didn’t I tell you?”

“I feel like I might’ve hurt my wrist,” you mutter.

Peter laughs, the sound clear and bright. “You’ll get used to it, baby.”

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secretaccountlol · 6 months ago

Note

hii! this is my first time requesting ever so i hope im doing this right 😫

could i request a tasm!peter smut fic where the reader has never had an orgasm? they’ve tried before, so they’re not necessarily innocent, but it’s just never happened. peter then helps reader orgasm for the first time and it’s just overall very fluffy :) fem reader please!

thank you!! i love your writing!!!!

thank you for requesting hunny! you did it exactly right. tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

cw: detailed smut, fingering, trope of experienced guy, inexperienced girl, swearing

1k words

The turn the afternoon had taken was definitely unexpected, but certainly more than welcome. Peter had initially invited you over to study, but you had gotten distracted. Now your books had been clumsily flung off the bed long forgotten and abandoned for better things. You laid upon rumpled covers, Peter tugging impatiently at the neckline of your top as he kissed you. You arched up into him, pulling him as close as physically possible. His mouth met the fingers of one hand at your collarbone, the other gripped your waist, nudging the fabric away to touch your skin.

“This okay, baby?” Peter held himself above you, scanning your face for any traces of what you were feeling.

“Yes please.” You said, a little too enthusiastically for your tastes. You checked his face for any evidence of discomfort. “Are you okay with this?”

He was grinning at you now, eyes full of affection. “Yes, I am okay with this.” His tone implied that it was far more than just “okay”. That was further confirmed when his hips slotted into yours and you felt the full evidence of his desire. Your shirt and pants were soon discarded and his your boyfriend’s hands were eagerly exploring every inch of newly-exposed warm skin. He pulled away briefly to remove his own shirt, but the second the material was gone he was on you again, greedy and excited. As he mouthed at your neck his fingers were trailing down your torso, leaving the nerves hypersensitive in his wake. They slipped into the waistband on your panties, lighting your skin on fire.

“Can I touch you here, sweet girl?” He whispered into your neck, his thumb pressing over the damp center of your underwear. You nodded fervently, mumbling affirmatives. You felt him smile against your collarbone as he tugged your panties off, not caring where they landed. You relaxed your legs as he opened them slightly, trailing his long fingers teasingly up your thighs as he got closer and closer to the apex. Just before giving into your wants, he moved them away, chuckling mischievously at your frustration.

“Please, Pete.” You grabbed his wrist moving him closer to your core. He grinned against your neck as he obliged you, fingers trailing up and down your slit a few times before settling at your clit. You let out a shaky sigh as he rubbed you in light circles, slowly winding you up.

“Yeah, baby? That feel good?” He questioned.

“Yes.” You answered, even though you knew it was rhetorical. You gently pulled his head up to be level with yours. “Kiss me please?”

He did so without any teasing or games. His mouth was sweet and gentle on your lips, even as he moved them down to your jaw and ear, letting your soft moans slip freely from your lips. As you got more worked up his fingers became more determined, letting two slide to your opening as your clit pulsed beneath his thumb. Peter circled your entrance, awaiting your pleased reaction before they slipped inside of you, searching for the spot on your front wall he hoped would make you fall apart. He quickly found it.

“Oh shit.” You choked, letting your head fall back further against the pillows. It only took a few more seconds of his fingers and thumb working you for your hips to start bucking. There was an unfamiliar heat building in your belly. Usually by now, sex would be almost over. Or, if you were on your own you would’ve given up before even starting.

Peter sat up a little as his other hand held you in place. He looked too pleased with himself at your reactions. Your whole body started building up and you panicked.

“Oh my god. What’s happening?” You were squirming even as he held you down. He immediately slowed his movements.

“Are you alright?” He asked, looking you over.

“It feels weird, like in my- my stomach. I don’t know what’s happening.” You scrambled breathlessly. He looked in realization, immediately doubling his actions. He cooed at your jolting.

“It’s okay, baby. Just relax, let it out. I’ve got you, you’re alright.” You loosened, deciding to let the feeling take hold. And take hold it did, you would’ve lept off the bed if his free hand wasn’t pressing firmly into your pelvis. Your body wound tighter and tighter until it all fell apart, pleasurable spasms flowing through your jelly limbs as you gasped and squeezed Peter's arms and shoulders. Electric warmth fizzled through you as your eyes grew heavy. Peter slowed his movements, muttering praises and affirmatives as you came down from your high.

“Thank you.” You said as you caught your breath. You sat up and pulled him closer, desperately wanting closeness and feeling like you would go crazy if you didn’t get it. He chuckled at your rare display of neediness.

“You’re fucking adorable.” He kissed your cheek, holding you close. He waited a few seconds before rolling onto his side, looking at your face. “You feeling okay?”

“I feel really good.” You sighed, melting into the sheets. You reached your his hand, stroking your thumb over the prominent veins in his wrist. You laid there in silence for a short while before he spoke up, skepticism lilting his voice.

“So like, you said that you’ve had sex before, right?” His tone was curious as he was still pawing at your hair and chest affectionately.

“Yeah? Why?”

“Have you never, like, cum before?” He seemed confused. You choked out a surprised laugh.

“I thought I had.” You said, winded. "Is it supposed to be like that every time?"

He laughed, smoothing your hair away from your face. "I don't know, babe. I’m pretty sure it is." He looked equal parts smug and affectionate.

"Well it's never been like that before.” You said, wistfully. A smile soon returned. “That felt really good, Pete.”

He laughed, clearly endeared by your longing tone. “Well I would hope so.” He eyed you, scheming. “I bet it could be better though.”

You looked at him wide eyed, nervousness and anticipation building in your core again. “Really?”

He loomed over you again, lips finding your ear. “There’s only one way to find out.”

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secretaccountlol · 8 months ago

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Sneaky - tasm!Peter Parker x f!reader

i’m back from the dead and been thinking about my fav spiderman

mdni 18+

Word count: ~400 (she’s short i know)

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, public/semi public sex, exhib, soft!dom Peter

The New York City subway was never your favorite way to get around. Swinging through the city in your boyfriend’s arms wasn’t very viable, you weren’t really prepared to go public as Spider-Man’s girlfriend. So here you two were, in the empty subway car leaning against each other with his hand on your thigh.

Peter’s in your ear with his raspy low voice teasing you just a little about texts you’d sent him the night prior. You were worked up alone in your room, desperate to see him and touch him. And have him touch you. Everywhere. You felt the need to let him know, even if now he wasn’t letting you live it down.

“So you want me to spank you, sweetheart?” He whispers right in your with a shiteating grin on his face.

“Shut up, Peter.” You blush and shove him a little, not wanting to let that stupid sexy tone get to you.

“I’m not making fun of you y’know… ts just what you said.” He chuckles and lightly rubs his thumb back and forth on your thigh. You feel yourself getting hotter.

“I know what I said.”

“How you want me to play with your nipples while I pound you into your mattress? Or how you want me to suck your clit with my hands underneath you squeezing your ass? You gotta be specific, baby.”

His hand works up your thigh closer to your heat and you feel his hot breath on your neck.

“Peter, we’re in public.”

“There’s no one here, they aren’t exactly monitoring these cameras.” He’s still grinning as his hand slides to cup you over your pants. You're even wetter under his touch now and the whine you let out gives it away.

“You’re a perv.”

“Only for you baby.” You blush and bite your lip. Peter’s hand makes its way under your pants to rub your clit over your underwear while he starts sucking on your neck.

His long fingers move in perfect circles as you get closer to the edge.

“You’re so good for me, letting me play with you where anyone could see us…” Increasing his pace, you feel your orgasm washing over you at his words while you let out a long whine.

As he pulls his hand from your waistband, the train slows.

“I think this is our stop.”

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secretaccountlol · 8 months ago

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ANDREW GARFIELD Behind the scenes of The Amazing Spider-Man

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secretaccountlol · 8 months ago

Text

Just a Game

You and Peter like to play a game. It requires no trivia or plastic pieces. Just two people and feigned innocence.

Warnings: CNC (which has been discussed explicitly) unprotected sex, language, minor breeding kink at the very end

You and Peter like to play a game.

It's not a board game, though you two enjoy those from time to time. Not a video game, though Peter has expressed interest.

This game doesn't require any trivia knowledge or plastic pieces. No one has to keep track of points. There isn't a timer.

All this game requires is a surface and your two bodies.

Sometimes it was a couch, when you two were in the middle of watching a movie. Other times it could be your kitchen counter, dinner be damned. Rarely, it would be the back of a car, which was your favorite. Peter’s favorite-against a wall- depended on when and where.

Today the surface was your shared bed.

It started innocently, like it always does. Peter found you curled up in bed, reading. He hadn’t considered playing today. But then he saw you, wearing only one of his hoodies and those pastel yellow panties that drove him wild.

It didn’t help that Peter could smell you. Though the cover of your book didn't look out of the ordinary, your arousal revealed the true nature of your reading choice.

“What’cha reading ladybug?” He asked, curling up to you.

You put on an innocent smile, keeping the book to your chest, “Oh nothing. Just one of those silly romance books.”

Peter raised his eyebrows, “Silly? Let me see.”

Before you could squeak out an objection, Peter snatched the book away, his eyes scanning the page you were on.

“He pushed her dress up to her hips, revealing her wet core. He dove in, lapping up her arousal like a starved man, his mouth quickly attaching itself to her clit.”

Sometimes you got so caught up in playing your role. Peter had said much dirtier things to you and yet there you were, head in your hands and a warm flush coursing through your body.

Peter placed the book on your nightstand before bringing your hands away from your face.

“Oh baby. You’re too sweet to be reading something like that. Why don’t we cuddle instead?”

With his brown puppy dog eyes and sweet smile, he actually sounded genuine. For a moment, you thought he wasn’t inviting you to play. Not when he had his head in your lap, practically purring as your fingernails gently scratched his scalp.

But then his long, nimble fingers made their way under the blanket, grazing against your bare skin, drawing shapes along your thighs as he made his way up your body.

“Peter.” His name was said in a sweet, sing-song voice, “Thought you wanted to cuddle.”

He sat up, pulling you closer, “I do bug.” Peter's other hand was now underneath your shirt, creeping up to your chest..

“Peter,” you could barely breathe, too enthralled with how good his fingers felt kneading your breasts, “This isn’t cuddling.”

“I know,” He sighed, as if he felt some guilt about what he was doing, “But doesn’t it feel good bug?”

You could only nod, breath hitching up when one of his large hands began to toy with the elastic waistband of your panties.

The foreplay was fun, but it wasn't the main focus of the game.

That didn't come until you were underneath him, completely bare and withering as his hard cock slid between your soaked folds. It was a battle, fighting the urge to jerk your hips up, potentially catching him.

“Peter, w-we shouldn't,” your voice was shaky as you tried to come across as worried rather than in a pleasure laced haze.

“I know. We shouldn’t.” He's panting. Peter's lips ghosted over your bare skin, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses.

In this game, your birth control and five year relationship didn't exist.

No. In this game you were wide-eyed and innocent. In this game, both your heads were clouded with lust, longing threatening to overtake common sense.

“Maybe,” His voice is soft, addictive. “Maybe I-we-just the tip?”

You throw your head back when the head of his cock makes contact with your clit. Desire racked through your body, fingers creating crescent shaped marks along his back as you searched for something, anything to ground you amidst the pleasure haze that was clouding your judgment.

Part of you wanted to break character so he would fuck you sooner.

But where was the fun in that?

“But we-fuck- we don’t have a condom?” A box of condoms was currently stashed away in your nightstand. You had been on birth control for years. There was no concern.

Again, not in this game.

With your wide, doe-like eyes, sweet voice, and withering body, Peter was truly surprised he hadn’t come already.

But where was the fun in that? That didn’t allow him to play, to take off the friendly neighborhood hero mask and act out his deepest desires.

His head dropped down to your chest, his thin pink lips quickly latching on to one of your breasts. Your back arched in pleasure, hands grabbing Peter’s soft chestnut locks upon feeling the scrape of his teeth. His hips continue to thrust forward, reminding you of what was within reach.

“I know, forgot to bring some. It would just-just be the tip,” He sounds like he just ran a marathon. You’re so warm and wet. Everytime the plush head of his cock nudges against your clit, he can feel your walls clenching, trying to catch him, enticing him in.

“Peter,” the way you moan his name is sweeter than any song he’s heard, “We-no. Peter, don’t.”

He’s already grabbed the backs of your thighs, hitching them up to your chest. Now he has the picture view of his cock sliding through your slicked folds. You have the prettiest cunt Peter’s ever seen and God, does he want to use it.

Your hips twitch as he nudges his cock towards your all too welcoming entrance, entranced by how your walls eagerly suck him in. Eyes roll to the back of your head upon feeling the head of his cock begin to stretch you, nearly forgetting your role in all this.

“W-wait!” You try to prop yourself up, try to jerk your hips away.

But Peter is stronger. It drives you crazy, his strength. His hands grasp your shoulders, pushing you back down onto the mattress.

“It’s okay bug. Just the tip, remember?” The ambered irises are blown out with lust. Combined with the downright wicked smirk adorning his handsome face, he looks more devilish than heroic.

It thrills you. No one else sees this side of him, only you. Only you does he feel comfortable enough to indulge in these desires.

For a few moments, it's only the tip, sliding in and out of your tight walls.

Sometimes he’ll dive right in, other times he'll drag it out, as if Peter is truly at war with his morals when it comes to your sweet cunt.

“Just….just the tip,” he whispers, as though he’s trying to convince himself, trying to convince you.

The outcome is clear, but you still nod your head. “Just the tip,” you agree.

“So…fucking tight,” He watches where you two connect in awe, lips parted, “So warm. God…feel fuckin’ incredible.”

The praise leaves goosebumps on your skin, almost distracting enough to not notice that Peter has been slowly pushing his cock in more and more with each passing moment. Your body betrays you, hips jerking upwards in a desperate, near pathetic attempt to get more of his cock.

Sometimes the game is hard to keep up with. There have been times where you both forfeit, craving each other far too much to continue.

If Peter noticed you breaking character, he didn’t acknowledge it. He’s too mesmerized by the way your cunt eagerly welcomes him.

“Fuck, baby, m’sorry, it’s-you feel s’good.” His speech is slurred, drunk off your body. Before you can react, he thrusts forward, filling you to the brim.

Finally.

“Pete-no! We can’t!” You plead, despite your body enthusiastically welcoming the intrusion, “You said-ah! You said the-the tip!”

His cock twitches at your words, at the feigned concern in your voice. His lips ghost over your face, hips increasing the speed of their thrusts.

“I know, I know,” it’s almost convincing, that he truly feels bad for this, for giving in to lust. As if neither of you wanted it.

He picks up his pace, shushing your fake protests. His cock feels incredible, so full. No matter how much prep beforehand, the sheer size of Peter is still an adjustment.

“You'll- you’ll pull out, right?” You gasp, eyes meeting his.

“‘Course bug,” He chuckles.

He won't. But it's the false promises that keep you going.

“As-ah- as long as you pull out, it's okay, right?” You're committed to the role of the naive girlfriend, Peter will give you that. The concern in your eyes is incredibly convincing.

Sometimes he's so caught up in the euphoria of you that he forgets to play along. All he has to do is look you in the eyes to remember his role.

“Yeah, it's okay. God, feels incredible. Your pussy.” He hitched your legs further up until they were nearly resting on his shoulders. The change in angle allowed him to thrust deeper, reaching the spot that made you see stars.

Bliss quickly overcame you, causing you to focus less on the game and more on the coil that was currently winding up in the pit of your stomach, threatening to snap at any moment.

“God, you're clenching me. Can barely pull out.” His pressed his lips against yours, capturing them in a messy kiss.

You shake your head, “Y-you should. Peter!”

But Peter continues, relishing in how tight you're gripping him. It's addictive.

“Everytime I try to pull out, your little cunt sucks me back in. Think she wants me to stay.” His words elicit a downright desperate whimper from you.

“How’s this? I'll stay ‘till ya cum.” His composure was incredible, his voice so soft you almost believed him.

Almost.

Weakly, you nodded as Peter’s perfidious promise promptly pershing into the periphery of your mind. Who could express you to focus, when his nimble fingers were toying with your clit?

Your pleas to stop fade away, occasionally a feeble no falling from your lips. His massive hands were all over you, kneading at your soft skin, sure to leave bruises.

It's one of the best things to Peter, waking up and admiring the work he did on your body from the night before.

But for now, he could enjoy another favorite-you. It was cute, nearly adorable how your legs shook, your hips jerking upwards, desperate to get more despite already being full of him. The pathetic whimpers that fell from your lips, unable to form anything coherent. With each thrust, your breasts bounced against your chest.

It was picturesque. Peter wished he could grab his camera to immortalize this moment, but that would break the illusion.

So instead, his fingers skim your soft skin, tracing over your plush curves, downward until he reaches his desired location.

After all, he promised he'd pull out once you cum. So why not help?

His fingers on your clit felt like lightning, sending a crack of electricity up your spine. It's euphoric, you can't even bother to play along, hands gripping the strands of his hair tightly as the bedroom is quickly filled with your moans.

When you finally get pushed over the pleasurable edge, it’s loud. There are no whines or pleads for Peter to pull out. Only raucous moans that fill the bedroom, combining with the erotic sound of his skin slapping against yours.

“Shit, feel s’good. S’fuckin tight,” He pants, “Babe-baby. You feel s’good. Don’t know if I can pull out.”

His words jolt you out of the lavender haze, reminding you of the part you were still playing.

“N-No. You can’t!”

Peter nods his head, though he’s not agree with you, “M’sorry,feel s’good.”

You try to sit up, to put up a fight. But just as you do, you’re pushed back down, your hands above your head, enclasped with Peter’s. His body covers you like a warm weighted blanket, the kind where it’s so soft and deceptively confining, you can’t get up even if you wanted to. The spicy scent of cinnamon that always lingers on his body floods your nostrils, his mouth swallowing your pleas to stop as his hips erratically slam into yours.

It was blissful. You were enraptured by Peter, by his body, roleplay be damned. Your legs wrapped themselves around his lithe waist, pulling him closer.

Peter reaching his own high triggers yours again, walls clamping tightly down on his cock as he floods you with his warm.

“Baby, m’s’sorry, feels too good,” it's then you register he's still rutting his hips against yours.

Well this is a new move. Usually the game ended at this point.

The chance to prolong, to try something new was thrilling.

So you shook your head. “Peter!” Your moan contained more desire than it did distress, “N-no, you need-oh- pull out!”

But Peter just grunts. It's so animalistic, your thighs clench at the sound. His refractory period was much shorter than anyone else you had been with, no doubt thanks to a radioactive spider bite.

Now sensitivity is surging through your body, pain and pleasure mixing together. He's hitting the spot that makes you see stars, the spot you didn't think existed until you met Peter.

It's getting harder to stay in character. But as long as Peter is trying, so will you.

“Y-you promised you'd pull out!”

“I know,” he groans in your ear, “Shouldn't have such a fucking tight cunt then. Don't know how ya expect me to pull out.”

His teeth sink down into your throat, earning a sharp gasp.

“God, your cunt,” the scruff of his beard scratches against your skin, “Think you want me to cum in ya again.”

You shook your head, “No! Please!” Fingers claw at his strong back to no avail. He continues with his harsh thrusts, paying no attention to how your mixed arousal was leaking onto the sheets.

“No- stop!” But that wasn't your safe word.

He could tell you were already close, your moans increasing in pitch, how your walls were clinging to his cock.

You just needed a little help getting there.

“Gonna cum in ya again. It might just take this time. Is that what you want? For me to fuck a baby in ya?”

The illusion of your feigned innocence shatters, his words igniting a flame in you that can't be fanned out.

You're now wailing, nodding enthusiastically at Peter's words. Fingers which were once clawing at him now grip his shoulders. Instead of jerking away, your hips move upwards.

“Y-yes! Want it to take s’bad! Please fill me up!”

Your voice was nearly unrecognizable; whiny and desperate. It only spurs him on, his cock thrusting into you at a near bruising pace.

Peter's next high is with your’s, hips stuttering as he fills you once more. He knows he could go again, but everyone needs a break, an intermission before the next act.

The next few moments, you two are speechless. The only audible sounds are that of heavy breathing and the overhead ceiling fan.

“Well, that was fun,” you chuckled, running your fingers absentmindedly through his hair.

Peter finally made eye contact with you. His eyes are dark, almost black with lust. The grin on his face is downright wolfish.

“Oh sweetheart, I'm far from done with you.”

You were in for a long night.

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