[mrshipsmcgee]

I’m Cait! I’m a 30 year old married lady and mom that likes to write fanfiction for fun. My requests are closed. But please ask me anything!

Masterlist

Newest Work -

A Case of You - TASM!Peter Parker

A Lord & A Lady (new part!) (Bridgerton AU!TASM Peter Parker)

The Scoundrel & The Princess (Steve Harrington)

Cursed (Stranger Things series)

[girltalk]

June will be filled with joy.

June will be filled with love.

June will be filled with trust.

June will be filled with peace.

June will be filled with clarity.

June will be filled with miracles.

June will be filled with blessings.

[mrshipsmcgee]

Wellbutrin, my love!! I am finally able to finish writing the finale for Cursed because my brain isn’t on fire 24/7 <3

[mrshipsmcgee]

We’re 4.8k in now bbs 😈

[mrshipsmcgee]

Wellbutrin, my love!! I am finally able to finish writing the finale for Cursed because my brain isn’t on fire 24/7 <3

[cutecipher]

there's art inside me trying to get out

[mrshipsmcgee]

A Lord & A Lady: Part 6

for @blooming-violets

TASM!Peter Parker x (fem)Reader - Bridgerton AU

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

Warnings: kidnapping, angst, tears, fighting

Summary: Will Peter Parker find his fiancé in time?

—

Peter’s heart races, drumming loudly against his chest as his panicked brown eyes warily scan over the ransom note in his white-knuckled clutch. His stomach turns as he rereads the words written on the paper.

The Captor threatened a brutal death for the Duchess if they were not to receive a handsome sum of money by dawn.

Peter’s chest rises and falls, a tidal wave of rage washes over him as he crumples the paper in his shaking fist, letting it drop to the ground. He glances towards the ballroom, searching the sea of faces for his beloved Bluebell to no avail.

However, Peter’s weepy eyes did meet Anthony Bridgerton’s inquisitive gaze from across the bustling ballroom floor. The Viscount’s brows lace together - his eyes locked in on Peter. Anthony immediately pauses his waltz, giving Kate a chaste kiss on the cheek before leaving her behind on the dance floor as he stalks towards Peter.

Benedict sits down his drink, following closely behind his brother, dodging dancing debutants and Mamas to get to his friend.

Peter slowly backs away from the manor, scouring over the outer parts of the ivy covered estate, desperately hoping to spot his bride. He turns towards the babbling creek, squinting as his eyes adjust to the darkness surrounding the distant waterline.

He is frozen as he watches on, swallowing hard as he sees a large figure moving by the oak trees next to the creek.

“You there!” Peter’s voice echoes through the field between him and the waterway, causing the shadow to pause for a moment. “Have you seen the Duchess!?”

The figure hurriedly dodges into the tree line, seemingly wading directly into the raging creek.

Peter’s stomach drops as the hair on the back of his neck stands straight.

Without another thought, he takes off in a full sprint, racing through the flower covered field towards the figure. The closer he grows to the stranger, the deeper they seem to stumble into the rushing current.

The moonlight illuminates the creek, now displaying the figure in full view.

Peter quickly recognized the face of Sir Fredrick, who was braced against a large oak tree laid along the embankment of the creek, clinging to the Duchess, still thrown over his wide shoulder - her ornate indigo ball gown twinkles against the moon’s beams, falling like liquid into the rushing water.

His feet cannot seem to move fast enough as soles of his black shoes slap against the grassy meadow, watching on as Fredrick turns away from the tree and begins wading deeper into the water. Peter’s blood boils as he sees the Duchess’ limp body swaying with every move Fredrick made.

Peter reaches the creek’s embankment, lunging towards his fiancé’s captor, almost super human-like as he flies through the air. His body collides with Sir Fredrick, knocking the Duchess from his grip.

“No!” The large man turns towards Peter, huffing while he tries to pull the unconscious Duchess back into his clutch.

“Pete!” Anthony screams breathlessly as he and Benedict quickly approach the creek’s embankment.

Peter’s bound fist meets Fredrick’s cheek with a dull crack, his opposite hand lands another punch to the man’s jaw, knocking him away from the Duchess; causing her to begin to sink into the rushing tributary.

Peter lunges for his Bluebell, his large hand wraps around her wrist, bringing her into his gentle embrace. The rushing water slaps against him as he clings to his bride.

Sir Fredrick brings his wide hand to his spilt and bleeding cheek before his angry eyes meet Peter’s, “I will kill you for that, Parker.”

“You can try,” Peter grits his teeth, holding tight to the Duchess as he fights the deluge of water.

Anthony and Benedict jump into the current after their friends.

“I would not come closer if I were you, Fredrick,” Peter hisses, now backed against the stream side as his flat palm spreads protectively across his Bluebell’s spine, clinging to her limp body as the water rages around them. “Truly, I say - I shall kill you if you come any closer to me or my wife.”

Peter’s once perfectly quaffed hair is now wild as his dark eyes remain fixated on Fredrick, now looming closer to him. He clings to his fiancé as Benedict and Anthony swim over, putting themselves between their friends and the assailant.

“Do not dare move, Fredrick,” Anthony’s voice booms as he and Benedict apprehend the captor; a brawl ensues between the men as Peter slowly pulls himself and the Duchess from the rushing water and onto the dewy moss.

Peter’s voice trembles as he drops to his knees, “Sweetheart..” his trembling hands ghost over the body of his betrothed.

“I- I must- I..” Peter’s vision is too hazy from the tears filling his eyes to see as his shivering fingers brush against the freezing cold flesh of his fiancé’s exposed neck, hoping to find a pulse.

Hot tears run down his handsome face as he slowly cradles his beloved’s body in his arms “Stay with me- stay with me… Please,” he begs as he caresses her face. “Please.. Please stay. Do not leave me.”

He brings the Duchess closer to his chest as he sobs violently, feeling like a scared child as he cradles his best friend in his arms.

“Peter, go,” Benedict yells to Peter as he and Anthony seem to tie Sir Fredrick to a tree by the creek. “Get her to safety!” He cries.

Peter looks up at his friends, the men share the same petrified look, like terrified little boys staring silently at one another as the sound of the river rages behind the trio.

“Pete.. you have to go..” tears fall down Anthony’s cheeks as nods towards the manor in the distance. “Go!”

Peter nods wildly, still in shock as he slowly stands, clinging to his bride as he walks towards the distant glow of the soiree.

Time seems frozen as he approaches the manor, the amber light of the candelabras illuminated he and the Duchess as they step across the threshold of the busy ballroom.

The five string quartet comes to an unharmonious halt as shocked guests gasp at the sight before them.

The vast ballroom grows quiet as Peter slowly makes his way through the crowd, his eyes remain transfixed on his beautiful bride as they ascend up the flower-lined staircase, glowing candelabras guide Peter’s path to the Duchess’ room.

Hurried staff come running as Peter gently lays the Duchess on her neatly made bed. He stands protectively over her as Sarah and Lady May rush over to him.

They are saying something, but he cannot hear, for his thoughts are muffled, they are only of his Bluebell. She looked like an angel illuminated by the single candle stick glowing by her bedside.

He swallows hard as hot tears continue to fall down his cheeks, unmoving as he watches the staff work around the Duchess. A footman kindles a raging fire in the hearth as maids grab sheets and towels.

“We must undress the Duchess,” a maid whispers to Sarah. She turns to Peter, “My Lord, you must leave the room. We must undress the Duchess from these wet clothes so we can warm her.”

Peter’s chocolate eyes remain on his unconscious bride.

“Peter,” Lady May whispers. “It is indecent of you to stay.”

“I will not be leaving her side,” he mutters, his already bruising fists remained clenched tightly by his side as silent tears fall, hitting the ground along with the water dripping off of his wet clothes.

“Peter,” Sarah coos. “You must leav-“

“I will do no such thing!” Peter explodes as he turns to Sarah, his tearful gaze like daggers as he stares her down. “I cannot leave her, Sarah,” his voice breaks, his chest heaves.

Sarah swallows back burning tears.

The room is quiet other than the crackling of the fireplace and Peter’s trembling breathing. The staff is frozen as they await approval from Sarah. She lets out an exhausted sigh before she nods. The room erupts as the staff begin to slowly strip both the Duchess and Lord Parker from their soiled clothes.

“Peter, honey,” May whispers as she rubs Peter’s bare shoulder. “What on earth happened?”

All Peter can do is cry as he turns to May, bending his tall frame to bury his face into her neck as he continues to sob. May runs her long nails through Peter’s damp hair.

“He tried to kill her, May. He was going to kill her. He has done something to her to paralyze her..” he explains.

“Who did, Peter?” Sarah chimes in.

“Sir Fredrick,” Anthony replies as he and Benedict walk into the room, quickly averting their eyes as they see the Duchess in such a state. “Please, Lady May.. Sarah. Let us speak in a different room.” The pair oblige, following the two Bridgerton brothers out of the room, leaving Peter and the Duchess behind as the staff continue tending to them.

“Lord Parker,” a maid whispers, motioning Peter towards the raging fireplace. “You must continue shedding your clothing. We do not need to have you catching a chill, my Lord.”

He nods, stepping backwards towards the flames. His eyes remain on his motionless bride as silent tears fall down his cheeks “Will she be okay?”

“I do not know, my Lord,” the maid sighs. “The best we can do is keep her warm and safe, Your Grace..”

“Please,” he turns towards the woman. “-Call me Peter.”

She nods, her wrinkled eyes smile as she murmurs, “Peter.. we will do best we can to keep Your Grace warm and comfortable. The Doctor should be here soon enough.”

The maid gives Peter a sad smile as she unfolds a beautiful quilt, “Here, this will keep you warm.” Peter bows towards the maid, letting her wrap the heavy blanket around his shoulders, “I did not get your name.”

“Lizbeth, sir,” she smiles, then turns to the footman. Her wrinkled finger points towards a chair in the corner of the room, “Patrick, please be a dear and move that besides the Duchess’ bed for Peter so he can watch over her comfortably.”

“I can stand,” Peter says, pulling the quilt a little tighter around his bare shoulders.

“You will sit,” Lizbeth retorts as she guides Peter towards the chair. “You may not have to rest your mind, but you do need to rest your body. The Duchess can be seen from this chair just as well as she can be seen if you were standing.”

Peter nods before ultimately sitting in the large chair beside his fiancé’s bed. The silent tears turn to violent sobs as Peter lays himself over her body, burying his face in the covers in hopes of muffling his pained cries, “I-I am so- so sorry.. I failed you too.”

A firm hand pats Peter on the back, “Pete.”

Anthony.

“Pete, he is insisting on only speaking to you,” Benedict sighs. “He refuses to say anything besides how he “finally bested the Watsons once and for all”. He will not explain a thing to us. He is truly mad.”

Peter sits up and turns towards his friends. “He said what?” He asks with jaws clenched.

Anthony repeats what Benedict said, “Fredrick keeps going on about how he has ‘finally bested to Watsons once and for all’. It simply does not make sense, Pete.”

“Bring him to me,” Peter says plainly.

-

Peter stands in the middle of the threshold going into The Duchess’ bed chamber, standing guard as he waits for the Bridgerton’s return with Sir Fredrick. His bare chest heaves as he tries to exhale out his rage. His clenched fists shake at his sides as tries to calm his angry heart. He closes his eyes, memories of seeing his Bluebell’s limp body thrown over Fredrick’s shoulder flood Peter’s thoughts. He shakes his head, trying to shake away the horrible memories.

His head snaps up towards the sound of multiple sets of foot steps approaching him. His eyes lock in on those of his fiancé’s abductor.

Before he can think, Peter lunges towards the tall man, tackling him to the floor of the hallway; landing a few vicious blows to his body before Benedict and Anthony pull the men apart.

Peter’s angry eyes remained on Fredrick, who had a smug grin plastered across his face, “What is the matter, Parker?”

“What do you mean when you say you finally bested the Watsons?” Peter asks. Anthony keeps a firm hand wrapped around Peter’s arm.

Sir Fredrick let out a low chuckle, “I thought you were supposed to be some kind of a genius, Parker.”

“Peter,” Benedict interjects. “We can take him away whenever you would like.”

“It’s fine, Ben,” Peter looks at the freckled man in front of him, “Tell me what you mean. Now.”

He tries to step closer to Peter, but Benedict holds his arms tightly behind his back. Fredrick huffs before smiling slightly - his eyes locked in on Peter.

“Once upon a time there was a beautiful woman who fell in love with a common man. Their love was passionate, a summer love, blossoming under secrecy. They had promised themselves to one another, bound forever - for eternity.. or so the common man thought.”

Fredrick’s face drops.

“The beautiful woman left the commoner for a man of status - a Duke. The common man spent years mourning the loss of his potential love, watching on from a distance as she married the Duke and sired two children - a girl and a boy,” Fredrick continues to tell his story.

“The commoner went mad watching idly as his love flourished in life without him, reminding him of how he was nothing without her,” Fredrick paused, smirking slightly, “However, one day, the common man hatched a plan.. one that he was convinced would work. He would set the Duke’s home on fire, sneak into the blaze to save his love and then begin a life with her after her family had perished.”

Peter watched on, confused by Fredrick’s story, “I do not understand.”

“You see, Lord Parker - the commoner’s plan was that of a fool’s… for when he set the home on fire he did kill the other family members, even the staff. But, when he had arrived at his lost love’s side, she too had perished due to the smoke inhalation,” Sir Fredrick let out an exhausted sigh before shaking his head. “The man thought that with his lost love and her family gone that he could finally move on after all of these years.”

Benedict and Anthony eye one another, fear washed over their faces as they start to piece things together.

“Unfortunately, the man simply was unable to move on in view of the fact that he did not kill all of his lost love’s family… One remained unscathed-” Fredrick’s eyes darken as he stared Peter down, “One family member was left to remind my father of what he had done.”

Peter’s heart sank. Anthony and Benedict's eyes widen.

“ A daughter. A fortunate Duchess - Mary Jane Watson.” Benedict and Anthony grow white. Peter thought he was going to be sick.

“My father was a stupid man. He died a stupid man. But what I am not is stupid. I was going to end what he could not. Her face. Her presence.. She is the reason my father was mad. Her face was that of her mother’s. I could no longer live knowing she was alive and my father was not.”

The men stood in silence. Peter looks at Benedict and gives him a small nod before turning towards his fiancé’s bed chamber and walking over to the bed. Benedict and Anthony take Sir Fredrick to the police waiting down the stairs.

Peter slowly sits down beside the bed, wrapping his bare shoulders with the quilt from before. He sits silently, his gaze locked on the beautiful woman laying peacefully in the bed.

“Mary Jane,” he whispers through silent tears. “I love you. Please wake up, baby.”

He lays his head onto her chest, his hand wraps around her hand as he slowly drifts to sleep to the most peaceful sound he knows; the beat of Mary Jane Watson’s heart.

——

Welp, there it is yall - it’s been… a while. My bad. Life has been whooping my ass in so many different ways. I doubt that a lot of people will even read this!! If you have read this far, I really am so sorry for such a long wait, I hope this makes up for my absence? I love you I love you I love you - Cait <3

A Lord & A Lady Taglist: @loserbee14 @fk12b @todaywasafairytale07 @bellestalesoffiction @nayspy @splintered-emotions @dark-night-sky-99 @dxmerons @jeezlouiisee @tenaciousperfectionunknown @spiidergirlsworld @lovelyweepingrebel

Tag List: @xuxialling @angelcritterz @levylovegood @gwenebear @saltedcoffeescotch @thelittlebirdwriter @mbjackie @kiwi5335 @nikkitc0703 @laurathefahrradsattel @lizabethmenke @blooming-violets @haileymorelikestupid @uwiuwi @themartiansdaughter @florqlness @andrews-lovr @luvvvjada @liz-allyn @abibliophobiaa

[mrshipsmcgee]

Yes

Okiedokie! 🫡

Here is a small exert from Part Six of A Lord & A Lady!!

[mrshipsmcgee]

Would anyone be interested in a tiny exert from part six of A Lord & A Lady?

[paradoxial-cunt]

[ghostrepeater]

[one-time-i-dreamt]

Let’s go everybody it’s time to survive

[mrshipsmcgee]

It’s so strange but so nice to work on Cursed 🩵

[blooming-violets]

it's so funny watching people freak out over a silly little daddy bracelet

[mrshipsmcgee]

i’ve just been imagining how tasm!peter parker would react to receiving a daddy spidey bracelet 👀

[blooming-violets]

instant boner then followed by a ton of blushing then giddy giggling and then grinding his hips into yours as he presses you against the nearest wall, slipping the bracelet onto his wrist

[mrshipsmcgee]

Like, he’s been so alone after Gwen that he’s forgotten that he’s still got it or that anyone even would look at him that way.. and then this person comes out of left field with a plastic bracelet that says daddy Spidey after Spidey’s successfully saved a hoard of people from a burning bus..

It stops Peter dead in his tracks - something is unearthed in him and the obsession begins. 👀

[blooming-violets]

it's so funny watching people freak out over a silly little daddy bracelet

[mrshipsmcgee]

i’ve just been imagining how tasm!peter parker would react to receiving a daddy spidey bracelet 👀

[blooming-violets]

Trick-Or-Treat (part two) || TASM

Summary: Another Halloween, another year gone by, and more Claire and Benjy to keep Peter entertained. There's never a dull moment in the Parker household. It's a very short read and simple and cute. (read last years Halloween fic here)

A/N: It's been a while since I've written anything. I'll dip my toes in and see how it feels by starting with the cute twins in Peter's life. Special thanks to @tarzinnia for bringing back last years Halloween fic and inspiring me to attempt writing again. Happy Halloween, bitches!

Spider-Man. 

That’s what Claire insisted on being for Halloween. Peter couldn’t help but be proud of her choices. 

“I don’t think there’s a better costume out there,” he boasted to you late one evening. He was sitting at the kitchen table, happily sewing a handmade Spider suit for his daughter. 

“Don’t tell that to Benjy,” you replied. “He’ll be heartbroken to hear you think his Buzz Lightyear costume is subpar.” 

Peter huffed, “Store bought will always be subpar. He wouldn’t even let me hand make it for him.” 

“You didn’t see him when we walked by it at the store. He fell in love. He looked up at me with those big brown eyes and I couldn’t say no to that face. He adores that costume. You’re just playing favorites because Claire chose Spider-Man.” 

Peter smirked, “The kid has great taste, what can I say?” 

You ruffled your husband's mop of messy hair and chuckled, “Just wait until she starts telling people she’s dressed as her dad for Halloween. That smile will be wiped right off your smug face. There’s no faster way to lose your secret identity than to have children. They can’t keep anything secret.” You passed him a red tutu to sew around the waist of the costume. Claire might want to dress like her father’s alternate identity but she still wanted to have the princess vibes she loved. “I think you should add a tutu to your suit. You’d look fabulous.” 

Peter laughed, “I really would, wouldn’t I?” 

“I’ve got to go to bed. The twins drained all my energy today. Please don’t stay up too late working on the costume. You still have plenty of time to get it done.” 

He lifted up his head for a kiss, “I’ll follow you shortly. Just a few more finishing touches…”

Claire’s eyes lit up when she saw her costume. Peter had successfully added the skirt and bedazzled the entire thing to create a sparkling, princess version of Spider-Man. 

“It’s perfect!” She shouted with excitement. “I’m going to look just like you daddy!” 

“Is this what I look like in your eyes? Full of sparkles and absolutely spooktacular?” He held the costume up to her small frame to admire his work. 

“Let’s get you kids dressed! It’s almost time to leave,” you shouted as you bustled into the living room holding Benjy’s costume and a pile of clothes. “Put some warm clothes on Claire under her suit, please, Peter.” You tossed him her thermal sweater and pants. “It’s going to drop down to the 40’s tonight and I don’t want them to catch a cold.” 

You quickly got Benjy into his warm clothes and tugged on his Buzz Lightyear suit while Peter dressed Claire. 

“Are we going to see Auntie May tonight?” Benjy asked. It was no surprise. He asked this just about every single night in the hopes that he’d get to see his favorite person. Tonight was his lucky night. 

You gave him a wink, “She texted me a moment ago and told me she was on her way over.” 

Benjy jumped excitedly around the room before running straight to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of her walking up to the apartment building, so he could alert the entire family of her arrival. 

You turned around to get a good look at Claire as Peter finished carefully zipping her in. He stood up to marvel at his creation. Tears of love and joy brimmed in his eyes which he quickly tried to wipe away before anyone noticed but you caught them. His love for his children often brought him to tears. You wrapped an arm around his waist and snuggled into his side. 

“You did good,” you whispered to him. “She looks great.” 

“I know everyone says they have the cutest kids but they’re all wrong. Ours win. It’s a good thing they inherited mostly your genes so they could end up this adorable. If they got mine, they might end up looking like haggard monsters,” he joked. 

“Oh, shut up. Benjy is the spitting image of you and he’s the most precious, perfect boy I’ve ever seen.” 

Peter turned to wrap you against his chest. He placed a warm kiss against the top of your head, “We make cute kids. Maybe we should make some more some time soon.”  You quietly gasped under your breath, “Peter Parker. Are you implying what I think you are?”

A sneaky smile tugged at the corner of his lips, “Maybe. The twins are going to start kindergarten next year. They’ll be full time at school. It sounds like a perfect time to bring a new little bug into our lives.” 

“I-” you weren’t sure what to say. “We’d need a bigger place. Three kids in one apartment is not going to work for us. We have been saving up for a house, though…I mean, if we move to the suburbs, you’d have to commute with Spider-Man…my job is done remotely so that won’t matter but you’d have to go back and forth into the city. I was looking into some nice school districts. We’d have to adjust our budget a bit. It could be doable…” 

“Is that a yes?” He asked, cutting through your attempts to mentally plan your entire future. 

You smiled, “It’s a yes.” 

Peter scooped you up into his arms and spun around with a joyful laugh, “We’re going to have another baby!” 

“Alright, alright, put me down! Nothing is set in stone, yet. Let’s try to get through Halloween first.” You took a step away from your husband and glanced around the room. 

Benjy was still patiently waiting at the window for any glimpse of May. Claire was nowhere to be found. 

“Claire?” You called out. “Where’d you run off too? Auntie May will be here soon. We’re going to leave in a minute to Trick or Treat.” 

You walked down the hall and peeked into the bathroom. Nothing. You poked your head into the twins shared bedroom. Nothing. 

“Claire?” You called out again. 

“In here!” She shouted from inside your bedroom. 

You pushed open the door and your jaw dropped at the sight occurring before your horrified eyes. 

“Look, momma!” Claire sang. “I’m daddy!”

Your daughter, in her sparkling Spider suit, was stuck halfway up the wall. She crawled up to the ceiling with nothing but her finger tips and the toes of her red converse. 

“Peter!” You shouted, not able to take your eyes off her. As she reached the ceiling, she smoothly made the upside down transition until she was crawling directly over your head. 

Peter showed up at your side. It took him a second to find the source of your stunned silence. When his eyes slowly looked up, his mouth fell open to mimic your own. 

“Holy shit,” he whispered. 

“That’s a bad word, daddy!” Claire chastised him from above his head. “Catch me!” 

Without a word, Peter snatched her from the air as she gracefully unstuck herself from the ceiling. She giggled at the action as if crawling up walls and leaping into her father’s arms from above was an everyday occurrence for her. 

“I’m Spider-Man just like you,” she hummed happily, not old enough to fully grasp the weight of what she was saying or what she’d just done. 

You and Peter exchanged terrified looks with each other. A shocked silence had stolen any attempts at forming words from your mouths as you both desperately tried to comprehend what you’d just witnessed.

“Uh huh…yeah, sweetie…just like me…” Peter managed to squeak out. 

“Auntie May’s here!” Benjy squealed from the other room. 

Claire squirmed out of her father’s protectful grasp to run towards her brother, both brimming with excitement to let May into their home. 

Neither you nor Peter could move. 

“Did that just…” your question trailed off. 

Peter nodded, “Yeah. Yes, it did.” 

You took a long, shuddered breath, “Okay. That’s okay. That’s fine. Everything is fine. We just…have…a daughter with abilities…no big deal…not a problem at all…everything is great…” 

Peter tugged you to his side, sensing you were about to start spiraling if he didn’t put a stop to it, “It is fine. I’ve been through this before. I can handle this again. She seems like she’s handling this better than I was at 16. She’s a natural at it! It’s totally, 100% fine and not at all terrifying.” Peter was always a terrible liar. “It appears she may have inherited more of my genes than I initially thought and that is okay. She’s really embodying the spirit of that Halloween costume isn’t she?” He gave a breathless chuckle. 

You shot him a stern look at his poor attempt at a joke, “Seriously?” 

He shrugged with a guilty expression etched onto his face, “They don’t write a parents handbook for this kind of thing.” 

“Our preschooler can crawl up walls! Her teachers are going to hate us, oh god. What are we going to do?” 

The buzzer rang, alerting everyone of May’s presence at the door. 

Peter glanced towards the sound, “Right now, we are going to let May in and then we are going to take the kids out Trick or Treating. We are going to have a fun night watching them run around and collect candy. They are going to be kids and enjoy their Halloween. Then we will come home, let them go crazy with sugar, then attempt to get them to bed. Afterwards, you and I will start on our endeavor to make baby number three. And then…tomorrow, we can figure this out more. But, tonight, tonight is for us.” 

You gave a slow nod, allowing his words to comfort you, repeating his mantra, “Tonight is for us. Tomorrow is for worrying.” 

Peter gave you a warm smile and a quick kiss, “Worry tomorrow, have fun tonight. This a problem for future us. Present us needs to only worry about how much candy we can fit into those kids’ pumpkin buckets.”

A smile grew over your face as some of the fear dissipated. Not all of it. You were always going to fear for the future of your children but Peter was always going to be there to help smooth out those worries. 

“If it’s Trick or Treat, Claire definitely chose ‘trick’ this year.” 

Peter laughed, “And Benjy will always choose ‘treat’. That will be one thing that never changes. The boy loves chocolate! Let’s go let May in before the kids break down the door. Come on, my son needs sugar and my daughter needs an exorcism. A perfect Halloween combination!”

The End :)

[mrshipsmcgee]

A mood board for this precious lil fic

KATIE!!!!!!! Ahhhhh!!!!! I want to have cute ass twins with Peter Parker :’) (and then make another LOL)

I AM SO VERY HAPPY YOU ARE WRITING AGAIN! THE WORLD IS HEALING!!!

[liz-allyn]

"You....you're upto something aren't you ?!?!"//

I'm heading to the store for munchies so I can settle in for a good read when this something lands on the blog. Anyone want anything? Should I aim for healthy? Comfort food? Healthy comfort food? Liquor?

[blooming-violets]

if liz starts writing again, i start writing again

i promise. i'll make a blood pact with the devil (the devil being @liz-allyn)

[mrshipsmcgee]

If Katie AND Liz start writing again, I start writing again.

[withahappyrefrain]

Parking Spots and Matcha Lattes

Summary: In an attempt to get coffee, you meet a grade A asshole whose head you want to rip off. Meanwhile, Jake Seresin is pretty certain he just met his future wife in the parking lot of a coffee shop.

AKA Jake Seresin likes mean women, pass it on.

Shout-out to @p3mybeloved who isn't in the TGM fandom, but is the inspiration for this fic ♥️♥️

Part two is up! As is part 3!

It hadn’t been just a long day. It had been a long week.

And it was only Tuesday.

You were exhausted from working after hours to meet critical deadlines. If Barbara from admin found one more thing to nitpick, you were going to lose it.

So you decided to get coffee. Could you have made some at home? Absolutely. But you needed something, just a little something to make your morning brighter. Something that would remind you there was some good in the world and help you get through the first two hours of your day.

Instead of hitting snooze on your alarm clock five times, you got up after hitting it twice. You even remembered to apply deodorant and swipe on mascara. You left five minutes before your alarm to leave went off. Five whole minutes. You were on track to get coffee and get to work in plenty of time. Things were going well.

Too well.

You should have known something was about to fuck up your day when you saw the perfect parking spot. When the hell did that even happen? Never, you should have just gone to the back of the lot.

Foolishly, you started making your way towards the spot, thinking of all the things you could do with the extra minutes you would receive from your soon to be princess parking.

Your car and body lurched forward as you slammed on the brakes in order to not run into the white Jeep Wrangler that sped out from around the corner.

The heart palpitations you were experiencing from the sudden, potentially life saving decision descended into anger as you watched the speed demon take not just your desired parking spot, but also the one right next to it due to parking at an angle.

You gripped the steering wheel as rage seethed through your body. Instead of an elderly lady who just shouldn’t be driving, a tall blonde man dressed in some type of military uniform got out of the car. He didn’t even check his horrendous excuse of a parking job, walking into the coffee shop without a care in the world.

What a fucking asshole.

Normally you’d just find another spot and try to move on.

Not today. Because today was supposed to be a good day and you had done everything in your power to ensure it would start off on the right foot and this douchecanoe just ruined it.

So you found a nearby parking spot, walked over to the eyesore of a car and waited. All the rage and anger built up into you, thinking about his horrendous parking job, as well as the bullshit of your job.

You didn't even wait for him to say anything before tearing into him. The fact he was blonde and conventionally attractive added to your anger because of course a real life Ken doll would think it's okay to park like that.

"Hey dickhead! Who the fuck do you think you are, parking like that?"

"What the-oh wow," his voice trailed off when he took in all of you, not that you noticed.

"Is that how you drive tanks in the army? Because if so, holy shit, our country is-”

He scoffed, “Sweetheart, please. I’m a Lieutenant pilot for the Navy. And one of the best ones at that.”

Whether it was the Texan drawl that dripped through his voice or how he expected you to fall to your knees by revealing this information, you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, so you can fly million dollar planes but can’t park without taking up two spaces?” You remarked. He seemed to be taken aback by your comment, which gave you the motivation to keep going.

“First off, who the hell drives through a parking lot at forty-five miles an hour?! There are kids-well teenagers-who walk through here! I know your car is obnoxious as your personality, but not all of us get an adrenaline thrill from having to slam on their fucking breaks so they don’t crash into you.”

You didn’t notice how his emerald eyes were wide and staring right at you. You were on a roll.

“In fact, you probably wouldn’t have had to park so offensively if you had fucking slowed down. Or, you could have had a shred of decency and repark. Don’t they teach that in the military? To have honor or some shit? Or were you too busy doing bicep curls at the gym that day?”

It was then you noticed that his eyes were wide, reminding you of those stupid disney princes your cousins used to fawn over as kids. The look he had on his face made it seem like he was in a far off place, it was almost…..dreamy?

“Hello?” You waved a hand in front of his chiseled face, “Are you even listening to me?”

“I’m trying, but your eyes are super distracting, has anyone ever told you that?”

It took your brain several seconds to process what he just said. Then you had to take another ten seconds to process that he wasn’t being cocky or a smartass when he said it. He was being genuine.

What the actual fuck?

—---------------------------------------------

Jake Seresin woke up this morning, like any other day. He got up early so he could get coffee off base. The Starbucks they had on base was always overcrowded and bitter. Plus, it was nice to get off base for a little bit, get away from things and have a sense of normalcy.

He was not expecting to meet his future wife in the parking lot of a local coffee joint.

Nor was he expecting her to introduce herself by yelling at him.

But it was kinda perfect.

You were stunning, even though you assumed he was in the army, of all things (he’d let that one slide, you’ll learn eventually).

The passion in your eyes as you pointed out exactly what was wrong with his parking job was admirable, alluring, even enticing.

Jake couldn't lie, he'd thought you'd be impressed or at the very least, taken aback by his rank.

Instead, you steamrolled right past it, continuing to list what he had done wrong, taking stabs at him along the way.

It was hot.

You were making valid points. He didn't have to drive that fast, it wasn't like he was late.

But it was also extremely difficult to focus on what you were saying when those big bright eyes of yours were burning into him.

How could he focus on anything else?

So he was honest and told you so.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" You threw your hands up in exasperation.

That we aren't making out right now, is what Jake wanted to say. But his mother would smack him if she found out that's what he said to her future daughter-in-law during their first interaction.

"I have no problem darlin'. In fact, I'm pretty great. Got a matcha latte and have just met the most stunning girl in the world," he flashed that blindingly white smile, ready for you to ask for his number.

"You parked like that for a matcha latte? You couldn't have made me slam on my breaks for something that doesn't taste like dirt?" You spat.

Huh, normally that line worked. The fact it didn't was more exhilarating than nerve-wracking.

Jake honestly found it borderline erotic.

"I didn't realize I had met a parking and coffee expert," He preened, that award winning smile remaining on his face. He was curious, what could get you flustered?

You swore you could see red.

Oh, he was trying. Trying to knock you off balance. Trying to see if he could rattle you. It fueled you.

"I'm not an expert, it's called being a decent human being with common sense, you knockoff Ken doll." The lovesick look on his handsome face remained. If he was a cartoon, hearts would appear over his head.

Oh, you were perfect.

Outright asking for your number wouldn't work. Compliments were going right over your head. He had to change tactics.

He looked over at his parking job before facing you again, "Y'know, you're absolutely right. That was a shitty parking job."

Your eyes widened, surprised that this walking Crest Whitening Strips advertisement could admit he had done something wrong.

Jake continued, "And I'd love to learn more about how to park correctly from you…over dinner."

When you started ripping into him, you weren't exactly sure what to expect. Most likely an argument that would end with middle fingers thrown in the air as you both walked away.

Not him asking you out.

"You want me to continue yelling at you about your inability to park over dinner?" You asked. Perhaps the lack of oxygen he experienced from flying planes had affected his ability to think. Perhaps folks should study the effects his job had on the brain. Not that Congress would allow it (couldn't interfere with recruitment).

That stupidly white smile remained on his face, "I was also hoping I could learn more about you too."

Hesitation filled you. The officer (or whatever his rank was) was being genuine. His compliments didn't feel forced. It was just odd that after being yelled at for nearly ten minutes, the conclusion he came to was that he wanted to go on a date with you.

"Buy me coffee first." You challenged, crossing your arms over your chest as an attempt to come across as intimidating, despite how much taller the soldier was compared to you.

A smile broke out onto his face. Not a cocky one, but one that was soft and sweet.

It was almost endearing. Almost.

"Anything for you darlin'," he declared, sea green eyes sparkling, "I'm Jake by the way."

You didn't expect him to go through with it. Nor did you expect him to jog ahead so he could hold the door open for you.

A warm feeling began to flutter in your stomach, until you remembered his heinous parking skills. That warm sensation would transform into a quiet, bubbling rage.

"Hangman? The fuck kind of name is that?" You asked upon hearing him say it to the barista.

"It's my callsign darlin'," he explained, like it was the most obvious and sensible thing in the world.

"First off, my name is not darlin, I just told you it two minutes ago. Second, you are way too smug to be telling me how your callsign is after a children's recess game, Officer." You ignored the confused stare of the barista who handed you your drink.

"I didn't get it from the game and it's Lieutenant," he corrected, his voice the sharpest it had been since talking to you.

A nerve had been struck. Or so you thought.

You leaned forward, your cardigan brushing against the khaki shirt he wore.

"Learn how to park properly and maybe then I'll get your rank right, officer." You were quite proud of yourself for that one, considering he was actually silent for a few moments.

Meanwhile, Jake was doing everything in his power to not sport an erection in the middle of the coffee shop. Because holy shit, you were hot. It was ridiculous how your smirk almost made his knees buckle.

He wondered if you'd prefer an early summer or fall wedding. He had always envisioned getting married in late May. But the rust colored cardigan you had on perfectly complimented your complexion. You'd probably looked great in mustard too. But those colors were more appropriate for a fall wedding and not-

"Cat got your tongue? Or does the navy have their own expression?" Your voice broke Jake out of his thoughts.

He just smiled, shaking his head, "Just got distracted by how pretty you are. Gonna tell you now, I don't know if I'll be able to focus on parking standards during our date tonight. Might need a second one for review."

You rolled your eyes, "It's not a date it's…. actually I don't know what you call it when you are teaching a grown ass man how to properly park over dinner-"

"It's a date." The barista called out before turning around to work on the other orders. Heat rushed to your face as Jake slipped a five dollar bill into the tip jar.

"Whatever" you fumbled to get your phone out, pulling up a new contact, "just give me your number so I can text you the address of the restaurant."

He quirked an eyebrow, "You're picking the place?"

"You can't drive for shit and out of all the types of tea lattes you could drink, you go with matcha," you leaned in to look at the sticker on his cup, "with skim milk. The federal government may trust you with their jets, but like hell I'm gonna trust you to pick a restaurant."

Oh, he was definitely going to marry you. In his head, he already tried out pairing your first name with Seresin and it sounded heavenly.

He just grinned, his emerald eyes shining and you really wished he'd stopped doing that.

The scent of cedar wood flooded your nostrils as he leaned in, his face much closer to yours than it had been so far. Was he bending his knees to be at eye level with you?

Focus, you told yourself. He can't park for shit and got zero sweetener in his drink. Who the hell does that?

"I look forward to showing you on our date that I have great taste, as well as many talents that will have you overlooking my parking skills," his voice was low, dripping with a pathetic attempt of seduction that made you want to bang your head against the counter of the coffee bar.

"Type your phone number in before I throw my drink at you. I don't care if I get fined with 'defacing government property'." You all but shoved your phone into his chest, earning a chuckle from him that sent more heat to your body than rage.

"Anything for you, Venus." Did the obnoxiously bright smile ever go away?

"Y'know, you could have a really strong legal case for what all the lack of oxygen has done to your brain, like not being able to remember my name."

Jake shook his head, "Oh, I remember your name. Venus suits you better. Hottest planet, looks great in rust," he motioned to your cardigan, "Goddess of love and beauty. It's quite fitting for you."

This guy was unreal. The grip you had around your drink tightened, your bottom lip pushing forward to form an annoyed pout.

"I look forward to our date tonight, Venus," He said as he handed you back your phone, his long fingers brushing against yours.

Your eyes couldn't roll harder, "I look forward to serving my country by teaching you how to properly park, Hangnail."

"It's Hangman."

Now it was your turn to smirk, "Nah, Hangnail suits you better," your voice dropped, mocking his southern accent.

With that, you left the coffee shop. You had to, otherwise you were going to throw your drink at him.

You missed the downright lovesick smile that adorned Jake Sersin's face as he watched you walk out.

"Thanks for helping me meet my future wife y'all," He said to the very confused baristas.

"She looked like she wanted to murder you," one commented.

Jake laughed, shaking his head, "Don't worry. I'll win her over."

As you got in your car, a vibration from your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out, a message from an unknown number flashing on your screen.

Looking forward to our date tonight. Can't wait for your lesson Venus ;)

Oh that bastard. When the hell did he have time to send himself a text to get your number?

You shook your head despite the fact he couldn't see you.

A loud horn made you jump. You looked up from your phone to see the living embodiment of a Ken doll in his car that was now in the middle of the parking lot, right across from your car.

He waved. God, you wanted to wipe that smirk off his stupid face.

Instead, you rolled down your window.

"What the fuck are you doing?! You're going to block traffic!" You yelled.

"Text me your address Venus! I'll pick you up at seven!" He winked, driving away as he ignored your comment.

At least he wasn't speeding through the parking lot this time.

Maybe there was hope. Maybe. Doubtful. Probably not.

On the way back to base, Jake wondered if you'd prefer a silver or gold band for your engagement ring.

-------------------------------------------

@spidervee @sebsxphia @hangmanapologist @xbamboowishesx @rae-gar-targaryen @theharddeck @abibliophobiaa @mothdruid @stranger-nightmare @princessphilly

[mrshipsmcgee]

Abby, my god woman - this was so fucking cute and I laughed a few times. Venus is so angry and Jake is so in love hahahahaha omfg. On to the next part!!! I’m in love already.

Hey dickhead! Who the fuck do you think you are, parking like that?"

"What the-oh wow," his voice trailed off when he took in all of you, not that you noticed.

"Is that how you drive tanks in the army? Because if so, holy shit, our country is-”

He scoffed, “Sweetheart, please. I’m a Lieutenant pilot for the Navy. And one of the best ones at that.”

That shit right there made me cackle. I’m imagining it all in slow motion when he sees her and he’s got sparkly anime eyes hehehehe. And the “sweetheart, please.”? Haahahaha this is so good from the start

—-

It was then you noticed that his eyes were wide, reminding you of those stupid disney princes your cousins used to fawn over as kids. The look he had on his face made it seem like he was in a far off place, it was almost…..dreamy?

Heehehehe 😈

—-

He was not expecting to meet his future wife in the parking lot of a local coffee joint.

Nor was he expecting her to introduce herself by yelling at him.

But it was kinda perfect.

I am a goner. “Introduce herself by yelling at him”

——

Him thinking she’s hot because she’s mean to him is literally my favorite thing. Of course this man needs someone to go toe to toe with him. Of course he’s in love

—-

“What the fuck is your problem?!" You threw your hands up in exasperation.

That we aren't making out right now, is what Jake wanted to say. But his mother would smack him if she found out that's what he said to her future daughter-in-law during their first interaction.

This made me laugh out loud

—-

He looked over at his parking job before facing you again, "Y'know, you're absolutely right. That was a shitty parking job."

Your eyes widened, surprised that this walking Crest Whitening Strips advertisement could admit he had done something wrong.

Jake continued, "And I'd love to learn more about how to park correctly from you…over dinner."

Abby this shit is a romcom. “Crest Whitening Strips advertisement” is such a perfect description and so fucking funny

—-

Her still ragging on him and calling him Hangnail, after Jake calls her Venus was incredible. This big asshole is just a gigantic softie baby boy and Venus is just as sassy as he can be and they are so perfect ugh.

“Thanks for helping me meet my future wife”

“She looked like she wanted to murder you” ??? Hahahahaha they must get married right this instant. This shit is funny and cute and I love love love it!!

Him already wondering what color ring she wants ughhhh. Next chapter!

—-

Incredible job!! I am in love, clearly haha. Can’t wait to read the rest. <3

[mrshipsmcgee]

don't feel guilty for letting your emotions take space, you're allowed to feel your emotions, as someone with depression, pushing those emotions aside and masking your pain can feel easier but you aren't getting rid of the feelings, just postponing them. it'll take a while until you're hobbies call your attention again, but don't force them because you'll stop enjoying them if you feel pressured for a deadline, breaks are allowed and encouraged, take care - your local big sister

I love you, whoever you are. Thank you. I appreciate your words of encouragement and for taking time out of your day to send me a kind message.

Thank you, local big sister. 💛

[blooming-violets]

Fucking her while she’s doing the dishes 🙃🙃🙃

You got it!

TASM Peter Parker x Fem!Reader smut || The Dishes

TW: I use the term "daddy" in a sexual manner in this, if that's not your jam, skip it.

The suds of the dish soap coated her hands as she idly scrubbed the same glass she had been working on for the past few minutes. Her mind was elsewhere. Work, family matters, friendship troubles. Anywhere but here. It wasn’t until she felt an arm snake around her waist did she pull herself back from her wondering. 

“I think that glass is clean enough,” a gravelly voice murmured against her ear. 

The sound of his tone made her shiver. She knew it all too well. It didn’t matter what he was saying, the moment his voice shifted into that low, scruffy sound, she knew. He wanted her. Now. 

“Mm,” she gave a content sigh, rinsing the glass under the stream of steaming water. “I’m a bit distracted tonight, I think.” She could practically hear his smirk as his fingers splayed out over her stomach. He toyed with the white fabric of her sundress. Despite being late into the evening, they were going through a heat wave in the city. She couldn’t handle the thought of anything heavier than a light dress weighing her down. 

“I can bring you back down to earth,” his breath was hot against her neck. She could feel the sweat start to bead up down her spine the closer he pushed himself into her. 

Her head felt like she was spinning. He had that effect on her. Always had. 

“No, Peter. I’m trying to finish the dishes,” she tried to hold firm. “If they don’t get done now, they never will. I know us. There will be a mountain of unwashed dishes in one week if I don’t do them.” She felt his hand slide over her hips and under the hem of her dress. Her soapy hand slapped down over his wrist, “No!” 

His grip only tightened, nails digging into the fleshy bits of her thigh, “No?” He sounded amused. “Are you sure about that?” 

“I-” her face felt heated. “I’m busy…” The lack of confidence in her voice was evident. 

Peter’s hand only paused momentarily before continuing his descent, “Busy? Washing the same glass for the past ten minutes? You’re so, so busy, aren’t you? You poor thing. I’m working you to the bone over here. You sound like you need some motivation to get the job done.”

She sighed, a deep and satisfied sigh, as her head lulled to the side. It was an invitation for him to attack her sweaty neck with hot kisses. She held her breath as his hand approached her sex. It was only a matter of seconds before he realized she wasn’t wearing underwear. Then it would be over. Any attempt to finish her evening chores would fly out of the open window. Peter wouldn’t be able to resist himself and she had no desire to actually stop him. 

Despite her best efforts to squeeze her thighs together, he prevailed. His palm found its destination and he let out a soft inhale. 

“You naughty girl,” he rumbled in her ear. “Do you really think I wouldn’t notice you had nothing on under here? I knew it the second I walked into this apartment. What do you think I’ve been staring at all night?” 

She could feel herself growing hotter and wetter with each word that fell from his lips. His tone was nothing but pure raw lust. 

“Peter,” she whispered, stuttering over her own tongue. “I have to…to…the dishes…” 

“I never said you had to stop. Please, continue.” 

His hand slipped out from under her dress to instead tug the thin straps from her shoulders. He jerked the material down her arms to expose her breasts until the dress hung loosely around her hips. With a more leisurely caress, he ran his fingers lightly over the swell of her breast. 

“Well,” he ordered. “Keep working. I wouldn’t want to force you to stop.” 

Her pulse quickened. She loved it when he got like this. The more dominating and controlled he became, the more she craved him. She wanted him to puppet her to his will. She wanted him to take what was his without asking. 

“Yes, Peter.” 

She grabbed the wine glass she drank out of for dinner tonight but it slipped from her soapy grasp. The glass landed perfectly over a steak knife and shattered into pieces at the bottom of the sink. Before she even had time to react, Peter’s hand was tangled in her hair and yanked her head back.

“I didn’t say to break the dishes. I said to clean them,” he growled, the amused smirk evident despite her not being able to see his entire face. “Does someone need to be taught a lesson?” 

Heat flooded her core at the thought and she gave a dry swallow, “Yes, daddy.” The pet name fell out with ease. She knew exactly how to make him lose control. 

He responded with a low, dark chuckle. Her head was still snapped back, forced to stare up at the ceiling. She couldn’t see where his other hand was hiding until she felt a sharp pinch of her nipple. Hard. He twisted and tugged at it until she couldn’t hold back the whimper of pain. He wanted to hear her cry out but she held strong. He grabbed at the other one, giving it the same torture as her sister. She bit her lip to hold in any noise. 

“What’s the matter? You don’t want to scream for daddy tonight?” He tutted his tongue. “Are you trying to be a brave girl?” The growl in the back of his throat only turned her on more. “Don’t worry. I’ll have you screaming for mercy by the end. I always do.” 

Peter released both her sore nipple and her hair at the same time causing her to fall forward. She gripped the side of the counter for support. He took that as an opportunity to flip up the back of her dress to expose her bare, pantieless bottom. A palm press against her upper back, urging to bend over and arch her spine for him. Once she was in the position he deemed acceptable, his open hand came down with a deafening crack over her plump, expecting ass cheek. 

She yelped with the shock that followed the slap and couldn’t hold back the loud moan that tumbled out after the yell. She loved the sharp sting. It awakened every cell in her body. It made her feel alive. Again and again his palm ricocheted off her bottom, leaving a searing, delicious pain in its wake. 

When he paused to take in the state of her, bent over the counter, dress bunched around her waist, breasts swaying under her with each heaving breath, soap suds drying on her delicate skin, it was almost too much to handle. His fingers slid between her thighs to tease her sex. She was soaking wet. Her slick glistened on his coated fingers under the dull lights of their kitchen. A beautiful sight. One that would never get old. He probed deeper into the swollen, aching flesh, feeling her body crying out for him. 

She felt humiliated as she listened to pornographic sounds her sopping pussy made with each thrust of his hand. He pumped three fingers in and out of her without any resistance. The harder he abused her needy cunt, the more she cried out. She could feel flicks of wetness splattering down her thighs. It trickled down her legs. Her mouth hung open in a silent cry as that familiar warmth started to grow in the pit of her stomach. He was a master with his hands. A man who perfected his craft. He could bring her to a screaming orgasm with nothing but a finger if he desired. 

But, tonight, he chose a different method. 

Just before she could catch that high, Peter yanked his drenched fingers out of her. She whimpered in protest. Her head turned to beg for more but she saw that his cock was already clutched in his hand. He wasted no time guiding it into its new home. Her eyes slipped closed at the sensation of him filling her. The orgasm he had been building her towards with his hands reignited exactly where it left off as his cock plunged deeper. It was as if a strike of lightning shot straight up her spine only to explode somewhere in the depths of her skull. 

Her eyes shot open with a shocked yelp as Peter landed another hot slap against her quivering ass. She could feel her cheek jiggle from the force of the blow. That wonderful mix of pain and pleasure set off another explosion, this time down in her mons. She no longer had control over her body. Peter was holding her up. She couldn’t remember when he had moved her from bending over to arched tightly against his chest but he held her up with a strong arm locked around her neck. Her own arms dangled uselessly by her sides as he pounded into her. Her head tilted back to lull against her shoulder like a rag doll. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t make a sound. Only feel. 

The explosions kept going off. As long as Peter kept up his pace, her orgasm never ended. Each thrust of his heavy cock brought on another set of fireworks. It was almost too much for her to bear. There was nothing but the hot, persistent throbbing electrifying her skin. Peter wasn’t stopping. He was there. Pounding into her. Spreading her. Impaling her. Using her like the sex doll he craved. 

His breath was ragged, his grunts were low and deep, filling her ears with the sounds of his pleasure. He was loving this as much as she was. They were melding into one. There was no her with him. No him without her. Their bodies were entwined. Two beings moving together as one. 

She knew he was close. She did her best to fumble out the words he’d want to hear despite her lips not wanting to form anything but mindless screams. 

“F-fill me, daddy.” She mumbled, vaguely coherent. “I wan’ your cum. Fill me up. Make me yours. Take me…have me…cum inside me. I n-need you. All of you. Let me have you, daddy. Give it to me. I need it…please…please…” Tears pricked her eyes, the heightened emotions and feeling of ecstasy too much for her to handle. She wanted him. So badly that it physically hurt. 

And then the burst of warmth rocketed out of him. 

He filled her sweet pussy with the remnants of himself and she gladly accepted it all. 

Her body was being pushed back against the counter as Peter nearly collapsed on top of her with a loud, long groan. He emptied himself into her depths with shivering, jerking movements. The edge of the counter cut into her soft stomach but she didn’t care. She bore Peter’s weight, letting him finish how he needed to, until he managed to stumble back, sliding out of her, and wrapping an arm around her waist. He pulled her onto the nearest kitchen chair, cradling her in his lap. They were both dripping in sweat. Her thighs were slick with a mixture of both of their fluids. She could only give quiet, little moans with her head resting against his shoulder. Every so often another shot of lingering electricity would strike through her and she’d give an erratic shake of delayed pleasure. 

Peter’s chest rose and fell with his labored breaths. He stroked lightly down her spine and trailed patterns over her skin with the calloused pads of his fingers. They stayed like that for some time, breathing each other in, and soaking in the essence of their love. 

It was Peter who eventually spoke first. She would have been perfectly content to sit, cuddled, in silence until the morning. 

His voice was raspy and weak, “I promise I’ll do the dishes in the morning. Let’s clean you up and I’ll bring you to bed.” He placed a gentle kiss on her jaw and nipped at her earlobe.

“It’s too early to sleep,” she managed to squeak out. 

“I never said anything about sleeping. That was just round one.”

[mrshipsmcgee]

//There was nothing but the hot, persistent throbbing electrifying her skin. Peter wasn’t stopping. He was there. Pounding into her. Spreading her. Impaling her. Using her like the sex doll he craved.//

^^^^^^^^^^ read this ASAP!

Katie Katie Katie. I am so horny at 11 AM. I want to kiss your face off because of this. This was incredible. So hot. You write Peter Parker perfectly.

Always have always will.

Also - THAT WAS JUST ROUND ONE?????????