#spider-man reader insert

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

inviting PETER PARKER over as friends for a movie night on your laptop. you didn’t believe people actually gave a fuck about gray sweatpants and when you told pete to dress comfy you didn’t expect him to show up in a pair. your eyes glance down involuntarily, and he doesn’t visibly take note of it at first. it’s the second, or third time you accidentally make eye contact with something that the gears in his head start turning. innocent—albeit a little awkward—cuddling evolves. he gets a whiff of your hair, you feel the muscle under his fitting white t-shirt, he sees the cold perk your nipples through your pajama top, you swear there’s a halfie hiding between his legs. suddenly, your bodies start to gravitate towards one another a little more purposely, nudging each other while “adjusting” positions. soon, you’re not focused on the movie, you can’t stop staring at his rig through those damn gray sweatpants.

[keenzinemugstudent]

(Miguel yelling at Miles)

Y/n: What's the problem? Why you yelling at him like that tho?

Miguel: Yelling?

Y/n: *Gets in his face* YELLING!!!!

[soullessdianthus]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚

Warnings: yandere themes (manipulation, kidnapping, imprisonment), smut (overstimulation, dubcon/noncon, breeding kink if you want to interpret like so)

Word count: 1.6k

A sound of pouring rain tapping over the window kept you awake. You glanced over the glass and saw the same image as for the days before - dense, forest line cutting the grassy, wild meadow off. The temperature inside and out was warm and it almost felt like summer in the countryside of your homeland. But it was all an illusion.

A high-tech screens had been put inside the window frames to imitate your well known surroundings. He put an effort to make this place look like a decent place. Somewhere you would feel comfortable. But this wasn’t even a real home, it was your prison. 

After you interfered a little too much with the canon events in one of the spider-verses, Miguel O’Hara visited your world in person. He demanded an explanations from Peter Parker, a friend from college, about your doings. 

Because you two learned lately about the up-coming death of uncle Ben and tried to avoid it by all means. And you almost succeed. Almost.

Miguel, a tall man with a dark look on his face, threatened Peter about the consequences of avoiding such occurrences. Parker appeared to be frightened of the stranger as Miguel’s eyes seemed to glow brightly red from frustration. 

Those piercing eyes finally found your form, standing still behind your Spiderman and only then you processed what you just heard. 

━ Wh-What? It was OUR idea to save your uncle! ━ You interrupted those two men, gesturing with your hands. But Peter didn’t even bother to look at you, he didn’t have enough courage to do so. He tried to frame you and put all the guilt on you. Which in the end, somehow worked out. 

He agreed to that mysterious spidey-guy from another universe that someone had to bear the consequences of messing up with the timeline. And Parker pointed at you. An ultimate betrayal, ripped your heart apart. 

Soon after you found yourself in that damn prison with a bracelet over your wrist to “stop you from glitching”. Whatever that was supposed to mean. 

Miguel was some kind of boss around the place you found yourself in. At least that's what Lyla told you, a artificial intelligence present in the technology around you. It was him who was responsible for you from now on as he visited you every day. 

At first, each time you saw him, you tried throwing things at him purely out of rage - a book, a small picture frame or a chair, but each time he managed to catch or turn down anything you tossed. He kept trying to explain to you what was happening and why he couldn’t let you go back into your world. Miguel stated that it was dangerous enough when a non-variant person was messing up with the timeline. 

But was this all true? There was no one else you could ask for a second opinion, you had to believe, everything Miguel told you was the truth. Obviously, you questioned everything about him and this place. It felt like you were losing your sanity and a part of yourself. 

The well-built man with brown, combed hair was very patient and understable with your rage and sorrow. Until he was not. 

O’Hara had enough of your tantrums and one time he scared you truly. Eyes turning bloody red, his veins popping out and his teeth turning into long fangs. He charged at you, shoving your whole body to the wall behind. When your eyes were filled with fear and lungs emptied themself due to the force he pushed you, Miguel contained himself and moved away quickly. 

You rarely saw him in this form, but when you finally did - you kept behaving well, not wanting to anger him again. Because you knew nothing about him. What if he was able to hurt you? Or even murder you? 

Since then, you tried to suppress any anger and try to figure out how to return to your world, your life. And the brunette kept coming back, each day just to visit you. In the end he was your only company. 

Miguel brought you new books or art supplies if you asked Lyla or him directly. The man would spend some time with you - cooking, watching movies, anything you liked to do. But it was months ago. 

For the last couple of weeks, you were practically silent and apathetic. Curling inside the armchair near the “window”, napping or sobbing quietly. You’ve been in this prison for too long and it began to crush your spirit. 

He acknowledged the change in you and tried talking about it. He kept assuring that he has to keep you here for the world’s sake and balance. Because if someone messes up with the canon again, the universe will collapse. You reprimanded yourself for leaning into his chest when he offered you a comforting hug. Because how could you ever want solace from your captor? 

That evening was no different. Miguel visited you after work and found you sitting in silence on that damn armchair. When he crouched down, trying to catch your sight, you scooted backwards in the seat. 

━ What’s wrong, cariño?

━ I want to go home. ━ Your voice full with sorrow gained his attention. Where was your spirit he adored so much? The pain in your voice almost made him feel bad. Almost.

Miguel reached towards your exposed calf and started rubbing it with his pointing finger. 

━ This is your home, tú lo sabes. [sp.: you know it] ━ His voice sounded peaceful when he reached both of his arms in your direction. His embrace was welcoming, but you knew better. It was like a sweet flavored poison, spreading slowly under your skin, killing you slowly. ━ Come here.

You pushed firmly against his shoulders as you jumped out of the chair and took a few steps back. 

━ Miguel ━ you said his name loudly, gaining his full attention. You were being hysterical again. ━ I’ve been here FOR MONTHS. I had life before, I had A PURPOSE. You took it from me!

He tried, he really tried holding himself back this time you talked back. But your whining became annoying and Miguel just knew what would make you feel better. 

He stood up to his full height, easily towering over you. Brunette came closer, taking each step slowly, like he was giving you time to calm yourself or at least apologize. But you didn’t even back out. 

Miguel was leaning to look into your glimmering eyes and he saw how much you hated him at that moment. “We need to work on that temper”, he once told you, but you thought nothing of it. 

His little, feisty nymph. That’s what he liked to think of you. 

━ Fine ━ he growled right in your face, before grabbing your arm. ━ I’ll give you a purpose. 

The sound of your heavy panting echoed through the room. You tried straightening your hands again, but unsuccessfully as your muscles gave up a long time ago. Only his strong hands kept your ass higher than your head, by the tightening grip over your already bruised hips. 

Miguel kept thrusting into your tight cunt until you were a sobbing mess. He already pushed you over the edge at least three times, devouring the little noises you made and how your pussy clenched around his swollen shaft. 

Brunette kept one of his palms spread between your shoulder blades, keeping your upper half down, making your spine arch better. 

The sweat covered the back of your bent knees, him sliding in and out of you with ease, because of your wetness. Miguel certainly knew where to touch you to make you break into pieces between his fingers. 

━ See, doesn't that feel good to be by my side, cariño? ━ He leaned over your puffing frame, cheek dipped in the sheets while he kept fucking you stupid. 

━ Mig-Miguel… I can’t… n-no more…. ━ You whispered to him, feeling as each thrust of his hips pushed his cock deeper inside of you. The coiling sensation started to build up again between your trembling legs and in stomach. ━ Please!

━ Just one more, darling. ━ He heard you clearly, but yet he kept sliding in and out of you violently, chasing his own sweet release. 

Miguel took his hand away from your back and sneaked between your puffy lips. He spreaded them, opening you up and making it easier for him to find your clit. And when he finally did so, the brunette started rubbing it in a rhythm that quickly made you reach your another orgasm that night. 

Your body tensed suddenly and then collapsed into his pelvis, sinking his swollen cock deeper. When your cunt fluttered around him uncontrollably and your eyes rolled backwards, he came inside you, clenching his teeth. 

He tilted forward and placed both of his strong hands on each side of you, while coming down from his high. He noticed your grip tightening over bed sheets and smiled, before giving you a tender kiss on the temple. 

━ Mi pequeña ninfa. Do you understand now, that only I can protect you? [sp.: My little nymph]

Miguel loved his girl no matter if she had a bad day or not. He was going to make sure, no one will ever take you from him. You’re his precious troublemaker, aren’t you?

━ You belong with me. ━ He growled into your ear.

[moonstruckme]

James Potter or tasm!peter parker fluff or comfort?? I dont mind whatever you write ill love 🙏🙏

Thanks for requesting :)

cw: implied past abuse

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Peter’s having a rough week. These things always seem to happen to him. He’s got a big presentation at work on Friday, by which time the project he’s been underfunded and understaffed for has to be finished. His Aunt May has been busy with work, too, so either you or Peter is at her place most nights trying to help out, except she seems to think when it’s Peter it’s familial responsibility but when it’s you it's an unfair burden, so it’s mostly been Peter. There’s also an impressively organized cell of criminals he’s been trying to investigate before they blow up a bank or something. So of course, he’s sleep deprived to boot. 

And while you know the rough edge of frustration in his voice isn’t meant for you, hearing it makes your skin tighten nonetheless. 

“How does a person run out of salt?” Peter stalks through the front door and straight into the kitchen. “Or maybe the better question is, why does it take going to three bodegas to find one with salt in stock?”  

He’s soaked from the rain, and you feel guilty for being all cozied up on the couch while he’s been running around the city. Maybe it’s irrational, but you feel sort of like you should have been stressed out and cold all night, too. In solidarity. 

“May didn’t have salt?” you guess as Peter opens the fridge, stooping low to peer inside. 

“You should see her pantry, babe. It’s like everything either expired at the turn of the century or got bugs in it. Hey, did you make anything for dinner?” 

“No.” You hesitate. “You told me you wanted to eat at May’s, so I had the leftovers from last night.” 

“Shit.” He closes the fridge, resting his forehead on the door. “You’re right. I totally forgot, I only made enough for her.” 

“I’ll make something now.” You stand. Peter gives you a look that conveys both apology and gratitude as you join him in your small kitchen. “You feel like pasta?” 

“Thank you,” he says, kissing the top of your head lightly. 

“Course,” you murmur. Really, it feels like the least you can do. “Would you mind chopping up some basil?” 

“For my own dinner?” Peter teases. The levity in his voice is obviously forced, and the air between you heavies as he realizes you’ve heard it too. 

You almost don’t want to ask, but you do want to be a supportive girlfriend. You can lend him a compassionate ear. “How was work today?” 

He sighs, grabbing the cutting board from a cabinet near your feet and shutting the door with perhaps a tad too much force. 

“It was…ahh.” He scrubs a hand through his hair, stooping again into the white fridge light to find the basil. It casts dark shadows underneath his eyes. “You’ve gotta be sick of hearing about this.” 

“It’s okay. Unless you don’t feel like talking about it.” 

“No, it’s just, how do they expect us to stick to their tight schedule when half of my lab is being pulled away to other projects all the time?” Peter’s knife slices through the basil, hitting the cutting board with a sharp thunk. “Today, we were down one intern who caught the stomach flu, and it set us way back. One intern shouldn’t be that crucial to a big project like this!” 

You hum, ignoring the way the back of your neck prickles. The tension emanating from Peter is completely valid, your reaction a bothersome, purposeless souvenir from an old life. You find yourself staring into the pot of water and waiting for it to boil. 

“And it’s not like it’s anyone’s fault, but all the rest of us are working extra hours to try and get this done in time.” 

Small bubbles in the bottom of the pot, rising tentatively to the surface. Peter’s knife thunks a quickening rhythm on the cutting board. 

“If they’d given us the money we asked for, we could have hired more people, been working with better equipment, but instead—” The water starts to rumble, steam warming your face. It’s thick in your throat. “—it’s like we don’t even work for a top-notch lab. Like, do they think we really believe they don’t have any resources to spare?”

Peter’s voice is rising, irritation sharpening his words. You reach to turn down the stove when big bubbles reach the surface, splattering hot onto your wrist. You ignore the sting. 

“My boss keeps talking about how important this presentation is,” Peter goes on, opening the cabinet next to your head and reaching inside, “but if it were really important, he’d have—” He slams the cabinet door. 

You both freeze. 

To anyone else, it would look like nothing—the way your expression stays perfectly still, your muscles stiffening just slightly, the invisible pause in your heartbeat. But Peter knows you. 

“Sorry.” He sounds as breathless as you feel. “I’m sorry. You okay?” 

“Mhm.” Despite your best intentions, your voice comes out pitchy. You can’t make yourself move in a way that feels natural, so you stay not moving at all. Steam wafting warm up onto your face. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Peter says, tone softer than you’ve heard it in days. “I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean to yell.” The roiling pot has calmed to a gurgle. You can see him swallow in your peripheral vision. “Can you look at me?” 

You take in what you hope is a subtle breath, turning to your boyfriend with a wan smile. “Sorry,” you manage. “I don’t know why I did that.” 

“It’s okay,” he says, brows bunched in the middle. Brown eyes like a puppy’s. 

He shifts his arms, a question, and you step into them. You do it more for him than for you, but the second Peter’s arms wrap around your back the last of the tension shudders out of you. You hug him back, rubbing between his shoulder blades reassuringly. 

“I scared you?” he asks, still in that soft voice like he’s afraid of startling you. It’s not really a question. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to get so mad.” 

“You’re allowed to be mad,” you argue weakly. There’s an embarrassing blockage in your throat. “It’s not your fault if I freak out, you should still be allowed to vent.” 

“No, but I know how you are.” Peter squeezes your shoulders. “I can vent without slamming things. It’s not nice.” 

You don’t have much of an argument for that. Still, “You really shouldn’t be the one comforting me right now,” you point out. 

A light hum. “Says who? I’m feeling a lot better already.” His hand climbs up to cup the back of your neck, his face turning down so his lips rest on your head. “Should’a just gone straight for the hug when I got home. Might have saved us both a lot of ranting.” 

You push your face into his sweatshirt, mindless of its dampness. He smells like rainwater. You don’t know how you could ever have thought, even for a second, that someone like this could be capable of hurting you. 

“I’ll make a note of that,” you murmur. 

“Yeah, please do,” Peter teases, pressing a kiss to your head. He pulls away and sets two still-chilled hands on your face. “Are you really okay?” he asks sincerely. “I know how scared you get, sweetheart. I’m so sorry I did that to you.” 

“You didn’t mean to,” you tell him, “and it wouldn’t be your fault anyways. I’m really okay.” 

Your boyfriend nods, but he still looks troubled. “Another hug for good measure?” 

“For you or for me?” 

A corner of his mouth kicks up. “Does it matter?” 

It doesn’t really.

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - surprise visit modern au!

an unfamiliar secretary won’t let you into the building to visit your husband, Miguel, at his office

Visiting your husband at work may as well be the best way for you to spend your day off. He’s been working hard, his passion truly bursting at the seams when he talks to you about the latest improvement project he’s been working on for the past three weeks. 

You’re walking down the sidewalk in an outfit you knew would make Miguel go crazy, holding a nice bouquet of flowers in your arm. You decided men don’t get flowers enough, so you’re here to fill in that gap. He really deserves more than flowers anyway. 

With the badge embedded into your watch, you scan your wrist against the access monitor on the wall. The doors automatically open, and you feel a nice gust of air conditioning run into you. 

The office is very modern, clean, and sleek. All around you are advanced units of technology; a result of your husband’s successes. It smells the same it always has; clean, crisp, and slightly minty. As you walk through the doors, you’re greeted with the exact same things you always are; same lounge chairs, same grand elevator... 

Though, you don’t recognize the secretary at the desk. 

She’s blonde, red lipstick smeared onto her tight lips in an unwelcoming frown. A matching pearl set adorned over her crisp, dark blue blazer. 

Usually, you’d say hi to the secretary you knew, Lyla. You assume she got fired, which was a real shame, you love her sass. She was always so kind to you, saying hi with a smile, or offering to help guide you through the office and such. 

But instead, you walk right past the desk, digging through your memories to find how you managed to find Miguel’s main office last time. 

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?“

Her voice is just as snarky as you had imagined. 

“Visiting Miguel?“ You pause, your patience already growing extremely thin for the new secretary. You’d probably chat about this to Miguel later, maybe bat an eyelash or two to convince him about hiring someone different. 

“Nuh uh! Miguel O’Hara is busy right now, not open for any visitors at the moment.“ She replies, fixating her eyes on the large monitor in front of her. 

You pause for a moment, critically thinking things through for a moment. 

“Oh! I get it. M’am, you haven’t met me before, have you?“ You ask, trying your best to not crinkle the flowers in your hands. She raises a single eyebrow, glaring as if you insulted her mother. (Which, you might as well should do.)

“I’m Miguel’s spouse. He lets me visit him whenever, I even have my badge right here-“

She holds up a single manicured finger. 

“Nice try, but my charts right here say that Miguel is busy at the moment. Try another time, maybe send him a fan letter or something.“

Your blood starts to boil as the new secretary has a satisfied smirk on her face. 

Instead of choosing violence and risking your hair getting ruined, you opt for the better option. Glaring at the desk manager directly in the eye, you pull out your cellphone from your pocket, manually pressing the contact button for Miguel. You wait for the phone to dial, pressing the cellular to your ear whilst examining your own nails. 

And finally, he answers. 

“Hm? You need something, honey?“

“Miguel.“

Miguel on the other line, freezes to a halt. Now, he knows he’s in trouble. Carefully, he clears his throat. 

“What is it, sweetie?“

You take a deep breath. “Your... secretary isn’t letting me into the office. Will you fix that, please?”

Miguel pinches between his eyebrows, groaning. 

“Of course, hun. I’ll be down in a sec.“

“Thank you, Miguel.“

The call ends, but the secretary still stares at you like you’ve thrown up all over her salad. She almost looks like she’s going to laugh, which makes you even madder. 

Within literally a few seconds, the elevator whirs to a halt, the top light switching on with a chime. As expected, your husband walks through the sliding doors, clad in a crisp white dress shirt and office pants. He’s so undeniably gorgeous, you almost consider forgiving the secretary. 

But, you don’t. 

“Ah, Miguel, this p-“

“Shut your mouth for moment, would you?“

The woman is taken aback, red bursting onto her cheeks as her fake smile melts into a frown. Her mouth is left agape, watching as Miguel saunters over to you with a smile. 

“What happened?“ Miguel asks, his Office Face™ dissolving into a genuine smile. He slots his hands to your waist, silently peering at the flowers in your arms. 

“Well, I was going to come surprise you... but then she said that you were busy.” You reply, pouting. 

“Aww, baby, it’s okay.“ He smooches the top of your head. “The flowers are pretty. I’ll handle this.“

Miguel then swerves around, this time with his Office Face™ on. He keeps his hand glued to your side, each step of his getting louder and louder as he makes his way towards the desk. 

“Tiffany.“

Tiffany, in question, shudders, keeping her eyes glued to the floor while a shit-eating smirk finds its’ way onto your face. No remorse whatsoever. 

“From now, until tonight, please let my partner into the building whenever they like.“

“Yes, sir. Why until tonight?“ 

“Because I’m firing you from any future stand-in’s, or any sort of work in here for the matter.“

Miguel: 1 Tiffany: 0

Tiffany looks like she has so much she wants to say, so much that she could scream at this very moment... but instead, she stays silent. You can see a vein practically ready to burst at her temple, her jaw grinding her teeth in her mouth. 

“I will dismiss you at the end of the day, Tiffany. I expect you to cause no more trouble until then.“

Tiffany is left utterly speechless, her jaw left slightly agape. Miguel ushers you by your back towards the elevator, poking and prodding his finger at the flowers in your grasp. 

Automatically, the elevator doors smoothly slide open, and you both step inside. You stare at the glass view outside, watching as the two of you get higher and higher above the city.

“I even had my badge, and she didn’t let me.“ You frown, indulgently leaning into Miguel’s chest. 

“I’m sorry, hun. Lyla’s out sick for a bit, so she was the only substitute I could find for today.“

Apologetically, he rubs your back, secretly praying that you’d forget about the whole ordeal so you’d pay attention to him instead. 

“S’okay. Thank god Lyla wasn’t fired.“ You mumble, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“She’s annoying, but she does her job well.“ Miguel remarks, and you gasp, personally offended on behalf of your beloved Lyla. 

“No she’s not! She’s super nice, actually.“

“Whatever.” Miguel scoffs. “Kiss me.”

“No. You called Lyla annoying.” 

these oneshots have really skyrocketed my account! thank you guys so much for the positive feedback, i love loveee reading all the comments i get! please stay tuned for more!

- cosmosis <333

© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.

[mintyys-blog]

EXPERIMENTATION— peter parker

WARNINGS: smut. no plot.

You and Peter were curled up on his tiny dorm bed, legs tangled together, his arms lazily wrapped around your waist. The glow of his desk lamp cast warm, golden light over his face, highlighting the curve of his cheekbones, the soft crease between his brows as he skimmed through a physics textbook.

You had been trying to work up the courage for this conversation all night. It wasn’t that you thought he’d say no—Peter was the most caring, attentive boyfriend you’d ever had. But that was part of the problem. He was gentle. Sweet. Thoughtful to a fault. You loved that about him. But… you wanted to see what else he could be.

You bit your lip, tapping your fingers against his chest. “Hey, Pete?”

“Hmm?” He didn’t look up, still absorbed in whatever equation he was working through.

You hesitated, then dove in. “I was thinking… maybe we could, um, try something different?”

That got his attention. His brown eyes flickered up to meet yours, soft and full of curiosity. “Different how?”

You exhaled slowly. “In the bedroom.”

Peter froze. The textbook slipped from his hands, hitting the floor with a soft thud. “Oh.” His face immediately turned pink.

You laughed, reaching up to brush his messy curls from his forehead. “Relax, I’m not suggesting anything crazy.”

Peter blinked at you, still clearly short-circuiting. “I—uh—I wasn’t— I mean, I didn’t think—”

You grinned, loving how flustered he was getting. “I just mean… you’re always so careful with me, Pete. And I love that. But I wouldn’t mind if you, you know, took control sometimes.”

His mouth opened, then closed. Then opened again. He looked like a fish out of water, struggling to form words.

“You mean… you want me to be… more, um…” He swallowed hard. “Dominant?”

You nodded, watching as his blush deepened. His fingers twitched slightly where they rested on your hip.

“I—wow, okay. That’s—uh. That’s not what I expected this conversation to be about.” He let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

You tilted your head, amusement flickering in your eyes. “You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“No! No, I mean—” He cleared his throat. “I just… I didn’t think that was something you’d want from me.”

You furrowed your brows. “Why not?”

Peter exhaled, shaking his head with a self-conscious smile. “Because I’m… well, me.”

You sat up a little, resting a hand against his chest. “Exactly. You’re you, which means you’re still you even if you’re, you know, being a little rougher with me.” You smirked. “I promise I won’t break.”

Peter let out a sharp breath through his nose, looking at you with something between nervousness and fascination. “You’re really serious about this?”

“Dead serious.”

His eyes flickered down to your lips, then back up to your gaze. There was a shift in his expression, something thoughtful, like a hundred ideas were racing through his head at once.

Finally, he exhaled, a slow, measured breath. “Okay.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”

His hand moved from your waist, trailing up to cup your jaw. His touch was still gentle, but there was something different in his eyes now. A promise.

“Okay,” he repeated, voice a little lower. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

And just like that, your heart stuttered in your chest. Maybe you weren’t the only one who had been thinking about this.

"But if I start getting too rough, just tell me to stop."

You nodded again, feeling anticipation build up inside you.

Without another word, Peter rolled on top of you and pinned your wrists above your head. He started kissing your neck roughly making his way down sucking hard enough that marks would appear.

His hands roamed over your body then zeroed in on your nipples twisting them and pinching the sensitive buds.

He then flipped onto his back bringing pulling bringing onto him straddling him. You felt his hardness pressing into you entering slowly working himself to be fully seated inside. He began bucking hips to an upwards slamming motion; he was getting deeper each stroke, rubbing against every sensitive spot sending sparks flying through your entire body. You threw your head back as you bounced up and down on his cock, your boobs moving with you. He watched your reactions, drinking in the sight of you. “You’re so beautiful like this..” you were moaning his name, going to cum soon as he played with your tits. “Pete, I’m gonna—”

Then suddenly he stopped. Pulling out, he spun you around bending over edge mattress. His palm coming crashing downwards meeting the flesh of your ass. Making loud slapping noises which echoed through the room. His spanking left crimson handprints behind. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten. You gasped as you came with a cry.

Peter pulled back on your hair exposing your neck. He leaned forward sinking teeth gently piercing skin just enough break surface. You whimpered at his bites, and he snapped his hips harder into you. He pulled out, watching as cum dripped out of your pussy. He panted for a moment, catching his breath. Then he flipped you on your back once more, hiking your legs to wrap around his waist. He thrusts in once more, and you moaned, your nails dragging down his back.

As the pain mixed with pleasure, Peter’s hand intertwined with yours holding them firmly in place. While he used his other hand as leverage applying pressure— constricting airflow to your neck. He threw your legs on his shoulders and thrusted in at a new angle. You gasped and squeezed his cock, silently encouraging him to do more. Peter snaps his hips against yours unrelenting grinding motions bringing intense pleasure.

His fingers digging deep into your hips controlling all movement; dictating pace, roughness, all of it. He was in control and he made it sure it was known.

Your vision began blur from oxygen deprivation still managed whisper single word, “more” which earned response to increase the intensity. He was throwing his entire weight behind every thrust sending shockwaves through both of your bodies threatening to topple over the edge.

And then everything went white.

When it was all over and Peter had finally released his hold on your throat allowing air rush back lungs. You smiled weakly looking upwards meeting gaze that sparkled mischief, knowing exactly what buttons to be pushed.

As you lay there, trying to catch your breath, Peter's eyes locked onto yours, a sly grin spreading across his face. "You liked that, didn't you?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "You liked being taken like that."

You nodded, still trying to process the intensity of what had just happened.

"I can see it in your eyes," Peter continued, his words dripping with dirty talk. "You love being dominated, love being told what to do. You're a naughty girl, aren't you?"

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as Peter's words sent a shiver down your spine.

"Yeah, you are," Peter said, his voice filled with conviction. "You're a dirty girl who loves getting fucked hard and rough. And I'm the only one who can give it to you like that."

He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "You're mine," he whispered. "My little slut, my little whore. And I'm going to use you whenever I want."

His words sent a spark of excitement through you, and you felt yourself getting wet all over again.

"Oh yeah?" Peter said, noticing the look in your eyes. "You want more? You want me to fuck you some more?"

You nodded eagerly, and Peter chuckled.

"Good," he said. "Because I'm not done with you yet. Not by a long shot."

He flipped you over onto your back and started kissing your neck again roughly making his way down sucking hard. Your neck was littered with hickeys.

As he kissed he started talking dirty again. His hands roamed over your body then zeroed in on your nipples twisting them and rolling them between his fingers.

"You like being treated like this don't you?" He asked between kisses.

"Yes" You replied.

"You're my little bitch aren't you?"

"Yes" You spoke again.

Peter’s fingers intertwined with yours holding them firmly in place.

"I own this pussy now" He growled into your ear.

He pressed into you again, slapping your ass with his right hand. The stinging sensation was exhilarating rather than painful—almost addicting.

By the looks of it, the night was far from over.

[supercap2319]

Venom: *Doing karaoke and looking at Peter* "I heard you're back together and if that's true, you'll just have to taste me when he's kissin' you. If you want forever, and I bet you do, just know you'll taste me too."

Peter: "Y/N? Stop showing Venom popular pop songs."

[justice-maul]

Can I request Tom's peter parker x male reader

Peter hasn't seen his bf for a while and when they finally meet they try to have sex and make out but are getting interrupted by the avengers every single time. Getting Peter annoyed little by little until he finally reaches his limits and tells the avengers to leave them alone since he is going to get fucked by his bf and doesn't want any interruptions

With a breeding kink, eating out peters ass, playing with peters pecs, praising kink

Thanks :)

«Temptation» Tom!Peter Parker x Top Avenger Male Reader

Word count: 1,366

Author Note: thank you anon I love this request so far it’s one of my favs! English isn’t my first language!

WE WERE JUST AT 400 A FEW DAYS AGO AND NOW I HAVE NEAR 800 FOLLOWERS?!?! YALL ARE THE BEST I LITERALLY LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH ❤️

Warning(s)⚠: Sub Peter, breeding, rim job, breast/pec play, nipple play, p in a, and of course, praise

It’s been so long since Peter has seen let alone touched his boyfriend, with the constant missions you two weren’t able to do anything together but finally, you two were both free and he was desperate to just feel you…

You two were in his room on the bed with Peter in your lap straddling your waist, his hands rested on your shoulders, your lips on his just as desperate to taste him as he was eager, you gently sucked his lip between your teeth, nipping at his bottom lip signaling him to open his mouth just enough for your tongue to slide into his warm wet mouth

But suddenly there’s a knock on the door and both of you are forced to pull away as Tony comes in to grab Peter for yet another time-consuming project, and it wasn’t the first time the Avengers had cock blocked both of you

Last week you were on top of him your hands trailed down his pants and felt up the fat of his ass as he let out a soft noise of pleasure in your mouth before Sam sent you a text to help him train. After a mission, Peter and you were desperate to feel each other as he palmed your cock but Steve sent out a message to all the Avengers for a long meeting

You can see that it was starting to get to Peter so one day as you two were on your couch in your bedroom you gently gripped his thigh moving your hand deeper in between as you began to kiss his neck in order to calm down his nerves, he let out a little whine as he’s been needy to just feel any sexual contact these past few weeks

Your lips gently sucked on his neck, pressing in hickeys to his skin as you began to leave light bites along his nape letting your teeth graze his skin causing him to let out louder noises but just as your hand moved to his pants one by one the avengers all came into the room

You saw Peter’s hands clench into fists as he watched all the Avengers swarm into your room and began to talk as if you two weren’t even there trying to spend time together alone and he couldn’t help but just snap, finally reaching his limit and stood up

“All of you, get out NOW!”

He yelled, it was unusual to see Peter yelling at anyone but it was clear he was pissed. “You have been bothering us all week can’t you leave for one day?!” He snapped and slowly the Avengers began to leave and he slammed the door shut behind them making it clear that he didn’t want anyone to disturb him

He let out a sigh of relief and turned back to you and you couldn’t help but just chuckle and you grab his waist pulling him in against your body and smashing your lips against his and soon you two were on the couch again making out, your hands snaked up his sweater lifting up right above his chest and began to gently grope his pecs

"Your body's so beautiful baby" You whispered against his lips causing him to shudder as your hands felt up his pecs gently squeezing and groping the fat, Peter was always incredibly sensitive and his chest was one of his weakest areas, especially his pink little buds

You pushed him against the couch getting in between his thighs as you began to grope his chest, feeling the supple skin against your fingers through his sweater was already driving you crazy and causing him to make the most pornographic noises only by you just you barely touching his chest

“Keep making those pretty noises for me sweetheart," you manhandled him on his knees with his ass raised in the air and removed both his pants and underwear, his sweater being the only piece of clothing left. He hid his face on the armrest as you grabbed handfuls of his cheeks

You waste no time in spreading his plump ass making his pink hole twitch as your breath fans over it jerking forward when you press your tongue flat against his rim and you began to take long strips along his hole making him whine pathetically which turned into a string of cusses as you pushed your tongue inside his slick heat

You can barely make out anything he was babbling but you continued to fuck his hole with your tongue, pulling back for a moment, you licked your own fingers, coating them in saliva before pushing two inside of his heat, your tongue joining them, spreading him open while enjoying the way he arched his back against your face

Your cock throbbed and harden between your legs, leaking precum into your boxers as it begged for attention when you finally were able to scissor and put three fingers inside him, is when you decided he was ready and pulled your fingers out of his cunt unbuckling your belt

When Peter saw you pull out your hardening length he felt a wave of nervousness and excitement coursing through him as you gently flipped him over on his back. Slowly, you began pushing into him inch by inch, “You're taking me in so well Peter, just relax for me baby, I’ll always take care of you,” you continued to praise him even as you bottomed out letting him adjust to your size

“I’m ready… you can start moving now…” he said nervously but you both knew when it came down to it he wasn’t shy about wanting your cock at all “Fuck, you feel so good,” you groaned feeling his tightness wrap around you, you began moving slowly inside of him his eyes locked in yours the entire time as you made love to him

“You’re so fucking beautiful Pete,” you added, your voice full of praise making him moan softly “I can’t believe I get to be with you like this…” Wordlessly, Peter pulled you into a passionate, heated kiss. You moaned into his mouth feeling your passion for him growing with each passing moment.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer as you continued to thrust into his sloppy hole. "Fuck, baby, you're so fucking sexy," you whispered against his lips making him whimper. "I can't get enough of you." You deepened the kiss, your tongue tangling with his. Peter’s brain turning to mush as he whispered “I love you” over and over again, against your lips

“I love you too baby, M’gonna fill you up so fucking good, gonna make you mine…” your voice thick with lust as you began to thrust harder and faster, slamming your body into his with each movement making him babble and moan loudly from your length dragging along his heat

“Come on baby, let me hear you scream,” you added with your eyes locked on his “Let me hear how much you want it.” He yelled out wordless moans, screaming for your cock so loudly there was no way the Avengers hadn’t heard you two now but neither of you cared at the moment

Your hips moved faster, fucking into him relentlessly “Gonna cum, gonna cum, f-fuck!” You felt him tighten around your hardness making you groan loudly as he screamed, your thrusts becoming sloppy as you both came together, feeling your cum gushing out of your cock filling him up, and his shooting out over his own stomach

“Feel so full…” he said breathlessly, you put a hand over his lower abdomen and pulled out, watching as his cum seeped out of his messy hole, “That was just what I needed,” he said panting and resting his head on the armrest as you chuckled and gently helped him to the shower to get you both cleaned up.

Let’s just say when you guys both came out of your room no one made eye contact and made sure to always ask you two if you were busy before bothering either of you, some of the Avengers made jokes about it (especially Tony) and every time they did Peter would groan and hide us head in his hands making you laugh

If you want more… check out my Masterlist

[pastelclovds]

I just know Spot uses his powers to watch Reader from afar, but not in a creepy way at all, just in a lovesick puppy crush way. Reader doesn’t mind at all, and when they acknowledge his presence by saying “hello” to him, Spot just squeaks and quickly disappears into one of his spots. I just love dorky shy guys. 🤍🖤

[hanasnx]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[benispunk]

Masterlist

Hey! Welcome! I write from time to time and you can find my stuff right here💘

(ps: Y/N is a female reader and I mostly write fluff and angst, I can’t write smut because i cringe everytime I try to write something close to that)

Marvel

Logan Howlett

Good Company

Lucky Number

Ticklish

All Is Bright

If I Had The Chance

Wade Wilson

The Best Dead Man Alive

Series:

logan howlett x reader

Who's That Girl? Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 (completed!)

Iron Dad & Spiderson

One Special Name

The Concert

---

[moonstruckme]

7K!!!!!! And a birthday!!!! What a day!!!!!

For the celly can I please request “frozen peas pressed against a fresh bruise” with tasm!peter? Pretty predictable of a pairing but I just love how you write him

What a day indeed!! Thanks for requesting angel

cw: mention of blood, bruises, and general violence (not being inflicted in the scene)

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 685 words

Peter is lucky you don’t faint at the sight of blood. You tell him as much, which makes him chuckle, which makes you both wince as the cut on his lip reopens. 

He’s blooming with bruises. You can tell they’re going to be bad—they already are bad, but you know they’re going to get worse. You’re doing your best to mitigate the damage with what you have on hand. There’s a slice of plastic-wrapped cheese laid across the less severe bruise on his jaw and a bag of frozen peas pressed as delicately as possible to the darker one across his temple. Peter could probably hold either of these himself, but he’s decided to busy his hands with the edges of your pajama shorts and leave the work of nursing to you. 

“How’d you get this one?” you ask, stroking your thumb close to the one on his temple. 

“Same guy.” Peter’s voice is light, though you can tell he’s hurting by the way he’s barely moving his lips. “I think his main plan was to try to knock me out.” 

You feel your face scrunch, sympathy for your boyfriend and disgust for his attacker warring in you. He coils the drawstring of your shorts around his finger and smiles at you with the working side of his mouth. 

“It didn’t work.” 

“Maybe you should’ve stayed down,” you mumble. 

“That wouldn’t have really been consistent with the whole ‘neighborhood protector’ thing…” 

“Who were you protecting this time, though?” You aim for lightness, but the question falls with unintended weight between you. You rub your lips together, looking at the peas instead of him. “It was a carjacking. I mean, it still sucks, but nobody was being physically hurt except you.” 

“Hey.” Peter’s voice is soft, teasing. He strokes a thumb over your thigh. “You should see the other guy.” 

You expel a breath. It aches a little coming out. “I just…it feels like you put yourself in danger tonight for nothing.” 

You’re still not quite looking at him, but you see his eyebrows scrunch in your periphery. The levity saps from his expression. “Sweetheart, I wasn’t in any real danger. I always make it back, don’t I?” 

“Barely,” you murmur, softer than soft. 

“I’ll be good as new in a couple days,” he assures you. “Super strength and super healing and all that, remember?” 

“I know. It’s scary when you come back like this, though.” 

“Hey.” Peter taps your thigh. You look at him, and he rewards you with a little smile. “It’s not like it happens all the time. These guys were waiting for me. They knew I was coming and they got the jump, but that’s not, like, a regular thing.” 

“I know,” you say again. “I just wish you’d pick your battles sometimes. If no one’s getting hurt, and you are getting hurt, maybe it’s not always worth it. You could at least consider leaving things be some of the time.” You smile back at him, and it’s a bit watery. “The cars will be okay.” 

Peter looks back at you for a minute. You look down, embarrassed—you’re not even the one getting hurt, what right do you have to get all emotional about it?—but you can still feel him studying you. After a while, he says, “Okay.” 

You blink. “Okay?” 

He smiles. Not like he’s consoling you this time, but like he can’t help it. “Yeah, baby. I don’t want to scare you for nothing. So I’ll try” —he sighs— “to pick my battles a little bit. Sometimes.” 

You feel teary again. “Thanks,” you say thinly. 

Peter’s brows hook in the middle, his hand moving up to hold your hip as though to steady you. “Sure,” he says softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was freaking you out so much.” 

You laugh, shrugging and wiping wetness away from your bottom lashes. He pouts. 

“Kiss?” 

It’s an easy request to oblige. You kiss Peter on his top lip, the good side, but when that’s not enough for him and his bottom lip splits again anyway, he says he doesn’t mind.

[merowkittie]

hiii! I was thinking about fem reader asking hobie to pierce her nipples bc she thinks it’ll look cute to which he agrees. but when he gets them done he’s literally so horny bc of how hot they make fem reader look..

hope you have a great day/night <3

Thanks :), you too, sweets!

Piercing Problems — Hobie Brown

Summary: Hobie gets a little horny while piercing your tits.

Warnings: lots of talk about your boobs / very suggestive / not proof read I’m sorry but it’s 2AM / talks of needles, piercings / a short smut scene (a flashback) / umm I think that’s it..

Sorry is he’s ooc, still trying to figure out his character also this was rushed because this was requested a good week or two ago..

Hobie was back at it again with piercing your body.

He had you sitting on the counter in your shared bathroom. Your locs were put up in a bun behind your head with some pieces hanging out and framing your soft face.

You were dangling your legs from your sitting position, swinging them back and forth, waiting for your boyfriend to finish getting his stuff together to pierce your nipples.

To say you were scared was an understatement. You were sure this would feel like you were dying and you were 100% sure you’d pass out in the process. Hobie had told you that you didn’t have to do it but you thought about all the perks about getting them.. and they were really cute!

“Ya ready, love?” He turned to you with a sharpie in hand. He walked move in front of you to be standing between your legs.

You nodded your head and lifted your shirt up to reveal your hardened nipples. They were cold from the chilly air of the bathroom. Hobie cupped your breasts, fondling them childishly.

You kicked him in the thigh and sighed. “Stop! Mark the area already and pierce it.. I’m going to piss on myself, I’m so fucking scared Hobie.”

He looked at you and rolled his eyes. He pressed a kiss to each of your nipples and then to your lips as a way to reassure you. You knew he knew what he was doing but he liked to play a lot.. too much.

Here’s how the conversation went with him to even agreeing to pierce your nipples in the first place:

“Mm.. fuck! Hobie, please..!” You placed your hand on his head somewhere in his wicks and tugged his further into your body.

His lips were attached to your nipples and his fingers inside of your cunt. His fingers were pumping in and out of you at a fast pace. Your hips were meeting his motions but stopped after you felt your cunt start to squeeze him hard and your stomach felt so full.

“Please what, babe?” He stopped his fingers for a moment, waiting to here the words he was looking for from your pouty lips.

You whined and whimpered at the loss of his thrusting fingers. You tried to move on your own but he held down your hips with his free hand.

“Please.. Please B, I need to cum so bad! I need you..” you looked at him with your lust blown eyes and he nodded, biting at your nipple which made you yelp.

“There you go, baby punk. I’ve gotcha ya. Lemme hear those pretty noises, yea?” He smirked up at you when he saw your eyes roll back in your head as his fingers started their movements again.

When you two finished, you kind of just laid around watching movies and talking mindlessly about stuff. Your nipples ached because of all the biting and sucking Hobie was doing to them. They were so sensitive. Though, how would it feel if you had piercings? I mean besides the feeling you thought they’d look cute on your breasts.

“B. What do you think about nipple piercings?” You peered up at him.

He didn’t say nothing at first, seemingly in thought and then nodded.

“Yea, they’re hot. What about ‘em?” He questioned, his eyes now on you. He knew where this was going but he just wanted to hear it from you.

You hummed. You didn’t know if you were very sure about your decision so you sat in silence for a minute, thinking it over. The pros and cons. The pain, pleasure, what about it be like? Then you were like fuck it.

“I want ‘em. I think they’re cute. What do you think, querido?” You bit your lips in anticipation of his response.

“I think you’d look quite lush.” He smirked at you. Instantly agreeing with this decision and he wouldn’t mind piercing it for you.

Now here you two were in your bathroom, at probably four in the morning, piercing your nipples.

You prayed a good six times during the prep process. You really weren’t one to handle pain well. A bit dramatic people would say.

After Hobie marked little dot indications on your nipples he placed the clamp on one and you gasped.

“What the fuck. B! That shit hurts. Is it supposed to feel this tight?” You winced as he adjusted it a bit and grabbed the needle.

He shrugged, “I wouldn’t know, lovie. How did it feel when I pierced your stomach?” He raised a brow waiting for you to respond.

You thought for a second and it felt pretty similar.

“The same way.”

“Then you’re good, shut your gob.”

You huffed and playfully kicked him again. He was getting annoying.

“Alright Alright. Don’t move, I’m gonna pierce ya now.” He grabbed the needle from the napkin he placed down besides you and steadily aligned it with the mark on your nipple. “Count with me, one?”

You felt the needle start to poke you and sucked in a breath, Hobie gave you a look and you let out a shaky breath. “Tw- FUCK!”

Before you got done saying two Hobie already put the needle through and slid the bar through your bud and quickly screwed the ball onto it.

“Oh my god, Hobie. Are you mental?” You stared at him wide eyed. Your face scrunched up in disbelief and confusion. You had tears coming down your face and you didn’t know what to do with your emotions at the moment.

He snickered at your reaction and clamped your other nipple, preparing for the next piercing. He cleaned the needle he used and the bar. He already cleaned the area he was gonna pierce and marked it. He thought you were doing alright, could tone it down with the screams cause it was, super early in the morning. You guys didn’t need another noise complaint.

As he started to line the needle up with your nipple he asked you a question, “Did you know Gwen and Miles kissed? Finally, right?”

“What!” You exclaimed and then that turned into a muffled yelp as he did what he did last time, slipping the barbell in and quickly screwing on the ball.

“Yup. Lad took forever!” He chuckled.

Once he finished cleaning any blood from the piercings you took a look at them in the mirror. Your tits looked beautiful with the shiny silver of the piercing sticking out of it. Hobie was behind you admiring his handy work.. and how your nips looked. His hands came crawling up your aides and he cupped the bottom of your breasts, holding them up as they sat perky in his hands.

He kissed your temple and rubbed his hands up and down your stomach and back to your breasts. You knew what he was doing and you felt butterflies in your chest at his movements.

“You like them?” He asked you. It wasn’t really a question more of a statement.

“Hell yea. They’re awesome, B.” You smiled, tilting your head up at him and kissing his jaw.

He hummed and pinched your sensitive nipples, earning a whine and a playful swat from you. You could feel him press against you and you knew he was hard from just staring at your tits with the newly added piercing.

“You know.. I should repay you right?” You turned around and placed your hands on his chest. Looking him in the eyes you bit your lip. He nodded, as if to tell you to go on, “Do you want me to help you out with that?” One of you hands traveled down to the bulge in his boxers. Rubbing it slightly causing him to groan.

“Mhm.. I want a view of those tits when you ride me.”

[r0ttingj3lly]

Miguel is so damn hot. AND THE MOVIE HOLY SHIT!

anyways I’m his wife it’s canon

[mintyys-blog]

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

Definitely! Hope you enjoy!

spin off from this post

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

WARNINGS: doppelgängers, SMUT,

MINORS DNI

You were in love with Peter Parker.

Or at least, you thought you were.

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

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

And God, you wanted to be needed.

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

But then—

The bedroom door slammed open.

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

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

The real Peter Parker.

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck is going on?”

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

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

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

Your doppelgänger boyfriend just chuckled.

“C’mon, Pete. You already know.”

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

The real Peter did know.

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

Your stomach dropped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It had never been him.

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

“Get your hands off her.”

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

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

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

“I’m gonna kill you.”

And in that instant, everything exploded.

The air was electric.

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

And worst of all—you were caught between them.

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

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

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

Peter snapped.

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

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

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

Your breath hitched.

Peter stilled.

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

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

And then his eyes met yours.

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

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

You had let him touch you.

His voice dropped lower, rougher.

“…Did you know?”

Your mouth went dry. “Peter—”

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

Your breath shuddered.

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

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

Daring you to answer.

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

Peter knew it.

The doppelgänger knew it.

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

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

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

Peter snapped.

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

But the doppelgänger only grinned.

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

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

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

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

Possession.

Territorial.

Your skin burned under the weight of it.

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

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

Your stomach twisted. “Peter—”

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

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

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

Peter ignored him.

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

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

But you weren’t.

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

And neither of them were letting go.

The air was suffocating.

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

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

You were still caught between them.

And neither was willing to let you go.

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

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

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

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

Your stomach twisted.

You had.

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

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

You sucked in a breath.

Peter froze.

The shift in energy was almost unbearable.

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

Your breath hitched.

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

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

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

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

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

Because the doppelgänger was right.

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

But this?

This was different.

Because he hadn’t just lost a fight.

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

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

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

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

And the look in his eyes made your knees weak.

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

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

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

They were going to show you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[supercap2319]

"Aunt May? There's something that I need to tell you and I'm not sure how to say it, so I'm just going to say it." Peter said pausing to take a breath as he looked May in the eyes. "I'm Bi. A part of me always knew that I was Bi, but I just couldn't admit to myself. But between Gwen, and now Y/N, it's all become very clear to me. Adjust your reaction accordingly."

Aunt May put down the pot she has been scrubbing in the sink, wiping her hands on her apron as she walked towards Peter, and put a hand on his face. She gave him a kind smile. "Oh, Peter, honey. I already knew you were Bisexual. Your Uncle Ben and both did. He was actually the first one to call it."

Peter looks at his Aunt May in shock. "You did? He knew? You both knew? How?"

"Oh, Peter. We raised you. Your Uncle Ben and I both know you like the back of our hands. He'd be proud that you came out to me." Peter nods with tears of joy and a smile on his face.