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int-writersmind · 5 months

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Fragile

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: The first night you and Peter are intimate together...

Part 3 of Potential Customer (could be read as a standalone)

Warnings: Smut, smut, (semi-dirty) Smut, unprotected sex (whoops), little Fluff at the end

Word Count: 1.7k

Authors Note: This series started off pretty gn w/ the Reader so I tried my best to carry that on w/ this part. Forgive me if isn't that great, I'm a cis woman trying her best, Enjoy!

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“Is this ok?” Peter asks.

“Yes. It. Is. You flop against your bed, elbows holding yourself up, slowly opening your legs, giving Peter space to situate himself in between. He stands there for a moment looking you up and down before leaning over you. “Are you down?”

“Hell yes.”

He quickly kisses you on your lips before going to your neck, peppering more down your throat. Your fingers go to the front of his shirt, pushing the buttons through the loops. His hands go to your pants, slowly unbuttoning, then pushing them down. You peel off his shirt as you reach the last of the buttons, his hands trailing up your body, bringing your shirt upwards and over your head. He brings his hands down your body, down your chest, fingers gliding over your skin, leaving goosebumps in their absence. His fingers wrap around the waistband of your pants, pulling them off in one easy swoop.

As your hands go towards Peter’s pants you catch him looking you up and down, his eyes practically memorizing your skin. “Gosh, you’re making me nervous…” You say.

Peter’s eyes immediately go to yours, “I don’t mean to, just…taking everything in” He goes towards your ear, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I’m making sure I don’t forget a single thing.” You chuckle as you push his pants down, Peter helping, making sure it comes off. Your fingers creeping towards Peter’s waistband are going to pull them down— ”You sure? Last chance to change your mind.”

“Whatever you’re hiding, Peter Parker, I wanna see.” You push his underwear down all the way, fighting the urge to look down. You fail, of course, face turning red, you bring your eyes back up to meet Peter’s. He kisses your smirk away, bringing a hand in between your legs, touching you in ways that make your eyes shut, his hand movements making you gasp and struggle under his touch. “Oh..my…”

Peter’s hands pick up the pace, causing that heat in the low of your stomach to grow. You feel yourself reaching your peak before Peter takes his hand away, causing you to groan in response. “...Not yet” Peter whispers, bringing his hand up to his mouth and licking away your excess from his fingers.

His hands take your hips and pull them closer to him, one hand gripping onto your hip, the other guiding himself inside of you. You wince the deeper he goes, and you gasp, going to clutch his shoulder.

“Am I hurting you?” Peter whispers.

“Oh god no,” You bring one hand to his face and using the back of your hand softly graze his face. “I don’t think you could ever hurt me.”

Peter bends down, placing a kiss on your lips as he starts to move, slowly at first, gentle, perhaps a little too gentle for you.

“I’m not fragile, you know?” Your voice is low and soft.

“I know.”

“You’re not gonna hurt me.”

“I know.”

“Then Peter,” You grip his chin, keeping his face straight on yours. “Pick up the fucking pace.” You both laugh as Peter does in fact take your suggestion into consideration, snapping his hips into you, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

As Peter keeps up the pace, he grips your headboard, leaving a slight dent in the metal that you don’t notice until the next day. His head falls into the crook of your neck, nipping at the sweaty skin.

Your hands graze his back, feeling the curves of his moving muscles, fingers falling into the dip of his shoulder blades. One hand going to the low of his back, slowly pushing downward, giving him permission to go deeper, opening more of yourself to him.

Peter looks down, his hair damp causing it to curl and stick to his forehead, his sweat making him almost glow. Your eyes catch one another, neither one of you daring to break contact. The arm resting on the headboard falls to rest next to your head, the other caressing the side of your leg. Peter slows the pace, but not the pressure. “Oh god, I-” Peter struggles to get out. “I-”

One of your hands snakes their way from nape to scalp, gently massaging his roots. “Tell me what you want.” You respond.

“I-uh-” His head dips forward to kiss you, on the chin first, then the side of your face, to behind your ear. “God-I-”

You gently tug his head backward so that your eyes are finally meeting together once again, his movement stills for a moment. “I want you to use your words, sweetheart.”

Peter laughs at this, “I think I’m the one that is supposed to say that.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” You move up and gently bite him on the ear, “Plus I can’t imagine you saying that.”

Peter growls just slightly, “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me” His mouth moves to your ear, “Like all the naughty things I want to say to you, want to do to you.”

The two of you look at one another again, holding intense eye contact before breaking out into laughter. “Well, so? Do I get the part?” Peter asks.

“Shut the fuck up…”

The two of you embrace in a hot, messy, kiss, your arm hooking him closer, tongues entering each other's mouth.

“I want you,” Peter says between gaps of kissing, breathless, “Not just now, but every night, just like this.”

The two of you break away from one another, Peter looking down smiling such a genuine smile that you couldn’t help but blush from this intimacy, from his vulnerability. Thank god you didn’t call out of work that day.

“Ditto.” Was all you managed to say, you smiled back, causing him to chuckle and grin in response.

You turn on your stomach, Peter placing kisses down from the nape of your neck down to your tailbone. He gently lifts your hips, before guiding himself into you once again.

A sigh falls from your lips at the familiar feeling inside of you, Peter’s hips crashing into you, pressing you into the bed farther and farther, one hand going between your legs, pleasuring yourself.

Peter’s head leans down, resting on your shoulder, his moans and groans turning you on more than anything he was doing physically. One of your hands, resting on the bed, is soon covered by Peter’s, his hand interlocking with yours, squeezing, and squeezing and squeezing–

“Ow, Peter-”

Peter quickly stops everything, lifting his head from your shoulder. “Oh God, I, I-”

“Hey,” You turn your head, craning to see his worried face. “Accidents happen, and remember I’m not fragile.” You turn on your back once more, careful to not let him slip out of you. “Just keep your eyes on me, babe, keep your eyes on me.

You hold his face in both your hands, pulling him for another kiss on the lips, then another on one side of his face “Darling,” Than another on the other side, “Honey,”

“God, we gotta talk about this obsession with pet names,” Peter responds, the panic finally leaving his face.

You giggle back, “Only after you fuck me like you did earlier.”

You hold each other's attention as Peter does just that, eyes never leaving each other, noses so close that with every thrust his nose brushes against yours. You bring one hand in between your legs, making quick work to bring yourself back to the edge, so close you could trip into pleasure. “Ah, ah- oh god, Peter…”

Waves of pleasure spread throughout your body, the heat that built in the lower part of your stomach spreading to every inch. You throb against Peter inside you, with him continuing his pace, until he’s burying his head in the crook of your neck, groaning as he releases inside of you, pressing your bodies against one another.

Letting some of his body weight on you, Peter lifts his head so he can look at you, glancing back, spent, but happy.

Seemingly untired from the whole ordeal, Peter climbs up your body kissing you again, deeply, passionately, as if he didn’t know you would escape and never come back.

Tired, you kiss back, running your hands through his hair as you do so. As Peter finally looks into your eyes. “God we are so sweaty.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re so fucking…I don’t even…I don’t even know.”

Peter takes himself out of you, shifting so he lays next to you, leaning over to look at you. “You know what? I’m gonna have to wash that dirty mouth of yours.”

“Oh please,” You go to thwack Peter on the forehead with your pointer finger flicking from your thumb. “Weren’t you the one that had naughty things to say to me?”

He catches your wrist effortlessly, placing a kiss on the inside, “Doesn’t count, I was under a lustful haze.”

“Fuck you!” You say, laughing as his head turns to face you.

“You already did.”

You roll your eyes before sitting up and placing a kiss on Peter’s lips. “Don’t go anywhere I gotta pee.”

And you do so, as Peter remains on the bed, arms crossed behind his head, an image that makes you chuckle as you come back. “God, you-you look even better now.”

“You’re only saying that ‘cause I’m literally naked.” You climb back in bed, turning to lay on your side to face him.

“Maybe,” He turns to his side as well, “But I would say that to you even if you wore twenty layers of the heaviest of snow clothes.”

“Yeah maybe to yourself”

“Ugh, just get over here!”

The two of you just laugh as Peter pulls you into his chest, turning you around so that your back is now flush against his chest.

“Ugh, Pete, I’m sticky and hot.”

“I really don’t care.”

You reach back to play once again with his hair, “But I’m sweaty, so, so sweaty.”

“God, you could say a million other things and it wouldn’t matter,” He lifts his head so his lips are close to your ear, “I want you.”

“And I want you.” You strain your neck to see him, “Only for your body, of course.”

“Of course”

The two of you laugh as the moonlight shines through the window, illuminating a conversion that no one else will hear, but would be the start of something amazing to the both of you.

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Hey thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed, Part 4 (the final part) will be out Sunday. Hope to see you there 😜

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meiluu · 4 months

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Tis' The Season

Peter Parker one-shot

Peter Parker/ Female Reader can be any peter :) cw: SMUT 18+ MDNI, this is basically pure filth that came to me in a dream and i had to write it, mating season *wink*, breeding kink, creampie, feral and protective peter.

*not edited*

peter pov.

When Peter got bit by that radioactive spider, then waking up in a new body, being able to do what he thought was impossible. He thought that he would be the only one in the world who was like him. But as the universe would have it, there was another.

It had been a rather uneventful day of swinging around New York, catching would-be robbers or the occasional purse snatcher, when he had decided to take a different route back to his apartment. He didn't know why his body acted on its own accord- almost like it was possessed and on a mission. Slowing down his pace, quietly landing on the roof of a building his eyes locked onto a girl. She was carrying a couple of boxes into what Peter assumes is her new apartment. But the moment he's able to get a full look at her his spider senses are buzzing, electricity shooting down his back.

This was a wholly new sensation, whenever his senses went off it usually indicated danger and sent his blood rushing as his body pumped adrenaline into his veins. but this- it was like a melody, a soft tune that lulled his body into a state of comfort and familiarity. It was like his body was telling him to go to her. Though embarrassingly enough Peter had been gawking at her and with his senses singing around him it was almost like they sent a message to her because in a quick motion she was looking out the window and towards peter. Thankfully enough Peter was quick enough to duck down, getting cover from the edge of the roof, shielding himself from her view. A huff left his lips, god what is wrong with me?, a multitude of thoughts ran through his head a majority of them shaming Peter for being a creep. Although a small portion of those thoughts were relishing in what they had just witnessed, She was so beautiful...

With that little encounter Peter was quick to head home, hoping to forget the weird experience.

It was a few months later that Peter would eventually meet her again. Throughout those months Peter would always feel that same soft and comfortable feeling in the back of his mind, like she was always near him. Come to find out she had actually been following Spider-Man, but it proved more than difficult to follow the superhero. She had been essentially guessing on where he would possibly show up, hoping to get lucky and catch a chance to talk to him. Whenever y/n moved into her new apartment she had mainly locked herself up, given the drastic and terrifying changes her body was undergoing, she never got the chance to turn on her t.v. But when she did, a surge of hope blossomed within her chest. Spider-Man was the source of that hope. After doing a bit of investigating she was able to uncover that he was someone like her, maybe not bitten like her but he showcased all the things that were happening to her. And so she made it her mission to talk to him- and to hopefully find out more about herself, and to maybe make a friend along the way.

And that day finally came, after spending a couple of hours on the roof of a building where Spider-Man frequented- there he was, standing right before her. Her senses buzzed in pure happiness, and his senses were singing to him. "Hey." Peter was breathless, lost in the feeling that was coursing through him and it didn't help that she was absolutely angelic looking as the sun casted a golden glow upon her skin. "Hi." a timid voice was all she could muster, all her words becoming stuck within her throat.

And from that day onwards they become each other's salvation. Finally after coming to the conclusion that Peter would be the only one that was like him, it was a very welcomed surprise to find someone who was just like him. Your relationship started off slowly, as you both got to understand how you both were changed- answering one another questions. you both moved onto asking questions like, "Which star wars movie is your favorite?", "what’s your favorite place to get pizza?". Then one day it was, "Can I show you who I am?".

The day that Peter took off his mask was a day neither of you would forget. That day Peter felt a weight be lifted from his shoulders, no longer held back by the barrier that the mask created he could finally be with you as Peter parker.

Slowly lifting the mask from his face, his eyes locking onto yours. Your face split into a smile so big your cheeks had started to hurt. His brown locks were messy from being underneath the mask- and he was so handsome, you were utterly lost in his visage. Peter had been slowly inching his way towards you, getting close enough to catch onto your familiar scent and warmth. Looking down at you Peter raised his free hand, gently cupping your cheek. "Can I kiss you?" his voice was nothing but whisper meant only for you. "Yes, please." your cheeks where dusted in a rosy blush, and with such care Peter leaned down enveloping your lips with his. Dropping his mask, he now has both hands cupping your face like you were made of porcelain glass. Sweet and soft lips, dance together- you lips tasting like your favorite lip-gloss. Gathering up the courage Peter tentatively bites your bottom lip, asking so sweetly for entrance. Opening your mouth your flooded by the undeniable taste of him. Unashamedly you'll admit that you and Peter spent the better part of that day making out, until the sun set behind the horizon, and only then did you both finally separate from each others embrace. And from that your relationship reached a whole new level, trust within each other bloomed and with that came love, an unfathomable amount of love for one another.

—

You and Peter had been together for a little over a year now, your bond with one another growing with each passing day- and with that growth came a new discovery. After being together for an extended amount of time your senses along with Peter's had become attuned with one another's. You could feel Peter's presence from halfway across the city, and that went for Peter as well. He would catch himself periodically checking up on you while he was swinging throughout the city. And no matter where he was he would always find his way to you, with your senses always calling out to him.

Peter had woken up this morning, turning on his side and seeing you buried within the sheets of his bed, heart swelling at the sweet sight. And like any morning he had, he got up to start his routine but something was off. His senses felt like they were in hypervigilance, with this looming feeling that he needed to secure his apartment, hairs raising and goosebumps erupting across his skin. Peter had quickly thrown on his suit and started patrolling the area around his apartment. Although Peter didn't understand why he had this need, seeing as his apartment was well protected by the many gadgets he had implemented, as well as it being high above the city in a nice area. But he followed his instincts, seeing as they have never proved him wrong before… and it wasn’t like he could ignore them. So he spent the next few hours making sure that there were no threats around his home. And like a timer going off his body completely switched its motion, senses now wholly focused on you. He needed to get home now. Quickly maneuvering through an open window, landing softly on his feet, his mind and body on a one track mission on finding you. Giving into his senses he allows his body to guide him to you.

Opening the door to his bedroom, he is immediately hit with your mouth watering scent permeating throughout the room. And with his eyes zeroing in on you he sees you webbing- his mind pauses at what he is seeing, how can you be webbing anything without his web cartridges'? Then he’s whipping his head down to his own wrists seeing how he never reloaded his web-shooters before he left this morning. How did he not notice that he was producing organic webs? But before he was able to begin his theories his mind had begun to solely focus on you, your scent and watching as you made some sort of nest. The nest so far consisted of your duvet cover, pillows, and was all being held up by your webs. A part of him wants to go up to you but the more instinctual part of him tells him to wait, telling him that what you are doing is very important and you needed all your focus upon what you were doing.

With one last pillow, Peter's senses buzz with your call- you were using your senses to communicate with him. Your hair was still untamed from sleeping all night, but you looked so beautiful right at this moment. Sitting perched in your nest eyes full of love as your senses begged Peter to come to you. And in a swift movement Peter is jumping and latching onto the ceiling crawling his way towards you. Reaching you, Peter envelopes you within his strong embrace, burying his head within the crook of your neck. mumbles of 'I love you.', 'So pretty.' , 'Smell so good.' tumble from Peters lips. You sigh at the praise, reciprocating his love tenfold.

Through the soft kisses that Peter litters across your face, reaching your mouth his tongue dives in dancing with yours. The heat within him grows. A need so strong it has him whimpering into your mouth- and it seems you are on the same page. Hurriedly discarding each other's clothes, a wave of relief floods through him, finally feeling your bare skin. "Baby-Fuck." Peter groans as his fingers get a feel of how wet you are. A needy whimper leaves your slightly swollen lips, "Peter...please, I need you so bad." Peter's entire body tenses up at your words, a near-growl rumbling from within his chest echoes around you two. Spreading your legs, giving Peter an open invitation to fuck you, and he accepts it without hesitation. Lining his aching cock that's dripping pre-cum at your cunt, only a moment later is Peter sinking into you. Satisfied noises of pleasure leave the both of you, pushing to the hilt- hips flushed with one another. Peter is leaning over, his face over yours, and his arms are snugly wrapped around your body.

Grinding his cock further into you, eyes rolling back at the feel of your walls trying to suck him in further. Another whimper of Peter's name has him losing all semblance of care as he starts at a rough and fast pace. Your cunt is warm and dripping, and with every harsh thrust of Peter's hips it has your eyes rolling into the back of your head- moans of pleasure being punched out of you with every harsh plunge of his cock. Latching onto his muscular back, trying to keep yourself grounded to him- seeing as it's not enough you twist your head to the side biting down hard into the skin where his shoulder and neck meet. A loud 'Fuck' accompanied with your name tumbles from Peter's lips. Manhandling you, Peter moves your legs to rest upon his shoulders as he latches onto the blanket and pillows around you. Fucking into you with every bit of strength within him, mind and body on the sole mission to mate you and to truly make you his. Your body in tune with his, you are spreading your legs wider as your hands latch onto Peter's backside, trying to communicate with Peter but failing as a messy jumble of words is all you can muster. But thankfully Peter catches onto your message, sliding his hand down to your backside he tilts your hips upwards towards him. Allowing him to reach so deep into you, you swear you could feel him within your throat. Thrust after thrust, you feel yourself reaching closer to euphoria, thighs quivering in anticipation as your cunt continues to dribble its arousal around Peters pistoning cock. Leaving one side of Peter's backside you snake your free hand to your clit. Rubbing hasty circles around the bundle of nerves, and not too soon later you're cumming. Cunt rhythmically squeezing around Peter's cock, begging it to fill you. A moan tumbles from Peter's lips as he feels your walls tighten around him, feeling hot pleasure roll down his back before he feels himself cumming into you. Sloppy thrusts of Peter riding out both of your highs slowly come to a stop. Breathless and flushed in residual pleasure you both gently turn to your sides, making sure to stay connected as you both come down from your highs. Exhaustion is quick to take you both, wrapped in each other's embrace, still connected as one.

Peter doesn’t know what time it is when he wakes, all he knows is that he needs you and you need him. Maneuvering you onto your hands and knees, sinking into you. A pleasure filled moan falls from your lips, jutting your hips up giving Peter a better angle to fuck you deeper. Hips pistoning into you, latching onto the blankets around you trying to keep yourself steady with Peter's brutal thrusts. Unhappy with how far apart you are Peter is leaning forward, front to your back. Face right next to your ear. Your mind is soon flooded with the sounds of Peter's pleasure. A moan leaves you as Peter bites down onto your shoulder, and brings one of his hands to your clit. Swirling his fingers around your bundle of nerves, your body is quick to go pliant under him. Letting him fuck and fill you to his content, your body sings in happiness when you cum around his cock and Peter is soon to follow in your lead. Warmth pools within your belly, a content smile takes over your face. And with that you are snuggling deeper into your nest, falling back asleep.

Peter huffs out a breath, slowly removing himself from your cunt. His mind is the most clear it’s been since the last time he was awake. Making sure you are secure in your bundle of blankets, Peter quietly descends from your nest, putting on a pair of sweats. Now Peters mind is trying to figure out how long you’ve both been in your nest, doing nothing else but fucking. In the haze of his memories he sees that he would periodically leave the nest to get you both feed, would fuck again and then fall asleep with you. Peter heads over to his phone, quickly doing mental math…and shit he’s been with you for nearly 5 days! But before he can stress about that fact, his senses are going into overdrive.

Someone was coming to his door. Thankfully the apartment was dark, with the only illumination being from the full moon seeping in through the curtains. Peter is jumping to the ceiling, a whirlwind of protectiveness and anger swirling within his chest. Then he hears the front door open. Using the shadows to his advantage, Peter is quietly crawling into the living room. His mind is flooding with all the ways he could kill the intruder. Looking down from the ceiling he can make out a couple of figures, voices merging together. Readying his arm, waiting until…Now! With fast and precise movements he’s webbing the intruders to the adjacent wall, but before he can web up the last intruder his mind is halted by his voice being called out. “Peter! What the hell kid!” Tony’s voice rings through his head. “Jarvis, turn on the lights.” Light floods the living room, and with it Peter is able to see Tony with his hands up in surrender. And to the adjacent wall he sees, Steve, Bucky and Sam webbed to the wall. Mind reeling at what he sees, shame floods through his body. He was going to kill them! What is wrong with him…”Kid, you need to calm down- or you're going to pass out.” Tony's voice is soothing, and with that Peters is able to realize he’s been hyperventilating. Slowly calming his breathing, he lowers his arm backing away from Tony. “What, what are you doing here?” Peter's voice is barely above a whisper. A concerned look crosses Tony’s face, “Kid you’ve been M.I.A for 5 days, we were getting worried when you didn’t respond to us.” Peter's body is slowly relaxing, “I- I’m sorry, I’ve been…busy.” Cringing internally at the word ‘busy’. “Kid, you're gonna have to give me more than just ‘busy’. We haven’t seen you in 5 days, no sight of you swinging around New York. Thank god you have Jarvis installed, because without him we wouldn’t even know if you were alive.”

Peter's gut churns, shame and guilt swirling within him. “Can I come by the tower tomorrow, then I can explain everything.” Tony has a sympathetic look upon his face, “Peter-“ Peter soon stops listening to him when he feels his senses buzz, you are awake and you're terrified. Worried that Peter wasn’t there when you awoke to what sounded like a fight going on in the living room. Whipping his head to the bedroom, he tries to communicate that you needed to stay in the bedroom. Then in the corner of his eye he sees Tony moving towards him- getting closer to you. “No! Stay back, don’t take another step.” Shock mars Tony’s features, Peter had growled out his words. They were nothing short of a command, his face was painted in anger and fierce protectiveness. Arms ready to web him to the wall. “Kid! I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I know that but I can’t let you get closer to her, you guys need to leave. Please..” Tony takes a moment before nodding his hand and then makes his way to the others that have been stuck to the wall this entire time. Quickly cutting them free, Peter watches as they eventually leave, now his body can finally truly relax. Shoulders slumping in relief. But that relief is short lived with the weight of what he was supposed to do now.

How in the world was he going to explain this Tony and to you now that you’re awake?!

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periprose · 6 months

Note

Angsty/Sad imagine idea for insomniac!peter parker

Reader dies in his arms or he visits her grave for the first time and he says something like "we weren't supposed to end like this" and its just sad....

😭 this ask made me sad but also excited to write! Thanks for requesting it.

"How is Spider-Man supposed to reach us in time?" The woman tied up next to you quivered in fear. "Those assholes having been taunting their guns for the last twenty minutes... oh God..."

You never worried if Peter would show up to rescue you in time. Ever since Fisk had gotten jailed, multiple up-and-coming criminals had taken this as their chance to shine.

Unfortunately for you, that meant being kidnapped or harassed, and often you'd get out of those situations thanks to the police- but being Spider-Man's girlfriend sometimes had it's privileges, namely that you could text him discreetly for help and he'd be on his way.

You always felt bad about it. You knew there were worse, harsher things happening out there. But Peter always insisted that you ask for help.

Usually it would end in a quick brawl, and you'd be safely thwipped into his arms, no harm done as you'd swing back to your apartment in safety.

This time, though? It's a lot more serious. These thugs want to "directly send a message to Spider-Man", and it's by poor luck that they've discovered your connection to him.

Every once in a while, they taunt you, but you're sure Peter will rescue you. You've sent him a text and he's read it- he must be frantically swinging right now.

"He's coming, don't worry." You try to comfort the woman beside you, but to no avail- she mutters that Spider-Man doesn't deserve a girlfriend if this is what happens to her, and that you need higher standards.

"This one's getting too confident, boss." One of the thugs kicks your side after hearing your remark, and you wince. "Being pretty won't save you now, bitch."

The woman next to you shrieks in fear- but she suddenly gasps in relief, and you see him, red-and-blue Spider-Man saviour swinging directly to the intersection you're currently kneeling at.

"I've got you, stay down!" Spider-Man shouts at you and the other hostages. He doesn't have a hint of his usual, tension-breaking humour, and it fills you with dread.

The pavement hurts your knees, but you stay down, not wanting to draw attention now as Spider-Man attacks and webs up your kidnappers. He's putting a lot more emphasis into his punches- it seems like they've really ruffled his feathers this time.

Of course, Peter's actually furious- he doesn't know how they figured out your connection to him, and he's desperate to take you away and hide you somewhere safe.

He wonders if he can convince you to move to New Jersey.

After a blur of punches, Peter sees that there's just one more guy to defeat- he swings forward, the guy shoots his gun, a flurry of bullets ricocheting everywhere, and Peter doesn't care about the sudden searing pain in his side- he takes him down.

He turns- hoping that you're still okay to go home now- but the woman next to you is crying hysterically, pointing to your slumped over body.

Oh no. Oh no. No, no, no.

Peter starts running, not with the confident poise of Spider-Man, but with the fear of a young man about to lose the one person he truly, truly cared about.

He scrambles over the pavement, where you're lying in a pool of your own blood, gunshot wounds scattered across your body- it just seems unnecessarily unfair, so needlessly cruel that the universe decided that you would take all those bullets. They should've hit him- he would've gladly taken every single shot.

"No, no. Please-" Peter squeezes your hand, as you look up at him, tears falling out of your eyes. Your face is ghostly pale, you're shuddering- but you still have enough time to say something.

"Keep... going..." You try, because you don't want Peter to blame himself for your own stupidity.

"No. Please, somebody help her!" Peter shouts, gritting his teeth, and there's nobody left here but him and you. Everyone else has ran off- and Peter's too shaken to call an ambulance at this moment. "I don't know what to do, don't- don't-"

You know what he means, and you're trying. You're using all your might to not die here, to let yourself be rescued and healed. But you can't let Peter stay agonized like this, not when he means so much to people, not when he protects so much more than just you, so you use your last reserve of energy to speak, even though he tries to shush you.

"New York... needs... you."

"I need you!" Peter yells, and you can tell he's crying under the mask. "It should've been me, I could've taken it- please don't-"

But Peter's luck always runs out, and it seems like the universe wants him to lose even more than he ever has. Your grip loosens from his hand, your eyes glaze over, and even though he sobs, clings on to you even more tightly- you just aren't there to hug him back this time.

It's been a month since Peter lost you so unceremoniously.

He stares at your gravestone in disbelief. None of this feels real- he was sure that if anyone in this world had to die from random criminals, it should've been him.

All the time, he feels like he's waiting for a phone call from you. He still swings by your apartment- your things have been removed, he can see that through the window.

Even though he saw your body being taken away into the ambulance, where you were immediately proclaimed dead, and he was at your funeral. It's like the reality of the situation is refusing to sink in his mind.

Even worse, he's taken out his rage on every petty criminal that comes his way now, as Spider-Man. J. Jonah Jameson loves it, calls him even more of a vengeance on the city, and that he should be behind bars.

Peter would be behind bars gladly if it meant you would've been safe. Maybe being Spider-Man was a mistake.

But he can't forget your last words. The last thing Peter would ever do is disappoint you, and he knows what you wanted. That he would keep protecting the city, that he would keep going despite it all.

Damn it, he hates you sometimes. Hates that you still know how to inspire hope in him, that you're such a significant presence in his heart that you're permanently etched there now. He hates how much he loves you, and how he's going to forever listen to you.

He just wishes you were here to see it through.

"We weren't supposed to end like this. It was supposed to be me and you, together, living a full life." He whispers. "It... it was supposed to be us, and our kids, our grandkids, hell even great grandkids, and then, only then, would I accept it. That we would be allowed to-"

He still can't bring himself to say die. So he lets himself swallow the agony, the sobs that always threaten to ebb out of his throat, and rests another bouquet of flowers at your grave.

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measuringbliss · 11 months

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okay but now that we have the confirmation that

peter knows harry's dying and it's his priority to remedy this

peter has the symbiote suit

i'm very inspired

#insomniac spider-man #spider-man #parksborn #harry osborn #peter parker #spider-man 2 #spider-man ps4 #oooooh the sparks between angry peter and weak harry #this is literally the opposite of my current smut series what the hell lmao #yeah i can feel it coming. the inspiration. the whump. the dubcon. omg.

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deadduvznap · 11 months

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hmmmm might be unknown to the new miguel fuckers but he doesnt need to make web fluid, hes an organic web creator in the comics (not sure about the movie tho)

#im playing spider-man ps4 anf i remembered #tobey maguire spider-man is also an organic web producer #atlas speaks #miguel o'hara #miguel #miguel smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader

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lynnlovesspidahman · 9 months

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LYNN’S MASTERLIST

requests are open! 😊

PETER PARKER

are you bored yet?

this is me trying. part 1. part 2.

fearless.

happy birthday.

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ichangedmycornyahhname · 11 months

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(Please comment which point of view you would like me to write in!)

#x reader #smut #ps4 Spider-Man x reader #ps5 Spider-Man x reader smut #Spider-Man smut #new story?

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spidezer · 2 years

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shoutout to you for being thee spideynova king. i wasn’t even scrolling through your blog, just the spideynova tag LMAO i respect it

thank you so much its the autism and the fandom having a total of four (4) people

#me when obsessed with two variations of spider-man where the fanbase is either nothing or full of dudebros #shoutout to my boys ultimate and ps4 peter parker!!! dead on #i dont post ab ps4 here bc i opened the tag once and saw doc ock smut #thanks anon this made my day i love it when people associate me w spideynova 😄😄😄#genuinely i cried once bc one of my mutuals said they think of me when they see nova

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powereddonut · 9 months

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"Love's Web Unwoven" Masterlist

summary(?): ☘︎ тнє ѕтяυggℓє ιѕ ѕнσят нσωєνєя ƒяαηтι¢. ωнαт ∂єƒєαт тнαт ωαѕ ησт ∂єαℓт ву уσυ, єνєя ℓαу ιη уσυя ηєт? α вяσσм, α ƒℓαмє, α ƒσσт, α ѕтяσηgєя мαтє. - Thomas Cole ☘︎

☸︎ warning(s): heavy swearing, violence, past character death, angst, PAST suicide attempt, jealousy (is that a warning?), NSFW content (will have another warning when the time comes), more will be added when I think of them

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hanasnx · 2 years

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rain - spider-man / peter parker

summary: sweet sweet spider-loving. MINORS DNI

character(s): spider-man / peter parker x fem!reader (can be any spider-man you imagine like tasm)

word count: 5k

warnings: explicit sex, spidey being very impatient, mask kink mask kink mask kink & suit kink <3, VERY SLIGHT dub con because there was no explicit ask for consent— things were implied, no capitalization i apologize if it bothers u

notes: this is my first smut fic that’s been finished. ive been writing for a long time but this is the first time i’ve put it on anything :) i imagine spider-man from the 2018 insomniac game on ps4 “marvel’s spider-man” his voice actor and his character design is my favorite but you can imagine any spider-man u want, holland, garfield, maguire hehe

the droplets of rain pitter pattered onto peter’s suit and he shivered from the biting cold. the combination of water and fifty two degrees. he sniffed and rubbed his nose. “wish i had read the weather report before i went out.” he thought aloud to himself. early in the game he realized no one could hear him when he was perched on the corner of rooftops. it was safe to let that little voice inside become vocal. everyone had one. everyone talks to themselves. he likes to think it helps him organize. realistically, it’s less lonely.

ah, aloneness. he used to covet it. the isolation. it was quiet and safe, and he knew himself best. he didn’t have to talk to anyone. no one talked to him.

“god, i’m gonna go crazy.” peter aimed and swung away, looking for trouble.

he dialed. he waited. she picked up. “yuri? tell me you have something,”

“uh… no. not right now anyway. you’ve pretty much cleared up the last of the loose ends, spider-man. nice work.” her tone was refreshingly grateful, but his heart sunk with disappointment. he needed some action, itching for it. if he had ever been addicted before, he would recognize this as a need for a fix. something had to get his adrenaline pumping. yuri realized the silence. “what? you only answer to ‘spider-cop’ now?” she taunted. peter didn’t take the bait unusually. “hey, is there something wro—?”

“thanks anyway, yuri. gotta go.”

“um, ok—“

he hung up and landed on an edge. he groaned to the sky, as if he needed to tell it his frustrations. he should be happy to go home, have a night off. but he just felt stuck. and restless. he raised his arms, level to his shoulders, stretching out his chest. “breathe, spidey, breathe.” he closed his eyes. inhale, hold, exhale. he tipped backward, falling. inhale, hold, exhale. in perfect form, he flipped. over and over again. when did i get used to this much g-force? how has my head not been bashed in by a ledge? how many times can i flip before i forget which way is up? inhale, hold, exhale.

you.

peter’s eyes opened. he saw the world familiarly, zipping by him. it was too much. he shut them again. and in the comforting darkness, you returned, like a dream. you were an imprint on his brain.

“peter,” you cooed lovingly, “why don’t you come over, peter? you never visit me anymore.”

he opened his eyes. the ground was growing increasingly nearer, faster than he remembered it could. oh, but he couldn’t let go of you now. not yet. he squeezed them closed, desperately grasping onto the cusp of this new fantasy.

“i’m getting tired of waiting for you, peter~” you growled, disguised as a humble murmur, and you sank deeper into the cushions of the bed. your impatience poisoned him. he wanted to please you.

but you were just so irresistible, pouting or not. he took notice of how he pictured you. wearing a lavender silk nightgown that ended high on your thigh, with dangling strings of bows and dainty mesh.

god her nipples are hard.

your eyebrows raised as if you heard his thoughts and he felt blush heat up his cheeks. embarrassed, until your eyes wandered down his abdomen, landing on his clothed sex. “guess they’re not the only ones that are hard, huh?” you got on her hands and knees, and his pants tightened; frozen in place as you crawled towards him. he knew he’d start stuttering by now if this was real. blubbering as he helplessly watched you undo the buckle of his pants. “but you know what’s even harder, peter?” you asked him in a whisper, raising yourself properly on your knees so you could ghost your lips over his.

he leaned into you, chasing your mouth. “what?” he replied in a murmur, determined to silence you with his kiss.

you lingered a moment, gaze flickering from his eyes to his lips. your hand grasped his length and peter’s breath hitched in his throat. “the ground when you don’t pull up.” you lulled. he hesitated, drawing back.

“what?”

your voice rang clear, resounding in his skull like a bell. “pull up, peter. pull up!”

“woah!” he opened his eyes just in time, webbing an edge at the last second before he flattened on the pavement like a real bug. his fingers curled around the ledge and he pulled himself up to sit, breathing hard. he pushed the air from his lungs in a huff, going limp and laying on his back on the rooftop. he picked up his phone.

there was nothing on your snapchat story besides your cat. instagram too. you weren’t busy.

yea, you weren’t busy. not really. you were watching the second princess diaries movie because you felt like getting your heart squeezed by chris pine. however, it wasn’t occupying your thoughts like you hoped it would.

a ding from your phone alerted you to a text from a friend.

i left my dress at your house :,(

you furrowed your eyebrows, responding promptly.

your dress honey? which one?

it’s black. goes down to the thigh i think

you stood up from your lazy boy and took a look around.

where’d you leave it babe?

im guessing bathroom?? it was last saturday. i crashed at your place after My Night Out On The Town™ & borrowed some of your clothes to sleep in

you stepped in and turned the bathroom light on. you didn’t see it.

oh right ! the simpsons tshirt i was wondering where that got off to

i think im gonna keep it

you keep that i keep the dress

fair enough sugar plum. we make the trade at midnight. deal?

deal. i’ll see u at midnight, im sure i’ll find your dress by then

thank you my dear!!

you smiled. she’s sweet. you pocketed your phone and kept an eye out. sure enough, the dress was thrown haphazardly over a chair. you almost didn’t recognize it blending in with your clothes but this was definitely something she’d wear. you held it out in front of you by the straps, examining it for stains when you noticed how cute it looked.

damn. well i’m sure she won’t mind i try it on a second. you thought.

so you peeled off your pajamas and shimmied on that dress. it really was cute. spaghetti straps and a deep v-neck. made your girls pop too. you turned around and stretched the material taut over your ass. “shit, girl, you look good.” you remarked.

a moment passed of admiring yourself. “well, i have to complete the look.” before i have to give it up. your fingers hooked into the bands of your stilettos and you grabbed a shawl with melodramatic potential from your closet. it added but it didn’t complete. so you tapped the palette with your brush and dusted your eyes, “god, forgive me for wasting good makeup on a night in.” you said through a funny, concentrating expression.

it was a worthy sacrifice. you shouldered the shawl and checked yourself out in the mirror. you were nearly there. what was missing? you discarded the shawl, it was no longer working. your eyes trailed from your painted toenails over your shaved legs and good boob day to your hair.

my hair…

so you pulled and twisted and bobby pinned but it just wasn’t right. undoing what you had done, your hair unraveled into accidental perfect little curls. if you kept still, you could keep those perfect little curls around a while longer…

no. better use hairspray.

to get the proper experience, you rushed over to your full length mirror in the living room. safe to assume, you were stunning. you hardly recognized you. “oh, my god. oh, my god!” you strutted, posed. “yes.” you stuck another one. “oh, yes.” and another. “really feel it, babe, look at you!” you twirled, pretending to be your own photographer, praising your modeling.

you tried to sit in your lazy boy in an intimidating, temptress sort of way. claws placed purposefully on the arm rests, your legs crossed over one another. you embodied seductive villainy. you felt hot like one. bad. it felt so… good. “you’re killing it.” you flattered yourself, but it was hard to take yourself seriously when you were sitting in cushioned leather. you needed a real throne. in the meantime, you didn’t think twice about having more fun.

“ah! spider-man, baby, i’ve been expecting you.” you cooed. you pursed your lips in thought; that was way too cliché.

you spun on your heel, “spider-man?” you gasped dramatically, a hand over your chest in shock, the other, pretending to fashion an opera length cigarette holder, “in my living room? get out of town!”

your hand rested on the edge of a table, letting you lean on it for support as you twirled your glass in your hand, mixing it as if it was alcohol like brandy or something villainous like that. it was just sweet tea. “oh, spider-man. you’re here early.” you lulled, and took a seductive sip of your tea. slowly, letting your lips kiss the glass, and the smooth liquid to glide past them. you lowered it, leaving a red stain of lipstick. “care for a drink?”

you couldn’t help but smile as you checked yourself out one last time. your friend should be picking up the dress soon, so it was time to hang up the villain version of you and go back to sweatpants. maybe treat yourself to a little ice cream as a reward for looking so good. as a last hurrah, you winked at your reflection, “baby, you’re so hot i might just fuck you senseless myself.” you joked.

“i think that’s my job tonight.” a voice coming from behind you brutally awakened you from your trance and you yelped in surprise. you spun around and your arms wrapped around yourself on instinct, as if you were nude.

the blue and red of a friendly neighborhood superhero caught your eye. attached to the ceiling, the webhead hung, lightly swaying as he watched you with tempered anticipation. praying for a positive reaction. “hey, (y/n).” he tilted his head. “cute outfit. what’s the occasion? prom?”

“oh, shut up, perv.” you fisted the fabric of a pillow in anger, tossing it at him haphazardly, which he didn’t dodge.

“i deserve that.”

“how long were you watching? how long were you in my house?” you demanded, blush heating your cheeks. it was embarrassing, being caught red headed. you were just messing around, everybody does that. spider-man seemed to take notice of your blush, and crept toward you on the wall, stalking closer in a stance that reminded you of a cat readying to pounce… or more appropriately, a spider.

your skin tingled with anticipation, side eyeing him crawl closer. he faced the floor and picked up his legs keeping his fingers glued to the wall. in a model of peak human condition, he flipped over and skillfully lowered himself onto the floor. you gulped. he was so hot in that suit. he strode towards you but you didn’t back down. instead of stopping to tower over you, establish his dominance, he passed by you, saying, “i thought you liked me watching you.” which somehow made you feel even smaller. you swallowed again, staring at his back. those corded muscles rippling underneath that skin tight suit was enough to make you salivate. he was toying with you.

“that‘s not the point here and you know it.” you started again, feigning strength in your voice but it was failing you. he could hear that. you know he could.

he halted to gaze out of the open window to your balcony. “have you been waiting for me? you left the window open, i assumed it was an invitation.” he glanced over his shoulder. you couldn’t see the smile on his face. you felt the need to explain yourself, sheepish from the interruption of your dress-up game. “and in this outfit too? you didn’t want me to ruin it?” the question was laced with disbelief, as if it wasn’t a ploy you put on in order to lure him.

it was so hard to think when he talked like this. you swallowed thickly and set your drink down, unable to tear your eyes away from him. “it’s not my dress.” come to think of it, your friend was coming at midnight, you should stay vigilant for that. spider-man wasn’t bothered at all, offering a solution as easy as breathing.

“take the dress off then.” heat pooled in between your legs at the statement. when you couldn’t speak, he added something else, “the rest is yours right.” he bowed his head as he generously looked you up and down, “i recognize those heels,” he reminisced knowingly, surfacing the memory within you of wearing these during one of your escapades with him in the past. “the makeup is yours.” as he spoke, he sauntered closer, taking note of how your eyes were glued to the way his hips moved. his gloved hand came up to tangle in your hair, “this hair…” yanking downwards to force you to look up at his towering form. even in your black heels he was taller than you. lengthy, toned, and lean. this suit made you want to lick stuff off of him. “obviously yours. the jewelry— i was there when you picked this choker out.” his hand came up to hook his finger in the necklace, drawing a line underneath it absentmindedly. he resisted the urge to remind her his hands were her favorite choker. “you gonna take the dress off or should i? because baby, i’m getting tired of waiting.”

it had been so long since this scene was played out with you two, where he desired you enough to take the control away from you. it was invigorating, and lit a fire in your chest that drove you to listen. your hand reached behind you to grasp the base of the zipper, dragging it down in order to reach the zip, and tugging it slowly and smoothly, until you were able to push the straps off your shoulders. this has happened so many times, that the look of spider-man no longer bothered you. blank eyes only hid the brown ones underneath that held so much lust for you. it was exciting, not being able to see his face. the dress pooled around your legs, and you stepped out of it, kicking it to the side. because of your lack of planning, you didn’t pick out a cute set of lingerie. you were simply bare. naked and hot. at the sight of you, you heard spider-man exhale sharply. now it was your turn to move things along, “well? what are you waiting for?” it was breathless. vulnerable. a plea. in minutes, the hero had you begging for him all over again.

his hand came up to pinch the hem of his mask, about to lift it up over his lips. your hand halted his, fisting his suit after to get him closer as you told him quickly, “leave the mask on, dear god, leave it on.” without wasting a second, he stooped to pick you up by your thighs, bringing you over to your kitchen table to set your back onto it. one of your chairs was kicked out of the way causing it to skid. the spider was gearing up to eat you out like he’s been thinking about for hours. have you writhing and coming on his tongue over and over— but you were explicit. leave the mask on. his hand squeezed your thigh involuntarily at the thought, his other one running down from your clit over the opening of your sex causing you to whine. being patient was painful, so you curled towards him to guide his movements but he wouldn’t have it. snatching your wrist and pinning it next to your head. in a skilled maneuver he webbed it to the table, trapping that arm above your head. “hey!” you called, but he ignored you, smacking your pussy to cause you to keen. “baby, i need your fingers, i need you, i need something,” you were desperate, surprised at yourself that he could goad such a response from you with nothing but a few words and a dry spell. he granted you friction, circling your clit with his finger.

“oh, you need something, alright,” he told you, alternating giving your clit attention, and plunging a finger inside of you to tease you further. frustrating you was in order, after everything you’ve done to him since the last time you two got together. “all those pictures, and those texts,” he groaned. images of your new bikinis, new bras and panties in red, your perfect tits in candlelight or your toys playing with your wet pussy. “you need a good, hard fuck, don’t you?” he added another finger, and another, feeling you loosen like putty in his hands. you nodded feverishly, filthy sounds pouring from your mouth now that he was curling his fingers inside of you. “oh, c’mon, angel, say it. you’ve been waiting for me so impatiently, now that i’m here, you can’t even tell me you missed me? that you wanted me here?” you cried at this words, unable to open your eyes when they were rolled so far back in your head as he abused that spongy spot inside of you. it was so sudden, no prep, and he was expecting you to have coherent thoughts, and then speak them. it was too much.

you tried. you tried really hard. “yes. yes,” you agreed, “please don’t stop.” his pace didn’t falter, he liked that you were responding, and he loved knowing how hard it was for you to respond. his teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he eyed yours, parted in sinful pleasure, awaiting a kiss to swallow your moans. this mask thing was so hard, but so enticing. “c’mon, spidey, i wanna come on your fingers.”

“no way.” he told you, enthralled at the idea of denying you for all of your terrible teasings while you two were apart. at the words, you picked your head up to look at him with such a delicious, crestfallen countenance. he wished to savor it a little longer, but he couldn’t pass up another chance to bully you, “i’m gonna edge you like you wouldn’t believe,” you whined in protest, but he was busy, paying attention to your clit, and when you tried to close your legs, his hand pushed your thighs apart harshly, “oh no no no,” he said with a malicious laugh, “don’t give up now, sweetheart, don’t you wanna make me proud?” it was such a mean thing to say, and it made the coil in your belly tighten regardless. he had you where he wanted you, “can you believe this is only two fingers?” he snickered, and your only free hand reached for him lazily. “don’t make me tie down this one too.” his wanting was punctuated by adding another finger inside you, and you cried out at the feverish pace.

“god, peter, please!” there it was. his name. he didn’t even have to tell you to say it this time. he wondered if that sullied the illusion of the spider-man roleplay, but you didn’t seem to mind too much. your back arching off the table. he could feel you clenching around him like a vice, but you were so wet he was able to maintain his cadence.

his voice dripped with false sympathy, “you gonna come, baby? c’mon, angel, are you?” he demands your answer, and you can only nod, your face contorted in rapture. that was his cue to slow down, which made your frustrated noises all the more satisfying, attempting to grab at his wrist in order to fuck yourself. that earned you complete denial, and he slipped his hand out from you, leaving your pussy throbbing, dripping all over your kitchen table.

“you’re being so mean,”

“you like it.” he rounded the table and drew your free arm to him, successfully webbing it down to match your other restraint. like a bitch in heat, you reflexively moved to dip your head over the edge of the table, opening your mouth as you eyed his pants. you were asking to suck him off. the act was so devious, he gave in immediately, hooking his thumb in the hem of his pants and freeing himself, his other hand tangling in your hair to help guide his leaking cock to your mouth. he would never admit how much he loves this position. watching your straining throat, the vibrations of your grateful hum around his cock, your tits bouncing with each of his movements that made him lean over to clutch one of them, earning another one of your moans. he exhaled, finding it much harder to compose himself, “you are so damn good at that,” he crooned as your tongue swirled around him just how you knew he liked. when you gagged he pulled out to let you catch your breath, a string of his precum mixed with your saliva connecting your mouth and his cock. as soon as you reached for him again, he obliged, and to show his appreciation, his fingers returned to your neglected sex, filthy sounds pouring from the both of you. it was music to his ears.

you needed more, and once he noticed your change in pace, he took it as his hint to move on. panting, you looked up at him with such a drunken content face, once perfect makeup smudged, he felt like coming all over it. your tongue came out to lick your lips and he wished he could kiss you. a second he lingered, but got a hold of himself, ripping apart his webbing entrapping your arms like string. his hand at the back of your head aided in helping you up. “i know you said you would edge me more but can we do that after we—“ you started, stepping onto a chair while he circled the table, pulling you up from the surface so you could safely walk down. immediately, you were in his arms again.

“after we fuck? yes.” he finished for you, and by his tone it seems your little ploy of getting his dick in your mouth again worked its endless wonders once more in getting what you wanted. you grinned, and kissed him over his mask to his surprise. he felt your lips mold into his through the thin fabric, and he figured this was good enough, his fingers digging into the plush of your ass in desperation. thinking of everything he could do to you on his day off. out of instinct, he began to part his lips to play your tongue with his but had to stop himself when there was a barrier.

once your lips detached, you were free to say, “where do you want me?” but you already had an idea. it was confirmed when he whipped you around, bending you over the table again. you laughed breathlessly, your tits squished underneath you, feeling the coldness of the wood. it was obvious this was one of his favorites when you wore heels because now your entrance lined up perfectly with his—

“i’ve missed you so fucking much,” he confessed, unable to wait any longer to plunge his aching cock into your silken folds. it was too much to bear, causing you to clutch onto the table in delicious pain. he was so big it hurt in all the right ways, sliding against every inch of the inside of you. you were so wet, it allowed him freedom in his pace, your hole loosening in order to accommodate him. you rocked back into him with his thrusts to meet him, his hands on your hips providing a support. you moaned his name, causing him to reach forward and push your head down onto the table, your cheek resting against it. you whimpered as he continued fucking into you with reckless abandon. clearly, he did miss you. and you missed him so dearly. your fingers weren’t as long as his, your dildo was nothing compared to him. this scene he’s created as been so enjoyably rare, you loved every second of him taking control this time, taking what he wanted.

you couldn’t answer him, instead greedily taking what he was giving you, he praised you, “i love this pussy, baby, you’re taking me so good. i love filling you. you’re so hot bouncing on my cock like this,” it made you work harder, fucking yourself back onto him, and getting more force from him in return. the pace was unimaginable, you were screaming with his thrust. his tip repeatedly kissing your cervix in a way that made your toes curl and your legs shake. that coil in your core was back and worse than ever, making you beg.

“don’t stop, please, whatever you do, peter, don’t stop,” you ordered, tears seeping from your eyes onto the table as you closed in on finishing. he couldn’t help but squeeze one more position out of you before that happened, guiding your back to him by your hair, sending pleasant tingles shooting down your spine as he blew your back out. his hand enclosed itself around your throat as the new angle reinvented your idea of pleasure, a chain of screams emitting from you. everytime he did this to you, he made sure you could never close your mouth.

“you like that, baby? how do i feel?” holding the ability to speak over your head would be cruel, if you couldn’t hear how close he really was in his voice. his movements were becoming more erratic, and he couldn’t keep himself quiet either. the position he had you in gave you a front row seat to his breath on your ear, and gift wrapping his whines in perfect packaging that had you reeling.

“so good, spider-man, you feel so fucking good.” he had such an exploitable kink for his superhero name, keening himself in a way that caused you to moan loudly, “i love hearing you, baby,” he listened to you, letting every sound spill from his lips.

“you close? i can feel you. i can hear your heartbeat, smell you. tell me.” he spoke over the sopping sounds of your pussy and the snapping of his hips against your ass.

“i am, yes i am, i’m gonna come,” you admitted, the last word resounding in a pitchy whimper, making him groan.

“do it, c’mon, baby, come all over me,” his hand attached to the arm around your middle moved down in order to rub circles into your clit that made you tremble in his arms. you didn’t have to be told twice to let go, feeling the warmth of you drip down your thighs. to get him to stop putting too much pressure on your clit, you had to put his hand over his, waiting for him to follow your lead and come inside you. he fucked your wetness back into you with fervor, tensing up and no longer keeping pace. his eyes squeezed shut behind his mask, and you felt his seed flood inside of you as he let it go, moaning in relief. it trailed down your thighs along with your own. his forehead fell onto your shoulder as he moved until he was too sensitive.

“spider-man,” you say in surprise, “you’re so dirty for a super-hero,” he chuckled at that, pulling himself out of you and ripping his mask up off his face, revealing his familiar face and his grin. he was so happy to see you, and when you faced him fully he took you up in his arms. you were at a loss to how he still had energy to pick you up, and you squealed.

“c’mon, let’s go take a shower,” he threw you over his shoulder and you cried out again.

“peter!”

“what? we should really clean up so i can get started on that edging i promised you.” he told you, your hands at the base of his torso to keep yourself up. you eyed the back of his head.

“my friend is going to be here any minute, and i have to return that dress.”

your friend knocked, and after a second, you opened it wearing an oversized t-shirt. “hey, hon!” you greeted, and she took note of your appearance. disheveled hair, frizzy with knots in your curls. black makeup smudged under your eyes, running down your cheeks. if you had thought to fix it before opening the door, you would’ve.

“rough night?” she asked slyly, her meaning shining through with her mischievous glance.

your eyes widened, and you sheepishly muttered, “you could say that.” you handed her the dress. “thanks again.” she handed you your simpson’s t-shirt.

“no problem, sweets.” your friend replied, tossing the dress onto her shoulder like dishrag and waved good-bye. you closed the door, pressing your back against it with a sigh of relief. you heard the shower running, and pete’s voice calling for you.

“you coming?”

“coming!”

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yanderestarangel · 11 months

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☆ MIGUEL O'HARA X FTM READER

Warnings: Porno plot, smut, only smut here, mild possessiveness, FTM reader, AFAB anatomy, use of the word "cunt", lots of profanity, use of male pronouns, use of the word "you", compliments, use of the word "boy", revised, corrected, this was the most smut shit I've ever written in my life, creampie, fingering, saliva, slightly aggressive sex, the nickname "little bitch" used,my English.

You two met when he was still working as a bioengineer, both bench colleagues.

He saved you when he was still starting work on Spider-Man and you recognized him by his voice, swearing not to tell anyone about it.

The two of you grew closer when Miguel began to playfully flirt and tease you and you reciprocated, creating a tense sexual climate between the two of you.

He knew you were a trans man and he really didn't care, you were natural embracing your nature without taking hormones and it made Miguel sigh, he really liked watching you as a little boy in the lab, wearing those extremely baggy men's clothes while wiggling lightly on hair full of gel.

Miguel from the beginning of the passion for you had erotic desires and dreams, imagining the taste of your cunt in his mouth, while he grunted and moaned masturbating while looking at one of your photos in the bath, ending lasciviously on the screen of his cell phone and on your face in the picture, he felt a little bad afterwards but you turned him on so it became routine.

He would ask you out by agreeing to play video games at his house after lab hours. Miguel jumped with joy inside but only spoke with a neutral expression: "Okay, I'll give you a ride and we'll go together."

Soon going to the bathroom biting his hand while screaming with joy.

You two would arrive at his apartment, a huge tv in the living room, a PS4 and some snacks and drinks of your choice, he had everything you liked or had talked about at one time or another.

Miguel wasn't going to be able to concentrate on the game, watching his body so close to his on the couch, he was going to take off his shirt showing his physique with the excuse of "I'm hot my boy."

He loves calling you that because he knows it turns you on. Miguel would soon give up the Game leering at you with eyes red with lust, you would play innocent, asking what he had or what he wanted.

Miguel would smile as he takes his thigh with those big hands full of veins and takes his own erection while biting his lip. "-I just want to fuck you and fill you with my cum, naughty little boy~" Miguel would speak hoarsely whispering in your ear while you moaned and surrendered to his mercy.

Miguel would soon take off his baggy shorts, exposing his body and his wet pussy to him, letting out a hoarse moan at the sight of you with open legs waiting for his thick and big cock.

"-Oh fuck... You're going to milk my dick like that aren't you my boy? A boy as handsome as you walking around... You're really asking for a dick in that hot pussy aren't you?" - Miguel would hustle and smile at you as he pulls out your thick, hard cock, oozing pre-cum, lightly massaging your clit as he hears you moan sweetly and submissively for him.

"Damn boy... What a tight pussy, you really want to make me come... I literally can't even fit my dick in that beautiful pussy of yours..." Miguel would say as he put his thick fingers in his mouth to lubricate, then shoving them in your pussy and hearing you moan even louder. Miguel would finally remove his fingers, thrusting his thick, throbbing cock into your swollen pussy, he would moan like an animal as he slowly slid himself fully inside you while holding your waist.

"-Fuck you baby, I'm going to start moving ok? Fuck you boy your pussy is so hot I swear I'm going to fill you up." - Miguel would moan loudly as he towered over you on the sofa, moving his hips back and forth, kissing your mouth savagely in the process. Miguel would accelerate little by little calling you all possible nicknames.

"-Shit, I swear I'm going to come, I've waited so long you know? So long you teased me in that fucking lab, I just wanted to get down on my knees and fuck that pretty face of yours boy."

"-You take my dick so well right? You're a naughty boy, moaning like a little bitch, no one will make you come like I do."

"- Fuck... Shit I swear I'm holding back, you know? You're such a good little boy to me, aren't you? So beautiful... Your body is so perfect, I just want to cum in every possible place of that beautiful body of yours my prince."

Miguel would accelerate, hearing their skins slam together as the wet slurp of lustful liquids mingled in Miguel's tanned groin and abdomen, making him groan at the sight.

Miguel would also get even more possessive as he accelerated the shaft of his cock into your tight pussy while using one hand to cup your face and look you in the eyes, irises red and piercing with anger and desire.

"-No other man will touch you like I do, you hear? You are my boy, only mine, you will only have my dick in that cunt or any other hole in your body. Do you understand me?" - Miguel would speak practically growling while squeezing his cheeks holding his face and accelerated even more.

Miguel lets out a satisfied groan when he hears you agree, then gripping your hips as I moan and laugh.

"-You will only have my dick, only mine, you are mine now, understand? I am everything to you now, everything. You are my sweet boy."-Miguel speaks practically crying with pleasure as he leans in your ear.

"-You're a fucking little bitch and you're my little bitch. Do you hear? Dude. You're my boy. You're just going to fuck your Papito (daddy) now.~" Miguel speaks with an extremely strong accent moaning in his ear as he feels your orgasm arrives.

He would just rev his hips filling your pussy with his thick shaft as he moaned over and over again that you were his good boy and he was proud of you being so perfect and naughty, swallowing his cock like a little bitch.

Miguel would soon give one last thrust feeling his body tremble as his cock writhed inside you, filling you with hot, thick, sticky cum.

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