𑄝 𑁤 y/n pope-stark. a practicing corporate paralegal. who has wanda’s powers but warm pink. (these abilities are latent, so of course they change her established, young adult life forever).
𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗜𝓞 ──── In which, Peter protects you with his life, whether he’s Spiderman or Peter Parker. A shared moment between the two of you swinging through Queens quickly turns into your boyfriend taking a bullet for you when your apartment building is invaded.
﹙ 1.3k ﹚ peter parker x black!fem reader | 𝑓𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿＆𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡 established relationship
⚠️ mentions of blood/blood loss, peter is wounded, gun mentioned, strong language + more. please dni if any of the things listed are a trigger for you.
divider by @sister-lucifer
“P-Pete, I don’t wanna fall—!” You shrieked as your boyfriend swung through the busy city of Queens, the wind blowing through your coils as he sent you both flying past skyscrapers.
“I got you, you’re okay,” He spoke gently, his arm hugging your body closer to his side. Your arms were wrapped snug around his neck, becoming tighter as Peter webbed another building to swing from.
He’d tried to convince you that webbing through the city wasn’t as bad as you thought it was. With him being the one wielding the power to do so, he was always flipping through the air and hanging off of buildings and actually found it as one of his favorite pastimes when he wasn’t with you. And because he couldn’t always be with you, he wanted to do something fun for a change—something that didn’t involve fighting and having to put his life on the line.
Unfortunately for you, it was not as fun, and you did in fact find it to be as bad as you thought it might be. Each time he sprayed a new web, aiming it at one of the many buildings you passed, your stomach flipped every way possible. The weightlessness you felt before a new web caught stole the breath right from your lungs.
Even with how tight he was holding you, you still found yourself trying to cling even tighter to him the more he swung. And knowing Peter, he’d never drop you but being so high up in the air was not something you took a liking to.
You let out a few breaths, trying to calm your racing heart.
“Okay.. I’m okay..” you murmured more to yourself than to him. Your eyes cracked open to peek around you, landing on the street below you.
A small whimper left your lips as your eyes watched the cars that littered the road, the distance between you and the busy street making your heart rate pick back up again.
“No, no, no— Don’t look down,” He glanced at you and back in front of him. You forced your face back into the crook of his neck, silently praying that you would soon arrive at your apartment and be back on the ground where it was mostly safe.
Minutes later, you and Peter land in front of your apartment building. Your arms were still around his neck, holding on for dear life even after your feet had already touched the ground.
Your boyfriend huffed out a laugh from beneath his mask.
“Uh— your flight landed already,” his small joke causes you to look up at him, glaring at him so hard he thought you’d might laser right through the fabric of his mask.
“Ha-ha, very funny.” You shoved his chest playfully. “Nothing about that seemed fun, Peter.”
He snickered, watching as you turned toward the door to the apartment building.
The door opened with a small creak in the hinges, the rusty green paint chipping away each time it brushed the door frame to open.
Peter followed you inside, greeting the janitor that gave you both a confused look, probably wondering why on earth Spiderman was on your heels as you walked up the steps.
“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Peter chuckled once more. “You have to admit—that was pretty awesome.”
“Pretty awesome, my ass,” you mumbled as you found your way to your door, hands stuffing in your pockets to reach for the metal key.
You felt Peter behind you, his hand hovering over your lower back but he didn’t touch you. He leaned in close enough for you to hear him.
“I wouldn’t ever let you slip from my arms,” he said, leaning in closer to rest his chin on your shoulder.
You didn’t say anything, still fumbling with your pockets that seemed to be empty.
“Hey,” Peter called. His hands came to rest at your sides, spinning you around to face him. His mask was still on but you could feel his eyes boring into yours.
“I’d die before I let you slip,” a hushed promise, like it was something meant for your ears only. You looked up at him, looking past the makeshift eyes on his mask and into where his might’ve been.
“I know.”
Your body subconsciously moved closer to his, your chests almost touching.
But before you could move any closer to him, there was a thud against the ground, a heavy footstep coming from around the corner. Peter’s hands tensed at your sides, instinctively locking them around your waist to pull you closer to him. His gaze quickly moved from yours to the narrow corridor around the corner.
Your brows furrowed, “Pete?”
He shushed you, a low command that wasn’t as playful this time.
He swiftly shifted his weight to move in front of you, blocking your path from anything threatening.
“Peter, what—“
“Y/N, get inside.” His voice came out gruff. You looked past Peter, seeing nothing but ultimately starting to feel a bit on edge. The air was stiff, the warmth that was between the two of you quickly vanishing.
You stepped closer to Peter, huddling behind him as he watched the corner.
“What is it?” You tried asking again.
Peter stood in place without another word, trying to beckon you into the entrance of your home.
“Key,” He extends his hand backward, his eyes never leaving the corner. “Where is your key?”
You shoved your hand in your pocket again, digging for it but all you felt was the material of your pants.
“I- It’s gone,” you looked up at him, eyes filled with fear.
“It must’ve fell out or something, I don’t—“
Peter cursed under his breath. Another step came from around the corner, a metal clanking against the wall paired with it.
Your throat began to tighten as you searched all of the pockets on you and still found that they were all empty.
When you looked back up at Peter, he was reaching his hand out behind him again, pushing you against the wall.
A loud bang rung through the air as you caught a glimpse of someone running to the other side of the corridor, a firearm aimed right in your direction.
The bullet had already been released from the gun as they vanished just as fast as they came.
You hadn’t even realized Peter stumbling back, his hand landing on his abdomen before he hit the ground with a thud.
“Peter, oh my God—“ you scurried over to his body, catching his head in your hands before it could touch the floor.
He groaned, his hand clutching the damp spot on his suit.
“I’m fine, I’m alright,” his voice strained.
Your hand rested on top of his, putting pressure on the wound. Your heart pounded in your ears as you watch the stain grow, seeping through the fabric.
He lifted his head to look down, but you turn him towards your chest, cradling him there.
“No, no, don’t look at it.” Your voice wavered. Peter’s chest heaved as he struggled to breathe.
Both of your hands were stained red within seconds of just sitting there.
“We’re gonna get you help, okay? I- I promise.”
Staring down at him with bleary vision, you watched as he just nodded and reached up to pull his mask back.
“S’okay, don’t cry,” he peeled the mask back just enough for you to see his eyes fluttering.
You sniffled, shaking your head. “Nothing about you being shot is okay.”
He didn’t reply, another grunt leaving his lips as you pressed firmly on the wound.
A door opened and and quickly shut, causing you to look up to see the apartment’s janitor from earlier, rushing toward you. You reached over to pull Peter’s mask back down before the man could reach you.
He stopped in front of you, hunching over to rest his hands on his knees.
“I’ve just called for help, they’ll be here any moment.”
You nodded, still watching your boyfriend twist and squirm in pain. His promise echoed in your head, realizing that he did indeed mean every word he said. He was prepared to die for you at any cost.
“If you weren’t bleeding out right now, I’d strangle you.”
Peter chuckled before coughing a bit. “I told you I’d die before I let anything happen to you.
⤷ peter parker, lonely and in his twenties, never had much experience with women, much less, hadn’t done more than sex. although, with a woman like you, he might learn a thing or two ┊word count: 4.7k…
♡⃕ ∿ peter parker x fem!reader
♡⃕ ∿ genres && warnings: smut w/ plot ( not a lot but still ! ). inexperienced!peter. reader lovessss to kiss peter. teasing. oral ( f!receiving ). face riding. dry humping/thigh riding (?). peter is lowkey down bad for reader. peter tries to be dom for once and ends up loving it. first time pussy drunk!peter and he loves it even more. edging but peter highkey has no clue. lemme know if I missed anything !
ꪆ For the past few years, Peter wasn’t the one to be social, especially in the romance aspect of social life. Sure, a couple of hookups here and there, but rarely something deep, something intimate. Even then, it was very few, almost little to none, since being Spider-Man was more of a calling to him than ejaculating into a condom that was inside of a woman who won’t care too much about him the next morning.
It’s not that he didn’t want to open up to different ways of intimacy; he was more than sure that he did. It just didn’t feel… right; at the moment, it didn’t feel needed with whichever woman was in front of him. Not to mention that he was, too afraid to admit, that he was unsure if he was doing any of this right. Is he touching the right places? Should he kiss here? Should he kiss there? Does he keep his hands idle or move them around and hope that she doesn’t catch onto his nerves?
It’s not like there was a guidebook to hookups, and he sure as hell wasn’t gonna ask Evey how to eat pussy.
Though, even after the failed attempts at doing more than just penetration, it didn’t stop Peter from fantasizing about the moment that he could make a woman feel otherworldly from more than just his dick.
Late nights of touching himself and “study sessions” of watching videos on how to eat a woman out properly; slightly confused but also enamored by the sounds that a woman can create just off of someone’s tongue. High-pitched moans, ragged gasps, the sounds of pulling hair and movement of thighs squirming on the sheets; he studied and let himself feel it all.
Nights on end, when he wasn’t clocked in as Spider-Man, he would lie and touch, feel, imagine anything…everything. The feel of pussy that would suck him into a trance, no way in and no way out; words that would fall from the voice of desperation. “Peter- touch me. Touch me, please.” Six measly words, yet Peter wanted to follow them like it was a command.
At times, a bit pathetic, even for him, he would hump sheets while imagining tongue fucking someone or twist his wrist to capture how fingering necessarily works.
He even considered buying a pocket pussy to practice on but pulled back after a bit of shame rolled over him, and the fact that, in due time of meeting you, you two have gotten to know each other on a more physical level.
Casual, it was all casual to Peter just as it was to you. Nothing to build upon or lay a foundation with other than sex, friendship, and movie nights with stolen pajamas.
Since it was casual, you were open to almost everything that Peter was ever curious about. You knew Peter wasn’t as experienced as you and didn’t mind being his guide when it came to intimacy; times like those you enjoyed the most cause that meant having Peter in any and every way you desired.
When curious about certain positions, you would demonstrate for him while planting kisses all over him, ever so slyly moving his hands to where you wanted them. When curious about his own desires, you would answer with your body, not words. The only thing closest to words would be the hisses and whimpers Peter lets out when you’re moving leisurely to chase your own orgasm, not his.
However, when it came to your own desires, you would bring Peter into it only slightly, opening the door for you inch by inch. Not that you didn’t trust him to please you, but you could see his mind running through an anxious feeling when you opened the opportunity to let him lead; stuttering, inconsistent kissing and touching, eyes that gave a look of being lost in all of this.
As cowardly as it may sound, and the fact that he could see that unnoticed, yet noticed, frustrating look on you when he couldn’t lead both of you in this time of intimacy, it still didn’t stop Peter from wanting to do more than just kissing and fucking you.
He wanted- no, badly wanted to have you move your hips to match the pace of his tongue, even if- BZZZ BZZZ. Three knocks, two doorbell buzzes, and one second before you became impatient as you stood behind Peter’s door.
“Peter, you’re taking forever, and your apartment doesn’t have a/c. Come on before I start stripping.” The last part made Peter stop moving, and his mind jumped to the idea of seeing you in nothing but your panties and bra.
“Peter!” Again, you called his name, followed by three more knocks to the door. Peter shook his head and pulled himself back into reality; movie night with takeout from the Jamaican restaurant that is thankfully open later than they need to be.
“It’s just a movie, Peter. Don’t think of it as anything else except movies and food. Got it? Got it. Wait, but what if she-”
“You literally have two seconds to open the door before I walk away and drive home. One…two-”
Quickly going into panic mode, Peter opened the door and gave you a sheepish hi. He leaned against the door and waved, trying to slyly, hardly working though, take a glimpse at what you’re wearing.
You rolled your eyes at his pitiful attempt at hiding his gaze and walked into his apartment. You stopped to kiss him on the cheek, lightly tapping it afterward, and continued.
“If we’re gonna ditch tonight’s movie and make one of our own, lemme know now.” You looked over your shoulder, seeing Peter turning hues of red all over and his mouth hanging open as if he was caught in a lie. You smiled coyly at him. “You know, from the way you’re either tryna strip me with your eyes or stare at my tits.”
“I- I- I wasn’t. I swear I wasn’t!”
You placed the food on the coffee table and walked over to Peter, pulling him away and closing the door behind him.
You analyzed Peter, seeing his curls lightly bouncing against his forehead, mahogany eyes trying to avoid yours, knowing he’ll give in to whatever you wish for if he looks directly into your pupils. Like a whirlpool, your presence seems to surround him, attempting to swallow him, and the only way out is to surrender.
Your stance of heavy eye contact holding him, your lips smiling in a way that may look plain but might instead bewitch him, and your hands, combing through his freshly washed curls, then gliding down to hold onto his chin. You pulled his head to your eye level and forced him to look at you, to look into you. It’s as if you wanted to enchant him, have your eyes speak to his soul, and bring him into what you wanted, what you craved from him.
You moved closer to him, enclosing the space that limited your touch and bringing yourself chest to chest with him. Still having his chin in your grasp, you pulled his head closer until his held-up breath touched your lips; the tip of his nose barely grazing yours.
Peter’s brain was going frantic, growing nervous from the way you easily had him at your will. He knew he shouldn’t succumb to you that easily, and that quickly, but why pull away?
Lips not even inches away; your nail lightly grazing his cheek, close to scratching that one spot that makes Peter catch his breath.
Potentially, you could trace your nail along the line of his lips, pulling the bottom lip and leaving his mouth open ever so slightly. Or leave deep kisses along his chin and press him against any surface, touching him in all the places that you know will make his body fall onto you.
As much as Peter would want both to happen to him, he needed tonight not to start too early and end too soon. He cleared his throat. “Umm, the movie. I think you’ll like what I chose tonight.”
He took your hand off his chin and interlaced his fingers with yours. You still had the coy look, the charming lilt in your voice as you responded, “Right…the movie, yeah.”
He led you over to the sofa bed lying across from the TV. You took your shoes off, sat with one leg on top of the other, your elbow placed on your leg as your hand held your hand. You were watching Peter gather all the plates and utensils for the food.
You gave a satisfied hum as you saw his tee ride up as he reached over the cabinets. His abdomen was showing; strongly built, with the lining very apparent, you just wanna trace along each line. It also doesn’t help that his V-line appears below his abdomen.
“Ready for the movie?” Peter asked, which brought you out of whatever daze his body had you in. He placed the plates down on the coffee table and took a seat next to you.
You blinked a few times and smiled at him. “Yeah, yeah. What are we watching?”
“Power Rangers. I remember you telling me that you and your brother used to watch it as kids, so I thought maybe you might enjoy it. I didn’t know which year you liked, so I rented quite a few.” Nervously looking, he chuckled and scratched the back of his head.
“Aww, how sweet, Peter, thank you.” You turned over to his head and kissed him on the cheek again out of endearment, and it just so happened to be a habit budding between you and Peter.
Peter cleared his throat, trying to calm himself down and not short-circuit just from a kiss. He picked up the DVDs on his nightstand and handed them to you, giving you the option to choose which to watch tonight.
“I trust your judgment, and I think I’ll like whichever one you pick.”
You snorted, looking up from the collection of DVDs in your hands. “You trust me for a lot of things, P,” Sneering at him, “and I mean a lot of things.”
“Well, that just means you’re a trustworthy person.”
You hummed as a reply. You got up from the sofa bed and placed the DVD in the DVD player that was in front of the TV. You turned your head again to where he was sitting. “Have you ever watched any Power Rangers movie? Or even a series? It’s fine if you haven’t; I’m just wondering.”
“Nahh, I was more of a Star Wars kid with…”
“With…?” You asked as you waited for him to finish. You sat back on the bed and grabbed the remote on the nightstand closer to you.
“A childhood friend of mine, but we parted ways.”
Peter moved his legs from a semi-criss-cross position and lay back onto the back of the sofa bed. You shifted downwards on the bed and laid your head down, facing Peter. You propped up your arm and laid your head on your hands; you gave him a sympathetic look as you combed through his curls again. “Mmm I’m sorry, Peter.”
He sighed, raising his hand and letting it fall onto his thigh. “It’s cool. I think it might be better this way.”
You contemplated responding to that with disagreement, but from the saddened look Peter started to show, you didn’t wanna intrude. As familiar as the two of you were getting, outside of physicality, you were unsure whether to ask Peter about certain things, or if your friendship was at a point to have conversations with more substance than now.
Instead, you gave him a small smile and planted another kiss on the cheek. Your smile grew a bit more, but it still showed sympathy.
Peter had a small smile on his face after the kiss. “Why do you like kissing me so much?”
You shrugged. “Why not? You’re fun to kiss, plus you need to be more accustomed to my kisses.”
He turned towards you, his elbow propped up just as you had yours. “But I already am.”
You replied with uncertainty, “Mmmm are you? Cause every time I lean more into you while kissing, you become nervous. Like you become scared to touch me or sumn.”
He scoffed playfully, “That’s not- that is not true. I just- I just…”
You raised an eyebrow, giving him a playful smirk as you awaited his response. You could tell his brain was trying to configure the perfect response, trying to sound cool and impress you. But after the various starts and stops in his sentence, he caved and sighed.
You giggled at his defeat and hooked your leg on his. You pulled yourself closer than before, with as little space as possible, similar to earlier when he let you into his apartment.
“I would say it is fine that you are nervous; that’s almost everyone who doesn’t have as much experience. But you don’t have to be scared of me; I’m not gonna bite you or anything.” You paused. “Unless that’s what you’re into. I’m not one to judge!”
Peter responded with a light laugh and shook his head. He looked up after and caught himself looking into your eyes, keeping them there. He was taken aback again, feeling that same tug from earlier, and found himself drowning in your presence as you kept your eyes on him. He couldn’t do anything more than just look into you until one of you moved away or caved into the intensifying tension.
As minutes passed, you had stayed in the same posture, elbow propped as you watched Peter. He seemed frozen, a bit stuck, as one would say. You began to turn to lie on your back until you felt your wrist being pulled and lips clashing into yours.
The kiss stunned you, bringing you into shock that Peter took the initiative and that it wasn’t you this time. You looked at him with blown-out pupils as he apologized frantically, saying he was sorry for that and he should’ve asked for permission. He should’ve waited; it was impulsive, it was-
You kissed him back, with more depth than how he kissed you. You pressed more into him. You kept your lips on his, both of you going after the pace of the other. Lips tangled upon each other, your hands grazing along the back of his neck, and Peter kept his hands on the curve of your hips.
The kiss became messy; it became needy; it came to the point where your only focus was him and every feeling his lips brought out of you. As if suddenly, any and everything disappeared, the world faded around you, and the only thing there was the soft, brunette male with kind eyes. The kind of eyes that ask before doing, think before saying, the kind of eyes that seek another person more than himself.
Though covered by his eyelids, fluttering from time to time, when you caught a glimpse of them, they seemed darker. Not completely a different shade, but you can tell that Peter is giving in to himself.
The way he keeps brushing his hands all along your hips and lower half of your belly; how he pushes you against him more and more, as if he couldn’t keep himself separated from you any longer. Every time you both stopped to catch yourselves, only a second passed before you two were kissing one another intensely.
You slipped your tongue in when Peter had his mouth open, moving it against his tongue like the two were meant to dance alongside each other. Yet he broke it up by licking a thick stripe against your tongue, pulling at it then letting it go. You pulled at his, repeating his movements yet lasting longer after his muffled groans.
You felt Peter slotting his thick quadriceps in between your legs. His knee pushed against your core, yet he didn’t notice until he heard a gasp coming from you. Though after hearing it, it didn’t stop him; instead, it lit a fire inside him. This ignition, blooming from the deep want of you, felt foreign to him, but it didn’t change how he moved against you; too stuck in this impaired state of lust to notice himself grinding his thigh between your thighs, knee pressing further into your clothed core.
Much of the friction against your inner thigh and his knee pressed deeply into you had you let out whimpers, moans, all the obscene sounds that Peter craved to hear from you, falling loosely between kisses. You tried to let them go unnoticed between you and Peter, but of course, the state that he is in asked you, pleaded with you to do it again. Your sounds were a symphony he so badly desired to string together. He didn’t want you to stop; he didn’t want you to shy away from letting him know how good you felt writhing against his thigh. Peter wanted to hear it all, to feel it all within the growing heat between the two of you and the dampness he felt on your shorts.
As he felt you twitching on his lower leg, he stopped, then pushed his knee towards the direction of your clit, causing a deep moan to be brought out of you. He moved his thigh away from between your legs; he stopped kissing you to one, catch his breath, and two, to examine how you were.
You slightly, very slightly, moved back and tilted your head, questioning why Peter stopped. He kissed you again, imitating the way you kissed his cheek earlier. He let quietness fill the space, very little space, between the two of you. His other hand traveled downward towards the inner parts of his thigh, brushing his fingertips along the marks that were apparent on you. He didn’t answer you but instead replied with a question of his own.
“Do you trust me?”
“I mean, you’re a trustworthy person.” He softly laughed at you imitating his answer from earlier.
“That’s all I needed to hear.” Peter didn’t give you much of a chance to question his motive as he positioned himself with his back against the sofa. He held you by your waist and brought you onto his lap, having you look straight at him just as he was at you.
You two stayed like this, looking into one another as you both waited for one to break away.
“Can I- can I um take these off of you?” Peter asked you as he played with the waistband of your shorts.
You grinned at his shyness. “For someone close to deepthroating me with his tongue, you’re still pretty shy.” You puckered your lips, pouting at Peter. “Why is that?”
You guided his hands along your waistband, toying with them and then taking them off at a leisurely pace. It made Peter ache, as patience was not on his side, but he was never one to break away from your assistance.
You grabbed your shorts from his hand and tossed them at the side of his bed. You wrapped your arms around his neck and moved yourself closer to him; your lips brushed upon the shell of his ear. You whispered sensually, “Don’t be shy baby, not now. Not when you’ve shown me how much you want me.”
You kissed his ear, leaving another behind his ear, and one more below it, close to his jaw. “Aren’t I what you want, P?” Another kiss planted below his ear, keeping your place and kissing there. Kissing turned into licking and sucking, desiring to leave love bites below his ear and around his jawline, dangerously close to his neck.
Peter groaned at the contact of your plush lips on his jaw, feeling himself heat up as you were becoming close to the pulse points of his neck. Your soft lips kissing him all over his jaw and neck, your nails lightly grazing along his back, light teasing said in between, Peter was slipping back into your grasp.
Peter could feel himself giving back into you, as if a spell that you placed on him made him fall so easily onto you. Like a switch that could turn off for Peter and have him following only your lead. As much as he found infatuation with the way you turned him into your own plaything, he couldn’t feed into you yet. Not now.
Yet it boosted your ego the way Peter lets you use him however you like. Him dragging out a moan, his eyes fluttering closed as you nipped at his neck. The way he bucked up onto you as you rocked your wet cunt along his shorts.
You wanted to see how much further you could have Peter held into your trance; you moved one of his hands between your thighs and maneuvered his palm to cup your pussy. To give him a feeling of how wet he has made you, how much your sensitive hole was needing him. The other hand moved to hold onto the curve of your ass.
You guided Peter into having fingers trace along your lips, and even helping him tease the entry of your pussy. Soon enough, you forget that you were kind of helping Peter touch you after he pressed his thumb on your clit. You strung out a whine, and he apologized, thinking he pushed into it too hard.
“Sorry, sorry. Was that too rough?” Peter pulled his hand back, but you pushed it back onto you.
You shook your head. “No, you’re doing fine. Really, that was perfect, just please keep going. Actually,” You used Peter’s hands to rub along your clit, “just like that. Keep going just like that.”
He followed your command and continued to circle your clit. Both of you became clouded as you leaned more into his touch and he quickened his pace. He slowed down when you started rutting against his hand and asked him to go slower. You didn’t want him to rush anything, especially not now with his hand making you feel like static.
He kept the pace you wanted, watching how your mouth hung open as you let out whimpers and moans, mixing the two at some point. You moaned his name in between, praising him and insistent on telling him how good his fingers feel on you.
Your nails that were on the back of his neck began to scratch him. You dug deep into his soft curls, tugging at them as you felt something blazing inside of you, a gnawing feeling ready to blow as you were close. You quickened your own pace of humping against Peter’s hand, but Peter decided against it.
You hadn’t noticed anything of Peter, too lost in your haze of lust, except his fingernails digging into the flesh of your ass, pushing you upwards as your knees landed on his shoulders.
You weren’t given a chance to react except the sudden gasp coming from you as you felt a harsh suck on your clit. Steady hands held you up as Peter kissed your clit with fervor, but somehow kept a steady pace. He switched between kissing and sucking your clit, lightly pulling it with his lips, then letting go.
He pushed you up further, then pressed your cunt onto his face, leaving you to press your hands against the wall for support. You felt the bridge of his nose bumping against your aching clit. You tried to move against it to feel something but instead felt a long lick along your lips. You moaned at the touch and pressed your legs against Peter’s head.
Feeling your thighs pressed so closely against both sides of his head, having your wet cunt drag against his face, Peter felt himself fall into a state of elation. He couldn’t bring himself to pull away after tasting how sweet you were and the satisfactory feeling of you clenching around his tongue. This couldn’t be more than what Peter wanted: to have you in pure bliss but falling into his own.
Another swipe of his tongue on your lips, and yet he pressed deeper than before. Reaching places you weren’t aware were sensitive, and rocking your body back and forth. He kept at it until the tip of his tongue reached your wet hole. He’s become accustomed to your sweet, sweet cunt leaking a sticky, white substance that he was entranced by. He licked and sucked away all the substance that covered your pussy, but more kept forming as his mouth stayed on you.
Your legs were shaking, your strength fading as a burn began to grow in your stomach. It was as if a thread held together the knots in your stomach and was close to snapping apart. You tried to hold it together, keeping up with the way Peter had you grinding against his face.
You hoped Peter would notice that you were close, not wanting to cum yet. But you doubted it when Peter purposefully bumped his nose against your clit every time your pussy came back onto his face. Also, the way he went back to teasing your weeping hole.
You tried to call his name, but instead it came out as a whine; high-pitched and broken. All that you tried to say became incoherent, and it didn’t help that his mind was becoming fuzzy again, drowning out everything around him. All Peter could do was feel and taste. He couldn’t stop; he wouldn’t stop when the most perfect thing sat in front of him, all wet, lewd sounds stringing from it, and clamping down on whatever touched it.
Zeroed in on your now puffy clit, he continued with his pattern of kissing messily, sucking harshly, not even noticing how he made the final thread snap. He didn’t even notice how your movements became messy and rough, chasing after the orgasm you finally let go of. It kept your inner thighs burning along, twitching alongside Peter, and close to falling off of him.
Your now weakened knees fell off of his shoulders, almost having you fall off to the side of the bed had Peter not caught you. He kept his hands on the lower half of your back and laid you back on his lap. You fell onto his chest, holding him for balance as you tried to catch your breath. He felt your chest heave and your breathing become jagged.
Peter was trying to catch himself as well, slowing down his mind and stretching out his limbs. He extended his arms to wrap around your back, embracing you in a kind hug. No tension, no intense passion, just silence that surrounded the two of you.
Peter kissed your head and hummed into your hair, quietly listening to your breathing slow down. His hazed mind cleared and came back down. It was brought back to the sight of you holding onto his shoulders, a twitch felt against his thigh here and there; he smiled at the sight. He felt satisfaction, fulfilled, but also a growing addiction to have you like this.
To have you holding onto his strength as the pad of his thumb made you pursue your own ecstasy. To have beautiful sounds leaving your plush, luscious lips as he made out with you, your skin, and your needy cunt. The savoring, sweet taste of you dripping onto his lips made him want more of you; he needed to bring out more of your sticky liquid and let it fall onto the flat of your tongue. If he could, he would live under you, dragging his tongue against you, and have you blissed out until you're asking him to go faster, or maybe go harder.
He was ready to ask if he could taste you again, but you interrupted. You moved back from his chest, eyeing him, and asked, “Have you ever eaten a girl out?”
Peter stayed quiet, having no answer to your question. You were amazed, more so amused at this new information. Peter has never done oral on a woman…wow.
Your mouth opened in shock. “Never?!”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Consider yourself to be the first.” You were ready to question how he learned how to do what he just did to you, but you left it alone. You lay back down on his chest and hugged him back. You smiled and said with delight, “I’m honored.”
𐔌 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘪 💭⭑.ᐟ ꒱
♡⃕ this is like the longest I’ve ever wrote for a fic. please don’t ever expect this length from me again omg 😭. but truly, I did have so much fun writing this and I cannot thank my amazing mootie ( @neighbourscat ) for proofreading this for me. THANK YOU BBY 😙💕
♡⃕ I tried to keep at a pace that didn’t make peter totally sub. more so switch with sub leaning ?? I hope I execute it decently
♡⃕ thank you so much to all who read. love you all 🫶🏾
I loveeee your stories, would you ever write a series for Cameron Cade?
𑄝 𑁤 hiyyyaaaa! thankyou for the love )-: & believe me, i have tried! a fewwwwww times. but i can 1000% admit that i seriously lack discipline. i have ideas, always, but my problem is world-building & keeping the structure. when i write, i don’t brainstorm / i don’t do layouts (the very thing we all are taught in elementary creative-writing). i “plot” as i type & in doing that, i get my timelines messed & it’s just super confusing!
i’ve always found it easier to publish short-singles or a miniseries. i feel like those do the best on my tumblr account personally. but i do want to write something more thought-out.
