#andrew garfield smut

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

mistletoe

a/n: thanks for helping me distract myself from everything that's happened these past few weeks ৎ୭

polls for the story: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

summary: while spending the holidays for the first time with your boyfriend’s family, you and his stepfather finally snap and a romance ensues. 

warnings:  boyfriend's stepdad!bucky barnes x reader x peter parker, smut, christmas stuff, major age gap (y/n is a uni student and bucky is in his 40-50's), college au, forbidden romance, cheating, established relationship, bucky has a tattoo sleeve instead of the metal arm, lawyer!bucky, dubcon, the classic "stuck under the bed" trope, clothed x naked, polyamory, threesome, kissing, dirty talk, public sex, manhandling, size kink, belly bulge, spit kink, masturbation, mutual masturbation, oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, bondage, blindfold, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 8687

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When you five minutes earlier had snatched up the spare key hidden in the flowerpot on the frosty front porch of your boyfriend’s house, the last thing you’d expected to happen next, once you’d tip-toed inside the vacant abode, was the unfortunate entanglement you found yourself in presently.

Trotting up to Peter’s room, not long passed after you’d set down your bag, your mind scrambling for the best spot to plant yourself in to pose perfectly for the surprise you were about to spring on him, that the phone in your palm tumbled out of your grasp and in the hectic flickering that crackled through your senses, your foot accidentally bumped against the device and sent it soaring under the bed that stood in the middle of the room. 

Through the grumbles that swiftly flowed from your lips, you sank down to your knees on the hardwood and twisted your head downward to grant you the perspective needed to spot the still glowing screen in the dusty darkness. 

Soon half of your body had disappeared beneath the bed as you stretched an arm up as high as your reach would let you, though as the tip of your tongue peaked out past your lips and you tried to squeeze yourself further into the dark, only a whisper of your touch managed to graze against the phone’s smooth edge. 

However, when the bright idea hit you to try and find a long item to help you scoop it closer to you, a sharp sting of resistance met your scalp as you reeled to try and crawl back out. 

“Fuck!” you hissed as your right hand soared up to the clump of hair at the crown of your head that had somehow gotten snagged on the underside of the bed frame. 

As you continued to yank and tug without prevail, dread slowly began to settle within your being before a creak suddenly found your ears and washed away some of the flickering panic. 

“Oh, thank god you’re here!” you squeaked from under the bed at the person in the doorway, presumably the guy whose bed you were trapped under, “baby, I–,” an airy giggle couldn’t help but seep out and filter through your sentence as you said, “this isn’t how it was supposed to go, I was gonna lay down on your bed or something, all dramatically, and surprise you, but now none of that matters because I’m stuck,” you laughed at your pitiful situation, your bottom barely covered in your short skirt as it wiggled up at him, “Peter, please, just help me out. I wanna kiss you, I haven’t seen you in two months.”

Though your boyfriend didn’t utter a word as the floorboard groaned beneath each of his steps, slowly crossing the room till you felt his presence behind you.

“It’s my hair,” you muttered, your hand still curled up by your head, “I don’t know if there’s like a nail or whatever’s going on under here, but it’s caught on something, and I can’t get it free.”

Gently, you felt his hand reach under the bed till it was gliding up the back of your neck. Slipping your fingers down to his, the skin felt much more rough and calloused than you remembered, though you swiftly shrugged that observation off as you guided his touch up to the imprisoned strand. 

As he attempted to break you free, his body couldn’t help but slope down against yours in order to reach your hair, and as you unconsciously wiggled beneath him at every futile attempt, you felt a hardness begin to grow and press up against your ass. 

A giggle couldn’t help but slip from your lips as you noticed, “aw, baby. I’ve missed you too,” you rolled your hips and offered him a purposeful grind, “you just gotta get me out of here and then I’ll let you do whatever you want to me… promise…”

But as soon as you’d intentionally rocked back against him, his grasp in your hair began to slacken and melt away till he let his touch travel down the slope of your spine, ghosting across your curves till his fingertips tickled along the bottom hem of your skirt. 

His warmth then disappeared from your frame as he sat back further behind you. Ever since you left your dorm room this morning, an excited spot bloomed and decorated your panties in anticipation of your sinful schemes, though now, hours later, the soaked patch that adorned the cotton that poked out from under your skirt, completely visible to the man behind you, had grown to a nearly embarrassing declaration of your desperation.

Slowly and almost hesitantly, he let his touch ghost over your covered core, catching you off guard by the tickling gentleness that your boyfriend hadn’t had to initiate with for the longest time as you’d both grown too comfortable with each other not to simply be bold in your actions, but this felt as if he was touching you for the very first time, as if he thought you were made of the purest porcelain. 

A heavy breath shuttered out of your frame as his light touch grazed over your covered core, slowly swiping up and down the drenched gusset. Eyes fluttering shut, you quietly joked, “you watch too much porn,” your words came out sounding hazy as the cliché fantasy got to you too, “if you really want to reenact this genre, then I’d much rather do the version with a washing machine and then just pretend that I’m stuck in there, that’s a much less dusty version, plus I wouldn’t actually be trapped.”

But as his tentative touch kept up, you couldn’t help but tilt back into it and feel yourself sink further into the ecstasy.

Soon his fingers hooked in the sliver of cotton as he tugged the gusset to the side, glistening strings of your want clinging to the fabric as he exposed your cunt to him, and as then his touch brushed over you without any barrier to dull the sensation, a breathy moan tumbled out of your lungs. 

Lightly, he rolled your puffy pearl beneath the rough pads of his fingers, the slick sounds of your nectar sloshing and echoing throughout the bedroom as he tickled at your core. 

And when his digits stopped resisting the tempting twitch of your entrance and they plugged it up so perfectly it made your toes curl, you soon found yourself moving even more desperately than his own efforts caressed you as you fucked yourself back onto his fingers in a rock so erratic that the movements ended up being your saving grace as your lock of hair pulled free. 

A dizzy smile found your lips as you finally regained the ability to shift your head without an excruciating sting ripping at your scalp. Though just before you reached your peak, you twisted your head to glance back over your shoulder. Your eyes swiftly widened and your efforts ceased as the man whose fingers were making your drooling pussy sing wasn’t who you had assumed. 

“O-oh fuck!” you quickly scrambled out from under the bed and jolted away out of pure shock as you came face to face with your boyfriend’s stepdad, “Mr Barnes!”

But just as his lips hesitantly parted in a reply, the front door downstairs slammed and caused you to shoot up to your feet, Bucky rising as well. With your chest heaving in your hazy periphery, you could barely think before your palms began to shove at the older man’s broad frame, till he crossed the threshold of the bedroom and his feet began to carry him the rest of the way down the hall till you watched from the doorway as he disappeared into a different room. 

And with the soft click of that door closing behind him, the creaking on the grand staircase suddenly ceased and your eyes snapped over to find Peter frozen at the top step. 

“Oh my god, babe!” he exclaimed, a wide grin swiftly warming up his features, “what are you doing here?” his feet shuffled towards you before his arms enclosed around your form, “why aren’t you at school? I thought you had exams till next Friday.”

Still in shock as you felt your pussy leak down your thighs, “I managed to get done early,” you tried to mirror your boyfriend’s smile as he pulled back to look at you, “surprise!” 

When you last year had found yourself a little internship at the most prestigious law firm in town, it hadn’t come as a surprise to you just how many of the middle-aged men working there shamelessly flirted with you as you brought them their coffees. However, what you hadn’t expected in the slightest was Mr Barnes. 

Though his attempts were much more subtle than the rest, they in no way had the same effect on you as they didn’t make you squirm as the others did, but instead every time you tip-toed past his corner office and he so much as offered you a glance, you felt yourself spiral into a blushing mess and morphed into nothing short of a flustered schoolgirl.

Numerous scorching trays of coffee were nearly dropped, sentences embarrassingly stumbled through, as well as many other minor casualties in the carnage created when the lawyer would flash you a rare smile. 

But when December rolled around, and you found yourself at the annual holiday party, you should have looked up when you sauntered up to him to wish him a merry Christmas, as the dried twig of mistletoe above was swiftly made more than apparent to the both of you as every inebriated colleague surrounding you both grew rowdy, pressuring you till your lips met one another. 

The kiss may have begun as forced and hesitant, but soon it morphed into something much stronger than anything they served at the open bar, causing you both to forget your own names as the buzzing party from around you melted away till it was just the two of you in the office. As the heated kiss broke and you remained incredibly close, blinking back at one another, a heavenly curve found your lips as he gazed down upon you as if he was mere moments away from tossing you over his shoulder and hauling you into his office to have his way with you, not caring one bit about the lack of privacy the fronted glass provided. 

But just as your heart swelled in your chest, rumbles in the crowd swiftly broke it into a million tiny little pieces.

“Oh damn! Interns, they’re trouble. Just don’t tell your wife, Barnes! I know you’re new to that whole concept, what–, has it already been a whole month since the wedding?” 

“Yeah, here’s a lesson for you,” a different man shouted through his laugh, “what happens at the office, stays at the office! Not really a good idea to take the fun and games back home to the missus.”

You almost quit a whole month before the opportunity was supposed to come to an end but couldn’t, as the mere thought of not seeing his face every day any longer somehow shattered your heart even further. 

But one day, as you felt yourself drowning in the torture, Peter, a guy close to your own age showed up in the lobby, waiting for someone he knew at the firm. As his wait drew out and the minutes neared an hour, every ounce of his attention remained glued upon you. In an effort to mend your own heart, you decided that flirting back with him wasn’t the worst method to test out. However, it wasn’t till you began to move on and you actually fell for the sweet guy from the lobby that your world came crumbling down around you. 

The first time that Peter had invited you back to his home, as soon as you walked through the door, the truth of the relation between your newly minted boyfriend and the man, who at that time hadn’t been your boss any longer for a few weeks, was instead tossed in your face like a bucket of ice water. 

Mr Barnes turned out to be the rich asshole Peter’s mom had fallen for earlier that year, the one he often couldn’t hold his own tongue to grumble about as he hadn’t yet warmed up to the new father figure in his life. 

And that was how you got stuck in the bittersweet reality you now lived in. There was no way you could end things with Peter as he was the most wonderful boyfriend you’d ever had and whom you’d genuinely grown to love. But that wasn’t the only reason why you couldn’t do it, since if you were to let him go, then you would also have to let go of Mr Barnes, even if he was just a harrowing haunting of a hopeless dream. 

The house was completely silent as every soul within it slumbered, everyone except for you as plain beige wrapping paper crackled gently beneath the silk bow you tightened over it. You’d slipped into an office, that stood on the opposite side of the upstairs to where the cluster of bedrooms were, to secretly wrap up the handful of gifts you’d hidden at the very bottom of the bag you’d brought with you.

Though just as you sliced a pair of scissors through the paper to cut off a piece for the last present, a small bump suddenly echoed throughout the dark home. 

Getting up from your makeshift workstation on the floor, you peeked out into the dim hallway. Your slow steps caused the floorboards to groan as you took a look around, even casting a glance down the staircase to the entryway that bloomed below, before the noise found your ears once more, snapping your attention to somewhere deeper down one of the shadowy corridors.

Your heart thumped in your chest as you crept closer to the latch you now noticed was open. Ladder unfurled, the abyss of the attic loomed above you and sent a shiver down your spine. 

But then as a broad figure suddenly appeared in the opening, you couldn’t help but let out a shuttering yelp, even after you’d recognised the man whom your sudden shriek startled. 

“Mr Barnes!” your palm soared up to your pounding heart, “I thought you were a ghost or a burglar or something! What in the world are you doing up there?”

Ascending the ladder, you noticed the heavy box he balanced in his arms, “I was just getting some decorations for the tree,” he huffed as you caught your breath, reminding you of the still bare pine tree that stood down in the living room. 

“Right, I forgot that’s the plan for tomorrow,” you murmured as you spun around on your heel. Though as you entered the office once more, a glance over your shoulder led you to discover his shadow, “what are you doing?” you asked in a small voice as he followed you into the room. 

“This is my study,” he tilted his head as if that was common knowledge. 

“Oh,” you breathed, “I didn’t know,” and glanced down at the gifts you’d left on the floor, “sorry, I’ll go somewhere else.”

But just as you bent down to gather up your supplies, his deep voice crackled from behind you, “no need, make yourself at home,” he sat down the box before rummaging through it, taking out a few of the delicate ornaments before only tangles of twinkle lights were visible in the container, “I’ll only be a second.” 

Kneeling down beside the electrical socket closet to the door, he then began to check all of the lights, one by one, making sure none of the tiny bulbs were dead. 

And as you returned your hazy attention to the last of your remaining gifts, Mr Barnes then once again filled the silent office with his low tone, “…look, I–…” he hesitantly started, keeping his ocean stare glued to the ground, “you deserve an apology,” he exhaled heavily, “I don’t know what came over me earlier. It was wrong, completely inappropriate, and I can’t believe I let it happen.”

Blinking up at him as he refused to lift his gaze, a quiet, “oh…” shuttered out past your lips as his apology only broke your heart further. It, of course, hadn’t been ideal the way that he’d taken advantage of the unfortunate situation he’d found you in, but that doesn’t mean it hadn’t been a dream come true for you, complicated as it may have been. 

“Kiddo,” he sighed, “I understand completely if you don’t wanna spend Christmas here anymore. You just say the word, and I’ll make the arrangements for you to go back home.”

“Is that what you want?” you heard yourself utter, “for me to go?” 

Finally meeting your gaze, a crinkle found his dark brows, “…what I want can only cause harm…”

As you lost yourself in the ocean of his blue eyes, you whispered almost dreamily, “…do you still remember?” you felt your lips tingle at the memory as you slowly rose back up to your feet, “because up till today I had convinced myself that you were too drunk that night to recall…”

Shifting his gaze, Bucky then let out an exhale, “kid…” the single syllable carrying a gentle whisp of warning. 

“Or is it just normal for you to kiss interns under the mistletoe,” you couldn’t help but go on, “especially like that?”

“No,” he finally murmured as his head found a slow rock from side to side, “it isn’t,” though swiftly met your stare to caution, “and I’d hold my tongue if I were you before you say something that you shouldn’t.”

“Like what?” you breathed, “the truth?” 

“Stop,” he squeezed his eyes shut as his head faintly shook, “you’re my stepson’s girlfriend.”

“That’s true…” you averted your gaze to where your fingers were fidgeting with the hem of your skirt, “but he wasn’t the one that I fell for first… the one that I still can’t seem to get over…”

Your eyes then found one another for a split moment, locking with each other for a single breath before Bucky’s feet began to shift and he crossed the room. Catching your face in his wide palms, he then crashed his lips against your own. 

Your heels instinctively levitated off the ground, lifting you up closer to his towering height as he kissed you like he’d just come home from some mystical war. 

A sigh softly seeped out of your nose and tickled the grey that speckled his beard as you felt his starved tongue silkily sweep against your own. 

But just as the intoxicating taste of him weakened your knees, he tilted his chin and cut the kiss short. Blinking up at him as he kept your jaw in his grasp, you breathed, “Mr Barnes–”

“What the fuck am I doing–,” a faint whisper seeped through his sigh, “I’m going to hell for this…”

“So then stop,” the sound of your small voice beckoned his gaze to find your own, “if you don’t want me the way that I want you,” your fingers tangled in his tie, “just stop and go back to bed with your wife…”

“…I didn’t–…” he hesitantly began, “I didn’t expect to meet someone like you, especially not right after I’d gotten married,” his eyes stayed locked with your own, “I thought I’d finally figured it all out, and then there you were, all fresh-faced, sticking out like a sore thumb among all the suits…” the corner of his lips briefly twitched into a faint smile at the memory, “you turned my world upside down,” his fingers on the side of your face flexed gently as he uttered that declaration, “after you stopped working there, I–… I damn near almost quit myself… but then Peter brought back his new girl, and seeing you again, even if it was just a glimpse every once and a while, it was like I could breathe again.” 

Blinking up at him, dizzy from his honied words, your fingers tangled in his tie, then tightened, and you tugged him far enough down for your lips to lock once again.

Swiftly, his feet began to absentmindedly shuffle till your hips bumped into the edge of the polished desk that stood in the middle of the office. The bundle of forgotten Christmas lights were still glowing on the floor by the ajar door as your boyfriend’s stepfather let his broad hands scoop down over your body and pluck you up to sit on the table. 

It was the hold that you still had around the silky accessory knotted around his neck that caused him to slot in between your parted thighs, just a little tug was all it took for your knees to be needily grazing against his sides. Pulling on the tie, your lips didn’t stray from one another’s for but a moment as you undid the knot, let the fabric slip out from under his collar and tumble down onto the floor below. 

Though when his smouldering touches finally came to ignite against the softness of your tits through your sweater, a whimper tumbled out of your lungs and melted against his tongue, only narrowly getting muffled by his kiss as the sound threatened to fill up the entire room.  

“Shh,” he barely withdrew to hush, only tilted his head to catch a different angle before he dove back into your sweetness. 

“Sorry,” your murmur swiftly got swallowed by his pecks. 

But when his hands continued to rake across your form, making you feel like a flicking star that shot across the night sky, as his grip came down to dent your ass, it wasn’t just a soft whine that crawled up your throat, but a full on moan, as the manner he’d squeezed your curve had sent a tingling bolt straight to your throbbing clit. 

“You gotta be quiet.” 

“Shit,” you cursed as you heard it yourself, “sorry, sorry.”

This time you truly did try to keep your mouth shut, consciously biting your tongue as his burning hands nearly singed the clothes from your frame, but when his palm eventually snuck up the short hem of your skirt and slipped off the soaked panties that clung to your core, the sound that forced its way out of your body when his touch finally grazed through your dripping folds echoed into the night. 

And as soon as the moan tumbled off your lips, Bucky’s hand rapidly vanished from between your quaking thighs as he took a large step back. 

“You’re killing me here,” he groaned as he reached the opposite side of the room to plant his inked palm against the open door, shutting it as he leaned his weight into it, “you’ll wake up the whole house,” the fingers still clutching your underwear caught the lock and flicked it to the side. 

“I’m sorry,” you dug your nails into the polished wood you were balanced on, “I swear I’m trying to be quiet, I really am.”

“Well, not good enough,” he glanced back over his shoulder at where you sat before his vision flickered down to land upon the ribbon only half tied around the last of the presents you’d wrapped. His expression then softened as he slowly picked his stride up once more, “…but, I think I might be able to help…” on his way to where you were seated, he bent down to snatch up the loose strand still not fastened around the wrapped box, and when he stood before you once again, Bucky’s gaze fluttered to your mouth as he then uttered, “open up,” before you parted your lips for him. Your eyes swiftly grew as he first fed you the cotton of your panties before he wrapped the emerald silk ribbon around the stuffed opening and tied it off at the back of your head, “there,” he purred as he pulled on the small bow at the nape of your neck, “that’ll shut you up. Now where were we? Right! It was somewhere around here,” his word was emphasised by his touch as it slipped back up under your skirt, though this time when the broad pads of his fingers slipped through your glistening petals, your purrs were completely muffled against the makeshift gag. 

As his touch tickled at your core and caused your legs to quiver at either side of him, his face stayed close to your own, nose denting your hot cheek as his breath fanned against your skin. He even stayed that close as he began to strip you of your clothing, tossing it all to the floor till you were sitting before him wearing nothing but the bow he’d tied himself to keep you quiet.

Though as you shifted to mirror his actions, he stopped you just as you caught onto the zipper of his pants. 

“Na-ah-ah, kid,” he backed up just enough for the palpable tent in his trousers to disappear from your palm’s reach, “keep your hands to yourself. Be good, and then you’ll get your present.”

However, his whispered warning didn’t sink into your senses enough as barely any time passed before you stopped fighting the urge to touch him again. 

“What,” his chuckle washed over you as he captured your gaze, “don’t tell me you need to be tied up too?”

That notion sent a shiver down your spine before a smile poked out behind your gag as you playfully shrugged, your apparent approval causing Bucky’s light laugh to reappear in a second wave. 

Spinning around, the older man before you then grabbed the cord of glowing lights on the floor before stringing it along to where you were planted. First, he wrapped the vibrant strand of tiny bulbs around your wrists, tying them together in front of your body, before he tangled the remainder of the length around your torso, over your arms and all the way down to your waist. 

As he took a step back to admire his handiwork, that’s when he finally freed his dick, letting it spring forth from his pants as his stare licked up your bound visage. The strokes he swiftly offered himself were long and slow, making you press your thighs together as you watched, a yearnful whine vibrating against the cotton stuffing up your mouth. 

“Aw, do you want my cock?” he mocked as your constricted fingers instinctively tried to reach out for him. Closing the gap between you once again, with one hand, he scooped you closer to both the edge as well as the throbbing girth heavy in his palm, “you want this dick, huh?” he smirked before brushing the bulbous head through the drooling mess between your thighs. 

Your eyes fluttered as he nuzzled his hardness against your buzzing clit, though he somehow kept your stare captured in the intenseness of his own as he dragged the tip through your petals, making them part for him. It seemed like ages that he went between teasing your leaky entrance to sweeping up and flicking at your puffy pearl, though gradually each time he’d near your little hole, crying out for him to sink into, he dipped inside just a tiny bit, each time granting you more of his length till his heavy balls were nuzzled against your slick skin. 

His lips pressed against your cheek, kissing it softly as his girth split you open. A slick symphony echoed throughout the room each time his hips slammed against your own, and as your own cries were hushed, it was only the sinful sound of that, as well as Mr Barnes’ heavy breath and the occasional suppressed groans, that filled the office and lulled you into nothing short of a trance. 

With Bucky’s left hand that he had weaved into a clutch at the twinkle lights tangled at your front, the colourful glow illuminated the dark tattoos that marked up the back of it and caught your hazy gaze as he then tipped you over and layed you back down against the desk, his ruthless rhythm never faulting for a second. 

And as you layed there before him, the both of you creeping ever near to that inevitable end, you watched as his eyes drifted down your frame. From where the string of lights squished against the softness of your boobs, to where he spread your thighs apart further, letting him spot just how perfectly his fat girth sank into you, till finally settling on the dull bulge just above your glistening pussy. The imprint of his daunting size rocking within you, illuminated just sufficiently enough by the string of glimmering lights for his eyes to spot, bloomed a bright grin on his features and caused his hips to snap, feverously slamming his cock so deep inside of you that the tightly wound coil within you had no other choice but just to let go in a burst of vibrant hues. 

Once his length was throbbing inside of you and pumping you full of his cum, breathlessly he removed the gag, though barely let you fill your lungs with air before he locked his lips against your own, both of your smiles blurring the kiss with giggles as you made out sweetly. 

As Peter’s figure appeared behind you in the doorway to the little bathroom that shot off his room, his frame abrupted the bright morning light that streamed in through the window. 

Still only clad in a borrowed shirt, the hem rose up as you bent down over the sink to spit out the toothpaste foaming in your mouth, but just as you did, a quiet click revealed your boyfriend’s presence behind you. 

Peeking over your shoulder, you spotted the Polaroid camera, that you’d remembered to bring from your dorm room, firm in his grasp. 

“What are you doing?” you muttered as you rinsed off your toothbrush. 

“Just growing my collection,” he smiled, leaning against the doorframe as he wafted the small photo the camera had spit out. 

“Hey, I brought that for capturing memories,” you snatched it back as you passed him, “not using all the film for nudes,” before bending down and stuffing it back into your bag. 

The lump of guilt that ached in your chest nearly persuaded you to spill everything to Peter long before you both got dressed and descended the stairs. 

Should you even tell him what had happened and hope for the best or had you just backed yourself into a corner so impossible that you had no other choice but to break things off with him? If that truly was so, then you couldn’t do it yet, not now, at least wait until January if that was the only option. 

Though as soon as you both entered the kitchen, the visage of Bucky fiddling with the coffee machine caused the unbearable knot to slowly melt away the longer that you gazed at him. 

“Hi Honey,” Peter’s mother came sauntering in from the dining room and flashed her son a smile before diving into a drawer for some cutlery on her mission to set up the breakfast table, “did you two sleep well last night?” 

“Yeah, I was out like a light,” your boyfriend uttered before his glance flickered to you, “this one however didn’t come to bed till really late.”

“Oh, did you have trouble falling asleep?” his mom found your eye. 

“Uhm, no,” your glance momentarily flickered to the broad back before the coffee machine, “I just–, uh, I was wrapping presents. Hope it’s okay that I borrowed some paper and stuff.”

“Of course,” she smiled, “if you want a caffeine boost, there’s a fresh pot of coffee,” and nodded in the direction of her husband, “and the mugs are up there.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but I’m actually more of a tea drinker.”

“Well, we have some of that as well,” she tilted her head before crossing into the dining room once again, “take a look in the pantry.” 

Slipping down the narrow path between the central kitchen island and the line of counters, your body brushed against Bucky’s as you passed before crossing into the small storage room. Though as your gaze scanned the stocked shelves before you, a crinkle found your brow. 

“Wait, where is it?” your quiet voice seeped out of the pantry. 

“Up over the shelf where the cans are,” Peter tried to guide you before his stepfather shot him a glance. 

“I’ll help,” he murmured, “she’s probably too short to reach it anyway.”

You didn’t even have to peek over your shoulder to find out he was there as just the warmth of his presence radiating off of him was enough to cause your eyes to flutter closed and your lungs to be filled with a deep breath. Though when he pressed his wide frame against your spine, his low exhale seeping into your soul, a dull throb between your thighs bloomed as an underlying beat to his palms he then let glide over your waist before one shot up to tilt your chin and he craned his neck to plant a kiss to your lips. 

“Did you find it?” Peter’s voice from on the other side of the thin wall caused you to fumble away from his stepdad, nearly knocking over half the contents on one of the shelves at the jolt. 

“Yep! Yeah!” you squeaked, scrambling before Bucky reached above you, plucked a small box off a shelf, and placed the random tea in your fumbling hands, “I’ve–, uhm, yeah!” before you shuffled back out into the kitchen, “water, water…” you murmured as your eyes scanned the space. 

“Over there,” your boyfriend nodded to the electric kettle in the corner before he carried the stack of plates in his hands into the dining room. 

And as you boiled the water and brewed the tea, every chance Mr Barnes got to follow his heart, he grasped with both of his fists. If the others had momentarily stepped out of the room, or even if they’d just turned to face away, there he was at your side, suddenly much closer than what was appropriate for a parental figure of one’s partner to be. If he had the time, his touch would sneak down to tickle you over your clothes, or occasionally his lips would even find your neck and make you too dizzy to even care how risky his behaviour was.  

It even continued long after you’d joined the rest at the dining table as the last two seats remaining were slotted right next to one another, though this time, now that he had the table as a cover, the cocky bastard let his hand grow even more daring than before. 

When his touch teasingly travelled up your thigh before boldly darting straight to his goal and making you nearly choke on your herbal tea as he pressed down on the seam of your jeans, rubbing your throbbing clit through the rough fabric.

“Are you alright?” Peter’s mother cut off what she’d been blabbering about as you almost spit out the hot beverage. 

“Mhm,” you hastily nodded, attempting to keep a straight face as Bucky’s inked fingers kept up their bullying between your thighs, “just burned my tongue,” the mug met the table in a soft thunk, “I’m fine,” you breathed shakily and kept your gaze glued to the piece of toast on the plate before you. 

“Oh, well, blow on it next time,” she said before returning to the topic the secrets beneath the breakfast table had interrupted, “so, what do we think,” she sank her fork into a piece of orange, “should we head off to the Christmas market today or do that a different day?” 

The scent of warm spices wafted through the air from the cluster of booths, selling every scrumptious festive treat imaginable, right next to the windy entrance to a pen where children could ride some sturdy ponies from a local farm. 

“What if we all split up for a while?” Peter’s mother suggested as you all eyed the handcrafted goods displayed by the many snow-dusted stalls, “I know I may or may not have already spotted a few things I wanna buy in secret.”

“Good idea,” your boyfriend nodded as he let go of your mitten-clad hand, “should we meet back here in, what–, half an hour?” he gestured up to the grand Christmas tree, glowing in the centre of the market. 

“Sure,” Bucky’s voice rumbled, “then we can grab a bite afterwards.”

His stolen touches hadn’t become less bold after you’d left the house. From purposefully letting his palm graze against your boob when he’d helped you reach for your seatbelt in the car, to the numerous times at the market he’d yanked you around the corner of a rustic booth to steal a kiss. 

“You know,” Bucky’s voice suddenly tickled the shell of your ear as he found you standing before the line of small children, all waiting for a chance to meet the market’s Santa, “when I get you alone,” he whispered as your eyes lingered on the elderly man in the distance, all clad in red, “you can sit down on my lap and tell me what you want for Christmas…”

“Oh yeah?” the corners of your lips tipped up into a smile, “will you also ask me if I’ve been naughty or nice?”

“Well, I already know the answer to that,” he chuckled before twisting you around to face him. 

The gentle giggle that billowed out from your lungs was swiftly silenced as the older man bent down to press a kiss to your lips. 

“Wait,” you suddenly pushed him back as the exposed nature of where you stood sank in, “not here,” and your eyes swiftly darted around the crowd in hopes that they wouldn’t land on anyone you knew, “someone might see.”

Snatching up his hand, you then tugged him with you as you crossed over the small square. Passing by a small ice-skating rink, your snow-crunching steps eventually led you into the maze-like wonder that was the Christmas tree lot. 

Soon, the make-out that blossomed between the dense pines snowballed into you on your knees, on the cold and needle-covered ground, with Bucky’s girth twitching in your grasp as you tilted your head to plant a sloppy trail of pecks down his heavy balls. 

If he hadn’t riled you up all morning, then you probably wouldn’t have desperately kneeled down before him in the middle of a crowded space, just because he’d made your brain melt so fiercely that your mouth itched to be used. That or perhaps you would still have found your way here on your own if he hadn’t given you a push, after all, it had been you who had simply told him to be on lookout before you snatched off one mitten, sank down in front of him and, without any further warning, freed his fat cock. 

As you let go of his sack with a pop, before you could crane back up to swallow his length, Bucky briefly bent down to steal a sloppy kiss before letting you get back to it, though when he broke the peck, a string of saliva keeping you connected a moment as he straightened back up, a soft frown tainted your features as you blinked up at him. 

“You stole all my spit,” you pouted as his lavish tongue had managed to lick up most of the gathered slickness you’d wished to glisten up his dick with. 

“Sorry,” a soft chuckle rumbled within his broad chest as he bowed down to grasp your chin. Prying your lips apart, he then let a dollop of his own saliva drop down and land upon your silky tongue. 

A gentle smile tugged at your lips as they wrapped around his thick girth. Marvelling up at him as you found a playful pace, he only granted himself a rare peek between his neck twisting from side to side, vigilantly keeping an eye out as you sucked him off. 

“Fuck,” he groaned as your drool gurgled up your bobbing. Lips ever parted, his fingers sneaked down to tangle themselves in your hair, “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this,” he slowly brought your head back till only the tip stayed warm within your mouth, “though knowing you, you probably wouldn’t even pause if someone actually did wander this way,” a short hiss of pleasure flowed out of his lungs as your tongue silkily traced the bulbous head, “even if it was your little boyfriend, you’d probably just yank down his fly so you could choke on his cock as well…”

Squinting up at the dried orange slices strung up and decorating the living room window, you let out a contemplating hum before it morphed into an idea, “we could watch a movie?” 

“Ah,” Peter exhaled next to you on the couch, “I don’t know… what if we went for a walk? It just stopped snowing.”

“No, I don’t really have the energy left for that,” you shrugged, “plus it’ll be dark soon… I kinda just wanna take it easy the rest of today and eat as many of those cookies your mom’s baking while they’re still hot.” 

Glancing over his shoulder at the doorway leading into the kitchen, Peter then nodded, “alright, sure. We could put on some music or something.” 

“Uh!” an idea then stuck you and lit up your gaze, “and we could play a board game, or even better, do a jigsaw puzzle! Do you think you have one?” your body tilted a bit closer, “you have one, right?”

“I think we have more than one,” he cocked his head and got up from the couch, “how hard do you want it?”

“Pretty hard, but also not like impossible,” you breathed, “it would be nice if we finished it before the new year.”

“Alright, I’ll go find one,” his feet began to drag across the hardwood floor, “you go gather provisions. I think I just heard the timer in the kitchen go off.”

A gasp swiftly flowed out of you as you rushed to rise to your feet, “cookies!” before you darted along, leaving Peter to a soft chuckle as he went out into the entryway and popped open the large closet. 

Though as he slipped inside and shifted to switch on the lightbulb dangling above, near the top shelf that carried all of the games, his elbow collided with a few of the coats on the row of hangings off to the side, unfortunately knocking some of them to the ground. Among the casualties were both yours as well as Bucky’s, though when the jackets came tumbling down, a few items also came pouring out of the pockets. 

Glancing down at the polaroids at his feet, even though the backsides were staring up at him, Peter still assumed that they’d fallen out of your pocket. Plucking them up into his grasp, a smirk swiftly curved his lips as he flipped over the short stack to reveal the familiar visage of your nude form. And the deeper into the small pile he got, the more explicit they became. 

But when he reached one that captured you lying on your stomach and with your lips wrapped around a cock, the smile swiftly faded from his features as he caught sight of the hand that reached down from behind the camera to stroke your hair. His hand certainly didn’t have either a wedding ring nor a chillingly familiar tattooed pattern scrawled upon the skin. 

And as he shuffled the deck to reveal the last photo, his suspicions were confirmed as he was confronted with the visage of his stepfather railing you against the sink in the upstairs bathroom. The camera was in his one hand as he held your hazy gaze in the mirror, while the other one curved around to capture your tit, the soft peak decorated in droplets as you stuck out your tongue and let your drool drip down. 

And though confusion, rage and jealousy were the cocktail of emotions to first take over his body, the palpable tent in his jeans beckoned for his attention too and convinced him to take care of it, blindly pumping his dick till his load coated the photos in his palm. 

“Fuck…” he hissed as his stare stayed glued to the cum covered pictures, “…I guess I’ll need to have a little talk with my stepdad…”

“The whole house all to ourselves… however shall we pass the time?” 

Your giggle bounced off the kitchen tile as you hopped up to sit upon one of the counters, only moments after both Peter and his mother had driven off to do some last-minute holiday shopping. 

Leaning back against the kitchen island, Bucky crossed his arms over his burly chest and smiled, “I have a feeling that we’ll think of something to do.”

And that was how you ended up moaning on either sides of the kitchen. 

Though he only loosened his tie, popped open the first few buttons of his shirt and undid his belt to free his cock, you tore off everything except for the red lingerie your clothes unwrapped for him to see and led him to beg for the sheer mesh to stay clinging on your skin while you let your fingertips dip into the waistband. 

But before either of you could finish, the older man snatched you off the counter and hauled you into the living room. 

And as you both stood there, his arms around you keeping your dizzy form upright as he kissed you feverishly, his head then tilted back, a blooming smirk on his lips, before he uttered, “I have an idea…”

The idea in question involved his silky tie being secured over your eyes, a proposal you of course jumped at to outlive. 

Though as you stood there, one of your senses dulled as Bucky’s touch fluttered across your form, the smattering of pecks and caresses had you floating away to some far-off realm. In the blissful fog of it all, you lost track of his touch and swore on occasion that it didn’t add up, as sporadic kisses were planted in places not plausible from where you thought he stood, or his wide hands even seemed as if they weren’t just one pair. 

And as you tried to connect the dots, your fingers fluttered up to push the makeshift blindfold up to your forehead, and the visage that met your eyes promptly caused them to grow wide. 

“Peter!” you gasped as you came face to face with not only Bucky, but also your boyfriend, “I–, I–”

“Hey babe,” he simply breathed as both his own and his stepfather’s touch faded from your half-naked form. 

“Peter,” your heart hammered in your chest as tears began to blur your vision, “I am so so sorry. I–, this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh yeah? So you’re not sneaking around with my stepdad behind my back?” he kept your gaze captured in his, “baby, it’s–,” a sigh broke up his sentence, “I was about to say that it’s alright, but–,” a dry chuckle then bubbled out of his throat as it obviously wasn’t okay, before he then shook his head and got to the point, “we had a little chat, Bucky and I.”

“…you did?” you finally shifted your glance and let it flicker to Mr Barnes. 

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, “we came up with a little arrangement so that we’d all get what we want.”

“So now all you gotta do is just tell the truth,” Peter’s fingers floated up to tug a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “did you just use me to get to him? Was anything about our relationship real?” he asked in a soft and sombre tone. 

“It was, it is,” you swore as you raised up your own palm to graze over his that still lingers by your jaw, “I may have lied to you about certain things, but my feelings for you were never one of them.”

“Okay…” your boyfriend’s head slowly began to rock in a nod. As he let you lace your fingers in with his own, another question left his lips, “so, do you think that heart of yours is big enough for the both of us?” 

Your vision then widened before it shifted between both of the men standing before you, “…are you suggesting–”

“Only if you want to,” Bucky tilted his head and awaited your answer. 

“I–,” you gasped as a grin slowly grew upon your lips, “oh my god!” and an uncontrollable laughter bubbled out of you. 

“Is that a yes?” Peter asked, his hand still in yours. 

“Yes! Yes, of course, it is!” you beamed before throwing your arms around him and crashing your lips against his own, only moments before you shifted to mirror the action with the older man still by your other side.

And as the kiss you pressed to Bucky’s lips stretched and drew out, it suddenly broke when he abruptly tossed you down to lay across the plush couch behind you. As he slotted in between your parted thighs and clutched the red mesh to the side in order to finally grant himself some of the sugar you’d teased him with moments before, your head sloped over the armrest before Peter appeared above you and bent down to claim your lips in a kiss to muffle the whine that flowed from them just as his stepdad stretched your open. 

Momentarily, Bucky plucked your hips up off the couch and drove them to meet his own, fucking you like a toy, before he let you drop back down and joined you on the sofa. 

And as the older man between your thighs spread them wider and granted himself the perfect view of how his staggering girth disappeared in your fluttering pussy, your boyfriend above you slid a hand under your head and tilted it closer to the length throbbing in his fist. 

Tapping his cock against your moan, it didn’t take long before he was buried in your mouth, each greedy thrust bringing him further down your throat till the imprint of his cock bulged in your neck. 

“That’s impressive,” Bucky commented on the way the younger man fucked your face, “why haven’t you shown me that party trick yet?” he hummed as Peter roughly yanked his dick back out and granted you the chance to catch your breath. 

Seizing the moment, Bucky flipped you around before your mouth could be filled once again, tossing you onto your knees and letting your forearms crash to the armrest, your head nearly falling face-first into Peter’s lap, lending him to catch you as he flashed the man behind you a grin, “you know that she does anal too, right?” 

A low groan then flowed from Bucky’s lungs as he let his broad thumb sweep across your little rosebud, “does she now…”

“Yep,” Peter grunted proudly, “she might even let us fuck both of her pretty holes at once if we’re real nice. She’s let me do that before with toys.”

“Of course she has,” Bucky chuckled lowly as he eased his fat cock back inside, “what do you say, kid? It is Christmas after all, I think we deserve something special.”

“I–, uhm,” you tried your best to answer him through the ecstasy they tossed you into, “sure.” 

“Attagirl,” Bucky croaked as his heavy balls tapped messily against your puffy pearl, “do you wanna pick who gets what honour?”

But before you could squeak out an answer, Peter instead uttered, “or we could make it a game, let you try and guess,” as his touch travelled up to tug at the blindfold still resting atop your brow. 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[p3terparker]

𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝗲 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter wants to be babied.

𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k

𝗮/𝗻: hey guys!! it has been nearly a year since i’ve last written and i just wanna say i’m sorry for leaving for so long </3 please do bear with me, this may not be that good judging by how long it’s been since i’ve last written. i hope you enjoy though! also for everyone who has requested something, i haven’t forgotten about you! i’m getting to those soon :)

“please hold me” 

it’s nearly 1am and you’re sprawled out on your bed watching some random movie that was playing on tv. you’ve been up waiting for hours for peter to come by after patrol, and now he’s finally here sneaking in through your window.

“are you okay baby? you finished up pretty late” you question softly as you take off his mask and brush his hair out of his face.

“i’m fine. i just want you to hold me” he says tiredly and practically puts all of his body weight on you, causing you both to fall back onto your bed.

adjusting yourselves to get more comfortable, you’re now laid back on your pillow as you hug peters large frame while his face is nuzzled in your chest.

you two lay silently as you rub his back until you decide to break the silence.

“you know, you’re still in your suit. you’re getting my bed dirty.”

“you just want me to take it off so you can see me naked”

“you’re done” you say before attempting to push him off of you. peter quickly caught your hands before you could even try.

“how did you–”

“i’m spider-man, baby”

“clearly” you chuckle, referring to him still being in his suit.

“since you want to see me naked so bad, i’ll take it off” he groans as if it’s the hardest task in the world. “happy now?”

“very. now come lay back down”

you don’t have to tell him twice. he quickly gets back into the position you two were in before and enjoys the warmth and comfort you bring him.

“you’re so perfect petey, did you know that?”

“mmm” he groans into as he nuzzles his face further into your chest, enjoying the sudden compliment.

“i mean seriously. you’re so smart, so strong, so caring and so funny. you being handsome is just the cherry on top”

“stoppp” he whines. “i’m blushing.”

“okay fine, i’m done”

“nooo, i didn’t mean it! keep going please” he cries as he lifts up his head to look at you.

“you are truly such a big baby”

“i’m your big baby. now continue please, i love being praised by you.”

how could you deny him?

“i love how cute you are. you have the prettiest brown hair and eyes. your face is perfectly sculpted too. i don’t know how i got blessed with the most handsome boyfriend in the world.” 

“mmm” he groans again in complete ecstasy. hearing your compliments is like music to his ears.

“you’re so cute, i just want to squish your cheeks” you say before lifting his head up slightly and squishing his cheeks together.

you cannot believe he’s letting you baby him like this.

“aww petey, you’re so adorable” 

“thank you” he says with a pink tint on his cheeks as he rests his head on your chest again, suddenly feeling sleepy.

you two sat in silence for a few more minutes and he peacefully drifted to sleep.

you were definitely going to make fun of him for tonight in the morning.

[electrosuite]

aight so i recently learned that i think only like 30% of afab people orgasm with penetrative sex alone, so i was wondering if you could do something where fem!y/n has her first penetrative orgasm with peter? thanks!

warnings: swearing, descriptive sex, oral sex

word count: 1.8k

masterlist

Your body pressed between Peter and his bedroom door made your palms sweaty. He kissed you so much more gently and lovingly than anyone you'd ever been with, but he was so passionate about it.

He held your face in place with his hands to make sure you didn't go anywhere, and you gripped his sides to pull him in close.

In a split second, he scooped you up and wrapped your legs around his waist, his hands settling midway up the underneath of your thighs. You couldn't help but gasp at the feeling of falling onto his bed with him on top of you, bouncing a bit as you landed.

You adjusted the pillow under your head as his lips trailed down to your jaw and neck. His fingers pressed into your thigh, which was against his ribs.

You two had never been this intimate before. In fact, it was the first time you'd hung out while no one else was home. But, just to be safe, he still shut and locked his door. His Aunt May had a bad habit of walking in without knocking, so he made sure to take extra precautions.

So you were understandably beginning to get nervous. This wasn't your first time, but the first time with anyone was scary for you. You were more excited than anything.

You two had been officially dating for two months now, but you hadn't had any time to be alone together until now. So you had to take advantage of it.

You knew Peter was Spider-Man since the first week you knew each other. You came over to work on a group project that you'd been paired up on, and he'd accidentally left his mask out. He tried to play it off as being a "fan-made replica", but you saw right through that.

So it was no surprise when he swung over to your apartment and brought you back to his place today.

Peter reached up to his neckline and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor. You looked down and studied his body, noticing an almost healed cut right under his nipple, and you pointed to it.

"Does that hurt?"

He shook his head. "Only if I accidentally hit it." He didn't break eye contact as he slipped his fingers under your shirt, wordlessly asking for your permission to remove it.

Instead of answering, you reached down and took it off for him. Without hesitation, he leaned down and kissed your chest, simultaneously reaching under you and effortlessly unhooking your bra.

You pushed his hair off of his forehead, combing it backwards with your fingers.

To be completely honest, nipple play didn't really do anything for you, but you decided to let him do whatever he wanted to do with your breasts. You wanted him to enjoy himself as much as he wanted to make you feel good.

"Peter," you whispered, making his eyes glance up to you as he engulfed your nipple into his mouth and circled it with his tongue, letting go with a pop.

"Yeah?"

"I have to tell you something."

"Anything."

"Ugh... I don't even know how to say this."

"Just say it."

"I don't... finish with just sex."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, penetration? I can't get there with just that."

"What does get you there?"

"Oral, usually." As soon as you said that, he unbuttoned your shorts. "But you don't have to do that if you don't want to."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"A lot of guys don't like doing it. I don't want you to think you have to."

He slipped his hand into your underwear, his fingers immediately finding your clit. You gasped softly as he traced slow, torturous circles on your sensitive nub. "I'm not most guys."

"Clearly."

"Already so wet?"

"I know. It's my weakness," you breathed with a smirk.

He pulled his hand away and pulled your shorts and underwear off. You were completely naked, and you felt more exposed than you did with anyone else you'd slept with.

"God, you're so beautiful." You couldn't hold back a chuckle. "I mean it."

He returned to his original position on top of you, kissing you deeply. He slowly moved down your body, kissing your collarbones, then your breasts, then your sternum, and all the way down to the insides of your thighs.

Your hips were grinding on their own, begging for friction and touch in the place you needed his tongue most desperately.

And, as if he could predict the begging that was about to escape your mouth, the tip of his tongue pressed down onto your clit. Your eyes closed and you let out a satisfied moan.

His hands settled on your thighs, holding your legs still. His eyes stayed locked on your face even though he could barely see it due to your head being thrown back.

But he wanted to see you feel good because of his tongue. He needed to know he was doing something right.

Peter was better at oral than anyone else who had gone down on you. Usually it took a few minutes, but with Peter it seemed like it was going to take less than one. You worried it would be a turn off for him, that he'd think it was weird how quickly you came.

"Shit, Peter, I'm close."

He hummed in response, the vibrations of his voice helping you get there. His tongue was working rapidly, his jaw sore. He was doing his damndest to make you cum, to make your legs tremble with pleasure. And every second of listening to you moan and whine and every second of seeing you writhe and grind into his face only made him harder and harder.

The feeling of your orgasm building took your breath, and if his heightened strength wasn't keeping your legs exactly where he wanted them, your thighs would be squeezing the hell out of his face.

Your hands tangled themselves in his hair and pulled a bit harder than you intended, and the feeling of his voice vibrating through your body pushed you over the edge.

You went silent for a few seconds before gasping loudly, your hips coming off the bed for a few seconds before he pushed them back down to ensure your orgasm didn't end early.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you repeated quietly.

He let you cum for much longer than you usually let yourself cum when you masturbate, so it began to get overwhelming. When you lightly smacked his hand to tap out, he pulled away so suddenly that it made your body shake. He sloppily kissed your thighs as you calmed down, breathing heavily and keeping your eyes closed.

He traveled up your body, pushing your hair out of your face.

“Good?” he asked, pecking your cheek.

“Mhm.” You opened your eyes to look at him and you smiled at each other. “Condom.”

He kissed you once more before rolling off of you and walking over to his dresser. He dug one out of his sock drawer before tucking the box back under the socks.

You sat up and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, watching him walk over. He stopped in front of you and you undid his jeans, pulling them down. He stepped out of them and kicked them across the floor. He only had his boxers on, which had a good sized tent in them.

“Lay back down,” he gently commanded, which you did. He positioned himself between your legs once more, wiggling his way out of his underwear. You looked down to see what you desired most and your mouth watered.

Admittedly, he wasn’t the biggest you’d ever had, which was sort of a relief. You didn’t love huge dicks, and you weren’t sure anyone with a vagina did. You’d never had an enjoyable time with one, so you were glad you’d be comfortable with Peter. But he was still a good size, so you were still a bit nervous.

He slid the condom on with ease before leaning down and kissing you. You could feel him grinding into you, his length rubbing against where you were most sensitive.

Your legs wrapped around his thighs, your calves pushing his body into yours.

When he pulled away a moment later, he just looked at you.

"You sure about this?" You smirked at how concerned he was.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He tucked your hair behind your ear. "Just making sure."

"I want you, Peter. Please."

You reached down and wrapped your fingers around his dick, making him let out a small sigh. You guided him to your entrance and he thrust into you. Both of you moaned, relishing in the pleasure.

"Fuck," he whispered. You looked at his face, his eyes closed and jaw slack. He was so handsome, and the sight of him inside of you drove you mad. "You okay?"

You nodded. "So good."

He adjusted his position so that he could cup your face, holding it still and kissing you deeply.

He stretched you out so perfectly and your bodies and lips fit together like an intricately designed puzzle. The moans the two of you created were harmonious and melodic and they bounced off the walls.

He started out slow, almost painfully slow. You were burning for more, unconsciously using your feet to push his hips along.

"Am I going too slow for you, baby?" he whispered.

"Way too slow."

And with that, he pretty much doubled his speed. The sudden uptake winded you, a wanton moan tumbling from your mouth.

It didn't take long for you to feel that familiar sensation, but you weren't entirely sure if you were imagining it. You never came with just penetration.

"Pete," you whined, your voice shaky. He didn't answer, instead whispering 'Hm?' into your neck. "I think... I think I'm gonna cum again."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

He changed nothing, even though every fiber of his being wanted to go as fast and as hard as he possibly could. But you needed him to stay at this speed if you wanted to finish again.

And, less than thirty seconds later, his hand was over your mouth and tears welled up in your eyes. This was by far the most intense orgasm you'd ever had, and as soon as you started trembling he let himself go faster.

And, like something out of a movie, the two of you were cumming simultaneously. The feeling of you clenched down around him was what pushed him over the edge — it was too much for him.

When he finally stilled his hips, you both just laid there panting.

"Holy shit," you whispered, your eyes wide.

"Was that the first time you've ever done that?" You nodded. "Well, shit. Glad it was with me," he chuckled.

You pulled him back in for a kiss and his hand settled on your knee.

"Me too."

[cruel-seduction]

A World Without You

(Picture taken from Pinterest)

Pairing - Peter Parker x Female Reader

Genre - Angst 

Summary: When Peter Parker wakes up in a world where Y/N never existed, he thinks he's been given the gift of freedom—no one to put in danger. But as the emptiness of her absence consumes him, Peter begins to question the cost of his choice. How far will he go to bring Y/N back, and who—or what—was behind her disappearance in the first place? Can Peter undo the deal he made, or is he trapped in a world where love never existed?

Glimpse - He thought back to their last conversation, where Y/N had called him a "Nerd" for winning at chess everytime, to which he’d fired back, calling them "a hopeless case with zero taste in music."

Warnings: This story contains heavy angst and emotional distress, exploring themes of loneliness, guilt, and the consequences of difficult choices. It also includes elements of reality distortion and manipulation, which may be unsettling for some readers. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to intense emotional scenarios.

***

Peter Parker woke up with a start. His heart pounded in his chest, the remnants of a nightmare clinging to his mind like a fading mist. His body ached in places he didn’t know could hurt. The city skyline blinked outside his window as it always did, but something about the silence felt…off. He rubbed his face, trying to shake off the strange unease gnawing at his gut. It wasn’t unusual for Peter to wake up in a cold sweat after a brutal night of web-swinging, but this time was different. The feeling lingered like a whisper he couldn’t quite hear.

He groaned, rolling out of bed and pulling on a T-shirt. Maybe some breakfast would help clear his head. He padded barefoot into the kitchen, expecting to hear the familiar hum of Y/N’s terrible music playing in the background as they whipped up something quick before heading out. But the apartment was eerily quiet. Too quiet.

“Babe?” he called, only half-expecting a response. Silence. Peter frowned. It wasn’t like Y/N to leave without saying goodbye, even when they had early shifts. Maybe she’s at work already.

But the more Peter looked around, the more he realised something was wrong. The photos on the fridge—the ones of him and Y/N from their last disastrous attempt at a beach day—were gone. He checked the living room; no sign of Y/N’s jacket, their shoes, or the usual clutter that always accumulated near the door. Where the hell are they?

The sinking feeling in Peter’s chest deepened as he began to search the apartment. Their stuff was gone. All of it.

Peter’s mind raced. Has Y/N left him? No, that didn’t make sense. Things had been good between them. They always were, even when they fought. And their playful insults were never serious, just the way they communicated. He thought back to their last conversation, where Y/N had called him a "Nerd" for winning at chess everytime, to which he’d fired back, calling them "a hopeless case with zero taste in music."

But there was love in every jab, every joke. He knew Y/N didn’t mean any of it, and he didn’t either. It was their love language—twisting insults into affection in the way only they could. He could still hear their laugh in his mind, could still feel the way Y/N would poke him in the ribs after a particularly savage comeback.

But now, that warmth is gone. All of it.

Peter’s head was spinning. He pulled out his phone and quickly dialled Y/N’s number. The line rang once, twice, and then, “The number you’ve dialled is not in service.”

Not in service?

Peter’s stomach flipped. He called again, and the same automated voice greeted him. Panic rose in his throat. He rushed outside and knocked on the neighbour’s door.

“Hey, Mrs. Martinez, have you seen Y/N today? She—” Peter began, but Mrs. Martinez gave him a confused look.

“Y/N? Who’s Y/N?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Peter’s heart skipped a beat. “You know…my—my girlfriend? The person I live with?” he stammered, his voice unsteady. Mrs. Martinez’s frown deepened.

“I’ve lived here for twenty years, Peter. I’ve never seen you with anyone. You live alone.”

Peter’s world tilted. What?

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He tried to laugh it off, but the horror was sinking in. “You’ve—of course you’ve seen them, Mrs. Martinez. She is always around…”

But the older woman shook her head sympathetically, patting him on the shoulder. “You’ve had a tough week, sweetheart. Maybe you need to take it easy.” She retreated back into her apartment, leaving Peter standing there, frozen.

He sprinted back to his place, his thoughts racing. What the hell is going on?

He fumbled for his laptop, searching through his social media, his phone photos, anything—anything—that could prove Y/N existed. But there was nothing. Not a single picture, no text messages, no memories captured on his phone. It was like they had been erased.

Peter’s chest heaved with panic. This can’t be real.

But it was.

As the day dragged on, the nightmare didn’t end. It only got worse. No one—no one—remembered Y/N. Their friends, their coworkers, even Aunt May looked confused when Peter mentioned their name.

Peter slumped onto the couch, staring blankly at the wall. How is this happening? He gripped his head with both hands, feeling the weight of Y/N’s absence like a suffocating blanket. He didn’t know if it was magic, science, or something worse.

But the silence? The emptiness?

It was unbearable.

At first, he had thought maybe—just maybe—this was for the best. Y/N was safe, right? Without him in their life, without Spider-Man lurking in the background, they wouldn’t be in danger. They wouldn’t have to deal with late-night patch-ups, watching him stumble in bruised and bloodied, hearing him apologise over and over for missing dinner or forgetting plans because someone needed saving.

But this wasn’t peace. This was torment.

Peter thought back to the moments they’d shared, the playful insults and sarcastic remarks that only drew them closer. He remembered Y/N’s smile when they called him a "complete idiot" after he bungled a dinner reservation. Or the time he jokingly told them to "Haww!! You are only with me for that ass" when she tried to help him fix his suit and squeezed his ass in teasinf way. The way Y/N had thrown a pillow at his head, laughing the whole time.

He missed it. All of it. The teasing, the arguments, the late-night takeout dinners where they’d bicker about who had worse taste in movies.

And now…he had nothing.

Peter couldn’t stay here. Not in this reality.

The thought gnawed at him—how had he ended up here? He hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary. Sure, he’d been toying with new tech from Oscorp, but nothing experimental. Nothing that should have thrown him into some alternate dimension. Then, in a flash, a memory surfaced.

The last night he spent with Y/N before everything changed. A strange figure had appeared—someone with no face, no form, just a voice. A voice that had whispered to him about choices, about the dangers of loving someone so deeply while being Spider-Man. At the time, Peter had brushed it off, thinking it was just the stress talking, some weird fever dream. But what if…?

What if that figure had done this? Created a world where Y/N never existed?

Peter had to find answers. He had to get Y/N back. He couldn’t stay in a place where every corner, every sound reminded him of what he’d lost. The weight of their absence crushed him more each second.

As he sat there, planning his next move, Peter realised something chilling. The figure—whoever they were—had offered him a choice that night. A chance to live without burdening the people he loved with Spider-Man’s dangers. And in a moment of weakness, of exhaustion, maybe Peter had unknowingly made that deal.

But he hadn’t meant it.

Peter Parker was no stranger to guilt. He’d lived with it every day since Uncle Ben died. But this? This was different. This was the pain of choosing to save someone by erasing them entirely.

He couldn’t undo what had happened on his own. He needed to find the entity who had done this and force them to undo it. But first, he had to survive in a world that was a constant reminder of what he’d lost.

And that meant holding onto the memories of Y/N. The real memories.

He could hear Y/N’s voice in his head now: “Peter, you absolute dumbass, you know you can’t live without me, right?” He could imagine the smirk that came with it, the light in their eyes when they teased him.

“Yeah, well,” Peter muttered to the empty room, his voice cracking. “Turns out you’re right.”

Peter sat in the deafening silence of his apartment, his mind running in a thousand directions. Y/N was gone. No one remembered her, as if she'd never existed. And the only explanation he could cling to was that entity—that faceless, shadowy figure from the night before everything changed. A vague memory whispered at the back of his mind, telling him that he’d been offered a choice. But how could he have agreed to something so horrifying?

The truth, as much as it made him sick, was simple: Peter had been desperate. He’d been exhausted, weighed down by guilt and fear, always worrying about Y/N’s safety. Every time she patched him up after a fight, every time she stayed up late waiting for him to come home, Peter felt that gnawing fear that one day, she wouldn’t be there anymore. And for one brief, weak moment, the thought of her being safe—being away from Spider-Man’s world—had seemed like a blessing.

But he hadn’t realized the cost. Not like this. Not the emptiness.

Peter shot out of his chair, pacing the apartment as a plan started to form in his mind. He had to find the entity. That much was clear. This wasn’t just some glitch in reality; this was a deliberate choice—a deal made between him and something far more powerful. But if Peter had the power to get himself into this mess, then he had to have the power to get out.

First, he needed answers. How did he find the entity again?

Peter remembered that it hadn’t come from nowhere. The figure had appeared while he was messing around with Oscorp’s tech, but it wasn’t just any tech. It had been an experimental quantum destabilizer—a device meant to measure energy fluctuations between different dimensions. Harry Osborn had been talking about it for weeks, trying to figure out if they could tap into the multiverse for...who knows what. Science had never been Peter's strong suit, but he had a hunch that the entity had slipped through during one of those experiments.

Multiverse. The word hit him like a truck.

Was this even his universe anymore? Or was he trapped in another reality where Y/N had never existed?

Peter’s heart raced at the possibility. If Y/N was truly gone—not just from his life but from all universes—he might never get her back. But if she still existed somewhere, in some timeline, then Peter would burn through every dimension until he found her.

He knew the first place to start: Oscorp.

Later that night, after slipping into his Spider-Man suit, Peter swung across the city towards Oscorp Tower. It was late, the city’s streets quieter than usual, but Peter’s mind was anything but calm. He landed on the roof and quickly made his way inside, avoiding security cameras with the ease of someone who had done it countless times before.

The lab was exactly how he remembered it—rows of cold, gleaming equipment, the soft hum of high-tech machinery filling the air. But Peter wasn’t interested in the usual tools. He needed the quantum destabilizer.

Peter found it stashed away in a corner, covered in dust. He hooked it up to the main computer and started running a search for energy signatures. If that entity had come from another universe, there had to be some kind of residual trace left behind.

As the machine hummed to life, Peter’s thoughts drifted back to Y/N. Why had he said yes to losing her? In that moment, when the entity had whispered in his ear, offering him peace, safety, an escape from the constant fear of Y/N being hurt...he had caved. He’d thought it was a way to protect her.

But now he realized how wrong he’d been. Protecting Y/N wasn’t about keeping her away—it was about fighting alongside her, loving her despite the risks. Peter had always known that deep down, but fear had clouded his judgment. He’d chosen what he thought was the easy way out, but now he would do anything—anything—to undo it.

The machine beeped, jolting him from his thoughts. The screen flickered, showing a faint, pulsing signature. Peter’s heart raced as he recognized the same strange energy from that night. It wasn’t from his universe. The entity had come from somewhere else.

He plugged in the coordinates, knowing that if he followed the trail, it would lead him to the source—to the entity.

The next night, Peter swung through a dim, fog-covered alley deep in the city. The air felt thick, heavy with something unnatural. He could sense it—the same strange energy signature he'd tracked.

And then, like stepping through a veil, the air around him shimmered, and the entity appeared. A swirling mass of shadow, faceless and formless, its voice an eerie whisper that seemed to echo inside Peter’s head.

“You seek to undo what you asked for, Spider-Man?”

Peter’s jaw clenched. “You tricked me. I didn’t know what I was agreeing to.”

The entity’s voice hissed, low and mocking. “I offered you peace. I offered you freedom. You accepted.”

“I didn’t want this!” Peter shouted, his fists trembling. “I didn’t want to lose her! I—” His voice broke. “I love her.”

“Love is weakness,” the entity whispered. “It makes you vulnerable. It clouds your judgment. I gave you a world free from that burden.”

“Love makes me strong,” Peter said, his voice filled with determination. “I don’t want a world where Y/N doesn’t exist. I want her with me, in all her imperfect, wonderful chaos. And I’m going to fight you until you bring her back.”

The entity laughed—a sound that rattled the very air around him. “You think you can fight me, Spider-Man? I am beyond your comprehension. I am the architect of realities. I gave you a gift.”

Peter’s eyes hardened beneath the mask. “Then I’ll take it back.”

Without another word, Peter launched himself at the entity, his fists glowing with the energy from the quantum destabilizer. But the entity was fast, shifting and slipping through his grasp like smoke. Every time Peter thought he had it cornered, it would reform behind him, taunting him with whispers.

“You will fail,” it hissed. “I am all-powerful. You are nothing but a boy pretending to be a hero.”

Peter gritted his teeth, focusing on the entity’s movements. It might be powerful, but it had a weakness—every entity did. He just had to find it. And then, as the entity shifted again, Peter saw it—a flicker in its form, a moment where it hesitated.

That hesitation was all he needed.

Peter leaped into the air, firing a blast from the destabilizer at the exact moment the entity began to reform. The energy crackled, surging through the entity’s form. It screamed, its voice splitting the air like thunder. Peter didn’t let up, pouring everything he had into the attack. He thought of Y/N’s laugh, her smile, the way she called him out on his worst habits, the way she never let him get away with anything. All the moments they shared.

And then, with a final surge of energy, the entity shattered. The air around Peter shifted, reality bending and warping.

Peter collapsed to the ground, panting. For a moment, everything was still.

When he opened his eyes, Peter was lying on his apartment floor, the sunlight streaming through the window. His heart pounded in his chest. Was it real? Did he actually get her back?

“Peter? Why are you on the floor, you weirdo?”

His heart stopped. That voice—it was Y/N. He turned his head slowly, and there she was, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, holding a mug of coffee and looking at him with a raised eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Y/N…” His voice cracked as he scrambled to his feet, pulling her into his arms.

“Whoa, whoa!” Y/N laughed, clearly surprised. “What’s gotten into you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I thought I lost you,” Peter whispered into her hair, holding her tight as if she might disappear again.

Y/N snorted, pulling back to look him in the eye. “Lost me? Please, Parker. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not. Now, stop being a dramatic idiot and help me make breakfast,”

Peter laughed, a tear slipping down his cheek as he smiled at her. “You can call me useless all you want.”

Y/N gave him a puzzled look. “What’s gotten into you?”

Peter just shook his head, kissing her forehead. “I love you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Okay, now I’m worried.Is something wrong, babe?”

He laughed again. “Nah. Just…never leave, okay?”

Y/N smiled, her usual sarcastic grin lighting up her face. “I wasn’t planning on it. But you know, I could leave if you keep talking like a sappy idiot.”

“Shut up,” Peter muttered, pulling her closer. “I’m serious.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll stay,” Y/N teased, poking his chest. “But only because you’re the dumbest, nerdiest superhero I’ve ever met.”

Peter chuckled, finally feeling whole again. He had Y/N back. He’d fought for her, and now, he wasn’t letting go.

He never would.

[bxrbieq]

Sneaky - tasm!Peter Parker x f!reader

i’m back from the dead and been thinking about my fav spiderman

mdni 18+

Word count: ~400 (she’s short i know)

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, public/semi public sex, exhib, soft!dom Peter

The New York City subway was never your favorite way to get around. Swinging through the city in your boyfriend’s arms wasn’t very viable, you weren’t really prepared to go public as Spider-Man’s girlfriend. So here you two were, in the empty subway car leaning against each other with his hand on your thigh. 

Peter’s in your ear with his raspy low voice teasing you just a little about texts you’d sent him the night prior. You were worked up alone in your room, desperate to see him and touch him. And have him touch you. Everywhere. You felt the need to let him know, even if now he wasn’t letting you live it down. 

“So you want me to spank you, sweetheart?” He whispers right in your with a shiteating grin on his face. 

“Shut up, Peter.” You blush and shove him a little, not wanting to let that stupid sexy tone get to you. 

“I’m not making fun of you y’know… ts just what you said.” He chuckles and lightly rubs his thumb back and forth on your thigh. You feel yourself getting hotter. 

“I know what I said.”

“How you want me to play with your nipples while I pound you into your mattress? Or how you want me to suck your clit with my hands underneath you squeezing your ass? You gotta be specific, baby.”

His hand works up your thigh closer to your heat and you feel his hot breath on your neck.

“Peter, we’re in public.”

“There’s no one here, they aren’t exactly monitoring these cameras.” He’s still grinning as his hand slides to cup you over your pants. You're even wetter under his touch now and the whine you let out gives it away.

“You’re a perv.” 

“Only for you baby.” You blush and bite your lip. Peter’s hand makes its way under your pants to rub your clit over your underwear while he starts sucking on your neck. 

His long fingers move in perfect circles as you get closer to the edge. 

“You’re so good for me, letting me play with you where anyone could see us…” Increasing his pace, you feel your orgasm washing over you at his words while you let out a long whine. 

As he pulls his hand from your waistband, the train slows. 

“I think this is our stop.”

[berrieluv]

could u write a fic where peter and reader r having sex and he s rly rough but at some point he hurts her bc of his powers he got after the spider bite? and then he just takes care of her and its cute n soft <3333

Peter Parker x fem!Reader

cw. mentions of sex.

It didn't start as it usually did. Peter seemed eager, in a way he always is, but he's usually soft, gentle, your skin could burn for the way his body craved you.

Now it was burning because of his not so gentle touch. His fingers were now marked on your hips and his movements were faster, rougher.

You were enjoying yourself at the beginning, you really were. You liked this animalistic side of Peter, you liked the way he entered your through your room door, he tossed his backpack to the floor and got rid of his jacket, his glasses ended on your desk and now you were here.

Reaching what you thought was your third orgasm of the night? You couldn't keep track of it, not when your body was shaking and your pussy aching. Peter was usually good reading you, he knew when you wanted something and when you don't.

"Peter?"

You tried calling him, you wanted to tell you that the tears weren't from the pleasure, you wanted him to understand that the way that he called you a 'whore' made you so sad. You definitely weren't in the mood for any of this.

"Peter..."

You stay quiet for a few minutes until you felt him pulling out, you felt a weird relief, it was when he broke back that you felt you had enough.

You flinched at his touch, you pushed him away with your hands and pushed him further with your legs, he looked at you confused and he started to feel the guilt eating him alive when he saw your face.

"Baby..." You look at him, waiting for him to talk. You weren't mad at him, he may misread you but it wasn't like he purposely ignored your wishes. "Baby, what's wrong?"

You wanted to talk, to tell him what was wrong, that it was too much, he was too rough, he went too far.

"When did you get so strong?"

Of course the last thing you wanted was to make him feel bad, so you tried a subtly way. Peter froze, because he knew why he was rough, everything seemed to be too much, being Spider-Man, school, his only safe place in a whole city was you and he just wanted to forget.

He didn't address the question, instead he answered with another one;

"Did I hurt you?"

You nod slowly and watch as his face decomposes. He looks so sad and you feel so guilty, he just wanted to have a good time with you, with his girlfriend, and you were ruining everything.

"I'm sorry" you say first and he frowns.

"Sorry? Baby, no, I– I'm sorry, I'm the one who's sorry, I hurt you and I– God, I don't think I could ever forgive myself... I– " He opened his arms and you smiled lightly, finding your way to his chest "I'm usually so good at knowing when you want thing"

"It was one time"

"Never again, baby" He kisses your head "I'll be double checking on anything, and I swear... anything"

"S'alright, Pete"

"Kissie?"

[marvel-slutt]

Giggling and kicking my feet at this account. Can I request a Spider-Man 1 & 3 fic (Tom and Andrew) Where we are dating Tom's Peter Parker, yandere obsessive type Peters for both of them if possible, and when Peter 3 gets taken to the Tom universe, he sees reader who he let get away in his timeline. Anyways, 3 asks 1 if he can just have her for one night, and 1 agrees as long as they do it together. Some dub/con because reader did not know about this arrangement lol. Use of web shooters to tie up reader. Lots of praise, any positions you want just some good ole unprotected p in v, possibly mentions of forced breeding kink? Like both peters talking about how they secretly thought about it once getting powers. 🙏��

JUST ONE NIGHT?

tom holland!peter x andrew garfield!peter x reader

SUMMARY: when Peter 3 sees his love in another universe, what will he do to make her his if only for one night

WARNINGS: NON/DUB CON, FORCED BREEDING, BONDAGE(webs), UNPROTECTED P IN V, PETER 1 & 3 TAKING TURNS IN Y/N, PRAISE, HAIRPULLING, TINY BIT OF DACRYPHILLIA IF YOU READ BETWEEN THE LINES.

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

PLOT CHANGES: we’re gonna pretend that tobey’s spiderman peacefully left so we can focus on tom and andrew’s

A/N: i aint watched spiderman in a hot minute, so this is horrendously ooc 😭 tysm for the request, hopefully i did it well enough for your liking <3

MDNI, IF YOU READ THIS THEN ITS YOUR OWN FAULT AND NOT MINE

having peter as a boyfriend was everything you could dream of. he was loyal, protective, and maybe highly a little insane. but you loved him. however when another peter got tangled in the mix, it was even worse

your peter (peter 1) was like a territorial dog, always keeping an arm on your waist or a hand on the small of your back with a murderous glare at anyone who even thought they could try it on with you. this was mainly aimed at Peter 3 who - no matter how hard he tried - couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“she’s mine y’know. you gotta back off” peter 1 growled, keeping his voice low as to avoid awakening you. his eyes were narrowed in angry possession, hands balled in fists at his sides with his nails digging into his palms to try and prevent himself from swinging

peter 3 just stared back at him, hands raised in mocking surrender “look all i’m asking is one night with her, that’s it. i lost my Y/N, surely you can understand right? spidey to spidey”

peter 1 huffed and folded his arms over his chest, his murderous gaze not letting up. “one night, and we do it together. then you leave us alone, you go back to wherever you came from.”

this conversation happened around 20 minutes ago

“love, wake up for me” peter 1 murmured gently in your ear, not pleased about having to be slightly soft around peter 3 but he was never harsh towards you.

you slowly stirred awake, eyes fluttering open as you look up to see both peters with glazed over and sleepy eyes. before you could even question what was happening, peter 1 grabbed your chin and pulled you into a kiss.

your eyes closed as you kissed him back, tongues fighting for dominance in a battle that would inevitably end in your loss. his lips perfectly wove with your own whilst one hand tangled in your hair and pulled you closer, his other hand beginning to slide your pyjama pants down your legs

meanwhile peter 3 was watching, palming his hard length to the sight of you losing yourself in the kiss. harder than rock, he roughly continued whilst letting some low groans escape from between his slightly parted lips

peter one continued to kiss you, rubbing small but fast circles on your clit through that thin barrier of cotton. he relished in how you squirmed and writhed against him, drawing your pleasure out my occasionally slowing down just to tease you.

“peter,” you croaked out to your boyfriend through moans of pleasure. “we’re not alone, wha-”

“he’s joining in” your boyfriend says firmly, cutting you off before you could finish your sentence. “we’re both having you and then he leaves” peter 1 growls, shooting a glare over to peter 3

peter 3 was now full on tugging it, viciously stroking himself with a bruising grip, whilst softly grunting. he made eye contact with peter 1 and still didn’t stop “gonna let me take my turn?” he raised an eyebrow expectantly

“her mouth. all you’re getting” peter 1 replied, sliding a hand under your waistband and continuing to rub your clit.

“her cunt and then i leave.” the other man negotiates, continuing to stroke himself to the sight of you writhing against peter 1

“fuck, fine. but make it quick. bedroom.” peter 1 huffs, carrying you fireman style towards the bedroom. your ass stuck up in the air whilst he carried you, which was a sight that peter 3 couldn’t take his eyes off no matter how hard he tried

once in the bedroom, peter 1 stepped aside and gave peter 3 a nod to signal that he can begin. not wasting any time, peter 3 shot 4 webs at you. one on each wrist and ankle. he slid a pillow under your hips and looked down at you with a grin, his dick already throbbing with excitement

“so wet already huh? you’re gonna need it” peter 3 smirks before slowly burying himself to the hilt inside of your warm cunt. he gave you a brief moment to adjust before beginning to thrust, his hips slamming against yours in a feral and possessive manner.

“take it, be a good fuckin’ girl.” peter 3 grunts, his hand reaching over and tweaking one of your nipples, allowing it to pebble under his touch whilst he toys with it

you felt his dick kissing your cervix with every thrust, feeling him pull almost out before slamming back into you. he relished in the sight of how your tits bounced when he did that, how your whole body would move if not for the web-bondage he was using. the way he nudged your g-spot with every thrust, how his fingers pinched and twisted your nipples, it was all bringing you further and further to the edge. the familiar coil was tightening in your stomach, walls clenching around his dick as if greedily pulling him in.

“atta girl, cum on my cock for me.” peter 3 cooed as he continued everything he was doing. “gonna fuck you stupid, fill you with so much cum you’ll feel it for days after. hell, might even knock ya up if you plead hard enough”

his name tumbled from your lips in desperate and needy moans, babbling incoherently for him like some sort of cheap whore. your back arched with euphoria whilst clenching around his length, letting your cum practically coat him; all while your boyfriend was watching, palming and squeezing his own hardening cock whilst waiting for peter 3 to finish.

peter 3 finished almost instantly when he saw your own release, his long-awaited cum spurting out of his dick and flooding your cunt. you felt him fill you up practically to the brim and it was one of the best feelings.

peter 3 pulled out, but before you even had a chance to recover you felt the familiar feeling of peter 1 sliding into you, instantly and brutally fucking your already abused cunt; causing you to cry and whine with pleasure.

“think i was gonna let him breed ya? no. you’re mine, remember? gonna fill you with MY seed too, let you try and work out who’s it is when you’re knocked up” peter 1 muttered lowly and possessively, his thrusting into you in the rhythm he knew you liked

“we could do this all night, princess” peter 3 said cockily as he watched you getting dominated by peter 1. “both fuck you until all you remember is our name”

and the truth was: you’d let them go all night, and oh boy would this be a long night for you

A/N: I HAD SO MANY IDEAS BUT I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO WORD IT, I HOPE YOU LIKE IT THOUGH ^^

[nyeddleblog]

Unrequited. [Part 1]

Pairing: Andrew! Peter Parker x Fem!Reader. Warnings: Felicia Hardy, a little suggestive, interrupted. Summary: You're Peter Parker's roommate and you're so done with the amount of women that come into your apartment.

Chapter 1: Thin Walls.

"Please, please, please" he begged, hips jerking upwards as she let her hips grind against his. His eyes were hazy, lingering on the way her arms stretched, wrapping around his shoulders, "I promise to make you feel good, baby. Please, I need to feel you."

She left a kiss on his jaw, then another on his cheek, and when she reached the edge of his lips, he let out a whine that would have made him embarrassed in any other situation. Right then, however, it just made her let out a breathy laugh against his mouth and he could feel his pants growing tighter. 

She was everything.

"You sure you want this, Peter?" 

He nodded mindlessly, he didn't really hear what she said, he would just agree to anything that woman asked if it meant being hers, and when she dropped to her knees, another whine left him.

She was being so sweet, softly pushing him against the bed, playing with his zipper, palming him through his jeans. Peter threw his head back, a lazy grin forming on his lips as she settled her eyes on his. He reached for a strand of her hair, and played with it. 

She left a chaste kiss on his hipbone, another on his lower stomach, and when he felt the sloppy kiss against the fabric of his boxers, he groaned.

Then he heard the loud thud on the wall, and finally recognized the presence of his roommate on the next room. He incorporated quickly, but Felicia was pulling on his boxers and he couldn't help the "Fuck" he whimpered at her touch.

"Peter, for fucks sake!" you yelled, and he bit his lips cringing, "Stop being a slut!"

Felicia looked up at him and she didn't seem annoyed, no, she looked absolutely angry. He licked his lips, ready to explain but she was already standing up and picking up the thin blouse he had taken the sweet time of unbuttoning.

"Sweetheart...!"

"Don't fucking 'sweetheart' me, Parker" she hissed, carefully clasping her stilettos, "You told me you lived alone!"

"I told you I was alone." he corrected her gently, zipping up his jeans as he tried to reach for her, "She wasn't supposed to be here, Felicia. Please"

"I'm sorry, darling, but I don't like having an audience."

She gracefully walked out of his room and guided herself around his apartment. Peter heard the dim laughter inside your room as he followed her, a laughter he could only pick up because of his heightened senses, and he was going to confront you about this.

"Honey, we can just be quieter..."

"I'm not a teenager to be playing around like this" Felicia took a hold of the doorknob and turned to look at him, "Maybe make up a code next time? Put a sock on your door or something, I don't give a shit."

And she left.

Peter turned to look at his roommate's door. He inhaled sharply.

He called for you.

He saw the doorknob move, then saw you peek your head out behind the wood and give him a small smile, "Yeah?"

"Was that necessary?"

"I mean," you took a good look at Peter, eyes scanning him up and down shamelessly. You would never admit it, but he looked delicious all hot and bothered, "It was to me."

"You say that like it happened often" he tried to argue, but you raised an eyebrow and leaned against the door frame, making him remember the other times. He sighed, "Okay, I can understand how that can be annoying..."

"You know, Peter..." Your voice was laced with a mix of amusement and irritation "There's a whole world out there full of people who don't involve me in their intimacy, yet I came to live with the only one who does, and not in the good way."

Peter ran a hand through his hair, feeling the blood run to his cheeks. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? It won't happen again, I don't even think she'd..."

You cut him off waving your hand, "You're something else, Parker" you said, shaking your head as your gaze softened, "Seriously though, knock it off. I'm not your personal filming crew, and, like she said, I'm definitely not your audience."

Peter opened his mouth to respond but you turned around, "Don't bother. I'm going to bed. And next time, maybe try a motel room? Or, better yet, invest in some self-control." NEXT PART.

[malavera]

What Makes a Grown Man Wanna Cry?

“Give, in.”

He doesn’t want to admit that he’s wrong.

He doesn’t want to admit that he should’ve just listened to you, hear you out.

He doesn’t want to say that touching that woman was a part of his job, his livelihood, and yours.

But, he lied to you.

And, you didn’t take it very well.

You specifically said no more sex scenes in the acting business. Acting is his passion, that doesn’t mean it should come out as disrespecting you. You understood his passion, but you refuse to understand the part where he needed to do it in spite of his passion.

He grunted, holding onto the cuffs as if his lives depends on it. Stubborn by nature—You didn’t mind it at all as you could do this all day. Increasing the speed of the toy that wraps around the head of his reddening cock, he yearns to let go though not with the cock ring hugging his shaft tightly. Entertained, is what you feel—watching the way he gritted his teeth with his eyes shut, eyebrows scrunched together either in pain for he couldn’t shoot everything he’s got or pleasure for little did both of you know that your beloved secretly enjoys this.

“Ugh.” You grunted, straddling his face—aiming your glistening cunt, who is dying for the touch of his tongue or his hands, towards his face. He sensed you, slowly he opens his eyes as he couldn’t help but let out such a slutty moan coming from a man. His visions are welcomed by your hands aggressively rubbing your slippery cunt, playing with your clit. Your hands coated with your own fluid.

“Just, give in. Baby, I’ll put this around your needy cock and fuck you like our life depends on it.” You purred. He grunted, his cock throbs even more if that’s possible, longing for your tight cunt sucking his cum to come out and fill you.

“All of this would be easier if you’d just give in.” You breathlessly spoke, your hands never stop playing with your cunt throughout the whole promises that you sell. His body never stopped producing sweats, his chest heaves, his heart thumps like a big fat bass. A smirk expressed on your face, he’s bargaining with his willpower to give into you than holding onto his pride. Tiny bits of sweats formed against his forehead, his whole figure soaking wet as if he received a wave from the ocean.

You pulled yourself away from him, straddling his chest—leaning down towards his face stopping just an inch from his lips, your eyes watching over him. Tilting your head to the side before you look over at his pulsating cock, who looks like he could be coming in just a few seconds.

“Come on, admit it. Admit that I’m right, and you’re wrong. You’re a selfish human being who wouldn’t want to listen to his wife who practically begged you to stop acting if there’s a porn script.” The words spoken out of you intended to coax him, sounded so delicate yet you were trying to spit at him. Surprised as you watched a tear escaped from his closed eyes, his breathing turned ragged, his chest heaves even more, lips tremble.

The man of action is crying.

“Aw, you’re crying?” You purred, slowly making your way down towards his hips. “You’re fucking crying?” By the end of your words, he is practically sobbing.

You breathily laughs before you turned off the toy on his cock, and take out the cock ring. Once both objects are off of his precious cargo, he lets out a big sigh of relief only to be quickly exchanged with a loud moan from his mouth when you harshly shove his cock into your warm cunt.

He opens his eyes to find your ass in his vision, as you ride him cowgirl reverse style. You take a look at him from your shoulders before you started to move your hips to bounce on his throbbing fat cock. You knew this shouldn’t take long as you’ve been edging him for 30 minutes. You knew, sooner or later he would spill his warm seed in your cunt.

“Tell me honey, are you sorry? If you are, I’m gonna let you cum in my pussy.”

He grunted, his whole body shudders to the thought of making a mess in your pussy. “Fuck! Yes! Yes! I’m sorry, it’s my fault! I shouldn’t be touching her other than you! Please baby, let me cum. Fuck, let me fucking cum please!”

You let out a scoff laugh, “You wanna cum baby? You wanna cum on my pussy?”

“Yes! Fuck, I’m gonna-” And before he could spill his load inside of you, you lifted your ass—made his cock fell out of your pussy hole. He choked out a breath, his body launching forward, his eyes opened wide in surprise.

You smirked, looking at him from your shoulders. Clicking your tongue, your head shook from side to side as you turn your body towards him.

“Oh honey, bad boys don’t get to cum in their wives pussy.”

[blvel4goon]

Peter Parker x Top male reader

This is my first ever work so please..forgive me if its bad!!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Disclaimer: NSFW,minors and f!readers dni!

TW: blowjobs,jerking off?? And its really short,Idk what the fuck

In the heart of New York City, the cold air enveloped New York city as Peter made his way through the familiar streets where he played as a child with his best friend M/N who he had a crush on..and a strong desire to fuck him...The weight of his textbooks in his backpack only reminded him of the study session that he agreed on.

Navigating the dimly lit stairwell of M/N's apartment building, Peter approched his best friend's door with a mixture of anticipation and nervous energy...he didn't want anything to go wrong..and he certainly didn't want to embarrass himself infront of M/N. The thruth is that he had a crush on his friend for a really long time,but was too scared to talk about it with him.As he reached the final steps,the worn sole of his shoe caught on and uneven edge,causig him to trip and fall a couple of steps down. The door swung open, reaveling M/N who got scared of the loud noise and decided to check what was that about..

"Gosh..you scared me Parker,you good?" M/N helped him get up of the stairs and help him into his apartment.

"Yeah,yeah, just a little..stumble on the stair. No big deal"

Peter,sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck as he smiled awkwardly.

"Spider-Man stumbling on stairs? That's a headline i never thought i'd see."..Peter's face got ever reder if thats even possible.

,,W-well,all superheroes have their c-clumsy moments..right?''

M/N,still laughing: "Totally.Come on in, Spidey. Wathc out for the floor or you might trip over nothing again" Parker,with a shy smmile: "Noted..i'll try to stick to swinging from buildings next time"

After a focused study session where peter couldn't concentrate,only thinking about his friend and how badly he wanted him in this moment. M/N closed the textbook with a decisive thud. He suggested to go to his room with a warm smile that Peter could melt from. M/N lead Parker away from the living room towards the sanctuary of his room.

As they continued chatting about everything and nothing, Peter found himself stealing glances at M/N when he thought the other wasn't looking. He marveled at the curve of his friend's smile and thr way his muscles flexed everytime he moved, he felt himself getting more and more turn on by his best friend. M/N,raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk:"Hey,dude, you've been staring at me a lot tonight. What's going on? You nervous or something?"

Peter stammering as always: "N-nervous? No,no,not at all. Just lost in the thoughts. Thinking about you know..s-scoence stuff?"

M/N moved closer teasingly: "Science stuff,huh? You sure it's not more like..Me stuff?" Peter tried to help himself from this embarrassing situation: "W-what? No! I mean..yes! Youre my b-best friend,but its just..nothing don't worry!" He could feel his face getting reder and a bulge forming in his pjama pants but quickly covered himself with a blanket.

"Okay, seriously Pete! You can tell me anything" M/N grabbed him by his thighs..sending a shiver up to his aching member.

Peter tried not to make any sounds, trying not to alarm his best friend of anything. "A-alright,fine..it's just..i've been thinking about you a lot lately..about us..h-how close we are,and maybe it's just me overthinking,b-but.."

"but what?" M/N smirked, hearing his best friend like that really turned him on,all frustered and whimpery. He got closer to Peter..he sat between peters legs..slightly spreeding them apart as he saw the bulge in Parkers pants.

Peter's eyes widen open,he felt the touch of M/N's hands on his toned body..traveling up to the waistband of his pants:"w-what..are you d-"

His sentence was cut short by his own moan as M/N took his cock into his hand..long and slow strokes followed by Peters whimpers and heavy breathing.

"I like you too Parker,and i can see..that you like me too" M/N looked down at his bestfriend's cock..throbbing in the palm of his hand as he teased the head. Peter could only moan and gasp for air as M/N toyed with his sensitive member.

"i c-can't..please M/N.." His bestfriend only smirked..his lips met Peters in a hungry and passionate kiss. "You like it spidey?When i play with it like that?" M/N teased, kissing Peter's neck while stroking his cock faster.

"f-fuck..yes,yes i love it please-" Parker started moving his hips, trying to get more friction.

M/N suddenly went down on Peter..licking the slit with his tongue before taking his cock down his throat..it made him gag a little but he wanted to listen to these moans.

"a-AAH-..M/N..fuck!" Parker moaned loudly..his legs shaking as his bestfriend bobbed his head up and down on his member..his fingers found their way into M/N's hair..gripping them softly. M/N's skilled tongue teased Peters shaft..making him moan ever more,he could feel his orgams building up as he thrusted his hips into M/N's throat.

"f-fuck- ahh..im g-gonna cuuum!" Peter's body shuddered as he felt M/N's moans aroud this cock. He pulled Peter's member out of his mouth..and started stroking it again.."f-fuck! Pete,you made me tear up..i like it" He smirked as he teased Pete's dick some more before he came on M/N's face..legs shaking and his eyes rolling back in his head. "Ahh- O-h my god..t-too much!" Parker cried out as his swollen cock twitched in M/N's hand..

"Good job Peter..but were not done yet..."

[bunnigwen]

[nino-rox]

TASM Peter Parker x Male Bottom Reader

Content Warning : NSFW Smut, sexual themes (Blow Job), The Amazing Spider-Man AU, Top Peter Parker and Bottom Male Reader.

Disclaimer : This is a Fan-fiction story written for entertainment purposes only, no part of the story implies or affirms anything regarding real world events or individuals. Please be of the appropriate age ( i.e, Adult as per your country’s stipulations and regulations) before interacting with this post.

The door was locked, and sloppy sounds of someone making out could be heard. Peter grabbed Y/N’s ass and squeezed it as they aggressively made out. “You know, if you’re this into me, you could’ve just asked me out,” said Y/N between kissing Peter. “Haha, let’s go for a test run first,” Peter said as he slid his shirt off. Peter’s fingers ran through Y/N’s hair, pushing him down towards his cock. Y/N kissed Peter’s chest, feeling up every inch of his lean muscular body. As soon as Peter’s dick touched Y/N’s lips, Y/N immediately began deep-throating it, looking up at Peter with a look that clearly told him to fuck his mouth. Peter stroked Y/N’s long brown locks while thrusting his hips forward, grunting pleasurefully. Peter pulled Y/N closer to himself as he lifted one of his legs over his shoulder and pushed deeper into his throat. Peter held Y/N by his hair as he began to harshly fuck his face making Y/N gag on his dick. He started going faster and harder, thrusting his hips forward hard enough to make his balls slap against Y/N’s cheeks. Peter reached around Y/N’s neck with both hands forcing him deeper onto his cock, pulling out to admire Y/N’s fucked out expression and teary eyes.

“How are you still not done?” Y/N managed to say, coughing and letting his throat recover from the abuse. “I want more,” Peter said, sitting on the chair and spreading his legs wide, exposing his still-hard cock craving attention. Peter looked at Y/N, his eyes searching for approval. “Fuck yea,” Y/N said as he licked Peter’s shaft and balls from top to bottom. Y/N opened his mouth wide, so Peter’s cock slipped right inside, wrapping his fat dick around his soft and juicy tongue as Peter moaned, leaning his head back, his body dripping sweat and his mind overloaded by pleasure. Peter grabbed the back of Y/N’s head, pushing it further down, his knees shaking uncontrollably from all the fun he was receiving.

Peter’s body began to tense as he felt his climax building up. He groaned loudly as his body jerked violently, thrusting Y/N’s head deeper onto his dick. Y/N looked up at Peter with an expression that clearly told him he wanted more, begging him to keep fucking his throat. Peter grabbed Y/N by the hair, forcing him to throat even more of his fat cock, pulling out and thrusting back in. Peter’s whole body shook from pleasure as his load shot directly down Y/N’s throat, his orgasm overwhelming his body completely. His breathing became rapid as he moaned uncontrollably. Y/N pulled off, making a popping sound, cum dripping from the side of his mouth; he maintained eye contact with Peter as he licked and swallowed every last bit.

[uncasualfangirl]

The boys really did kill the carpet last night 😍

[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.

[cruel-seduction]

Midnight Encounters

Content Warning:

* Blood (minor injury)

* Mildly intense situations

Summary : You thought a midnight snack might cure your insomnia. Instead, you find a masked stranger injured and raiding your pantry. One odd kiss and a few strange confessions later, you’re left questioning what just happened—and if he’ll show up in your kitchen again.

Glimpse - “Do you, um…” he starts, glancing at your kitchen cabinets, “have any… Band-Aids?”

You stare, incredulous, still gripping the countertop in a weird mix of shock and bewilderment. “You’re Spider-Man. I thought you were supposed to be, like, invincible.”

“Apparently not,” he mumbles, looking down with a dramatic sigh. “Turns out, I’m just human enough to still need a Band-Aid every now and then.”

(Picture taken from pinterest)

You shuffle into your dark kitchen, rubbing your eyes and hoping that a mug of chamomile tea might finally bring some sleep. It’s 2 a.m., and the quiet hum of your apartment is a small comfort on this otherwise restless night.

But as you turn on the kitchen light, your heart nearly stops.

A figure, dressed head-to-toe in black and red, sits on your floor. He’s wearing a Spider-Man suit—the Spider-Man suit, complete with the mask—and he’s holding a spoonful of Nutella, chocolate smudged on the white eye lenses. A dark smear trails down the side of his masked head, and you realize with a jolt that it’s blood. He’s been injured.

“I can explain,” he says quickly, as though realizing how insane this all looks.

You stare, stunned, gripping the countertop as your mind races through every logical reaction: scream, run, maybe even call the police. But you’re frozen, your brain failing to compute why Spider-Man, a masked stranger, is sitting on your kitchen floor eating Nutella—Nutella you don’t even own.

After a beat of silence, he clears his throat, though the spoon remains poised mid-air. “Actually, no, I can’t.”

You glance at the jar, realizing with bewilderment that it isn’t even yours. “You… you brought your own Nutella?”

“Well… yes?” He shifts awkwardly, spoon still in hand. “It was an emergency.”

The absurdity hits you at once, and despite the fear bubbling up in your chest, you raise an eyebrow. “So, you break into my apartment… at 2 a.m., bleeding all over my floor, just to eat—your Nutella?”

The masked eyes widen in shock as he sets the jar down. “Whoa, no—no.” He waves his hands in defense. “That’s not—Look, I didn’t mean to break in.” He hesitates, sounding oddly defensive, like he’s scrambling to explain himself without making it worse. “It’s just—I was out there, chasing some guys, and things went south. And I saw your fire escape and… I needed a break.”

His head tilts up to face you fully, white lenses narrowing as if gauging your reaction. He shifts, trying to tuck a torn edge of his suit further behind him, but you’re still too stunned to speak.

“Do you, um…” he starts, glancing at your kitchen cabinets, “have any… Band-Aids?”

You stare, incredulous, still gripping the countertop in a weird mix of shock and bewilderment. “You’re Spider-Man. I thought you were supposed to be, like, invincible.”

“Apparently not,” he mumbles, looking down with a dramatic sigh. “Turns out, I’m just human enough to still need a Band-Aid every now and then.”

For a few seconds, you consider calling the police or just grabbing a frying pan, but something stops you. Maybe it’s the slight slump in his shoulders or the way he mutters about bad timing. Whatever it is, you reach into your cabinet, pulling out the first aid kit and holding it out, staying cautiously a few steps away.

“Thank you,” he says, sounding almost surprised.

As he fumbles with the bandages, you slowly sink to the floor across from him, careful to keep your distance. “So… you’re just gonna patch yourself up here? With my first aid kit?”

“I’ll leave you some web fluid as payment, if you want,” he says, voice muffled as he tears open a bandage.

It’s utterly bizarre, watching Spider-Man—the Spider-Man—clumsily patch himself up on your kitchen floor, trying to look like this is normal.

“You know, breaking into random kitchens is… probably not in the superhero handbook,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop yourself.

He chuckles, sounding as surprised by it as you are. “I’ll make a note of that. Avoid random kitchens.” He glances at you, a bit more cautious, and adds, “You’re taking this a lot better than I’d expect, by the way.”

“Oh, I’m freaking out,” you reply, though you feel your own defensiveness slip a little. “I’m just too tired to run screaming into the street right now.”

For a moment, he’s quiet, the only sound the soft crinkling of bandages and the faint hum of the fridge. But when he speaks again, his voice is almost shy. “Thank you for… you know, not throwing me out.”

You can only manage a small nod, realizing that the man beneath the mask—whoever he is—seems like someone who hasn’t had many moments of kindness like this. In the gentle light, you share a moment of quiet understanding, two strangers who just happened to meet in the strangest of ways.

Spider-Man fumbles with the bandages, his movements uncharacteristically clumsy. He finishes securing a Band-Aid to his temple and mumbles a quiet “thanks” as he lowers his hands to his lap, looking oddly bashful for someone who spends his nights swinging across skyscrapers.

For a few moments, you sit in silence, staring at the floor, wondering if you’ll wake up from this fever dream. But the soft glow of your kitchen light and the distant sound of city traffic outside make it all feel surprisingly real. And he’s sitting right there, masked and bruised, shoulders slightly slouched, as if the weight of the night has finally caught up with him.

Finally, you clear your throat, breaking the silence. “So… you do this often?”

He looks up, those wide white lenses shifting slightly in a way that somehow communicates a sheepish grin. “Not exactly. Usually, I just…” He pauses, tapping his fingers on his knees. “You know, avoid breaking into people’s kitchens.”

You raise an eyebrow, managing a smirk despite yourself. “So, is Nutella an essential part of the Spider-Man toolkit?”

There’s a muffled laugh from beneath the mask, soft and genuine. “Don’t knock it. Chocolate is a top-tier snack when you’re exhausted. Which…” He gestures vaguely to his bloodied suit, “…happens more than you’d think.”

The two of you lapse into silence again, the surreal nature of it all slowly sinking in. But there’s something else in the air too, a kind of mutual understanding that feels strangely… comforting.

Spider-Man shifts, glancing toward the window. “I should go. Before you change your mind about calling the police.”

You laugh, and it surprises you both. “I guess it would be hard to explain why Spider-Man was eating Nutella on my floor.”

He snorts, moving to stand. “Let’s keep that between us, then.”

But before he can fully rise, something stops you. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you—through the mask, yes, but there’s a gentleness there, a warmth that you didn’t expect. Or maybe it’s the fact that tonight feels like a moment outside of time, a brief connection with someone who risks everything for strangers every day, yet somehow ended up needing you tonight.

Before you can second-guess yourself, you reach out, gently catching his hand. “Wait.”

He pauses, tilting his head in curiosity as he glances down at where your fingers brush against his glove. Without thinking it through, you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his masked cheek.

“Thank you for protecting the city,” you say quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “And… for trusting me. Even if it’s just for a minute.”

You see him stiffen for a second, as though the gesture has completely caught him off guard. Then, his shoulders relax, and he lowers his head, the hint of a smile somehow visible even through the mask.

“Thank you,” he replies softly, voice tinged with genuine warmth. “For not freaking out. And for, you know… the Nutella.”

You laugh again, and it’s then that he gives your hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away, moving toward the window.

“Take care of yourself, Spider-Man,” you say, a soft ache already building in your chest as he reaches the fire escape.

He pauses on the ledge, glancing back at you, his white eye lenses narrowing in a kind of gentle, playful expression. “Sweet dreams. And hey—maybe next time, I’ll bring peanut butter.”

Then, in one fluid movement, he’s gone, disappearing into the night, leaving you alone in your dim kitchen, with a half-eaten jar of Nutella and the lingering warmth of an unexpected kiss.

[2-fast-2-curious]

hey, hope ur doing well, do u have any more andrew garfield audios? 🫶🫶 thanks in advance!

[M4F] Waking my darling up because I'm craving her

[gentle Mdom] [British accent] [Sleepy] [Aftercare] [Doggy style] [Fingering]

Creator Reddit: u/ToMyNumber1