hi everyone !!! it’s been almost two months, i’m sorry for the impromptu hiatus. my grandad passed away in august and it was like the last straw for me after i already lost my boyfriend at the beginning of the year. i needed time away from the world and the internet. and of course i wasn’t writing anything.
i feel better now, of course i miss my grandad and boyfriend more than anything and grieving over loved ones never fades, but it’s gotten a little easier. i don’t know when i’ll feel ok to write again but i just wanted to come on here and let you know 💗
tropes ✎ avenger!reader / enemies to lovers / smut
warnings ✎ masturbation, dom/sub, nipple play, overstimulation, squirting, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, peter parker doesn’t just have bde he has a big dick, handjob, voice kink, grinding, cowgirl, multiple orgasms
summary ✎ on a mission with the avengers, the team unexpectedly crashes at a motel and you get stuck sharing a bed with peter, who you can’t stand. to make matters worse, you’re ovulating and can’t sleep without touching yourself.
a/n ✎ hey besties, i’m reposting because it didn’t show up in the tags yesterday :(( like i said yesterday, i’ve been dying to write and post fics for a long time but i was too insecure and scared to try. part of the reason why i was inspired to make a new blog and give it a try is because of the great writers i followed so i want to thank @duskholland @worldoftom @venomsilk @vendettaparker @userholland @t-lostinworlds for their beautiful writings that motivated me so much when i need it. you’re all icons ♡
You were in hell.
No, really. You weren’t much of a religious woman but right now, you felt like there was some deity out there who had decided to curse you with the worst luck possible. Here you were, doing a good deed by helping free people being held hostage by a Hydra subdivision, and you were rewarded by Tong making you share a room in a dusty, cramped motel with another Avenger you couldn’t stand. Just your luck, there was only one bed and, after almost killing each other to see who would take the floor, you both gave in.
And now you were lying next to the guy, sharing his body heat, whilst your own body was thrumming with arousal, at the height of ovulation. And Peter, deep asleep as he was, smelt fucking heavenly, like your very own personal temptation.
There was no chance of you sleeping. None. Not with your thighs rubbing together as you lay on your side. Not with the way Peter was shifting behind you. You closed your eyes and prayed. Whatever you had done, you would undo it. You didn’t care. You would do whatever it took. Just take away the need, and you would serve soup at a homeless shelter for a month if it meant being able to get some rest.
You squeezed your eyes shut, taking deep breaths. A minute passed. Then another. Another. You listened to your heartbeat and Peter’s even breathing.
Cursing silently, you shuffled away from him. “Peter,” you whispered.
No response.
Spider boy was dead to the world.
You carefully slipped one hand down to unbutton your jeans, and made as little movement as possible to work your fingers beneath the waistband of your panties. Pausing, waiting. No response from your companion, so you pushed a little further, stretching your underwear. The noise of the slick between your thighs was audible and you winced, waiting for something, anything. Peter was still asleep, so you swiped your fingers up your slit. Shaking at the abrupt touch, you forced down a gasp, and drew your hand up just a little to stroke in minute circles against your clit.
Trying to keep yourself still was difficult. You needed more friction, more speed, but your arm shook and so did your hip, tugging at the blanket thrown over the both of you. Your other hand slipped over your mouth, pressing down hard to muffle the soft whining that tried to escape you. And when Peter shifted behind you with a soft noise, you ripped your hand out of your pants, swallowing.
You paused, listening, waiting, wondering if he was going to stir and catch you in the act. The sound of his breathing as it evened out seemed so loud in the otherwise silent room. It must have been several minutes before you dared to slip your fingers back to where they were. You bit down on your lip, rubbing gently again, keeping your arm so tight to your body that your muscles started to ache. But it was worth it – the pleasure was slowly growing between your thighs, and the fabric of your panties muffled what must have been an impressive wet noise.
Peter arched, groaning, and rolled onto his back. Freezing, you yanked your hand out again, placing it on your stomach. Other than a long, deep exhale, he didn’t move, but now his arm was braced against your back, the warmth of his skin bleeding through your thin t-shirt. You pressed your lips together, and then you shuffled a little further away. The blanket slid up, just about covering part of you, and cool air wafted against you. Gritting your teeth against the sudden cold, you took a deep breath, then slid your hand back down once more. Just one orgasm. Just one. Then you could sleep.
You wriggled your panties down into your pants, fingers going straight to your clit. You needed to make this quick and quiet. So you moved in fast little circles, your hand over your mouth again as you tried to stop your hips riding your hand they way they seemed to be trying to. The wet noise was almost audible now, and your cheeks burnt with embarrassment. If Peter woke up right now—
Oh god, he was a fucking coworker you didn’t like, and here you were touching yourself whilst he slept beside you. And yet you didn’t stop, pressing your head into one of the pillows beneath you that Peter had brought along for the mission. Bad idea. He had apparently used it before, and it smelt of him, masculine and arousing. The scent seemed to drop straight to where your fingers were stroking, and you whimpered.
Peter stirred.
You froze. Fuck, fuck—
Nothing.
You almost growled. It was like he was unwittingly edging you like this, interrupting you before you could reach that edge. God. What you wouldn’t give for him to just fucking slide into you, right now. His fingers, his dick, whatever he was willing to spare for you. You needed it.
Wetting your fingers with your slick again, you returned to touching yourself, panting softly into your hand. You couldn’t keep doing this. You were going to go insane. The need throbbed beneath your fingers, like an ache that wouldn’t go away, and you moved your hand to bury your face in the pillow, sneaking your fingers up to play with your nipple. Anything for more stimulation, for more touch, for more.
Your thighs trembled, and you fought to keep them from moving too much, to give yourself just enough space to touch without broadcasting to your sleeping companion that you were trying to cum with him lying next to you like this. Your breathing came sharply into the pillow as the heat coiled beneath your fingers and began to grow.
Peter rolled onto his side once more, chest towards your back, and you bit down a whimpered curse as you stilled. A shiver rushed through you, and you wanted to scream.
A low chuckle filled the air, curving down your spine like a warm touch. Your eyes shot wide open.
“You’re the least subtle person I know, Y/N,” Peter murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.
That heat between your thighs throbbed again. “You were awake,” you panted.
“Yeah sweetheart, I was awake the moment you said my name,” he told you. “But you didn’t say it again, so I thought I’d wait and see what you wanted. And let me tell you, I wasn’t disappointed in the slightest to find out.”
You stilled. “I—I’m sorry,” you stammered. “I shouldn’t have—I didn’t mean to—“
“I’m not mad, Y/N,” he said softly. “Hell, I was waiting for you to ask me for a hand.”
Your mouth went dry and you immediately found yourself wondering what Peter’s big fingers would feel like between your thighs, working your through that urge. “You,” you swallowed, “you’re…ok with…me…”
“Y/N,” his voice was breathy, “Just tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”
You felt hot. “I just…I need…something.”
“How about we get your clothes off and I start you off with my fingers?” Peter suggested gently. “Then maybe after that you might be able to think clearer.”
Warm fingers wrapped around your wrist, and you watched as Peter eased your fingers out of your pants. Warm golden light filled the space when he switched on his lamp, and he let go of your wrist to hook his fingers into one of the belt loops on your jeans, tugging you back under the blanket so that your back was pressed against the firm slope of his chest. Your ass met his hips, and oh, ok, ok.
Peter tugged at your pants, working them down to your knees. Your thighs were wet, and you bit your lip as he pulled them up to slide your jeans over your feet. There was a soft sound as they were tossed with their bags, and then Peter’s hands were at the hem of your shirt, stripping that off. You were quickly left in just your bra.
“I’m going to pull the blanket down, ok?” Peter asked.
You nodded. “Sure.”
Peter folded the blanket over, baring your torso, and you arched to let him unhook your bra and slide it off you. Your nipples were immediately obvious, but you didn’t have time to cover yourself before one hand was cupping a breast, the other tossing your bra to join the growing pile of clothes. The big, warm hands groped at you gently, thumbs pebbling the stiff nipples, and your hips bucked. Your ass rocked against his erection.
Peter rolled you onto your back, and knelt up over you. His head immediately dipped to your breast, and his now free hand slipped between your thighs. You almost choked on your moan. His fingers were big, and rough, and they rubbed gently against your clit with just enough friction to have you almost sobbing at the touch.
“Holy shit,” he murmured, and ran his tongue over your nipple.
You squeaked, grabbing hold of the blanket, and Peter reached down to guide your hand to his shoulders gently as he stroked a little faster.
“You’re so fucking wet, sweetheart,” he added. “Must hurt where my fingers are, huh?”
“God,” you gasped, “yeah, it hurts…”
Peter gently probed at your slit with a finger. “I can fix that.”
“Please,” was the only thing you said.
If this were any other time, you would be more coherent, more sexy, more verbal, but Peter slipped a finger into you and you threw your head back and moaned. His thumb came to rest on your clit and began to rub, hard and fast. Tremors rocked your body at the sudden onslaught of pleasure, and Peter leaned over you, his mouth on your nipple, one hand resting on your head as his finger fucked you. The wet noise of that combined with the wet noise of his tongue, and you gripped his t-shirt tight, your hips bucking desperately into his hand.
Peter brushed another finger along your slit, and slowed his hand down, gently working it into you. You whined, another tremor rocking you, and you tried to relax. Peter’s thumb kept rubbing at your nub. Your nails dug into him. Peter grunted softly, and when he had gently spread you open for him, he sped his hand up once more, angling his fingers to—
You came with a cry, clamping down on his fingers and wriggling your hips desperately as the sudden orgasm washed over you. Holy shit. Holy shit. You weren’t the most experienced woman in the Avengers, sure, but coming that quick, that hard—? You could hear yourself whining as Peter worked you through it, all the while his lips sucked at your nipple and his thumb rubbed at your clit until your muscles felt like water.
Your hips quivered as he kept stroking, the sudden electric overstimulation pulling a groan from you. Peter nodded wordlessly and slipped his fingers out of you. Laying back, you watched as he raised his hand to his mouth and began to lick his fingers clean. Oh fuck. Oh, fuck. He kept those big brown eyes on yours as he did so.
“Is,” you swallowed, your lips trembling, “this your wicked plan to have your way with me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Peter teased, leaning over you. “I’m just doing you a favour while you’re suffering.”
You rolled your eyes. “Sure, sure, you’re totally,” your words caught in your throat as his hips slotted between your thighs, “free of ulterior motives.”
Two strong arms came down either side of your head as Peter leaned closer, the warmth of his defined abs separated from your own by the old white t shirt he wore. Fuck, he was broad. You had always wondered what the hell that spider bite did to him to make him that big. And yet he didn’t scare you. Sure, you’d seen superheroes and mutants and super soldiers before, but a boy like Peter who’s your age, a boy as powerful and relentless as him, there should’ve been something stressing you about him. Especially since neither of you like the other and are always fighting even during missions, driving Tony and Steve crazy. Though you had to admit, you probably would have been just as turned on by him if he was scary.
So you had a thing for putting yourself in danger…
“Well, that depends,” he murmured. “Are you feeling better?”
“…what happens if I say no?” You asked.
Peter grinned. “I have a couple ways of dealing with that.”
You blinked. “…yeah? Does one of them involve needing protection?”
“Probably.” Peter looked at his bag, then at you. “But if it helps, I’m clean, and since my spider-bite, I don’t even know if I have a chance of knocking anyone up.”
Still, you watched him reach over into his bag, and he pulled a little foil packet out of one of the pockets, handing it to you. His hips pressed against yours as he did so, and if he was trying to hint at something or if it was a genuine mistake, well – you neither knew nor cared, because you could feel his cock pulsing through his jeans. You couldn’t believe Peter Parker had a big dick.
“Your call,” he said gently.
You blinked. “…what’s the thing that doesn’t involve needing protection? Just…so I know.” Jesus, there was no way that thing was gonna fit in you.
“I mean you might have noticed I’m a pretty talkative guy and I like to run my mouth,” Peter said.
Your brow arched. “Are you being delicate with me? Right now?”
Peter gazed at you. “Not a fan of delicate? How about I just offer to eat you out then.”
You swallowed, nodding as your breathing wavered a little. “That…that works,” you agreed.
“Glad to hear it.”
Peter’s head immediately ducked, and you watched, squirming a little, as his lips pressed to your ribcage. The slide of his skin tickled yours as he slowly kissed your stomach, then your hipbones, and then two fingers were spreading your thighs wider, and his tongue licked a long, broad stripe up from the base of your slit to your nub.
“Ohmyfuckinggod,” You gasped out as his nose was pressed directly against your clit. His lips surrounded it, sucking.
“Hard and fast or do you want a bit more to build you up?” Peter asked, his voice muffled.
“Whatever means you don’t fucking stoP!” You yelped. “Oh fuck, don’t—don’t be a dick about this!”
“Yes ma’am,” Peter chuckled.
One hand slung over your belly, holding you against his mouth, as the other cupped your breast, gently squeezing, playing with the nipple. Your hands clung to Peter’s head, your nails digging into the scalp. Peter purred pleasantly, the vibrations hitting your clit and jolting your hips into his mouth.
You abandoned holding his hair, rocking desperately against his mouth as the man between your thighs—oh god what was he doing with his tongue, fuck yes—ate you out like you were his last meal. You slung your thighs over his shoulders, your heels digging into his muscular back as you thumped your fists against the lumpy mattress beneath you, sucking in heavy breaths.
Your back arched as he abandoned pinning you down to grab both breasts, his thumbs teasing and tugging at your nipples. You watched him play whenever your eyes could meet his, looking at the mouth and the pink flash of tongue and always those big brown irises, looking at you like he could give you head blindfolded.
Oh my god maybe he could.
Nails dragged over your ribs, down your belly, before fingertips ran over the scratches and back up to play with your breasts again.
“Peter,” you felt your stomach swoop, “Peter, fuck, oh my god, fuckfuckfuckfuck—”
Both your hands clapped over your mouth as he pinched gently at the stiff peaks of your breasts, and you came with a muffled scream, your hips riding his mouth frantically. He just pulled you closer, let his lips rub against the sensitive nub of your clit, of your folds, and shook his head to work that friction until you were sobbing beneath his tongue.
You twitched beneath him, your skin oversensitive to even the gentlest brush, and Peter let your whimper under him like that for a good few seconds as his tongue lapped gently to bring you down from your orgasm. Slumping limp against the bedding, you panted sharply, whining when the bastard kissed at your thigh, scratching you. A thumb teased your nipple. You slapped his hand away, and all he did was chuckle.
“God you’re cute when you’re coming,” Peter murmured, and damn him if that didn’t make you throb. You’d barely recovered from your last orgasm, you didn’t need to want another one.
“Shut up,” you panted.
He was watching you the whole time as he wiped your slick off his chin, somehow managing to look innocent like he hadn’t just had you screaming into your own hand, and slid down onto the mattress to lie next to you. He didn’t speak, just waited.
That throbbing didn’t go away.
You looked at the little foil packet. Then you looked over at Peter, and one hand reached for the button on his jeans. He didn’t help or hinder you, just let you unzip him, tug down the hem of his jeans and push your fingers past his black boxers.
Yeah, he was about as big as you thought he was.
You felt yourself throb again. Well, if all else failed…
“Is that gonna fit?” you heard yourself ask.
Peter threw back his head and laughed. “Fuck, that’s a question I like hearing,” he admitted. “It should do, never had a problem with it before.”
You swallowed, and Peter arched up to let you pull his jeans down until his boxers were visible. Reaching in, you freed his cock from his boxers, and ran your fingers over it. Peter moaned softly.
“You often get asked if it’ll fit?” You asked.
Peter reached over, his fingers slipping beneath your chin. “Y/N. You don’t have to.”
Your brow furrowed. “I never back down from a challenge. You know this.”
“I don’t want you hurting yourself because you’ve got something to prove,” Peter said softly.
You shot him a grin. “Worried you won’t last, Spider-Man?”
You barely saw his hand grab your waist before you were being tugged into his lap and Peter was sitting up, shucking his shirt off. “My dick is a one and done offer, but remember what I just did to you with my mouth and hands,” he purred. “You’re practically in heat so I need to make sure you’re completely satisfied. And I’ll take as long as I need.”
You exhaled heavily. “You always this talkative?” you croaked.
Peter kicked off his jeans and moved you to straddle his waist as he tugged his boxers down. You felt his cock just about pressing against your clit, still erect enough to be able to do so.
“So,” Peter’s voice cut through your thoughts, “you want the condom?”
You shook your head. “Nah.”
He nodded. “Ok. So, what’s your favourite position?”
“Uh,” you paused, “I—I don’t know, I haven’t exactly done all that much.”
Peter nodded. “Stay in my lap then, it’ll make it easier for you to control things like that.”
How could he say this in such a blasé way? It was like he was discussing the weather. You just nodded, watching as he sat back, and then you clambered onto him. Your eyes found his cock, and then your hands, wrapping around him and rubbing gently. The man beneath you moaned, brown eyes disappearing briefly as they shut.
“Move at your own pace,” he said softly, and lay down, his hands running up your belly to cup your breasts.
Your lashes fluttered as your wrist jerked, moving slowly up and down his cock. Shuffling forward a little, you braced the tip of him against your folds, wetting him. His tongue flicked out to lick his lip, and his thumbs gently circled your nipples as you lowered yourself. The slightly burn of the stretch was more from your lack of action than lack of preparation, and you kept it slow, letting yourself adjust as the first inch filled you. A soft moan filled the room, and you shut your eyes.
“You ok?”
He was watching you when you opened your eyes, hips dropping a little further. “Yeah,” you breathed, grasping his forearms as the next inch slipped in. Another moan, louder this time, escaped you. His eyes were fixed on you, gauging your every reaction, checking for pain, for nervousness. You let a little more of him fill you. “You gone all shy, Parker?” you added.
His brow rose. “You’ve got half of my dick in you and you think I’m shy all of a sudden?”
You spluttered, pausing. “You’re not talking,” you pointed out.
Peter grinned at that. “You want me to talk?”
Fuck. You’d been caught. “It’s just weird you’re not running your mouth, that’s all.”
Peter’s eyes were fixed on where you were slowly slipping more of him into you. “That’s what you’re telling yourself, huh? Whilst you’re naked and sinking down into my lap? After I just made you cum twice?”
You stuck your tongue out at him, and Peter reached up to drag your head forward so that his mouth pressed against yours. Heat surged through your body, and you returned the kiss eagerly as your ass met his lap, legs draped either side of him. Both hands came back to your breasts, palms rubbing against your nipples, and you braced your hands on his chest as your back arched. Your hips rolled a little, working gently back and forth on him. A low groan buzzed against your lips.
“All yours, Y/N,” Peter murmured softly, and nipped at your lower lip.
“You’re not gonna help?” you teased.
His eyes glinted. “Later. When you ask me to.”
As you used his chest to lean up and start to rock, you had to wonder what he meant by that. But it didn’t take you long to stop caring about that once you began moving your hips.
Your eyes closed, and you began to roll, back and forth, the pressure of him filling you sating some of that irritating need that had been plaguing you all damn day. And for all the thickness of him, you were wet, and there was no trouble letting him work in and out of you. The rough pads of his thumbs on your nipples sent little flecks of heat to your core as you rode him, and he seemed content to let you do what you liked without much other than a few soft groans.
“S-so.” You opened your eyes and your mouth went dry at the sight of the pale grey eyes gazing up at you in curiosity. “W-what? What’s the look for?”
“You’re cute,” Peter told you casually, and his thumb slid down between your thighs.
You bowed as he began to rub at your clit, and now his hips started to oh so slowly thrust up into you. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as he kept it languid and casual, like it was no big deal that there was a woman on top of him with his dick in her.
Fuck. Maybe this was no big deal.
“Penny for your thoughts, Y/N,” Peter drawled. “You ok?”
You nodded. “Been a while.”
His thumb pressed a little harder and you whined. Licking your lips, you arched and started to move a little faster in his lap, breath catching.
“You’re quiet,” you muttered.
“Y/N,” Peter grinned, sounding genuinely amused, “are you saying you like the sound of my voice?”
Your cheeks burnt. “I’ve heard worse,” you muttered.
Peter snorted, and bucked his hips a little harder, his large hand palming your breast. “So you want me to talk to you while you ride me, is that it?”
“Mmm, maybe,” you whispered.
He smirked. “Sure. I can do that.”
Bracing yourself on his chest again, you sat up and began to bounce on him, a soft gasp escaping you. Peter’s breath came gentle but sharper, and the smirk wavered just a little.
“How long have you wanted to fuck me, Y/N?” he asked.
You rolled your eyes even as a soft wave of heat rolled over you. “Not answering that!”
“That,” he exhaled, “is code for ‘since I met you’ isn’t it?”
Groaning, you nevertheless sped up as the touch of his thumb started to work you slowly up, pleasure building gently. “Shhh and let me, mm, do this,” you complained.
Peter just laughed, the sound breathless and punctuated by sharp pants. “Hey, you asked me to talk,” he reminded you.
“Regretting it,” you panted.
There was a wet noise coming from between your thighs, and Peter’s hips rocked a little as your nails dug into his skin, the wiry hairs that covered his chest brushing against your fingers. Your eyes met his for a moment, and when he ran his tongue over his teeth, all you could think of was how he had reduced you to a mess with just his tongue. Shivering, your eyes closed, a bolt of heat pulsing around where he filled your.
“So should I shut up?” he breathed.
You groaned as you sped up, chasing that coiling heat. “F-fuck, just d-don’t stop!”
“No?”
His thumb slowed down just a little, enough to be noticeable, and you keened, your body moving frantically against his to make up for the loss of sensation.
“Fuck you,” you groaned. It wouldn’t be long. Your body was tensing, expectant of the relief.
“That what you’re into?” Peter’s thumb pressed harder all of a sudden, moving faster. “You like thinking, fuck, thinking ahh- about me taking- taking it away, Y/N? Leaving you hanging?”
A frustrated noise ripped out of your throat. “Don’t you dare!”
Almost—
There was a soft chuckle below you as you closed your eyes. “C’mon, Y/N.” His thumb—
You let out a sharp cry as you came around him, nails raking down his chest and pulling a sharp gasp from his lips before his moans curled along your skin with each clench of your walls around his cock. Your lips parted, heat flushing your body, and you shook in his lap. His name escaped you, filling the room, and finally you sagged against him, breathless and hot.
“Better?” Peter asked cheerfully.
“Yeah,” you gasped, slumping down onto his chest. “Yeah, I’m, I’m good.”
“Glad to be of service.” His hands gently grasped your shoulders, gently stroking, and you felt him twitching inside you.
“You—right, you didn’t,” you managed.
“Nope,” he agreed. “I can take care of it, though.”
You sat up, shaking your head. “No, it’s fine. You can—I’m good. Just give me a second and you can—yeah, go ahead.”
You were on your back before you even realised it, the man kneeling above you, arms caging you in. You gasped as he gripped your wrists, pinning them above your head.
“This ok?” he asked casually.
“Yeah.” You wriggled your hips. “Should’ve known you mutant types were into this.”
Peter just chuckled. “You think a radioctive spider made me kinkier?”
Your thighs slid around his hips. “I’m just saying. You all get worked up so easily and that radioactivity combined with your skintight suit can’t be helping your temper.”
“My deepest,” his hips slid forward to meet yours with a gentle slap, “apologies, Ms. Y/N. Here was me thinking you enjoyed the skintight flight suit and mask.”
You moaned gently. “…all right, maybe it’s not the worst.”
“I knew you secretly liked it.”
And then he was fucking you, driving down into you fast and hard. Your head fell back as you arched up into the movements, heels digging into his back. The sound of them was noisier now after you’d gotten what you needed from him, and you felt less desperate now. You damn well hoped so, after three orgasms.
Possibly four, if he was determined.
His breathing was heavy, and when you looked up, gazing into the brown eyes, you found them lidded and hazy. It was a good look on him. You’d seen the full spectrum of his emotions, and here and now, with him leaned over you, it was the first time there hadn’t been a hint of sadness in there. You bit your lip, wanting to kiss him all of a sudden.
“Feel better?” Peter panted, his large hand spanning your hip, thumb rolling over your clit again.
“Oh fuck,” you whined, eyes fluttering shut, toes curling. “A-again?!”
“Can’t, god, can’t have you waking up in the—the night just to—mmm—get yourself off,” Peter teased with a wavering smirk that was undermined by his breathlessness.
“Much—much appreciated!” You managed to shoot back, but the way he was drilling you like this was rubbing up against your sweet spot, and you were starting to feel that heat coil between your thighs again even though you weren’t certain you’d get there before he did. Still, you cracked your eyes open to look at him, green meeting silver.
“Glad to be of service.”
His eyes shut tightly, and he trembled, his nails digging into your hip as his lips curled back over his teeth. A growl rumbled in his chest and his muscles tensed. It was—god, it was something to watch. You had never had sex with a guy who was as ripped as him before. In the dim light, the cuts and ripples of his muscular chest shone even before. Not to mention the freckles on his nose and that tongue.
“This—fuck—it’s ridiculous,” you complained, the frustration in your words as tattered by the moans that escaped you as his smirk had been. “H-how are you, fuck, this attractive?”
The brown eyes opened, meeting yours. “Keep talking.”
“Nnfuck.” You strained against his hands as took him in. “A-aren’t you d-done yet?”
“No.” It was firm. His thumb moved faster. “Talk.”
“Too good for the d-damn Avengers,” you gasped out, as your toes curled. “Way too good!”
“Yeah?” His voice was ragged all of a sudden.
“Seriously,” you moaned, “you’re all like this- and- god- th-they’ve got sticks- up their-!”
Peter’s thrusting was growing uneven, and you weren’t going to last much longer either. His fingers flexed around your wrists, reminding you of all that power coiled under his touch, capable of pinning you down, of hurting you, but you knew he never would.
His teeth flashed in a grin. “C’mon. Cum.”
You obeyed, tipping over that edge and clamping down on him for the second time this evening as he fucked you through your fourth orgasm. Thumbing at your clit, he was shaking, but he didn’t stop, not until you were groaning from the sudden sensation of too much. Then his hips were sliding away from yours, and the hand on your wrists gripped his cock and stroked rapidly. Twitching, he spilled onto your stomach.
“Fuck,” he breathed, slumping onto his knees.
You were still panting from your own orgasm, the strings of his cum hot and wet on your belly as you lay back. Arms still above your head, your eyes closed, and you let your legs relax, swinging wide open against the floor below you. After a moment, Peter fell to his side next to you, raking his nails through his chestnut curls. Slowly, the sweat began to cool on your skin, and you shivered.
“Let me.”
Peter moved around to your right, and a few moments later, you felt a cloth wiping the mess from your skin. You rubbed your eyes, exhaling heavily.
“That was good,” you murmured.
“Good?” he repeated. “Fuck, I’m losing my edge.”
The cloth left your belly. you rolled over, looking at him. “Fine, fine. I’ll stroke your ego. That was perfect. I needed that.” Your brow arched. “Better?”
Peter grinned. “Absolutely. I enjoyed myself too, in case you were wondering.”
You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Your ego.”
“Almost as big as my dick.” Peter reached for his clothes. “You wanna dress, or sleep naked?”
“Naked,” You replied, pushing yours above your head. “We can just snuggle up.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Peter pulled the blankets back, and shuffled closer to you, rolling you into his arms and tucking you beneath the covers. You curled into the warmth, relaxing.
“Next time you feel the urge, you’re welcome to ask for it whenever,” Peter murmured in your ear.
post-nwh peter parker buying a sad little cupcake from a bakery 10 mins before closing so it's discounted, bringing it back to his apartment, lighting up a single candle on it, quietly singing "happy birthday" to himself, imagining that aunt may and mr. stark are smiling down at him from heaven, making a birthday wish that ned and mj are having a wonderful time at MIT, before blowing the candle out
warnings ✎ yuh sex pollen get into it! another instalment of smug and cocky!peter, masturbation, lotsss of sexual frustration and banter, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, they love each other but also they love to piss each other off, praise kink
summary ✎ you and spider-man are friends with benefits, but you never told him your name so you can keep a shred of privacy as a vigilante. but, when you stumble upon strange vials on a difficult mission with him that rack your body with heat, some rules get broken as peter helps you.
a/n ✎ this is my 10th time reposting this and it flops in the tags, it just disappears every time 😭 let me know what you think 💗
Crunch.
That wasn’t a bone, thank fuck. But you weren’t looking forward to finding out just what in your backpack had smashed when you’d hit the rock. As much as it had cushioned your fall, and probably stopped you from breaking your spine, your backpack had been thoroughly crushed into the boulder at your back when you’d tumbled off your motorbike.
Still.
Clambering up from your position, you looked around, trying to find your bearings. There was a small cave around here that would hopefully be suitable to rest up in for a little while, at least long enough for you to clean the bag out. You didn’t want to risk bringing it back to your hideout back in the city, just in case. Especially knowing Parker would just get on your ass for grabbing whatever items you could get your hands on in Kingpin’s coastal mansion without knowing what they were. Of course the bastard picked an estate in the middle of nowhere near the sea, making hiding near it almost impossible, so you had to camp out in different spots around the manor for the last few nights.
The night air was cool on your skin as you made for the cave, switching on your flashlight. It seemed unoccupied, so you headed in and shrugged the backpack off, setting it down by the back. Carefully, you opened it up.
Immediately the heady scent filled the air, and you winced, dizziness settling in.
Well, it really was a good thing you hadn’t taken this all apart on the way back from Kingpin’s place—it would’ve knocked you off your feet four steps in. Sighing, you began to unpack everything, layer by layer. At least the rolled up maps had survived, and you set them aside, covering them with an old sleep shirt, then three USBs, and what looked like a prototype of a nanoweapon. And there, bundled up in a small fabric bag, were vials of a bubbly pink liquid, wrapped in leaves.
You pulled them out and immediately they leaked onto your suit. You pulled a face. Goddammit. With a heavy sigh, you set them by the door, then kicked off your boots and wriggled out of your suit, making a mental note to wash it as soon as you get home. Thankfully you packed extras.
All things considered, the smell was quite nice, like some sort of lily flower but not quite, and it filled the cave as you set the liquid-infused backpack next to the bag of broken glass and the pile of leaves soaked with… Crazy magic potion? Whatever the fuck it was. The wind wafted it deeper into the cave, and as you took a seat on the ground, the smell curled down your spine, like fingers of heat that brushed over your bare skin.
Ah shit.
So that’s what the vials were. Some sort of aphrodisiac or hormonal stimulator.
Shiiiiiiit.
Not like you could go anywhere like this anyway.
You were officially down a suit and it was dark out. Hopefully the smell would keep away curious animals. But your bag was going to need a proper clean, and you couldn’t do it here. You would have to find an old cabin tomorrow morning and do it there. You definitely couldn’t risk anyone near Kingpin’s estate getting a whiff of all this.
Despite the cool air from outside, you were getting warmer, and with every minute that you spent luxuriating in the heavy, pollen-saturated air, you wanted to strip. Because oh shit, your fingers were covered in the stuff, and you quickly wiped them off on the tight, cropped undershirt you wore beneath your suit. Which didn’t help. The next waft of air blew it directly into your lungs.
Growling in frustration, you yanked your shirt off and threw it against the opposite wall of the cave, listening to the muted thump of cloth as it hit rock. That only helped for a moment. It was on your bra too, and your underwear. Sighing heavily, you wished you believed in something to pray to, and then stripped off, tossing your clothes into the oil-soaked pile. You couldn’t sleep like this either. You would just have to wait for a bit until the liquid dried on your clothes and then head out to try and get your stuff washed.
Pressing your thighs together was a bad idea.
The pollen rolled through your body, like a gentle touch that left you panting, and you tugged your liquid-slick gloves off your fingers, wiping the residue off on your bare skin. Which in hindsight was a terrible idea, but you didn’t have another choice. A sharp breath escaped your lips as it started to tingle on your belly, and heat pulsed to life between your thighs. You clenched your jaw. You’d fucked up. Fuck. You really had just rubbed a goddamn aphrodisiac into your body, hadn’t you?
Exhaling heavily, you sat back against the rock. Well, this was going to be very uncomfortable for the next couple of hours, wasn’t it?
Your toes curled as your nipples grew stiff in the cold air and the warm arousal. When you parted your thighs, it was with a wet noise that left you moaning low in your throat, and you pressed them shut again, hips rolling as you pushed against your clit.
It could’ve been worse, you supposed. You could be sitting there horny and pent up with Peter there. You didn’t need any reason to want to fuck Peter Parker again, have him fuck you into the ground until you were keening, but the fact he wasn’t there to do that for you was bad-
No, it was good. It was good, wasn’t it? Good that you hadn’t reduced herself to a useless, aroused mess in front of your former fuckbuddy who you swore you wouldn’t sleep with again.
Why were you thinking about this? Right now? Right now?
That was a dumb question. You were thinking about this because whether you liked it or not, Peter Parker was a fucking masturbatory aid for the nights when you didn’t stumble your way onto his dick. And right now you were high on a villain’s aphrodisiac that was filling the cave with its overpowering scent and leaving you daydreaming of him pinning you down and eating you out until you had friction burn on the insides of your thighs from his hair between your legs.
Fuck it, you might as well indulge.
Your hand pushed between your thighs, and already you were wet. One hand ran up to cup your breast, the other stroking two fingers gently over your clit. Your back arched off the rock as you let out a moan, eyes screwing tightly shut at the mixture of the friction and the sensitivity that left you shaking. Fuck, but you were so much more sensitive with the pollen in your body than you were normally.
You rubbed your fingers a little faster, chasing the pleasure as you tried your best not to cry out, to let your voice echo through the cave.
It wouldn’t do to have Peter catch you like this, after all.
You forced yourself to keep quiet with your hand over your mouth, even as the wet noise of your fingers got a little bit louder. You pulled in deep breaths through your nose, the liquid on your fingers just driving you deeper into that overwhelming sensation of need that was already driving you crazy. Your toes started to curl with every stroke, and a full-body shiver rocked you.
“Oh god,” you whined softly, pushing those fingers past your folds, filling yourself up and trying not to fuck yourself on them too hard, to give yourself away. You were already getting close; you would have to use this shit again whenever you masturbated.
The only clue you got that someone was in here with you were the waft of cool air outside that brought a fresh wave of the pollen’s scent, and then someone inhaled deeply.
Your eyes snapped open and you sat up rapidly, looking straight ahead into the darkness. You could just about see a figure illuminated at the front in the pale LED glare. Metallic suit, electronic eyes reflecting the beam of your flashlight, and pale skin peeking out from the rolled mask.
“Don’t stop on my account,” Peter taunted.
Or, he would’ve taunted.
It came out heavy, betraying his arousal even as he tried to make fun of yours. Your fingers slowed and stopped despite your body’s complaints, the hot throbbing from where your fingertips rested against your clit.
“What are you doing here?” you panted, your voice ragged. “You’re supposed to be keeping watch to establish a pattern for the guards’ stations.”
“You wanna talk? Or do you wanna fuck?” Peter demanded.
Oh. Well, that was straight to the point. You remembered the last time he’d been inside you and your body pulsed in expectation.
“Fuck,” you blurted out, “god, please don’t bother f-fucking explaining-”
Peter yanked you forward into his lap, until you were pressed up against his erection and wrapping your arms around his neck as his mouth found your throat. The pulses of pain from his teeth and lips fell straight to your clit, and he gripped you using one arm at a time as he pressed the spider symbol in the middle of his torso. You weren’t sure where his suit went until he pinned you to the ground, and then you felt in on your bare back as his hips rutted against yours.
“Already wet for me, huh?” Peter breathed, licking up the marks his teeth had left in your throat as he dropped a hand to his boxer, freeing his cock. “That’s my girl.”
Oh fuck. You gripped his shoulders and arched your back, spreading your thighs open to coax him to just slide in and fuck you. “Y-you think I’m yours, huh?” you gasped.
It had the desired effect. Peter immediately pushed deep into you, filling you up in one wet thrust that left you shaking against the sand on the cave floor. “Yeah you are.” He nipped along your jaw, sucking bruises into your neck as he started rapidly fucking you, just like you had asked him to. “C’mon Kitty, fuck, admit it. Who else would you be this wet for, huh? You telling me there’s someone else you want?”
“It’s Kingpin’s aphrodisiac,” you moaned, even though you were clinging to him still.
His breathing was heavy in your ear. "Can't lie to me. Christ, you just spread open the second you knew it was me." A low groan rumbled through his chest, hips pressing against yours. "You wanna try telling me you'd do that for another man, I'll call bullshit."
"I'd, I'd do it, oh god," you broke off, taking deep breaths, "I'd fucking do it for, for your buddy Thor, oh fuck."
God, it was all happening so fast. Peter fucking you rough and frantic, both hands on your ass as he pinned you to the jacket. The heat curled along your skin, growing with every sharp breath you took. The pollen swirled around in the air as he drew it into his lungs with every breath, shaking as he did. Had Peter ever experienced an aphrodisiac before?
Was he as high as you?
“Still talking shit,” he growled, squeezing your ass. “Little Kitty with a clever f-fucking mouth. You want me to show you, fuck, why I’m the only one you should be this wet for?”
One hand slid down to your hip as he sped up, driving down into you. God, it had you shaking, that heat growing heavier, and when his thumb found your clit and started to rub, Your thighs snapped tight around him. Your head fell back and you gasped in more pollen. Every inch of you felt hot and sensitive and when his thumb sped up, that heat cinched tight.
“Peter!” you found yourself yelping, your toes curling.
“There’s my good girl,” he panted, “more where that came from, c’mon, cum for me.”
Oh, you should not be tipping over the edge that quickly, but he was still touching you, still fucking you, and your orgasm hit you as it spread out from that space between his thumb and his dick until heat roared over you and you were clamping down around him. Your nails scratched him through the t-shirt and his hips bucked as a low growl rumbled between them.
“There’s my girl,” he panted, kissing your neck, “c’mon, admit it.”
Ok, so, that orgasm hadn’t done shit to calm the racing heat the pollen had induced in you, and you were still sensitive as hell and not in the too much way as he didn’t stop. You dropped one hand to his hip to coax him to go faster and he bit you, teeth sinking into your shoulder until another wave of pleasure hit you and you curled around him.
“Admit what?” you whimpered.
“I’m the best,” his mouth nipped up to your neck again, finding old bruises, “you ever had.”
“Oh c-come on,” the hand on his hip pushed up beneath his shirt, scratching, “I-I’m not, fuck, I’m not stroking your fucking ego, if we’re not working together then you’re trying to- put me in jail, and you think- I’d- ever-!”
His thumb sped up even as he rocked against you with every drag of your nails along his spine. “Admit it.” Peter’s tongue licked along the bite marks he’d left, soft and soothing compared to the sharp pain he’d given you only moments ago. “I’m the best.”
Yes he was, but like hell you would give him the satisfaction of telling him that after everything that he’d done to you. “Y-you’re a f-fucking asshole,” you moaned, even as you wriggled in his lap. “A-and you stalked me out here instead of doing your job, you followed me, why the hell did you-?”
“Was gonna help you, you were being trailed and I distracted them.” He was kissing your neck, along your jaw. “Then I heard you, those little noises, you tried to muffle ‘em but I heard them anyway.” His thumb was drawing rapid little circles over your clit. “This what happens, fuck, when you get a little toy to help you, sweetheart? Fuck, if only I’d known before now!”
You squeezed him even as that heat was building again. “Says you!”
He laughed breathlessly. “Shit, you’re right,” Peter admitted, and his mouth was inches from yours as he kept kissing. “Can’t lie-”
“-it’s addictive, not a toy,” you broke in.
“-this? This shit? Yeah, it gets to me, it’s got me- fuck- it’s got me all riled up, but you know what? Fuckin’ worth it.” His nose slid down your cheek. “Cuts past all your fuckin’ bullshit.” He pulled back just enough that his lips were hovering over yours. “You can’t lie to me, Kitty. Not like this. Can’t pretend all you want me for is sex and work.”
You found your fingers skimming up his back, lifting his shirt up. He didn’t seem to care at all and he didn’t let up for a second.
“And- neither- can you!” you gasped, and leaned up to lick along his lower lip.
Peter recoiled for a moment, his rhythm broken, and then his chest rumbled with a strange, unusual noise, and he kissed you. That was what made you cum; you tumbled over the edge again as you clung to him, locking your ankles behind his back, hips squirming against his in a way that turned the rumbling into a growl. One of his hands slid into your hair and anchored itself there, letting that kiss get deeper and rougher until you were moaning for more than just your orgasm.
And you still weren't satisfied.
Fuck, you were gonna be stuck like this until the pollen cleared up.
“C’mon,” you whimpered against his mouth, “c’mon, you too, please, Peter, I want you to-”
He was quick to shut you up with another kiss but it was too late; he twitched inside you, almost crushing you against the cave floor as his hips drove deep and hard into you. Your hands moved to his hair, to tangle through the thick, soft brown curls before you scraped your nails down his scalp.
Peter fucking purred, and then he came hard.
You felt it, every inch, as his cock filled you to the hilt and pulsed. He was too deep for you to feel what spilled into you, but it was only a few moments before it was starting to drip out of you, down your ass. And he didn’t let up for even a moment with his kisses, nor did he soften.
Oh shit.
You finally fell back, gasping for air, cupping Peter’s face. “Wanna go again?” It was the only thing you could think of to say, since the man on top of you hadn’t moved or said a word.
The thumb that had been playing with your clit moved to your folds, smearing his cum up your thigh as he panted loudly, the sound almost too loud in the small cave.
“You’re smart, aren’t you?” he finally murmured, grinding his hips just a little as he took another breath of the pollen-laced air. “Set a nice little trap for me, now I care about you too much to stop you from stealing again once we’re back to the city.”
You let out a breathless laugh as the low thrum of pleasure washed over you. “Seriously? You think I planned to drug myself and get a crazy villain’s aphrodisiac all over my clothes? You’re the one always following me around New York, Peter. You’re supposed to be setting the traps and making the plans, not me.”
“So you had no idea I might’ve been doing that because I liked you?” he asked curiously. The thrusting was almost instinctual, like he couldn’t stop himself from doing it.
“No, but if I’d known, I wouldn’t have changed a thing,” you snorted. The sound wasn’t quite as sarcastic when your breath hitched halfway through and the heat of the pollen rolled through your body. “Just let me have a shower first before you shove me in a cage though, ok?”
Peter’s teeth found your lower lip, gently nibbling. His eyes gleamed in the light, focused entirely on you, hungry despite the casual words that came next. “I thought you were up for another round, baby. Or was that a distraction technique?”
Your fingers hooked into the collar of his shirt. “Not everything I do is designed meticulously to get myself out of danger.” You brushed his mouth with yours. “And if you think otherwise then I’ve given you the wrong idea.”
“So this wasn’t a devious plan of yours to distract me?” Peter kissed your jaw instead, scratching at your scalp with his nails.
You moaned low in your throat, your head falling back. “F-fuck, Peter, is it working?”
“Yeah.” It came out ragged, his accent thick. “Yeah, it’s workin’, sweetheart. You know how bad I wanna spend the rest of the night like this?”
“Then do it,” you panted. “Fucking do it. I want you. I want it. I want this. I admit it. I want you.”
His mouth caught yours, the kisses slower but just as rough as before. “Tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had.”
“Oh fuck,” you grunted, your eyes fluttering shut. “Your f-fucking ego- fine, fine, y-you’re the best, there’s- nobody else I wanna fuck like this, only you.”
Peter actually cooed. “Love songs for me, Kitty?”
“Seriously?” you panted. “You’re buried inside me and you’re s-still calling me Kitty?”
“What do you prefer, huh?” he asked, and sucked on your lower lip.
“My name,” you groaned. “But I’ll- settle for a pet name if you- really want to avoid saying my name that bad.”
“I can do that,” he murmured. “I can use your name, if you’ll trust me with it.”
You took a deep breath, then closed your eyes. “Y/N.”
Peter grinned softly. “You’re the only one I wanna be with, Y/N.”
Oh shit. Your cheeks flushed like you had some kind of fucking crush. You just leaned up to kiss him again. “Round two,” you whispered.
