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#peter parker x black reader

saturnville · 5 months

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I have to be that person for a second. I have released 5-6 fics in the last two weeks. why? because I fed off the love and interaction I was given. when you take the time to appreciate and interact with writers AND their content, they're more enticed and more motivitated to produce more content. so as you prepare to ask a creator to feed you more content, ask yourself if you're taking the time to REBLOG, like, and comment on their work.

thanks again for your guys' support. it pulled me out of a writing slump <3

#thg #saturnville #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x black reader #peter parker x black reader #shuri x black reader #steve rogers x black reader #angel reyes x black reader #ez reyes x black reader #rio x black reader #jamie fraser x black reader #peter parker x reader #shuri x reader #rio x reader #ez reyes x reader #angel reyes x reader #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo x black reader

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c-nstantine · 2 years

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Crush on you

Description: Peter meets Y/N Wilson

Word Count: 0.5k

Warnings: None, just fluff, Sam being an over protective uncle

Peter tended not to pay attention to where he was going when rushing through the Avengers' compound. Even with his web-slinging abilities, Peter Parker was running about fifteen minutes late to his meeting with Tony Stark. This wouldn't be a problem if he didn't have to dodge a person around every corner.

"Oh, gosh. I'm so sorry," These were the immediate words Peter said as he ran into someone. Papers went on the floor and Peter landed flat on his butt.

"Oh, it's fine. I didn't want to go to my meeting anyway," The stranger joked as she gathered her papers. Peter looked up as he helped gathered his papers. He had never seen a girl so beautiful in his life. She had shoulder-length butterfly locs and wore a yellow sweater with a black skirt. She looked to be around his age.

"I'm Peter Parker," Peter said sticking out his hand, which the girl shook. He gave a small smile.

"Oh, you're Mr. Stark's intern. I'm Y/N," She responded, returning the smile. Y/N looked down and noticed that she was still holding Peter's hand. Her eyes widened and she dropped his hand while mumbling a quick apology.

"How'd you know I'm Mr. Stark's intern?" Peter asked while rubbing the back of his neck. His cheeks were tinted a light shade of pink.

"My uncle told me," Peter couldn't determine if this was a good or bad thing. The cute girl's uncle could be a random agent or he could be an Avenger that could kick Peter's ass.

"Just out of curiosity, who's your unc-" Peter was interrupted by Y/N's name being shouted from down the corridor.

"Y/N, I was looking for you," Sam Wilson announced as he placed a hand on Y/N's shoulder. With a quirked eyebrow, he looked between his niece and Peter.

"I was on my way when I bumped into Peter," Y/N said as she gestured towards the boy next to her. Peter did an awkward wave as his mind fumbled to form any words.

"Hi, Mr. Wilson, sir," Peter hadn't had a formal conversation with Sam since the whole webbing him to the floor of a German airport. Peter did apologize but it was safe to assume that Sam still held a grudge against the teenage boy.

"Come on, Y/N we're going to be late," Sam said looking Peter up and down. Y/N's eyebrows furrowed as she watched her uncle disappear into the sea of people.

"I better get going but we should get lunch together one day,"

"Yeah totally, yeah," Peter said but he doubt that she heard him. His heart banged against his chest as he watched her walk away and he released a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Kid, how is it you have zero game?" Tony asked while holding a box labeled 'Stark Do Not Touch'. He shook his head in the disappointment of his protégé.

"I have so much to teach you," Tony said passing the box off to Peter. In all honesty, Peter wasn't paying attention to a word that Tony was saying. His mind had run off to la la land and his thoughts were consumed by Y/N. Sure he had only met her fifteen minutes ago but it was clear he had a crush on Y/N Wilson. Sam might actually kill him.

#peter parker #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x black reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x poc!reader #x black reader #x black!reader #black!fem!reader #marvel #c-nstantine

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iridescentmauve · 2 years

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NEEDINESS. Peter Parker.

summary: you and peter are just having your annual show night, watching one of your favorite shows but you can't push down the unbearable lust and need you feel for him.

pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!black!reader.

word count: 933 | requests: OPEN.

a/n: no, this is not proofread, none of my works are proofread. istg if i see one comment correcting my grammar i will rage 🙁

YOU AND PETER had just been laying on the couch, cuddling with each other; his arm wrapped securely around your waist.

Clueless played on the television in the background, and even though it was possibly your favorite show in the whole entire world, you couldn't help but be less than focused on it.

Your face was pressed into the crook of his neck, thigh thrown over his, so you were basically now sitting on the muscular skin, and every now and then you could just feel how his thigh clenched, pressing deliciously at your core.

What you had figured out after the two of you had begun dating is that Peter Parker is a huge tease, so you couldn't tell whether his actions were accidental or not.

Probably not.

As his thigh rocked up to meet your clothed, sopping cunt, you couldn't help but let out the filthiest whimper into his skin.

It was so quiet that an average man probably wouldn't have been able to hear it; but Peter could.

Due to his enhanced senses, he could tell when you needed him most, he could always feel how wet you were, tell how aroused you were, know how much you wanted him. But, he always waited. Waited until you came to him yourself.

This time was no different.

"Pete .."

"Mm? What is it bug?"

God, his voice. Just the tone of his voice sent a blast of heat down to your core, and you squirmed uncomfortably in your shorts.

Another whine would leave you, dipping your head further into his neck, whispering into his skin, "Pete, 'need you so bad.. Please.."

You could've sworn you heard him chuckle, but maybe it was his ears playing tricks on you. "You gotta speak up, 'can't hear you baby."

A pout etches across your face, leaning away from him slowly. "Said I need you, please Pete.."

Peter smiles, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head, "Could've just said that lovely." One of his hands reaches down, gently tugging down your shorts and you help him by kicking them off.

He shifts a little bit, sitting up and pressing his back against the couch's armrest, helping you to straddle his leg.

The show in the background was now long forgotten as you stared into his gorgeous, brown eyes. God you loved those eyes.

"You gotta tell me what you want from me, okay?" His voice was soft, making you shiver.

He could feel how soaked you were, your thin layer of panties not doing you much justice really. "Want to ride your thigh .. please?" You managed to squeak out, cheeks heating up.

Peter moved his free hand to rest on your cheek, caressing the flesh gently. "Wanna get yourself off on my thigh pretty girl? Hm? Well go ahead, use me for your pleasure bug."

God, the words just seemed so natural, but yet it left you all the more hot and bothered.

Though, you didn't need to be told twice, moving your hands up to rest on his shoulders, slowly rocking your hips back and forth.

You'd moan out, taking in a deep breath as you set a steady pace. He'd place his hand on your hip, squeezing it gently, slightly moving your hips with his hand, guiding you.

"Come on sweet girl, you can do it." He'd mumble in your ear, kissing your earlobe.

You'd whimper, moving your hips at a bit of a faster pace now, clit getting perkier by the second. With each rub of the cloth of your panties rubbing against it each time you move your hips, you let out a slight gasp of his name.

Squeezing your eyes shut you'd lean in, clumsily pressing your lips to his.

Immediately he dove right in, kissing you back with passion, nose bumping against his every now and then. Peter licked into your mouth, tongue exploring every inch of your cavern.

The kiss was slightly sloppy, but you couldn't care less, all you needed was to feel him.

You pulled away, snapping your hips back and forth even faster. You were sure that you were already soaking up his pants, and you hadn't even come yet.

You were sure your inner thighs were dripping with your own arousal, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

"Ah- Pete, 'm close-" You gasp out, causing him to grin, moving your hips faster.

He'd duck down, capturing your earlobe in between his teeth, biting gently as you gasp out. "Gonna make a mess all over my pants like the dirty girl you are, yeah? Go on, go ahead baby."

Peter's words made you moan, hips stuttering against his thigh. You could feel your cunt fluttering around nothing, desperately trying to find something to wrap around.

As you grind your hips faster and faster, a strangled moan mixed with a whimper leaves your lips, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face into his shoulder.

"Fuck Peter- 'm coming."

He'd snake a hand down in between your bodies, slipping his hand into your panties, rubbing fast circles on your clit. "Come on baby, come for me come on.."

One last breathy moan would slip past your pretty, pretty lips, before you came undone on his thigh, soaking both your panties and your boyfriend's sweats.

And god, to him it was so hot.

Your little pants were swallowed up by his lips pressing gingerly against yours, still rubbing slow, little circles onto your clit, causing you to shine about sensitivity.

"You seriously thought we were done? You may be, but I'm not."

🪷 tags: @jackierose902109 @kidavalentine @playgurlxoxo

add yourself to my marvel taglist!

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pinkhoodi · 7 months

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pop princess !

✎ᝰ — spider boys with a gf who’s a popstar !

♡⃕ — tasm!peter parker, ffh!peter parker x popstar!fem!reader

♡⃕ — genre + warning: fluff + peter is a major fan girl, mention of anxiety, failure, insecurity. lemme know if i missed anything !

♡⃕ — a/n: this includes andrew garfield and tom holland’s spiderman !

꒰ TASM!PETER PARKER ꒱

Ꮺ at first peter was doubtful of dating a pop star, especially being a simple nobody in his high school. just a boy with his camera but now he’s in front of the camera. don’t get me wrong, peter is more than thrilled to be dating you but he’s dating you. thee famous y/n, everyone’s favorite pop girl, star girl that has little girls dreaming

Ꮺ but also the lights, camera, the attention can be quite overwhelming and he will take a minute to adjust from all this. though, you won't always ask him to attend every event and he doesn’t mind attending attending every event so there

Ꮺ cause of his lowkey nature, you try to keep the relationship discreet. you would rather not have your fans swarm at peter’s door or harass him constantly at school

Ꮺ out in the public, you two would wear some type of covering so paparazzi or fans cannot tell who you both are

Ꮺ he’s try very very very hard to be your supportive boyfriend and attend every concert, every showing, every fan meet, any and everything. but being spiderman, and a high school student, he won’t always be at your hip at all times. If he can’t, he’ll send you a text that he won’t be there and send words of encouragement

Ꮺ during his duties as spiderman, if he’s not too busy, he’ll swing through the city until he reaches the venue of your concert. he’ll take a seating on the roof of it and sing along to your words, it’s not the best view but hey, it beats missing your girlfriend’s concert

Ꮺ on the roof, peter snaps some pictures of your concert and prints them off at home. he’ll hang them up on the wall above his desk, along with the many other cute pictures of just you

Ꮺ strangely enough, when you two are out on the red carpets, reporters ask about your views on spiderman. some even ship you with the masked vigilante and you just laugh it off

Ꮺ when you’re not around, he’ll sing some of your songs but definitely won’t tell you. he knows how much of a tease you can be and jokingly calls him your number one fan. of course, that title he won’t deny

Ꮺ whenever you’re at peter’s home, you play a cd of your unreleased songs or demos. you two would just sit and listen to them in peace or he’ll learn the lyrics to sing along. you always give him a copy of the cd before you go home

Ꮺ of course peter has backstage pass to your concerts so he’s usually chilling there until the show starts. he’s there to compliment your outfits, help you go over your setlist, and of course take many pictures of his beautiful pop princess

Ꮺ when things get overwhelming, you go to his home and just rant. you lay on his bed and just talk until you can’t no more, while peter sits and listens to you rant, he’ll rub your back or the top of your head. he would study how your body fluctuates as you vent, for future reference. he would silence sit in for a while than talk you through what is bothering you. whether it would be the lack of privacy, the expectations from fans, fear of failure, insecurities, etc., peter will advise well on how to handle them all. well, at least most of them

Ꮺ if the both of you are not too busy, you would bring him to your studio and show him your song-making process. it’s a very special and private place for you and why not show your loving, supportive boyfriend ?

Ꮺ he would ask questions here and there but for the rest of the time being, he’s quiet. peter would watch you write the lyrics and create a melody, he would watch you scribble and scratch in your journal as he sat across from you

Ꮺ if you appear to become frustrated, he silently hug you and asks if you want a break. he would take you on a walk, and ask more about the song to help you piece it together. sometimes you guys would stop for food, talk more about the song, and figure out what direction you wanted to go for

Ꮺ though, you don’t always have the energy to talk about songs so you would rather chat about your daily life. peter would update you on aunt may and you would tell him about your latest crazy fan experience

Ꮺ if he doesn’t have any advice, he will tell you words of encouragement. he would tell you how proud he is, how far you came, that you’re in control of who you are and not the public. he would remind you of the real you, the raw, organic y/n that he knows and loves. but also reminds me of how happy you look to be on stage or shooting in magazines as the world’s pop princess

Ꮺ speaking of, every shoot that you do for magazines, best believe peter would have every collection. sometime he’ll try to read it in class and some people speculated that he was a fan girl cause there’s no way that every issue always includes you on the front. that’s odd parker, very odd

꒰ PETER PARKER ꒱

Ꮺ your biggest, BIGGEST fan. he’s got all your merch, your cds, you’re his wallpaper. literally he couldn’t be more proud to the boyfriend of everyone’s pop girl, y/n l/n

Ꮺ peter is singing your songs, loudly and bad, posting your new song on his socials, the whole nine yards. I wouldn’t say he’s staying up to listen to your new song but he does learn the lyrics to impress you

Ꮺ I would say your relationship is discreet but not too lowkey ?? like ned and mj knows about the two of you but also you post peter from time to time. If not, then you two would usually hint about the relationship but not give too much information

Ꮺ on red carpet events, peter is recording you from the first step ‘til you hit inside the venue. he’s complimenting and hyping you up, fixing any small details like a loose lash or a small wrinkle on your dress

Ꮺ as bad of a fangirl he is for you, he might be even worse for other celebrities he meets. listen, he is a teenage boy from queens, did he expect to meet gwen stefani or rihanna ? rihannna ? he’s passed out on the floor at this point. if you see one of his favorite musicians, drag him the other way….

Ꮺ now, not all the time he can attend due to his school and his duties as spiderman. but he is sending words of encouragement to fulfill his presence

Ꮺ peter would be starstruck every time he’s out with you. no he’s still not used to being in your dressing room filled with priceless jewelry, clothes that must cost hundreds, and accessories that are so unique and made just for you to wear. it’s like he’s stepped into a popstar’s bubble and very scared to touch

Ꮺ I feel like peter would refuse to believe he’s dating thee pop girl, y/n. like he knows he’s dating you but has he accepted it? let’s just say he still pinches himself every time you text him, ya know, to make sure he’s not dreaming

Ꮺ secretly peter has a playlist of just your songs and only your songs. he wouldn’t allow you to see since he would feel embarrassed but ned and mj are for sure teasing him about it

Ꮺ like the other peter, he would have every single issue of your magazine covers. he doesn’t care if they’re small articles of your latest look, he is reading it !

Ꮺ between class times, he would try to watch clips of your interview and blush over how cute you look. certain questions would have him a tad bit concerned but he knows you can handle it well

Ꮺ throughout the day, peter would ask if you’re doing okay, mentally and physically. he understands how draining it is to be well-known in the public eye, especially in the age of social media. If you say no, he’ll stop by your place and comfort you with what is bothering you. also, please don’t lie to him about how you’re feeling cause his spider senses will tell him

♡⃕ lately I’ve been listening to music from the 2000s and it makes me wish to be a pop girl in the 2000s saurrrrr bad. omg-

♡⃕ it doesn’t help that one of my fave shows was hannah montana. the pop princess FRRRR

♡⃕ ngl, tasm peter was VERYYYYY hannah montana coded. I’m sawry she’s like my pop girl inspo 😞

♡⃕ I felt like I kinda didn’t do my best with tom holland peter parker ngl 😭

𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐏 💗: romans 8:26

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boxofbonesfic · 2 years

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Title: In Forgetting

Summary: Peter 2 and Peter 3 have some advice for their younger counterpart on how exactly they manage to stay so heroic in the face of all the worst humanity—and more than humanity—has to offer.

Warnings: Dark, Noncon/Dubcon, Kidnapping, Drugging, Gaslighting, Breeding kink, Mean!Peter, Obsessive!Peter, Voyeurism, Oral (M Receiving), Anal, Smut, PWP, MINORS DNI!

A/N: omg i was not expecting to write this. it kind of all just… poured out. unbeata’d, unedited, but then again, most of my work is. i barely proofread this, i’m sorry. please enjoy! divider by @firefly-graphics

Swimming back to consciousness was like crawling through dark, sticky molasses. Your mouth tasted of cotton and copper, like you’d bitten your tongue days ago and never rinsed out the blood. Your body felt heavy, and even your breath felt labored, an uncomfortable, invisible weight resting on your chest.

Bleary eyed, you stared around the stark, empty room. It was reminiscent of a hotel; plain wooden furniture of little note, and nothing but plain, white walls. There was a large bay window overlooking the city on the other side of the room, lights twinkling far below you in the dark.

Where am I?

You couldn’t remember anything. Well, that wasn’t strictly true—you could remember bits and pieces of the night before, but not many. Clubbing with Tara and Amy—not really your scene, but you still enjoyed getting dressed up, being out. Neon lights flashed in your memory, and underneath the stale taste of old blood like pennies, you could still detect a hint of vodka on your breath, hear raised voices...

So what had happened after that?

Had you gone home with someone after having what had clearly amounted to too much to drink? Had you and the girls somehow booked yourselves into a hotel, drunk as skunks? You’d never really been one for alcohol fueled shenanigans, but… it was Tara’s going away party, perhaps she’d been able to convince you.

Either way, there wasn’t much of use in the pitch darkness of your mind’s eye, nothing useful to dredge up. You lifted a hand to your head, intending to brush the curls from your forehead as you sat up, but pressure at your wrists wouldn’t allow you to complete the movement. You looked down, your eyes widening as you took in the rope looped tightly around your wrist, anchoring it to the bedframe. It was white, sticky—like it was made of something other than cloth. A frantic tug at your other arm revealed the same restraints, and with a panicked breath, you began to scream.

“Help! Help, please, someone!” You pulled and pulled until your skin began to turn red. “I—I’m trapped, please!” Your voice cracked as you kicked at the sheets covering your legs, exposing your ripped stockings and bruised calves. The blue, babydoll dress you’d worn was dirty, like you’d fallen in it.

“Please!”

There was no answer. Only silence met your increasingly hoarse and panicked calls for help, the skin on your wrists turning raw and swollen as you pulled hard on your restraints. You weren’t sure how long it had been when the wall seemed to slide open like a door, hydraulic hinges hissing as it did so. It had to have been hours, evidenced by the puffy, burning marks on your arms and the sore ache in your throat.

“Help me,” you croaked. “Please.” The low, yellow lighting didn’t fully pierce the dim in the hall beyond the room you were in, but if you squinted, you could barely make out three figures, standing side by side in the doorway.

“Aww, Pete, look at her. She’s cute.” Something cold pricks at your spine at his words.

“He’s got good taste,” said another one, off to the left. “A little young for me, but I’m older than you guys, I think.” There was a clapping sound, like someone being patted on the back, accompanied by the soft exhale of breath.

“Thanks guys.”

One of the men stepped forward into the light, and rubbed the back of his neck before glancing back at the other two. “Hi. I’m Peter.” You recognized him instantly—this was the same handsome, smiling face that had been plastered all over the news for the past six months. Peter Parker.

He carded a hand through his curly, chestnut hair, before flashing a smile at you. It didn’t do anything other than fill you with cold dread—these three men had brought you here.

“I’m sorry you got so banged up, you fell, and—” He shook his head, cutting himself off. “Anyway, you’re here. That’s what’s important.”

“W-where is here?” You asked in a small voice. “Please, I—I just want to go home, Peter—”

“We all want to go home,” someone snapped at you from the doorway, the scowl evident in their voice. “That’s why you’re here.”

“Pete, come on,” Peter replies, and your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “I’m just explaining things.” He turned back to you with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about him. Peter two’s a little… impatient.” He stepped closer to the bed, and your chest tightened with panic. You couldn’t run, couldn’t defend yourself—all you could do was lay there, your chest constricting as the realization dawned—

Trapped. Trapped like a rat.

A man stalked into the room, his arms crossed as he looked at you stoically. He was followed by another, who fixed you with a winning smile.

“What’d I say, Pete? Cute.”

They’re all Peter?

The newest addition smiled and winked at you, not breaking eye contact as he settled himself against the wall opposite you. He seemed more charismatic, more friendly than the other two, but there was still an icy sort of detachment behind his eyes that terrified you. You were a means to an end for all of them—but what end?

Peter one crouched in front of the bed, clasping his hands together. “Listen. I know waking up like this wasn’t fun. We hate seeing you so worked up, but, um, we need you.”

“Yeah,” Peter two added sarcastically. “You’re real important.”

You swallowed thickly. “Why?”

“It’s, well, it’s hard being a super hero,” Peter says quietly. “We have to stay focused, you understand that, don’t you? Can’t be distracted, I can’t have…” He trailed off for a moment, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I can’t be good if I’m distracted.”

The other Peters echoed him in a chorus of murmured agreement.

“No one understands,” Peter three added. “What it’s like, how heavy it all is… No ordinary relationship can withstand all that. We’ve all seen proof of that.” You didn’t know what he meant, but you didn’t ask—Peter two scared you most of all, the way his eyes raked hungrily down your prone form over and over again as soon as he’d entered the room.

Peter one pulled at the sheet you’d tangled your legs in, and you kicked at him. He dodged it easily, clucking his tongue at you. You whimpered as he caught your ankle in an iron grip, his fingers finding the runs in your stockings and tearing at them.

“Hey, hey. None of that. When this is over, you won’t even remember,” he chastised you. “Now just be relax. Maybe you’ll even like it.” You didn’t have full use of your arms, but you tried anyway, pulling at the thick, sticky webbing around your wrists until you smelled the copper of your own blood.

“Stop—Stop, no—” Through the alarm bells ringing in your mind, you could hear at least one other Peter laughing.

“She has fight,” he said. “I like that, but we don’t have time for it.” You felt another set of hands on you, turning your head. “Open up, sweetheart,” Peter two loomed over you, a slim, clear vial in his hand. You pressed your lips together tightly, and he smirked. “Fine by me.” He dug his fingers into your jaw, squeezing until the bones creaked and you gasped with pain. He held your mouth open, pouring the vial down your throat while you sputtered and coughed.

It tasted bitter and oily, but as you heaved, Peter three clapped his hand over your mouth, forcing you to swallow down the bitter concoction.

“What the fuck was that?” You spat, still trying ineffectually to kick at Peter one as he rolled your stockings down your legs, his hands warm on your thighs.

“Muscle relaxant. And a few other things,” Peter three answers for him. “I like a girl with a little… bite, but time’s of the essence today, pretty girl.” He tapped you on your nose with the pad of one finger as you gagged again. He winked. “Maybe next time.”

It’s effects were almost instantaneous; your head swimming, skin going hot and feverish as three pairs of hands pulled at your clothing. It feels like time has slowed to a trickle, and you struggle weakly as Peter three tugs at the webbing anchoring your wrists to the bedposts. Your head lolled as they leaned you forward, your head settling against Peter one’s chest. You weren’t sure when he’d taken his clothes off, and you can feel the vibration of his laughter against your cheek.

“What else did you put in there?” He asked, and though you couldn’t see Peter two, you could practically hear the shrug in his voice.

“Nothing permanent. Why?” Someone is unzipping your dress, pushing it forward over your shoulders.

“She’s flying,” Peter says softly, dragging a finger down your cheek. You could barely hold a thought in your head; it was almost impossible to hear yourself over the rush of blood in your veins, and the thunderous beat of your own heart. Your skin tingled where they touched you, and you whined at the feel of your arms being lifted over your head as they stripped you.

Peter one slid a finger underneath your chin, lifting it, and you looked up at him through heavily lidded eyes. “Say you want me to kiss you,” he said softly, his eyes dark and unreadable. There was part of you that wanted to lock your jaw tight, to say nothing—but your body wasn’t taking direction, not from you anyway. Your tongue felt thick and heavy in your mouth, and the words fell sluggishly from your lips, though you would have rather drawn them in and held them there until you suffocated.

“I wan’ you t’kiss me,” the words were clumsy, but he groaned anyway, pressing his mouth hungrily to yours. He tasted you eagerly, sucking on your tongue, nibbling your lips until he broke away with a heavy breath.

The warmth at your back, you discovered, was another body—Peter three—who hung his arm over your shoulder as he trailed a series of warm kisses up the side of your throat.

“How’s she taste, Pete?” He asked, dropping a hand to your breast to pluck at your nipple. “Sweet? She sounds sweet.” He sucked at your pulse point, worrying your flesh between his teeth while you whimpered. “Soft, too.”

Peter two grasped your hand, threading his fingers between your own. He guided it down between your bodies, wrapping your loose fingers around his cock. It was half-hard already, a sticky bead of precum hovering on the tip. Peter spread it with his thumb and gripped your hand in his, moving it up and down his shaft in smooth strokes.

Your head lolled back against Peter three’s shoulder, staring unseeingly at the ceiling as the two men moved your body how they saw fit. You caught sight of Peter two at the edge of the bed, his expression dark as he fisted his cock in his hand.

There were fingers sliding against your panties, pulling them aside to stroke at the lips of your cunt, gliding through the wetness growing there. Everything felt somehow both muddied and painfully clear, the pleasure cutting through the murk of your thoughts like a sharp knife. Dimly, you were aware that you were swimming in and out of consciousness; every time you opened your eyes it was like more time had passed in only an instant.

You blinked, and you were on your back, Peter three grinning cheekily at you from between your thighs. You tried to snap them shut around his head, but your body wouldn’t cooperate, your feeble struggle making him smile wider with amusement.

“No, don’ wanna,” you mumbled, and Peter two scoffed.

“No one asked.” There were more hands, turning your head, and the thick, leaking head of someone’s cock pressed against your lips. You whined in protest, but Peter two’s cold voice silenced you. “Open up. And if you bite me, I’ll break your jaw.” Your feeble denial was lost as he shoved his cock into your mouth as far as it would go, and you gagged wetly on it, spit dribbling down your chin.

Your breath hitched in your throat as Peter three suctioned his lips to your clit, sucking hard as your back arched. You gurgled out a sound around his cock, and Peter moaned, drawing out a little before thrusting back in. You managed to suck in a shallow breath around him, your eyes rolling as another Peter sank his tongue into your trembling core.

“You’re such a little slut, aren’t you?” He panted, gripping your jaw as he forced his cock wetly into your throat. “And you know how I know?” He leaned over you, his hair falling into his eyes as he continued to push his hips against your face. “I didn’t even give you anything to make you like it.” Peter groaned as he bottomed out, the heavy weight of his sac resting against your chin. “That’s all you.”

Tears began leaking down your cheeks, though you weren’t sure if it was the cruelty of his words, tight shame coiling in your gut at the wet noise coming from between your legs as Peter three lapped at you. Warm tendrils of pleasure spread up your spine. You could barely breathe around the thickness of Peter two’s cock and your head was spinning. Peter three’s fingers poked at your entrance and you huffed through your teeth your hips bucking weakly.

“You taste so good, sweetheart,” his praise rose from between your legs to burn shame into your cheeks, even as your cunt tightened around his fingers like a vice. “Knew you would, knew you’d taste like fucking heaven.” He slid into you with ease, curling his fingers against your pubic bone.

Spots dance on the edges of your vision as Peter two thrusts erratically into your mouth. It was the lack of air, and the thick weight of Peter’s fingers in your pussy that made you keen and convulse, your body trembling as you cum. Peter two cursed, his grip tightening on your jaw as he grunted low and stilled. His cock throbbed , and you could feel the thick, salty jets of his cum beating against your bruised throat. You thought you might pass out, but then he slipped from between your lips with a satisfied grunt.

Someone laughed—probably Peter one—as you gasped for air, tears still running freely down your cheeks. Peter three slapped your thigh and looked up at the other two.

“She should be ready now. Nice and relaxed.” You weren’t sure why that raised more alarms, your fuzzy brain attempting—and failing—to follow the clues. Arms looped underneath yours, pulling you up to your knees. You grumbled out your discomfort, only to be hushed as Peter one settled himself onto the wide bed. His cock was thick and leaking, the tip an angry red.

“Good. I can’t wait anymore,” he said, wrapping his hands around your hips. He tugged you forward, and if it wasn’t for him, you’d have fallen flat onto your face. Instead, Peter three helped lift your hips, and you whined as he sank you down onto the other man’s cock. He didn’t give you time to adjust to each agonizingly thick inch, either, and you let out a raspy sob when he was seated completely inside you.

Peter one’s fingers were pressing hard into the fleshy parts of your hips as he rolled his hips up into you, cursing. “Fucking tight—shit, do you, do you know how tight you are?” Maybe in another circumstance, the lustful awe on his face might have made your stomach tighten, but you were just conscious enough for it to make you hate him as as he drew pleasure from you as unwillingly as water from a stone.

Faintly, you were aware of your own pitiful mewls bouncing off of the walls, mingling with the slick, wet noise of Peter’s cock inside you. He pulled you down against his chest and you went gratefully, his arms circling around your back as he continued to lay into you. You let out a low, panicked moan as you felt thick, familiar fingers prod at the puckered hole of your ass. You tried to turn around, but Peter’s arms tightened around your middle, locking you in place, completely exposed as his cock slid in and out of you.

“Bet she’s tight here, too,” Peter three’s syrupy voice made you shudder. His fingers slid along the sopping folds of your cunt, skirting around Peter one’s cock as he gathered up your wetness. He spread it eagerly onto your hole like lube, and you squealed with discomfort as he began to press inside.

“No, no, Peter, no—” Peter one silenced you with a kiss, murmuring against your lips.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, just relax.” He swallowed down your pleas as Peter three’s fingers breached the tight, resistant ring of your ass. A whine escaped your throat as he pushed further, his way eased by the muscle relaxers Peter two had given you. He sank in all the way to the knuckle, wiggling his fingers as he groaned.

“Fu-uck.” He pumped a few times, his other palm cracking loudly across the meat of your ass before he slid his fingers out of you. You began to struggle as you felt him line his cock up with your unoccupied entrance, the slick head of him pushing against you.

You glanced up at tearfully, another sob tearing free from you as you caught sight of Peter two watching from the edge of the bed, his fist working steadily up and down his cock.

I’m never getting out of here, am I?

Air wheezed out between your tight lips as Peter three began to push forward. His intrusion was steady, slow, but unavoidable as Peter one locked you into place. You were being split in two, the unyielding thickness of both of them pressing into you, only a thin layer of skin separating them. You panted loudly as his hips came to rest against your own, your nails digging into the blanket beneath you.

“God, fuck, this is perfect,” Peter three rasped from behind you, wiggling his hips as he tried to force every available inch of himself into you.

The other Peter—which, you weren’t sure—grunted his assent as they began establishing a rhythm, one pulling out while the other slid home, keeping you full and off kilter. You weren’t sure when it began to feel good, when you started crying not for it to stop, but because you were going to cum again. Your cunt sucking and milking at both of them until their hips shuddered and you felt their warmth spill deep inside your appreciative body.

Much to your dismay, neither of them softened a single inch, grinning at each other over your heaving back. Peter one rolled his hips into yours, and the resounding wet squelch made you hide your face against his chest.

You couldn’t for long, though—Peter two’s fingers began prodding at your head, turning it to the side as his cock pressed insistently against your lips for a second time.

“Hurry up, you two,” he said as you reluctantly unlocked your jaw, allowing him to slip inside. “Strange texted—says the spell will be ready soon.”

Peter three made a displeased noise in the back of his throat. “Fuck. Well, we have time for one more, don’t we?”

Peter one’s lips curved against your ear.

“Sure we do.”

—

Three years later

The coffee shop was fairly busy, but that wasn’t really anything new, not for a Saturday morning. You were grateful to find a seat, your daughter Laila bouncing along beside you.

“I can have cookie this time, mom?” She asked, leaning up on her toes to look at the pastry display case.

“Of course, babe. Anything you want,” you replied, smiling down at her. “We just have to wait our turn.” She’d been born after a night you didn’t quite remember, the result of a drunken one night stand whose name and number you’d never taken down. Still, though, you loved her, and while it hadn’t been ideal, you were doing well on your own.

The man in front of you turned to face you, stepping aside with a smile. “No, please, go ahead. I’m still deciding,” he said, laughing a little as he rubbed the back of his neck. He was handsome, curly brown hair, high, handsome cheekbones, and warm familiar brown eyes. You were startled for a moment, trying to draw his name up from the depths of your memory, but you couldn’t.

I don’t… I don’t know this man.

“Oh, t-thanks,” you said, stepping around him. “Latte, please,” you told the barista, before winking down at Laila. “And a cookie.”

As she was wrapping it up, you went to pull out your wallet, but a warm hand on your own stopped you.

“Please, let me. I haven’t done my good samaritan thing in a while.” You were wary, for a moment, before dismissing it.

“Oh?” You let him hand the barista his card, glancing down at it. You didn’t catch the name, though, the gold lettering shining too bright in the sunlight. “Do you do this often? Buy strange women coffee?”

“Just the ones I think I might like to take to dinner,” he countered, offering you his hand. “I’m Peter, by the way,” he said, offering you a charming smile. “Peter Parker.”

fin

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thirstnotes · 1 year

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| Can We Talk? |

Pairings: CollegePeter Parker x CollegeBlack Reader

Warnings: nervous Peter, judgy Nick, wholesome, kinda cute

If you don’t like it, don’t read it

When you went to the compound to surprise your godfather, Nick—who you affectionately called your uncle—you didn’t expect it to be so busy. Especially on a Sunday. But since your semester was done for the Spring, you decided to take the first thing smoking to go to the Helicarrier. Not to mention you were reeeaaally hoping to catch a glimpse of America’s ass.

You took in the sights, dodging bustling agents and experimental tanks, eventually finding yourself wandering into the tech lab. You’d always loved it when Fury brought you there as a girl, which wasn’t often. Fury was a friend of your parents, one of which was one of his best agents. She’d only let you visit when Nick said it was alright to, but you didn’t get many of those opportunities.

Since you were grown now, you could come and go as you pleased. Well…so long as there wasn’t any imminent danger. That said, when you were visiting, the lab was one of your favorite places to be because of the view of the city below that always took your breath away. That is until you had the wind knocked out of you when you collided with a familiar combination of colors.

"Sorry, I'm-Peter Parker, right?" you asked, your hand on his arm to stable him. He didn’t look rattled from the bump, rather at the fact that your big, pretty eyes were making all the words he thought he knew melt from his brain through his ears.

"That's funny. I'm Peter Parker too," he uttered blankly, shaking your hand. You laughed, as heavenly as he'd imagine it to be, and shook your head.

"Yeah no, I'm Y/N. I'm here to visit my uncle. Didn't think I'd meet the real life Spiderman," you gushed with a happy smile. His face lit up, dusted with a bit of rose. He didn’t really know how to follow that, except by deferring the attention. Which he did rather well most of the time.

"Are you going to college around here too-"

"Actually she goes to school far from here. Cambridge far," the unmistakable voice of Nick Fury called coming towards you. He caught you as you rushed him for a squeeze, but he glowered at Peter while you weren’t looking. You pulled back and Nick beamed at you again.

"You're here early."

"I caught an earlier flight! I wanted to catch a glimpse of my future here at S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Mmhm. You really wanted to meet the Avengers before they took off to Cambodia."

"Hmm that too," you joked sheepishly with a smirk.

"Mmhm," he laughed, smile melting when he realized Peter was still staring.

"Um. So I already met our friendly neighborhood Spiderfriend," you continued with an apologetic smile to Peter, trying to soften the tense mood Fury was creating.

"Mmhm. Listen. Head upstairs and find Maria. She can't wait to see you and show you your room."

"I got a room??? Well! Somebody's showing growth," you teased, ecstatically heading up the hall. They watched you go and disappear around the corner.

"Mr. Parker, if you could see yourself prying your eyes off of my niece for two seconds, we can debrief in my office" he said, his eyes burning through the gawking hero.

"Yeah! Sorry! I. I-I mean-"

"I know what you mean. Get in there," the older man snarled, holding the door to watch him every step of the way.

He walked around the wallcrawler and sat on the corner of his desk. "First thing's first. Stay. Away."

"From your niece?"

Nick flashed him a sarcastic grin. "You catch on fast.”

As fast as it appeared, his smile was gone and a poisonous glower melted into place. “I don't need you flashing your boy band smile at my god-daughter, playing mind games and tryna boost your pitiful lil college social life with her."

“Yes sir,” he said, the color draining from his face, “I-I’d never.”

Nick gave him an annoyed side-eye. “Just start the debrief.”

#thirstnotes #reader insert #marvel #fanfic #Peter Parker x Black Reader #Peter Parker x Reader #Nick Fury #spider man x reader #Spider-Man x Black Reader

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naliahh · 5 months

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The constant daily struggle of wondering who I went to write a fanfic centering. Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Clark Kent, PETER PARKER??? How is one supposed to chose 🤦🏽‍♀️.

#fanfic #dick Grayson x black reader #Jason Todd x black reader #Clark Kent x black reader #Peter Parker x black reader #it’s been years now

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not-a-robot-i-swear-really · 7 months

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Request are officially OPEN guys!

Feel free to send me stuff~

Writing for:

Eddie Munson

Bucky Barnes

Steve Rogers

Peter Parker (Tobey, Andrew, and Tom)

Miles Morales (both versions, aged up only!)

Hobie Brown

Don't forget to check my rules page before submitting stuff!

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basicjetsetter · 2 years

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The Trial of Deus; How Peter and the Reader Meet

“Seek not greatness, but seek truth and you will find both.” - Horace Mann

⚖ Pairing: Mob!Peter Parker x BlackFemale!Reader

⚖ Setting: Mid-summer in Manhattan, NYC, New York

⚖ Warnings: Language, Adult Themes, Violence, Mentions of Murder

☆ A/N: Would you guys believe me if I told you I’ve been slow-roasting this idea for over a year? Yep, ever since I finished The Fall and Rise of Deus back in February 2021, my mind stayed fixated on where, how, and why the Reader and Peter met. It’s safe to say my writing process wishes it could match a sloth’s pace. But I made it, at long last! I love it, and I hope you all love it too.

♬ Song Inspo: Sinner & Saint by Beacon Light + Moiba Mustapha (produced by Tommee Profitt)

Preface:

All eyes in the state of New York are glued to any and all screens broadcasting the mid-morning news. Every single person, regardless of age, class, ethnicity, and gender, watches with bated breath as the wearied news anchor takes off his glasses, rubs his eyes, heaves a sigh, then puts his glasses back on.

No one reads the bright red headline at the bottom of the screen. They won’t believe what they see, anyway. Not until they hear it.

The news anchor gathers up a second lungful of air and then exhales it in a crestfallen gust before lifting his solemn eyes to address the audience.

“I don’t know what to say, folks. Truly, I don’t. This is me going off the script here, because none of those words on the teleprompter will capture the magnitude... the gravity... the just, jarring sense of sorrow we are all feeling right now. Yes. Of that, I am utterly certain.”

Breaths choke up. Heads shake in disbelief. Sweaty palms chafe, pierced with fingernails. Mouths screw up, teeth clench, throats constrict, chins wobble. Unblinking eyes burn with the reddening brim of unshed tears.

“I regret to confirm, with the heaviest of hearts, that Manhattan’s most beloved humanitarian, Adrian Toomes, has been shot and killed in his home at around midnight last night. The uhm... suspect... is in custody.”

A dark look clouds over the news anchor’s face but he shakes his head, clears his throat and trundles on. “We’ve lost a hallmark in our community. One of the biggest advocates for workers’ rights. The biggest charity donor to our impoverished neighbors. Right before his untimely death, he even set up a 20 million dollar grant funding orphanages across the entire state of New York. What kind of monster would want to—”

He halts the accusatory words in their tracks, holds them back grudgingly. Collects himself and clears his throat once more. “Look, we don’t have all the facts yet but we don’t need them. We know Adrian Toomes, and we know he did not deserve to be the victim of such a despicable crime. He was a caring man, a doting husband to his wife Doris, and a loving father to his daughter Liz. Our thoughts and prayers go out to them during this terrible time.

Just like his family, we all will be feeling this loss for a very, very, very long time.”

The hearts of all New Yorkers flush with outrage, anger, grief. Clogged with the burgeoning, bludgeoning, blistering desire for one thing and one thing only.

Justice.

♡ The Trial: Part I → TBA

♡ The Trial: Part II → TBA

♡ The Trial: Part III → TBA

✖ please do not copy, repost, or plagiarize my work ✖

#peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker au #peter parker mob!au #mob!au #mob!peter parker #black!reader #tom holland #slow burn #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #peter parker x black reader #the fall and rise of deus #the trial of deus #black lawyer reader

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tomhollandroastbeefcoochie · 2 years

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Bro I literally haven’t been on here for a while I’m sorry 💀😔

#peter parker x black!reader #tom holland x black!reader #peter parker x black reader #i love tom holland #tom holland eat me out

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