[nycains]

་༘࿐ nav computer. MDNI.

agent AVEN / AVENUE ;20s tips 🫙

known relation(s) spider-man's main venom's kidnappee iron man's situationship wolverine's former lover deadpool's victim captain america's interest harry osborn’s sugar baby

status ACTIVE identifiable markers ⋮ dark content - advise caution

[nycains]

⌗ ID ⋮ peter parker / spider-man

aus symbiote!peter ex!peter fwb!peter

“ be gentle, please ” ft. black!cat!reader 18+

“ when i put my lips on you ” ft. fwb!peter 18+

જ⁀➴ masterlist

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save me, spidey ᝰ.ᐟ

peter parker / spider-man page 1

for his appearance in marvel spider-man (2018), spider-man: brand new day (2026), the amazing spider-man (2012)

as portrayed by john bubniak, yuri lowenthal, tom holland, andrew garfield, ben jordan

venom page 2

for his appearance in marvel spider-man 2 (2023)

as portrayed by tony todd

tony stark / iron man page 3

for his appearance in avengers (2012)

as portrayed by robert downey jr.

logan howlett / the wolverine page 4

for his appearance in x-men origins: wolverine (2009)

as portrayed by hugh jackman

wade wilson / deadpool page 5

for his appearance in deadpool (2016), ultimate spider-man (2012)

as portrayed by ryan reynolds, will friedle

steve rogers / captain america page 6

for his appearance in captain america: the winter soldier (2014)

as portrayed by chris evans

harry osborn / the green goblin page 7

for his appearance in spider-man (2002) - spider-man 3 (2007)

as portrayed by james franco

readers

black!cat!reader

©nycains 2026 ⋮ do not copy, steal, plagiarize, or feed ai my work. characters do not belong to me.

[nycains]

peter is such a munch omfg if u take requests can we get something about that please pls

“ when i put my lips on you ” MDNI

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 fwb!peter parker / spider-man x reader tip jar

inspo masterlist જ⁀➴ lips on you — maroon 5

warnings fem!reader established relationship: fwb explicit sexual content porn no plot oral sex (f receiving) hair pulling (m receiving) fingering mention (f receiving) no aftercare.

peter parker being your favorite on-call munch. you’d be calling your encounters dick appointments if you ever got that far, but mostly your hook-ups entail texting him to come toss neck for an hour. he’s got your thighs up on his shoulders while he’s laid out between them, peering at you from over your mound to gauge your reaction while his faithful tongue is on your sex. pointed, ‘oooh’s’ and sharp, ‘ah!’s mix a cocktail in your mouth while you reapply the pomade in his hair with the sweat off your hands, sticking his brown flop of curls straight up at the root. the music on his phone dully plays something funny like john mayer that you’d tease him for if you weren’t so distracted. as soon as he’d gotten here he’d thrown off his jacket holding your gaze so intensely, slack jaw chasing yours as soon as he crawled onto the bed to follow you as you tauntingly scurried back. those muscles in one arm enclosed over your ankle to yank you back into a laying position so he could hover over you, let you feel up his abs when he shoved his tongue down your throat as an appetizer to the next hole he was going to shove his tongue down.

he feels your pussy pulse against him, slick on your walls that he can taste when he dips in. the tip of his nose bumps your clit n your hips jump, involuntarily jerking his head down further into your heat that earns you a very impressed and intrigued sound from between your thighs. it ups his ante, the web of his thumbs cutting into the handle of your waist when he draws you closer to him with a deep inhale, breathing you in. “jesus fucking christ.” you say in awe of a man that inhaled your scent and pre like his face was made for a cunt seat. you almost feel pity for him - almost. it’s not like you can weigh the morality of taking advantage of whatever feelings your fwb might have for you, you’re only focused on benefiting, biting your lower lip hard as hazy eyes hone in on him to watch the show. deliberately, he shakes his head like he’s saying “no,” digging the flat of his tongue into your eager bud and he looks too content doing it. your spine straightens, sinking your pillow and reaching up to grasp the edges. once his hair is free, he can’t resist speaking against your gummy clit.

“you taste so fucking good.” he praises, throaty and desperate. the corners of your mouth curl up proudly. he purses his lips, dragging your swollen pearl through them with a certain kind of gentle friction that has you arching off the bed with a harsh cry and a vague curse. he polishes it off with another lick, tracing up your puffy slit until he’s back where he started. “you don’t want anything else do you?” he asks, breathless and making up for the lack of contact with a sweet kiss to the crest of your sex. “because… i was kinda hoping…” his own enthusiasm keeps him faithfully tonguing between words. for one second, your judgment lapses, assuming he’s about to ask if you wanna fuck. “i could finger you?” your gazes meet, his hopeful, yours surprised, until you melt into a sappy grin, lovingly petting back his wild hair.

“go for it, tiger.”

©nycains 2026 ⋮ do not copy, steal, plagiarize, or feed ai my work. characters do not belong to me.

[nycains]

“ be gentle, please ” MDNI

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 peter parker / spider-man x black!cat!reader tip jar

inspo masterlist જ⁀➴ a comic panel supplied by @cherrywineisawaltz

warnings fem!black!cat!reader established relationship: situationship mentor x mentee dynamics injured!peter explicit sexual content painkiller use mentioned implied memory loss dubcon: sex while drugged (m receiving) p in v fluff if you squint.

“don’t panic. i’m coming in.” a spindly, clawed hand splays against the glass of a window, pushing it up. languidly peter lulls his head in the general direction, heavy lids peeling open just as the figure slithers inside.

“it’s you.” he says with an air of surprise that you’re sure you’ve earned, carefully closing the window behind you even though it resists. wd-40 is not on your mind right now, however.

“yes, well,” you come to stand at his bedside, drinking him in under the dull light of the moon. you smirk, a brave face for him. “i had to check on my favorite patient.” gracefully, you loom over him, noting his split lip and swollen temple. he’s still wearing that filthy suit but he left the mask you peeled off, a blue and white arm sling to adorn it all. he scoffs and rolls his eyes, which you’re sure would hurt if he hadn’t taken those painkillers you practically forced down his throat.

“c’mon,” he sputters. “i’m not your favorite patient.” his speech slurs, and it’s easy to tell he’s out of it, exaggerating his incredulous taunt with a dizzy spin of his head. to circumvent his self-imposed vertigo, you palm his hairline, stroking down his wild hair with your thumb. it’s an exceedingly rare and intimate gesture - one that catches him off guard. a pause. he looks up at you with lucidity.

you answer his palpable silence because you know him. “it’s done.” you purr. “i took care of it.”

“and everyone’s safe?”

“i made sure - i even stayed after to help the injured. you would’ve been proud.” the muscles in his neck relax, landing his head deep into the pillow with a sigh of relief. eyes closed, it’s written all over him that he could nod off at any second.

“now i know i’m dreaming.” you laugh through your nose at his little quip. a glance down at the red split in his lip, and before you know it you press a soft kiss to it. he doesn’t react, so naturally you assume he passed out after forcing himself to stay awake for the time it took you to handle the scene of the crime. “you smell good.” he exhales, catching the waft of whatever’s in your hair or on your neck, a boyish twinge to his mouth. you can’t help but grin down at him, sitting fully onto the bed, tucked into his side. propping yourself up on either side of him, weight sinking into the pillow, you can’t resist another kiss while he’s like this. you know he won’t remember most of this in the morning. you pucker, brushing yours against his until he rouses just enough to receive it. it charms you when he hums so contentedly, albeit somewhat exaggeratedly. when he doesn’t push you off or exclaim in pain, you commit to it, breathing him in during a deep lip-lock. it’s not you, but him that initiates tongue, earning a keen of surprise when he parts your lips with his to skillfully slide his tongue against yours - a tribute to his superior muscle memory.

after pulling him from the fire earlier, you know he’s not in his right mind, he’s even talking loopy. so, you decide to be the good guy for the second time tonight. you rear, speaking against his lips, “you should get some rest, peter.” referring to him not as “kid,” not as “spider,” — but “peter.” a virtuous resolve that’s quickly fading with each passing second he shows his desire for you.

“can you stay?” he asks, glancing between your gaze and your mouth with heart-eyes. there’s this sense you can’t shake that you’re having a second conversation underneath this one. you nod.

“i just want you to feel better.” you confess, far too vulnerably for your own liking.

“i’ve had this dream before.” he confesses as well, and you can’t discern exactly what he means. “be gentle, please.” . . .

“this is - fuck…” peter breathes, the air in his lungs pushed out like a bellows. his eyes squeeze shut, jaw slack as he drinks in the sensations of you wrapped around his every inch while you ride him slow and steady. propped up on your hands behind you, you roll your hips to stroke him with your insides like an expert, angling his tip perfectly to kiss that spongy spot inside you.

“i just want you to feel better, peter.” you reiterate that phrase, a teasing and sultry edge to it this time, opening his eyes to gaze up at you like you’re everything.

“oh, i feel amazing.” he insists, and you’re sure it’s the painkillers talking. you had to give him some pretty strong stuff. his one free hand squeeze into the meat of your hip, spurring you on when you speed up the pace, introducing it to him little by little. “this feels so good - so good… i feel better already.” you chuckle through your nose, leaning forward and out of muscle memory your hands splay against his bruised abdomen, briefly resting weight there until he winces. “except-when-you-do-that-ow-ow—!” you flinch off of him, hissing apologetically through your teeth.

“sorry.” his hand catches you around your wrist, and you can feel him desperately try to brace his legs to flex under you, chasing the lost momentum.

“don’t stop, please, don’t stop.” he pleads, and you can’t see his eyes. you’re afraid to do the wrong thing again, but when he begs you for help, there’s not a part of you that can refuse him. you meet his pace, your nails resting on his abs without any pressure this time.

“relax, let me do it.” you instruct, expecting to recognize his descent to an ultimate halt, carving out room for you to continue, but it never comes. instead, he shakes his head petulantly. sharp chuffs of air expel from his puckered lips with every thrust like he’s working out, using you as some fitness exercise for his body that’s still working through its healing. “peter.” you try to reason with him with fervor, but he only opens his eyes, pleading with you through his gaze, ignoring conversation. your stiffened figure relaxes, slotting into his movements until you two become one. it’s deeper than before, his efforts plunging it high up in your guts - better than you could ever do by yourself. you can see the way his eyes wince, his bottom lash lines squinting every time he has to flex to raise his hips up into you. be gentle, please, he’d said.

©nycains 2026 ⋮ do not copy, steal, plagiarize, or feed ai my work. characters do not belong to me.

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