#Spider-Man reader

[pokespe-rainbow]

Any Tmnt Iteration x Spiderman!Reader: Hunter vs Prey

Masterlist | Previous | Next

Warning: Medical Innacurrencies

Dizzy

Fussy

Everything was blurry

Mikey could barely see his green hand in front of his face, trying not to blink and resist the urge of fainting. If you closed your eyes, you probably would die. It always happened in movies.

Hia legs feel woobly, and it was difficult for him to lift his arm. If only he could take his phone, he could call his brothers and know everything was going to be okay.

Leo, he should have called Leo the moment this called Hunter Kraken or something like that showed up.

Damn, that guy actually knows how to fight, nothing like the Purple Dragons or some lower rank Foot Soldiers.

He was pretty sure they nunchakus just broke a minuto ago. Oh. Master Splinter was gonna be so disappointed once he got back to the lair.

Oh, he can't feel his right leg…

What happened….?

He felt a pinch befote…

Right Right

Darn… No.. A dart!

Huh…. Since when was breathing so hard…?

Huh….

The floor looked so distant right now

Come on, Mikey! You got this!

He got this…—He got—!

Oh….

He's falling…

Everything…

Everything was black….

It's not cool. He just befriended a superhero not long ago…

He….

He's dead, isn't he?

"MIKEY!!!!"

…… Raph….?

"MIKEY!" - Raphael screamed as he watched his little brother fall from the top of a building. nonoNoNoNO!

A blur of color flew past him, diving after Mikey. Two seconds and a web attached to the wall of the building and [S/n] was next to him. With Mikey. Mikey was safe. Mikey was safe. Mikey. Mikey. Mikey—

"MIKEY!" - Raphael screamed again and rushed to his little brother. [S/n] was trying to shake him gently in search of reactions - "Hey, hey. Buddy? It's me" - Raphael almost snatched Mikey from [S/n] arms, and his little brother lied limp against him. His breath pitched - "Mikey??"

From behind his mask, Mikey's eyes flutter between consciousness, and a low rumble comes from his chest. Small whizzles come from his mouth, like a ball with a fisure.

"…. Mikey?"

"His heartbeat is slow for human standards, and he seems to be having problems breathing" - diagnosed [S/n] - "There's no seem to be external injuries… " - [S/n] paused, noticing something on Mikey's hand

They gently forced the orange turtle hand to find some kind of rustic looking dart. A dart.

"He's either being drugged or poisoned" - announced, then turning to Raphael - "Mikey mentioned one of his brothers was a doctor. Can you call him?"

Mikey. Poison. Donnie. Call Donnie.

Behind You!

[S/n]'s arm moved by itself before yhey noticing, grabbing something in the air before it could aim at Raphael's head. Both set of eyes, even though the mask, were wide open at the arrow shoot at them.

"What the—" - Raphael was interrupted mid-sentence when another arrow was shot at them, this time both of them jumping in opposite directions, Raphael holding Mikey like a newborn

"Take him out of here!" - screamed [S/n] as they looked in the direction the two previous arrows were shooted - "I'll distract them!"

Raphael wanted to reply and probably beat to an inch of death the guy who hurt his brother, but another set of arrows convinced him to throw himself from the roof, landing on a garbage container.

Quick. Seek help. Donnie. Leo.

Leo's number was quickly dialed on the T-Phone as he held Mikey and could see from the alley to [S/n] swing to the archer's direction.

A couple of rings before his blue brother finally pick up the phone.

"Ra—" "SOMEONE SHOOT MIKEY!"

Leo's breath pitched from the other side of the line - "What..?"

"MIKE SNEAK OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND I FOLLOWED HIM" - Raphael screamed from the other side of the line - "SOMEONE SHOOT HIM WITH A DART AND I THINK IT POISON HIM OR SOMETHING BECAUSE HE'S KNOCKED OUT!"

"Raphael, I need you to listen to me" - Leo said with a stern voice as he left the dojo and passed the living room - "We're are you now? Are you near some hole you can take cover in? Is this shooter still aiming at you??" - Leo yook the phone out of his ear - "DONNIE!!"

"I'm in some alley near the Hell's Kitchen, no manholes" - Raphael sounded more calm now - "And [S/n] is taking care of that guy now"

At the vigilante's name, Leo attention peaked up - "What?"

"The hell, Leo!?" - Donnie stormed put from his lab - "You know what time it is?!"

"Not now Donnie, Mikey's been shoot unconscious and Raph's with him" - he cut off his brother before putting the T-Phone on speaker - "Can you triangulate their position so we can ride the turtle shell?"

"Already on it" - Donnie toss aside his anger and was in his position as the team's medic - "Raph, I need you check Mikey's pulse and his breathing. How many pulsations for minute he's having?"

"I don't know! It's slow, and he sounds like he's having an asthma attack!" - came Raph's voice

"Got them!" - announced Donnie - "We're on our way Raph, don't move Mikey too much!"

They just hoped they could make it on time

The first thing you do was snatch the bow from this guys hands with a yoink from your web. This guy must believe he's Hercules because of the lion skin hanging from his shoulder. Who did this guy think he was? What was he doing in your neighborhood?

"Who are you? Who sent you, and where did you come from?" - You asked, you didn't want to call him Walmart Hercules on your mind. If he ever decided to actually give you an answer.

"Sergei Kravinoff works alone!" - answers the man, like a cave person

You would probably would mocked of this guy at this, but Mikey's life was at stake thanks to him. You don't feel you were in the mood to play him around.

"You just mess with the wrong neighborhood" - you put in a fighting stance. No fun, friendly Spidey for this guy.

Jorge of the Jungle decides to unleash two short knives from his arsenal. And then he jumps to the building edge where you stand and starts to swing those things. Trying to pretend to be a macho man? Not a chance. The moment he tries to swing those things, you web both and to them from his hands, ending up sticking into the building wall.

You looked were the knives landed, not wanting to dropp and stab some innocent passerby, before the familiar tingle scratched the back of your head and barely give time before Kravin Off just pushed you off the building.

This guy is buff and definitely taller than you. One of his arms is making pressure on your throat as both fall.

"Big game" - says Tarzan - "Now be still, the noblest prey ends the hunt with silent dignity"

Noble? Prey? Silent? Dignity? This guy didn't even know you at all!

You shoot one of your webs to the nearest building, actually, to any building that could be close. It works, and you feel the webs tense, but it also gets tense the grip of this guy on your throat. He's actually chocking you. You can hear yourself having trouble breathing, and Tarzan has the nerves of chuckle, that's before both of you hit the side of a building. That's gonna leave a mark.

The building side cracks, actually cracks, and Kraven's grip on your throat stirs, shaking the guy off you. Before he actually starts falling, you web him in a net-like web to one of the street lamps. Once you're sure he's not gonna end in small bits across the street one hand goes to rub your throat, like that was able to protect you.

"Amazing," - says Kraven without any kind of shame, almost… Congratulating you? The nerve—! - "No beast has ever broke from Kravinoff's grasp."

"Dude, what's wrong with you and talking in third person?" - you say, not really waiting for an answer.

You try to spy the alley where Mikey's brother took him, but it seems that you're some buildings away. Good. As long this jungle freak stays away from them, the better.

Then, just as the thought comes to your mind, Kraven materializes a knife from… You didn't even know were and actually cuts your webs! Those webs are supposed to handle around 10 tons of weight, so… You have to give it to this guy. You could use that knife yo cut your aunt's frozen turkey of Thanksgivings.

You land, oh look at that! Another roof! Lovely! As Kravinoff, whose name you start to get annoyed to hear, is trying to impale you with his spear. You do a couple of backflips as you dogde the best you can. You wonder if Mikey's safe. You can only hope the best frlm his called brothers, since you didn't have the resources to fabricate an antidote for the poison, otherway you'll already be taking care of him yourself.

He actually trows the spear as a javelin and you find yourself falling, and doung an amazing landing in your quarters in a dirty alley, again, and luckily, not the one Mikey and his brother afe taking refuge.

Kravinoff comes down making parkour, grabb his spear, landing in front of you and trows his spear again. You dogde, or you believe you do, as a sharp pain explodes and warm liquid come down your leg. You grunt, your leg is throbbing with pain and Kravinoff, you're done with this bitch.

You press both webshooters at the same time, no pocket knife to help him escape this time. You look down and almost fall in the spots as you, effortlessly, try to press the wound.

Red. Bright. Blood.

Oxygenated blood is running freely down your leg. Damn. He got your artery!

What to do when an artery has being pierced? You can't pinch your artery! You're not qualified! But you can make a tourniquet… You can do this…

You press the webshooter, this time slowly, so the web that comes out doesn't go to the roof, instead you grab the web and start rolling the web around the inner part of your thigh, and you press hard, begging internally to not loose one fo your limbs.

The blood didn't stop that quickly, but the rithm slows. Just to make sure, and begging again to be doing the right thing, you cover your thigh in more webs. The webs actually stain from red as you have to breathe openly while looking to the night sky.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfcuk! How you're even going to explain this to your aunt?? You can't go to a hospital….

You're alone…

OMG! MIKEY!

You completely forgot about him!

Did his brothers pick him up already??

Is he safe??

Is he even alive??

He must be alive… Right…???

You need to check

You wimper as you force yourself to get up. This isn't about you. You need yo check upon Mikey, and if he's safe, cool, then you'll get home, pray to the spider gens make their magic and heal you, maybe get high on ibuprofens and faint in your bed. If you end up staining the sheets with blood, you can always say you're on your period… Hormones and all of that…

Woohoooo

You can almost feel the blood loss

Didn't the human body just die from losing two liters..?

From how much blood loss do spiders die?

Because you need to make some calculations

You dragg yourself to the alley

Thank God for the webshooters

Let yourself get dragged by your own weight never feel better

Oh, there's a van there

There's a turtle in blue with some big swords in their shell

Cool, cool cool cool

Mikey's brother's are here

Yipeee

God, how's you beat a man made of lightning (after being beaten by him) but lost to miserably to some guy cosplaying as the characters from God of War?

Oh, the blue turtle is looking at you

This is awkward

"Soooo…." - you say, hoping the weakness in your voice or your limp weren't so obvious - "Are you guys from Jersey?"

[fandomnerd9602]

Gwenpool pulls Y/N into her comic so the two of you can have a Valentine's Date... You two later discover, you don't know how to get back to your world.

Gwenpool squeals in delight as Y/N lands at her picnic…

Gwen: happy valentines boo!

Y/N: w-what? What is this place?

Gwen: the blank places in between comic pages. We won’t be interrupted here!

Gwen kisses and nuzzles Y/N…

Y/N: how do we get home?

Gwen: umm…I dunno

[plscallmeeren]

YOU REMEMBER

(Aged Up) Michelle 'MJ' Jones x Reader

Request: yeah

Summary: ok so (y/n) is basically Peter (Tom Holland) and Peter is just like Ned 2.0

It's after No Way Home so no one remembers him and MJ, Ned and Peter are off to college (you've also lost all your humour and happiness in case u were wondering)

Anyways things happen and memories are triggered.... Enjoy I have edited nothing as usual (it's so late I'm so tired wtf)

Warnings: Swearing; sad MJ; yelling/fighting

Word Count: 2.6K+

You watched from a rooftop as New York teemed with activity even in the dead of night - not that that was anything unusual. Crowds of party-goers cheered with joints in hand. Mini-supermarket clerks filled out expert crosswords while casual thieves slipped candy into their pockets. Burnt-out child hackers typed ferociously in the hopes of pirating a new online game.

Those were your lesser worries. Those weren't the things you dared worry about. Not that you worried much these days. None of it mattered much, anyway. No one was there to care if you failed at what you had tasked yourself with for eternity.

You brushed down your dirtied red and black skintight suit, to no avail. That didn't matter, either.

This was peace. Peace was leaning back against the cold concrete. Peace was pressing »play« on your playlist and hearing Sweet Gene Vincent ramble around the murky night air like a newer, cleaner mist with a Cockney accent and punk ideals. Peace was pulling out your phone and looking at old photos of you and your former girlfriend and friends even though you knew you couldn't afford the emotional exhaustion. Peace was finally letting all those tears slide from beneath folds of harsh ignorance. That was peace now.

It wasn't always like that. It used to be lying around the living room, spread out on couches, with Peter and Ned telling you about the new Lego Death Star with an electronic component and MJ lying across your lap with a smile that suggested they were being stupid as she stared lovingly up at you as you ran your fingers through her curled hair.

But that sort of peace wasn't possible anymore, so there was no point seeking or missing it.

A picture of Ned and Peter grinning like idiots as they stood in front of the cinema to watch a rerun of Alien slid across the screen.

It was replaced by an image of MJ smiling back at you, mockingly signing 'metal' with one hand as her foreshortened feet lay closer to you and the camera.

You turned your phone off. A police siren wailed pathetically in the distance like a droning call for help.

Peace was over.

•••

Massachusetts

The Hercules cafe bustled with customers overflowing the nine-person chair budget.

MJ, Peter and Ned were positioned fortunately in the best corner beside the window. It was about lunch time - peak hour at that particular instalment - but the three had arrived hours earlier already.

"Mrs. Zeis is killing me," Ned was complaining, only stopping to sip at his strawberry milkshake. "Two protocols, one theory essay and an experiment setup? Does she not remember we have other subjects, too?"

The snarky waitress who never wore a name tag - the counterpart to exaggeratedly sweet Mr. Lang - strode up to them, snarling. "Will you be here much longer? We have other customers, y'know."

"Yeah, we'll have another chocolate milkshake, thanks," MJ dismissed her smoothly, turning back to her friends.

"Yeah, she's pretty bad," Peter continued for Ned. "I wrote an essay once I knew was bad but I hadn't had time to do it properly and she literally just ripped it apart."

"That's cruel," MJ conceded, smiling as Mr. Lang brought her her order. "Any chance you'll be rid of her for the last semester?"

"Not really," Ned sighed in exasperation.

"I will," Peter added cheerily, stealing Ned's straw and slurping a great deal of milkshake away from him. Ned stared on in horror.

The waitress came up to them again, but before she could dart out that poised tongue Ned was reminding her they weren't finished. She walked away with such impotence as if they had greatly insulted her.

"I can't believe we're graduating so soon... I'm looking forward to Manhattan. It's not really a great place looking back but it'll always be home," MJ said thoughtfully, chewing on her straw.

"Yeah. We had some great times," Peter smiled, handing Ned his latte in attempted reconciliation.

"Yeah," Ned added dreamily.

MJ nodded. Then: "Hey, I'm getting major Deja vu right now. Either of you?"

"Nah, not really," Ned admitted sheepishly as Peter simply shook his head.

"Huh."

They were all silent for a moment, all in their own worlds, when Peter spoke up again: "I know this sounds totally out there and weird, but do you sometimes feel like someone's missing? I mean, like there should be a fourth of us? I don't know, maybe I'm just-"

"No, you're not wrong," MJ interrupted, peering around the cafe as if something might be written on the walls in reply.

"Hey, MJ," Ned said slowly, some eerie disturbance creeping up on his usual voice. "Where did you actually get your necklace? I mean, you wear it every day, so I just... I don't know why I thought of it..."

She looked down at where her black dahlia necklace rested on her collarbone.

She stared. There was something familiar about it, and yet it was like she no longer knew it or why it was there. But she did, didn't she? She had been wearing it every day for years since...

(Y/n).

"Are you okay? You look a bit pale," Peter commented, casting a sidelong glance at Ned, who looked similarly anxious about the look on their friend's face.

It was all coming back to her. Rushing, roaring memories like tidal waves washing up to a shore that had been awaiting them for a decade too long.

"It's (y/n). He's missing," she murmured, standing up straight in seconds and rushing right past the returning waitress, almost making her fall over.

"Children! That's what you are!" she yelled after her, but MJ could hardly hear anything beyond her beating heart and gaping lungs.

•••

You lazily pressed the »play« buttons on the remote, refocusing your attention on your Chinese takeaway as He's Just Not That Into You started. It was going to be stupid. You knew that. Scarlet Johansson was in it, though, so you didn't particularly care. Stupid was good once in a while, anyway.

Your mobile buzzed, making you groan as you set your food back down to get it from the faraway table.

+339 873 5386

Probably another scam, you thought in slight disappointment, but not much surprise. You hung up. There was no one to call you, anyway.

You sat back down on your bed which acted as a couch at times like these and pulled the Chinese food back into your lap. The credits rolled.

Your phone buzzed again. Unfortunately for your innocent food, you almost completely spilled it slamming it back down on the table to reach your phone again.

+339 873 5386

You hung up again, muttering to yourself about stupid people and their stupid money scams. You wondered if you could pay not to get scammed and then realised you were in the same issue all over again. Except maybe they wouldn't interrupt takeaway night as much.

Far away one truly stubborn woman decided she was not having your bullshit and booked the next flight to New York she could find.

•••

MJ had travelled once across Manhattan and still she hadn't found even half a lead on your whereabouts.

She was close to despairing after finding your old apartment empty, countless people who should have known you to render your name foreign and only Delmar who knew of an old boyfriend of hers at all - though even he thought he hadn't seen you in more than a couple of years.

Until she saw you.

You were walking harmlessly along in your favourite black hoodie - one thing that you wouldn't let change - when you saw her, too. Or, someone who looked like her. It couldn't be. What was she doing here? She was supposed to be in Massachusetts. Far away from all of this.

You quickly turned a corner, hoping whatever psychotic trauma you were reliving at that moment would quickly pass.

She couldn't be there. You had made sure of that. Dr. Strange had made sure of that. She was safe. Ned was safe. So was Peter. She's safe.

Your inner voice repeated it like a mantra, following you the entire rushed way to your apartment building and up its concrete wasteland stairs. You stood before your door, shaking, trembling, scrunching your eyes closed to reassure yourself her familiar gaze wasn't on your back.

You were right. You had lost her. Both now and then.

You fought a losing battle with the rusty lock on your door until it finally gave in out of pity, its swinging whine stolen and replaced by your own breathless sigh.

You kicked it shut, not bothering to lock it, considering there was hardly anyone who'd be much trouble to you in Manhattan - and if they were, no lock would stop them, most likely.

Collapsing on the mattress, the bare room's singular comforting component, your head landed in your hands as heavily as lead weight. It hurt so much. It didn't matter if it had been her or not. She would never be yours again.

You looked around your place. Nothing felt like yours anymore. This fridge with a spoon, fork and plate next to it, this iPhone charger and mattress, microwave and a closet with so few clothes the spider suit almost stood out - none of it held any identity you could associate with yourself. None.

The door creaked again, and this time there was no heaving breath to hide it.

"(Y/n)?"

Please no. Please not now, not here, not unprepared... She can't be here. She was safe. I kept it that way.

She repeated your name, but your fingers only tightened their deadly grip around the sheet. Silence. Finally, you looked up, because you were almost convinced, almost hopeful that familiar voice had been a fragment of your imagination or she had decided you a lost cause and left after all.

She was still there. Your body sagged in upset.

"Do you even eat?" she snapped, and you wondered whether she had meant it to be so harsh. More words followed, each cracking like a whip also. You plead mercy with your emotional masochism. "You haven't brushed your hair in days - don't deny it, I know how it looks. You practically have bruises under your eyes. You're like a bag of bones; no exercise, no good food, right?"

You didn't answer, simply staring at her. She was so beautiful.

"God, (y/n)," she whispered, voice so soft it hurt more; the way it cradled you while it lasted and dropped you from its billowing clouds far higher up than anything else. Her pain crawled as ugly tendrils across the floor and through the very soles of your feet to the weight in your lungs.

Silence, again.

"You remember," you stated deftly, but nothing in you wanted to accept it. It couldn't be. It just couldn't.

And yet... she had remembered. Your relationship had been so strong, she had remembered. How? Curiosity danced groggily on the sidelines of your train of thought.

"Yeah. Remember this?" MJ lifted the dahlia necklace from her chest, holding it up for you to see. You did. An array of yellowing memories about your trip to France all those years ago flashed before your eyes, reminding you of every reason you had to buy it for her and every reason you should have been bursting with happiness at the fact she was standing before you.

"How did you find me?" you asked instead, earning a deserved scoff.

"I told you I'd track you down." She clenched her jaw, as if remembering how angry she was. "You promised." It was a quiet reminder, but stone in its sureness.

Your muscles tightened as you looked away. You couldn't bare it. You were certain you had done the right thing, and yet...

"You promised you would find us," she repeated, a little louder.

Still, you didn't answer.

"Look at me!" she finally yelled, making you jump, staring at her with wide eyes. She never used to be so loud. She never shouted, even when you fought. She had changed... or maybe you had given her reason to.

Tears threatened to escape her, but her expression remained firm, impossible.

"I did. I was there, just like I promised," you admitted slowly, enunciating every word so that you may never have to say any again. "I saw you, MJ. With Peter and Ned. And it was just... it was so clear you were better off without me. Without this huge Spider-Man burden on your back. You were safe not knowing me."

"So, let me get this straight," she started, in a way that unlike before was similar to the way she usually talked. Casual-sounding, light. "Not only did you assume what was best for us and ignored what we wanted, but you also - for even a second - thought I could survive seeing you like this? You really weren't planning on finding us? Ever?"

Your stood, leaning clumsily against the mattress as you watched her. You didn't need to reply.

"No. No. I won't have this. You need to apologise. You need to- to- I don't know. Make it up to us. You think this is okay? You think this way of living works? Well, it doesn't. The Bell Jar isn't this fucking depressing."

You winced. She always referenced that book when she was calling something fucked up. She began crying properly now.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I'll do anything. There's nothing like this feeling that you could be responsible for the death of someone you love, MJ. That's not an excuse, but it's a pretty damn good reason. I understand you're angry, but you've gotta understand, too. You were everything. You are. I can watch from afar, but I can't watch everything end. If you're worried about me, worry about that. Your end would be my end. My fucking end, okay?"

Her chest heaved in wet sobs. You had only seen her cry three times before in all this time. You hated it. You pressed a finger to your cheek and realised you were crying, too.

"It's not fair. It's not fair," she sobbed, gesturing wildly in the air, her curls pushed to one side.

"I know. I know. Nothing's bloody fair," you sniffed, approaching her slowly, as if she were a shy animal, a stranger, perhaps.

It didn't take much. She slumped into your opening arms with all of her force behind her. Tears of yours mingled with hers on your shoulders and in each other's hair. Everything seemed tinged with the distant taste of salt.

She looked up at you, and suddenly your lips were connected once more, though it was sloppy and damp and certainly not your best kiss. But it was something. It gave your dingy kitchenette character and your mattress the air of a childhood sleepover in the living room.

"I won't leave you alone. Ever. You need to understand that. Whether you like it or not. You get it?" she murmured beside your ear.

You wanted to answer something romantic, something impressive, something to look back on - but all you could manage was a string of shaky "you remember"s.

[dearest-painter]

Skit with GN!Deadshot & Spider-Man!Reader

GN!Deadshot & Spider-Man!Reader:Miles? Why are you hiding behind me?

Miles:SOME PISSED OFF GROWN MAN IS TRYING TO KILL ME AND I DONT KNOW WHY! PLEASE PROTECT ME PARENTAL FIGURE!

GN!Deadshot & Spider-Man!Reader:Like how im a parental figure even if you have parents also never call me that….*Looks at miguel* The fuck did the kid do to you?

Peter B:Act the same way I taught him!

GN!Deadshot & Spider-Man!Reader:I’m not surprised…YOU GOT A BABY! GIVE ME THE DAMN BABY NOW MOTHER FUCKER!

Miguel:*flustered but confused* who the hell is that!?

Peter B:Okay here’s mayday! *looks at miguel* this is my beloved Y/N,their a parent to a daughter named Zoey. In their earth their both Deadshot and Spider-Man

GN!Deadshot & Spider-Man!Reader:*Happily playing with a giggling and squealing mayday* mhm yeah whatever. Aren’t you a cutie? Yes you are! Oh I’m so stealing you from your father!

Miguel:….

Peter B:don’t even think of it,their mine

Miguel:Try me bitch I’ll make them mine

Miles:stay the fuck away from my parental figure both of you!

[vinamari]

How it feels going to bed after reading some words

It was angst

[rainydayathogwarts]

Bed side drawer - Peter Parker

summary: when Tony finds a box of condoms in Peter's bed side drawer, he doesn't expect Peter's girlfriend to walk into the room, causing an awkward interaction. a/n: my toxic trait is that i always imagine tasm!peter even tho it's in the avengers universe 0.6k wc

When Peter walks into his bedroom, the first thing his eyes lay on is the box of condoms in his mentor's hand. Tony Stark smirks from where he sits on his mentee's bed, drinking the cup of coffee Aunt May had so graciously prepared him. Peter's eyes go wide, flickering between his open bed side drawer and his mentor, and he dives across the room to get the box from him. Peter nearly hits his head against the wall when Tony tosses the box in the air, catching it in his hand when it falls down again. Peter's face flushes red as he scrambles back up, straightening his bed sheets where he haphazardly landed on them, mouth gaping open. Peter can hear you laughing with his Aunt May in the living room about another one of May's stories. She always had to tell you about the stories of how smitten he was with you, an attempt for your relationship to last forever. He needs to get that box before you walk in because that was not the situation he imagined you'd meet Mr. Stark in. He refused to let it happen.

Peter tilts his head to the side with desperate eyes, begging "Please give me those Mr. Stark." Tony grins teasingly, saying "You know these only work when there are two people involved, right?" Peter doesn't have time to react before the door to his room opens again and you walk in, saying something about the story Aunt May had told you before your eyes land on the older man in the room, prompting you to go silent. Oh no, Peter thinks. Tony quickly's eyes quickly scan you where you awkwardly stand in the doorway, and the obvious mortification that settles on your face at the realisation of who he is.

"Oh."

"Oh." Tony's tone is suggestive, and completely different from yours. He stands up from Peter's bed, slowly making his way across the room to you. His eyes flicker between you and Peter, the box of condoms still in his hands as you shoot a hand out in front of you, smiling nervously and saying "Hi, I'm y/n." in a lowsy attempt to ignore the box laying in the man's hand, eyes glancing down to it a couple of times. Tony shakes your hand, introducing himself, before asking "And who might you be y/n?" Gulping, you glance between your boyfriend, whose face has flushed a dark shade of red, and the avenger standing in front of you. "I'm Peter's girlfriend." You state, eyes widening as Tony puts the box of condoms in your hand.

"There are two people involved then..." You hear him mutter under his breath, but it's nothing as embarrassing as Aunt May walking into the busy room and observing the situation, attention immediately caught by the box of condoms that you throw at your boyfriend in a panic. The box hits Peter's chest and falls on the floor, and neither of you make a move to pick it up whilst you smile awkwardly at May, who follows Tony out of the room. You huff when they walk out, turning around to dig your head into Peter's chest in humiliation. Your boyfriend hugs you close, rubbing a hand on your back, and he's happy you can't hear Tony say "That girl seems too sweet to be having sex with your nephew." or his Aunt May's scoff of "Yeah until you come back home after a night with your friends and hear everything through those walls. She really knows how to talk dirty."

[hanasnx]

“ BETTER FIND A MOP, IT’S GETTIN’ STICKY IN THIS BITCH ” — peter parker.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: marvel rivals chad peter parker w yuri lowenthal’s legendary voice. a recipe for success. also this wouldn't be possible without this anon. WARNINGS: fem reader ノ established relationship ノ dirty talk ノ explicit sexual content ノ p in v ノ finger sucking ノ biting ノ long cock peter agenda ノ suit + mask sex but mask comes off halfway thru so you can see his pretty face <3

“Yeah? Mmph—you like that—hm—baby?” PETER PARKER speaks between his sheathes, evidently getting lost in the feeling of you wrapped around him. So much so that dirty talk for this silver tongue is interrupted by his own unfocus. It blurs in and out from the overload of sensation between his legs. You can’t respond, brows furrowing as he wetly slithers in and out of you, the head of him brushing that spongy spot inside you every time he bottoms out.

You try your best, murmuring a weak yet eager, “Mhm, mhm,” Nodding your head even while his fingers are hooked on your lower jaw over your chin.

“Couldn’t wait, huh?” Peter asks rhetorically, a slight snicker sprinkled in as he watches you with as much awe as a mask can have. “Was like I was ambushed.” he muses, reminiscing over his entrance met with such welcoming open legs. His cock bucks in at the memory, and you cry out through your occupied mouth. The knuckles between your teeth get a squeeze, a nip, and he releases a burst of air. “Trying to bite me, honey?” The tone conveys a sense of disbelief but it’s pleasantly surprised, and his pace quickens. Choked moans shoot out of you as he fucks into you, his body weight pinning you down while your suspended legs bob from the movement. Your lips enclose apologetically over his gloved fingers, the wet felt fabric is foreign against your tongue when you circle around them. In a bout of curiosity, your tip traces the embossed texture of the web design around his knuckle, maintaining eye contact with his mask while you do it.

Your cheeks hollow out, sucking on his two fingers and he groans from low in his throat. It’s the kind of purr that sends a shudder down your spine, eyes rolling back as he slots in your lulling body. The sheer length of him causes an ache inside your core that arches your back, clutching onto the sheets for purchase as you brace the sharp pain for the brain-melting feeling of pulling out only to fuck back in. His other hand comes to hook under the hem of his mask, peeling it off of him, and his brown hair explodes out in an endearing mess. You can finally see that crooked grin.

He pivots your head for you by your mouth, resting his wrist on the mattress to hover over you properly. Faithfully, you keep those fingers in, and he rewards you by shoving them in deeper, the tips of them making you lurch with a gag. Once again, he reacts audibly in euphoric relief like he was waiting for you to do that. “Baby.” he says in that voice, and it’s like a prize. You erupt in full-body tingles, curling your toes as he openly mouths at your neck. The pad of his tongue flattens against your pulse point, and ends it in a hard bite, scraping his teeth against your skin. You keen, that coil in your belly going taut.

Drool seeps out of the corner of your mouth while you desperately suck his spit-soaked glove, pitiful whimperings spilling out of you while he fucks you into the mattress.

[atlabeth]

bend an ear

pairing: peter parker x fem reader

summary: your boyfriend doesn't listen to you. good thing your friendly neighborhood spider-man does.

a/n: there's just something about him idk. andrew garfield spidey bc of course! look at him! this came from me playing the spider-man game after it went on sale and yearning for peter parker (will prob have to rewatch the movies bc of this) anyways hope you like it

wc: 3.6k

warning(s): reader's bf is shitty -- they argue for a while and he lowkey slut shames her. but this is basically all fluff otherwise bc childhood best friends to lovers babby!!! real yearning loverboy hours!!!

Peter just wants to go home. 

It’s been… a day. He got his ass kicked by an English test (he doesn’t have time to do the readings when he’s fighting crime), got his ass kicked by Flash Thompson (it’s not like he can fight back with his super strength and pulverize his ribs), and has spent every second since his final class ended fighting petty crimes around the city. 

Stopping ATM thefts and minor muggings feels good, sure, but on days like these, it doesn’t really make up for failing intro literature classes and getting absolutely zero sleep. He’s just thankful May is still letting him live with her while he studies at ESU—if he had to do all of this in addition to trying to make his rent? He doesn’t really want to think about it. 

So he swung his way to the roof of some random building, and he’s taking a break. Sue him, but Peter thinks he deserves it. What’s the point of living in a city like New York if you can’t have a second to yourself every once in a while? 

He’ll go home soon. Grab a bodega sandwich, maybe stop another crime, and then get home for some much needed rest. But for now, he’s just going to sit on this rooftop and relax for a second. Even Spider-man needs some peace and— 

“Babe—” 

“Why are you following me?”

Peter winces as the door slams open, an argument following close after as a girl storms out onto the roof followed by a guy speeding to keep up with her. His first instinct is to swing away as soon as possible, but for some reason, he stays. 

“Because I want to talk!”

“God, do you even hear yourself?” 

“You keep talking over me, so I really—” 

“You don’t get to babe me right now!” 

As if his day hadn’t been bad enough, now he’s accidentally made himself privy to some couple’s dispute. He’s about to web himself out of this third wheeling nightmare when the girl turns around with a groan, revealing her face, and Peter realizes who it is. 

It’s you.

This is your apartment complex. Peter came here without even realizing it, but can he really be surprised? Your name is synonymous with peace in his brain. Comes with the territory of being friends for so long—it still calms him, even when you’re being the opposite of peaceful. 

“I don’t get why you’re acting like this!” the guy exclaims, frustration clear in his voice. 

Of course. Why wouldn’t your shitty boyfriend be here too? The only reason you live here is because you scored this place together; said he didn’t want you living on campus anymore. Ethan Frey might be the bane of Peter’s existence after two and a half years of him being your boyfriend. 

“Because you and your posse are acting like complete jags in front of all my friends!” you shout back. 

He laughs in disbelief. “I’m just being myself, babe. Besides, you’re the one who said I could invite them!” 

“Because you complained about it just being my friends,” you grind out. “You weren’t even supposed to be here, Ethan! You just can’t handle the thought of me being around guys that aren’t you!” 

“Well, what the hell am I supposed to think, huh?” He gestures wildly. “You spend every second with that geek and I’m supposed to believe you’re not into him?” 

And now he’s eavesdropping on a conversation between you and your boyfriend about him. How could this get worse? 

“God, it isn’t like that at all!” you exclaim with a mirthless laugh. “Peter is my friend— my best friend since elementary school. You knew when we got together that wasn’t going to change.” 

“Yeah,” he says, nodding lazily, “but that was before I knew how obvious his hard-on for you was.” 

Peter feels his face heat beneath the mask, wants to wipe the sweat off his palms. That’s how it could get worse. 

Your nostrils flare as you turn away, your hands flexing while you shake your head. “Get out of here, Ethan.” 

“Oh, of course that’s where you draw the line,” Ethan mocks. ���When I bring up fuckin’ Peter Parker.” He pauses then chuckles. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” 

Peter nearly intervenes right then and there, wanting to stop this mess before Ethan does anything to hurt you. But revealing himself sounds like the worst possible thing to do, so for once he listens to the rational part of his brain over the emotional. 

“He’s not even here!” you retort. “I live with you, not him. I’m dating you, not him. Why are you bringing him up?” 

“Because I���m not blind.” Ethan crosses his arms. “Y’know, I thought you’d get over this little thing after you let me take you out, but for some reason, it’s exactly the same. I swear you spend more time with him than me.”

Your hands clench into fists. “Get out of here.” 

He scoffs. “You want me to leave you up here?” 

“Yes,” you nod. 

“God, you’ve been acting crazy this whole night!” he complains. “You’ll freeze up here. Just get over it—we’ll go back down, I’ll get you a beer—” 

“I hate beer.” 

“Then I’ll get you a fucking apple juice,” he spits. “Just stop being so dramatic.” 

“You’re not listening to me!” you shout. “I want you to leave me alone!” 

This time he says your name, and you shake your head. 

“Go back to the apartment,” you interrupt. “Because if I have to spend another second with you, our relationship might not make it through the night.”

For once, Ethan is silent as he stares at you. You stare back with no sign of giving up. Eventually, he just huffs and shakes his head. 

“Whatever.” He starts walking towards the door. “You better cool off up here, because I’m not dealing with this shit when you come back down.” 

You stare at the door for a good twenty seconds once he closes the door—slams it, rather—before you angrily kick a stray soda can. Your childhood days of rec soccer must still be in you, because you get an arc on it. Just before it can go over the side of the building, Peter shoots a web to catch it wholly on instinct. 

Your eyes widen as you dart around, and Peter is finally spotted from his place on top of the roof door building thing. What is that even called? He doesn’t really have time to think about it. The aluminum can crunches as it flies into his hand, and you stare at him in complete shock. 

“Uh,” his mouth suddenly feels very dry, but he has to make some excuse for why he’s up here, “littering is bad.” 

Good one, Parker. 

“You’re Spider-man,” you say, eyes still wide. 

“The one and only,” he nods. 

“Oh my god,” you mumble, finally seeming to break out of your shock as you cover your mouth and turn away. “Oh my god, Spider-man just heard my relationship falling apart.” 

“I didn’t hear anything!” Peter exclaims. “I—”

You shoot him the withering look he loves so much, that was able to get his bullies to shrink on the spot in high school—it feels weird being on the receiving end of it. 

“I’m not stupid,” you say. 

“I kn—” He has to stop himself from saying I know, because realistically Spider-man has no idea who you are. “I’m sorry.” 

You huff and cross your arms. “Do your superhero duties include eavesdropping on failing couples?” 

“It was an accident,” Peter says. “I was up here before you were. So technically, you were eavesdropping on my actual superhero duties.” 

You laugh, and he smiles just at the sound of it. One benefit to wearing the mask, because it would expose him right on the spot. “Oh yeah? And what are those?” 

“Patrolling the streets,” he says. “I’ve got a very good vantage point from up here.” 

You hum, your mood turning a bit more morose as you glance away. “Well, I’m sorry you had to hear all that during your patrol.” 

“I’m sorry you had to go through it,” he says. “Your boyfriend sounds like an asshole.” 

You roll your eyes. “He’s fine, most of the time. Just had a little bit too much to drink.” 

Peter will never understand why you defend Ethan so much. You’ve been together since freshman year and he’s only gotten worse since then—maybe he hides how he is around you, because he hasn’t really shied away from showing Peter how much he hates him this past year.

“He looked pretty sober to me,” Peter says. “And trust me, I have plenty of experience fighting guys that have had too much to drink.” 

You huff. “What are you, a spider-therapist?” 

“I’m good at a lot of things,” he says. “And I’m always good for bending an ear.”

“Surely you have better things to do than listen to me complain.” 

Peter shakes his head. “My schedule’s pretty clear right now, actually.”

“Really?” you marvel. “There’s no crime in New York City at,” you check your watch, “11:37 pm?”

“Absolutely none,” he says. “I solved it all. At least for now.”

You laugh again at that and gesture with your head as you walk over to the edge of the roof. “Then I guess I’ll take you up on that offer.”

Peter jumps down and follows you over. You hoist yourself on top of the wall, legs dangling over the edge, and he feels himself frown as he leans his back against the wall and looks up at you. 

“Isn’t that a little dangerous?” 

“You’ll catch me if I fall,” you say. 

“Obviously,” Peter says. “I’m supposed to encourage safe behavior in New Yorkers, though.” 

You laugh and tilt your head up towards the night sky. The moonlight reflects in your eyes and Peter knows he could get lost in them forever. “Just this once, then.” 

“I think I can let it slide.” 

“Good.” 

A comfortable beat of silence passes between the two of you, and Peter finds himself smiling. No wonder he ended up at your place out of instinct. There’s nothing else like your company. 

“I always think it’ll be different,” you murmur. Peter glances up at you, your expression shifted to something more melancholic. “We’ll have a good day, which’ll turn into a good week and a good month, but he always does something to mess it up. It’s like it’s in his DNA.” 

He stays silent as you think. Most of the time when you rant to Peter, you just want to be heard, not given advice. At this point, he’s an expert at listening to you. It’s not like he minds. 

“I want things to work out. I— I still love him. I mean, I think I do. But everything is a fucking struggle with him. If I don’t do things the exact way he wants, if I try to do something for me instead of him, if I can’t read his fucking mind, then he loses it and we argue. And I’m so fucking tired of arguing!” 

Your voice has risen by now, and you bite down hard on your cheek. Peter doesn’t realize he’s started reaching towards you to comfort you until you look back down at him, and he runs his hand over his head in an effort to cover it up. 

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “I promise, I’m a much nicer person than this. You just caught me at the worst time.”

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I know.”

Your brows rise. “Spider-man knows I’m a nice person?”

“I can just tell,” he rushes, trying to save himself. He’s doing a real good job at not revealing his identity. “I’m good at reading people.”

You chuckle and shake your head, then adjust your position so your back is towards the open air. It makes Peter nervous, he can’t lie, but it’s not like he’s not a superhero. 

“So, spider-therapist,” you say. “Any advice?” 

So this is one of the rare times you do want answers. Peter wonders if you’ll leave your boyfriend if Spider-man tells you to. 

“He doesn’t sound great,” Peter says, inclining his head. “How many times have you argued this week?” 

“Four,” you say. “Five, if you include tonight.” 

He whistles. “And it’s only Wednesday.”

You tip your shoulder. “We’re efficient.” 

“And unhappy, it sounds like.” 

“We’re not unhappy,” you defend. “We’re just…” 

“You’re up here talking to me instead of down there with him,” Peter says wryly. “That doesn’t exactly scream ‘happy couple’.” 

You shake your head with another sigh. “It’s because he can’t get over Peter.” 

He tries to act as nonchalant as possible when you bring him up. Is this an invasion of privacy? Letting you talk to him about all this when you have no idea who Spider-man actually is? 

Instead of floundering over moral qualms, he just clears his throat. “And who’s he?” 

“My best friend,” you say. “The one person who’s been by my side since the second I moved to New York. He means everything to me.”

Peter feels his heart skip a beat. “Yeah?” 

“He’s like— like the opposite of Ethan, and it’s wonderful. I guess that’s why Pete irks him so much. Y’know,” you pull out your phone and start typing in your password, “maybe I should call him. He always knows what to say.” 

“No!” Peter exclaims with a bit too much force, causing you to give him a look. “No— I mean, it’s late. He’s probably asleep. And— and it’s a school night?” 

You tilt your head, and Peter exhales when it seems to work. “True. He’s probably studying for that biochem test.” You grimace. “I should be doing that too.” 

He watches you type out a few texts and send them, and Peter’s never been more thankful to have his phone on silent. What a way that would be to blow his cover. 

You shove your phone back in your pocket with another sigh. “I just hate that my boyfriend and my best friend don’t get along. I love them both—why can’t they like each other?” 

“I mean…” Peter trails off when you look at him, and he gestures with his head. “It seems pretty obvious why they don’t get along.” 

“Yeah,” you say dryly. “Because Ethan thinks Peter likes me, and he probably thinks I have some secret crush on him too. I swear, he’s always looking for a reason to fight.” 

God, could the universe be calling him out any more? It’s honestly ridiculous how this is going. 

“Do you?” Peter asks, because he can’t help himself. “Like him, I mean.” 

“I don’t know,” you murmur. “I love Pete, I do. It’s always been the two of us no matter what. But I…”

He holds his breath as he tries not to look at you, tries not to make it too obvious that he might have stumbled his way into his simultaneous dream and nightmare scenario. 

He’s had a crush on you for what feels like forever. Since you stood up for him against his bullies in elementary school, honestly, and it’s only grown over the years as the two of you have grown. From recesses spent together and bike rides through the city; spending the night in Peter’s apartment because it was easier for your sister to let it happen than try and drag you back home; endless nights with heads bent over textbooks trying to study for tests, over college applications trying to get into the same place, and now studying and researching near every damn weekend together because you’re both unfortunate enough to try for ESU STEM degrees. 

You were there when Ben died. He’s there on every anniversary of your parents’ accident. Without knowing it, you were there when he got bit and his whole life turned upside down. 

You and Peter have been there every step of the way for each other, and it’s why he’s content with just friendship—Peter wants you in his life no matter what. But he can’t lie and say he doesn’t hope. 

No, actually. He yearns. He’s doomed to be a yearner for the rest of his life because he’ll never stop loving you. How could he? 

“I’m not sure,” you finally say with a sigh. “All I know is that I’d rather be with Pete tonight than Ethan.”

Peter wonders if your chest compressions are still as good as they were in high school, because he feels like he’s about to have a heart attack. 

You’d rather be spending tonight with him than your boyfriend of two years and seven months, and Peter isn’t even supposed to know. 

You mistake his silent freakout for nonchalance, and you clear your throat as you jump back onto solid ground. 

“Well, I’ve spilled my soul to you,” you say wryly, crossing your arms. “Anything a superhero can spill in return?”

Peter thinks for a good, long second. His hands itch to take off his mask, to do what he’s wanted to do since he got bitten by that stupid spider and show you who he really is. 

How many times has he been a total asshole, canceling plans on you because he had to go stop some supervillain from wreaking havoc in Times Square? How many times has he been late to something important to you because he was caught up stopping dime a dozen muggings? He still remembers the look on your face when he showed up just in time to miss the entirety of Les Mis’s opening night with your first lead role. 

You were a better best friend to Peter than he was to you because of this stupid mask. If he took it off, it wouldn’t make every mistake fade away, but it would sure help explain some of it. 

But Peter has been doing this since high school, and he has seen far too many times what happens to the loved ones of heroes. They’re used as leverage, used for ransom, sometimes just straight up killed.

You’ve been friends with Peter since you and your sister moved into the apartment next to May’s thirteen years ago. It doesn’t matter if you never share Peter’s feelings. You’re one of the only constants in his life, and he’s not going to lose you because he’s too selfish to keep a secret. 

Losing you would be the last straw. He couldn’t take it. 

So Peter pushes all thoughts of secret identities revealed out of his mind and tries to chuckle convincingly. 

“I’m allergic to peppermint, believe it or not.” 

You stare at him, deadpan. “That’s nowhere close to all the shit I just gave you.” 

“It’s true!” he exclaims, holding up his hands. “Happened after I got bit by the spider. They’re repelled by peppermint oil, and I guess I am too.” 

You shake your head in disbelief. “I can’t believe Spider-man is a coward.” 

“A superhero’s gotta have some secrets,” he says, and he taps the side of his head. “Otherwise this thing doesn’t do much good.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you say. “Whatever.” 

A chill suddenly goes up Peter’s spine and he whips around—he can hear a distant scream followed by a distant gunshot, and he mentally curses. 

“Duty calls?” you ask, drawing his attention back to you. 

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m sorry—” 

“Don’t be.” You smile, and it’s genuine. A nice change from the state Ethan effortlessly puts you in. “You went out of your way to cheer me up. Pretty super of you.” 

“I hope it makes up for the eavesdropping,” he says. 

“More than,” you nod. “Now get out of here. Your city needs you.” 

Peter nods too, and he backflips onto his original spot. “Have a good night. You’re real special to somebody.” 

He’s gone before you can say anything else, already zipping across the rooftops to get to the scene of the crime. Peter can only think of your face as he swings through the air—all the things he’s too scared to say to you. 

The crime, which turns out to be yet another petty theft, is resolved easily enough with some punches, kicks, and a snappy one-liner. Once he’s retrieved the woman’s purse and alerted the police, he’s back in the sky. 

Peter only stops once he’s swung a couple miles away, perching on the edge of some rooftop for some actual peace and quiet. He checks around once or twice to make sure he’s not somehow back at your place, and when he’s sure it’s all clear, he pulls his phone out. He swipes past all the notifications he’s racked up until he finds the one he’s looking for: the texts from you. 

hey pete, I know you’re prob asleep rn but you were right. I really need to study for that test lol

wanna meet me at the library tomorrow after QM? I’ll buy the coffee this time i promise <3 

as long as you use your roomie’s dining dollars to get me a croissant lol 

Peter can’t help but smile, larger than anything tonight. This is why he’s okay with being nothing but your friend for the rest of his life. 

Deal. Anything to get you an A 

lol

asshole 

Never 

Try to get some sleep. No good studying on a tired brain 

Three dots appear for a good long second, enough to constitute a decent paragraph—then they disappear. In its place: 

I’ll try just for you 

night boy genius

(How could he not love you?) 

Night, girl wonder

[darkmemesworld]

Why when im scrolling through a tag i flashed by cho0chie 😦?

All jokes aside i had posted a meme and not even 3 minutes later it got flagged.. and im starting to see a lot of prn bots is it just me???

But why did my stuff get flagged but bots thats are showing naked people still up 🤔

[ultraviolet-rayblogz]

THE WANK BANK— miguel edition!

╰┈➤ a list of some of vi's fav smutty fics!! (mostly me dick riding my moots)

— "Earth 703” (+ the sex pollen drabble) BY @xbellaxcarolinax

— “Mystery Girl” series BY @fairlyang

— “Lunch Break” (and literally EVERY scientist hubby!miguel fic she’s written) BY @improbable-outset

— “Nerd!Miguel starts an OF” and it’s sequel BY @cheonstapes

— “69ing w/ Miguel” BY @mybvalentine

— “Sticky-Icky" BY @bluesidez

— "Dad Bod!Miguel ft. breeding kink" BY @cupcakeinat0r

— Literally any of their "sweet thoughts", but this one especially BY @sweetimpurity

— Every single fic she writes is phenomenal, but my favourite is the "Curvy!Reader x Miguel" headcanons BY @cherryredstars

— “Let's Make Up" and "Don't Push It" BY @monarchberrysblog

— Every "The Quiet Storm on 209.9" oneshot BY @risararelywrites

— "Miguel Knows How to..." BY @lacedinweb22

— "My Husband Has A Symbiote!" BY @slushycoookie

— "Study Night" BY @pxtched

— "Mi Valentín" BY @xxsugarbonesxx

— "Present time with baby daddy!" (specifically pt.6) BY @yougavemeyourheartyouknow

— "Devil's Advocate" BY @st4rymoon

— "Pretty in Pink" BY @miguelhugger2099

— Literally ANYTHING BY @lazyjellyfish300

— "Miguel x Wife!Reader (Lactation Kink)" BY @exhaslo

obviously there are many many more amazingly sexy fics and extremely talented writers on this app, so I might have to make a part 2!

[arpicityandneed]

Hi! If it's still open, somniphillia andsticky? And/or 18+ peter?

a/n: anon... what if I kiss you on the lips for giving me my first peter ask?

18+ f!reader. established relationship. college student Spiderman!Peter. somnophilia. creampie.

He came in through the window, his movements silent and all his senses attuned to you sleeping on your bed in the corner of the studio apartment.

Peter wasn't a cocky guy, but seeing your lush form wrapped up half naked in the sheets made him feel ten feet tall. You were his. Just his. And in every way you trusted him to take care of you, protect you, love you.

He'd already been aching for you after being out all night again, but damn seeing the curve of your ass as you slept in one of his shirts had him hard in seconds.

He pulled the sheet off you slowly without waking you-- wanting to keep you soft and sweet as long as possible. He thought you were adorable when you were sleepy, clingy and whiny in a way you never let yourself be when you were fully awake.

The spiderman suit came off in only a few pieces and he was left in his boxers, a prominent wet spot where his cock wouldn't stop leaking. Those got pushed down his thighs and tossed over his shoudler before he climbed into bed behind you.

You mumbled his name but didn't wake, which wasn't surprising since it was damn near 3am.

Peter groaned softly when he gently reached between your legs and found you wet and slick. Poor baby, taking care of yourself when I'm busy.

He slipped one finger into you, finding your hole relaxed and eager around his finger before he added another. By the third finger your hips were moving on instinct and he was smirking to himself. His needy lil girl couldn't be patient even in her sleep.

It was easy to line himself up with your hole, it was harder to go slow enough not to wake you. Inch by inch he buried himself in your wet heat until his tip was kissing your cervix.

You moaned and clenched around him but beyond your eyelids fluttering you were still dreaming.

"I gotcha," Peter mumbled as he rocked into you, slow and steady easing you onto your stomach.

Each thrust was compounded by the simple trust between you two. Peter's mind flashed back to the first time you brought this up.

"Just fuck me in my sleep, babe. I miss you too much anyway." You'd been half joking at first, but when Peter had interjected incredulously,

"What, you want me to use you and let you wake up with my cum leaking out of you?"

Your eyes went dark and you weren't joking anymore when you nodded. "That.. that actually sounds hot."

So Peter didn't feel any shame as he used your perfect pussy to get off, your slick coating his balls as he grunted and tried to keep himself quiet. His eyes rolled back into the back of his head everytime you clenched around him on instinct and he got close faster than he ever thought possible.

Just a slut for my cock huh baby? Don't worry, I'll leave you a big surprise for the morning, perv.

He couldn't resist whispering in your ear as his body covered yours, his thick shaft stretching you out so beautifully. He wondered if you'd still feel sore the next morning- the thought made his balls ache.

When he came he had to bite his fist as he groaned, loading you up with spurt after spurt of his cum. HIs hand reached out grab the headboard not realizing he left a hadnprint dent from squeezing too hard.

He pulled out slowly and watched his cum leak out of your gaping pussy, scrambling for his phone to snap a pic before laying down beside you. Cuddling close and kissing your shoulder sweetly.

Fuck he loved you.

[iridescentparkers]

lessons in sexting ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

warnings: very suggestive! (18+)

“PETER!” you exclaimed, and he dropped inside of your bedroom window. You lay on your shared bed where you once waited for him to arrive. He yanked off his mask and crawled between your legs, quickly placing his hand along your waist and head buried in your chest. “What’s wrong?”

“I can never go outside again,” he muffled, turning his face to the side as he remained on your chest. 

“What are you talking about?”

He dug around in his pocket before grabbing his phone and scrolling to find a picture of himself. Lying down, his sight refused to meet yours as his head remained turned to the side, and he raised his phone to your face. “Read the text.” 

The photo was quite…shameful. In the photo, the phone was angled downwards towards the bottom half of his thin, sweaty suit. Peter was unbelievably hard and gripping his erection above the material. The upper half of the photo showed Peter’s teeth gripping his mask, drippings of sweat falling down his face. Underneath it was a text that read, “Baby, I miss you <3” 

“I didn’t get this text-” 

“Look up,” he murmured, and you moved your eyes to see that he sent it to Harry. You couldn’t help but laugh, Peter then groaned into your body and placed his hands on his face. 

“Is business rough these days? I didn’t realize Spiderman offered this kind of service.” You laughed, slamming his phone down on the bed. 

“Please.” he began, “He hasn’t responded 'cause it's late but I know he will never let this die.” 

“I don’t know if I will either!” 

“I missed, you!” He exclaimed. “It was getting boring and hot in that suit.”

“If it helps,” you whispered, running your fingers through his unkempt hair. “You looked good.”

“Really good?” He murmured, moving his eyes up to your face before placing kisses on the top of your breasts.

“Mmm hmm,” you hummed, nodding as Peter moved to hover above your body, placing you beneath him as he kissed you deeply. “Really good.”

[selfcarecap]

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 🩷🫣

[wyvernest]

mating szn

part 1 (part2)

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating

summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy

You're preparing dinner when you hear the opaque glass doors of your shared mansion open for your lover to come in. It's almost midnight, and it doesn't take you longer than a few seconds to realize how tired he has to be.

Miguel walks into the open kitchen, frowning. 

"Baby! I missed you!" You jolt to him, pans clattering dangerously as you throw them aside, careful enough not to ruin your work but swiftly enough to get to him as fast as possible.

You curl your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes, pressing your chest flush against his hard pecs. His hands grab at your hips, absentmindedly and by habit.

"What's wrong?". You place a gentle, loving hand on his cheek, trying to meet his gaze. But he's not looking at you. His eyes are darting all over your face and body, brows still creased. 

He could feel it, your scent. A collection of the whole day, everything you've done. The food, the places you've been. He feels like it's been so long since this morning, when he woke up beside you, kissing along your neck. 

He feels a surge of blood rush from his heart and through his lucidity, a shot of adrenaline inexplicably taking over him.

You don't smell of him anymore. Anger bubbles in his chest as he thinks of all the people you must've talked to around HQ, who didn't smell his strong musk on you, who had no idea you belonged to him.

He's never felt like this before. He brushes the unfamiliar feeling aside for a moment, grounded by the silent plea in your eyes.

"I'm good. Just a bit tired." He brushes wild strands of baby hairs out of your face, finally matching the loving look you've greeted him with from the start.

He leaves you to finish the meal and steps into the shower, hoping that an ice cold stream would cool him down. Only it doesn't do anything but worsen the situation.

The second he feels the water spray hit his body, he flinches, unlike the usual relief he gets. His skin is abnormally feverish, the ghost of your body in his arms taunting him further into madness. He soon finds himself desperate to get out, to be reunited with you and the warmth only you could ever provide for him.

Images of your supple body breaking in his embrace flood his already lust crazed mind against his better judgment, and he feels his cock fatten slightly at the memory.

When he takes it in his hand, he nearly starts bucking his hips into his hold, sensitive and insanely needy. He imagines you in the bathtub with him, arching your back over the edge, spreading your legs for him to pound his cock into you under the hot stream, your moans echoing and ringing into the stone tiles.

He can't take it anymore. His body aches for your touch and attention.

Exiting the shower, he pulls a pair of loose boxers up his thighs, the only thing he can tolerate with the fever that has taken hold of him so suddenly.

And then, he focuses on the image of you, standing where he left you, gently stirring in a bowl. You're wearing one of his t-shirts, draped down to the middle of your thighs and over your elbows, an oversized dress. 

He approaches you, wrapping his arms around your front and waist, dropping a fraction of his weight on your back just to keep you from moving or fighting against it. You throw your head back, closing your eyes.

His head drops to your neck, kissing here and there, exhales smoldering hot on your throat, stopping momentarily to deeply inhale your scent. Among all others, there is a distinctive smell of you, of your arousal and need for him that drives him mad.

"Wait- Miguel, let me finish this-" You protest, your creamy tone betraying your true intentions. 

He groans, kissing your naked shoulder, his hands squeezing your form in front of him. 

All tasks are ultimately abandoned as he pushes you against the counter, his defined abs hitting your back, the marble surface cold against your thighs. He presses his fat, hard cock up against your plush ass, his hands fondling your breasts through his shirt, groaning low and quiet in your ear. 

With his biceps curled and constricted around your navel, your body goes limp in his hold, trembling ever so slightly as his warm, broad palms squeeze the soft flesh of your tits. He pushes them together, massaging gently, almost experimentally. He flattens them with the heels of his palms softly, only to them constrict his fingers around them so perfectly, fondling and groping away.

"Mm- Miguel, oh-" You breathe out, finding balance on your hands, arching your back into him. You feel your core pulsate with need, swelling up under his movements. You're almost completely wrapped up in his massive body, with nowhere to go. 

And just then, you accidentally knock a knife off the counter, startled when it hits the marble floor with a loud clank. He jumps, backing up from your body. Your face is flushed, eyes half lidded, breath heavy, nipples perked under the thin cotton. Landing back to your senses, you move to bend down and pick it up.

His eyes automatically snap to your round ass and the dark wet spot on your panties that invites him so blatantly to shove his cock in between your pussy lips. 

He can't help it. He can't control himself anymore.

Balance leaves your position as you feel his rough, eager hands grip your hips, harshly pulling you back into him. The plumpness of your ass hits the girthy shaft of his cock, but before you can look for the lost balance with your hands in front of you, he thrusts his erection up against your clothed cunt, making you whine in need.

"Ay, mi amor-" His voice is rugged and satisfied, laced with a deep groan. A broad palm hits the side of your behind, making the tender flesh ripple against his hard-on. "Te necesito muchísimo ahora." (I need you so badly right now.)

You yelp, perplexed, instinctively grabbing his wrists for balance. He pulls you up with your back against his chest, splaying a cursory hand across your abdomen, sending shivers thundering down your spine and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Miguel!" You playfully fight against his possessive hold, "Is this your way of helping me prepare dinner?!" You free yourself, giggling and letting a wide smile take over your features. Stepping back and extending your arms in front of you in an attempt to shield yourself from him, you chuckle wholeheartedly.

Seeing you resist, he lets out a defeated exhale.

"Fine. I'll be good, lo prometo." (I promise). He motions for you to come closer and trust that he'll behave. Letting your guard down, you approach the counter, eyes fixated on his playfully.

He feels your body heat nearing him, so comfortable and tempting. The smell of you, and everything that drives him crazy about your presence alone. His breaths deepen and quicken abruptly, his cock straining in his boxers, twitching freely against the material, begging to be enveloped in your wet warmth.

He looks down at you like a panther about to pounce, waiting for the perfect moment to do so. Your smile curls wider, eyes shining with lust and a teasing playfulness. His body dwarfs yours, his shadow alone making you feel puny. His shoulders are tense, the same way they are when he's on top of you, riding you into next Tuesday.

He shifts to place a clawed hand on the counter, the sharp edged digits tapping against the surface catching your attention momentarily in the corner of your eye. He exploits the split second it takes you to look down to his arm, snapping and squatting to grab your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder.

"NO! You promised! Miguel! The food!" You try to reason, throwing any and each accusation you can think of, knowing that you definitely don't want him to drop it and leave you alone, truly. And he knows it. 

And that's when he feels it. With your ass on his bulky shoulder, he can smell it. Your arousal, dripping hot. His fat cock finally hardens completely, its monstrously girthy shaft poking through the shorts. 

You're ovulating.

Groaning ruggedly, he delivers a rough spank to your plump ass before pushing two fingers over the wet mound of your clothed pussy, running them over your slit, teasingly, collecting more of your scent.

He swears the only thing stopping him from fucking you raw right on the kitchen floor is your comfort.

"Okay! You win! Put me down, I'll let you fuck me."

Without a second thought, he places you back on the floor, hands on your hips, talons grazing your tender skin deliciously.

His eyes have reddened, pupils blown wide, exhales hot and labored. You don't want anything more than to wrap your arms around his neck, to press yourself into him, to feel his hard abdomen on your stomach, his pecs on your soft tits, his mouth on your neck.

But you want to see more of how needy he is.

You jolt to the stairs with no warning, climbing the winding wooden steps like a cat. You hear him behind you, his weight put onto each movement as he chases close behind, the staircase creaking under him.

Looking behind before reaching the hallway of the first floor of your mansion, you feel your panties dampen at the sight of the man and the sheer size of him, massive shoulders slightly hunched forward in focus and adrenaline, his height successfully making you stagger on your way to the bedroom.

divider by @cafekitsune

HOPE YALL LIKE IT IMMA CONTINUE ‼️‼️

a/n: primal play is thoroughly discussed beforehand. insisting that your partner has sex with you even after resistance without having discussed the aforementioned resistance is abusive.

[electrosuite]

shower sex with peter plsssss

warnings: swearing, unprotected sex, shower sex, oral sex

word count: 774

masterlist

Peter was especially dirty tonight. Being thrown into a puddle of mud that soaked through his suit meant that he was literally caked in dirt and blood. You wound up putting the suit into a trash bag for the time being to avoid it getting everything else dirty, shoving it under your bed so no one found it.

You hated seeing him after a fight, all bruised and bloody. Turns out New York City had a huge villain problem that you didn't know about before you met him.

You watched him in the mirror as he stepped into the shower, even his ass dirty. You stripped yourself bare and followed him in. He was just standing under the water with his eyes closed, sighing of relief at the feeling of the hot water.

You placed your hands on his sides, eventually sliding them all the way around and hugging him from behind. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder blade and he tipped his head back to lean it against your scalp.

You were careful not to hurt him, but you weren't gentle enough. A couple of his ribs had been cracked and were hurting his lungs. But, to be completely honest, your arms around him was welcomed. He needed a hug, especially one from you.

After a few seconds, he turned around to face you. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you gently, water now hitting the back of his neck.

He swapped your positions, putting you under the stream. He slowly pushed you against the wall, the water hitting the top of his head and flowing down your faces.

His hands slid down your body to your ass and he smirked into the kiss. He squeezed a bit and you couldn't hold in the moan that conjured up.

He kissed down your body and didn't stop until he was on his knees, holding your writhing body by your hips.

"Peter," you said softly.

"Hm?"

"Why don't we take a real shower and move this to the bedroom?"

"Mm, I don't wanna."

Immediately, he kissed your clit and you shuddered. He hiked your leg over his shoulder, his other hand on the back of the straight knee.

You didn't feel like trying to persuade him to stop, and honestly any thought you had in your head was gone the second his tongue made contact.

You reached down and tangled your fingers in his wet hair, giving you a better grip on it. It didn't take long for you to be a moaning mess, him having to hold your trembling legs still.

The second he was kissing you again, it was like something took over and he was smushing his face against his. He scooped you up and wrapped your legs around his hips. He held you up with one hand — that damn Spider-Man strength — and positioned himself at your entrance with the other.

"Are you hurting?" you asked after he winced a bit.

"Not much. I'm good."

"You sure? I could always just let you take me from behind," you said seductively.

As an answer, he sunk you down onto him and you moaned, laying your head back against the wall. His lips latched onto your neck as he began thrusting, the water hitting where your bodies connected.

You'd only had sex standing once or twice before so you forgot how good it felt for your body to be completely controlled by him. Shoved against the wall, your feet not even on the ground, he could move and fuck you however he wanted to.

But tonight, it didn't seem like he would last much longer. You didn't blame him though, as he never did after he fought bad guys.

You grabbed his face and looked into his eyes, his pupils as big as his irises. Eye contact was always a big turn on for him, so you knew this would get him to cum soon.

"Peter, I want you to cum in me."

"You sure?"

You nodded. "Absolutely. Fill me up." And with that, he was slamming into you, trying to get there quickly. "Fuck, that feels so good."

Within seconds, you felt his warm cum fill you to the brim, dripping out onto the shower floor. You always loved seeing the look on his face when he came — eyebrows pointed up, mouth agape. It was hot as hell.

After a few more kisses, he put you back down on your feet and sat down on the side of the tub on top of the shower liner to catch his breath.

You smirked, washing your hair as you breathed heavily.

[sl-newsie]

Normal people: look up an actor to see what other shows they've been in

Me: sees a hot character and immediately researches for fanfiction about them

It's an instinct now.