A/N: Introducing new characters and some drama! Percy is still sexy as ever :’(.
Warnings: BJ
I woke up to a door slamming so hard it joined the symphony of my pounding headache. I groaned, hoisting myself over the back of the couch to investigate to intrusion. A brunette head of long sweeping hair rushed through the foyer, barreling towards the kitchen. A familiar mop of black hair hurried after.
Reyna was speaking so fast in Spanish my brain scrambled to keep up. I noted lots of curse words followed by a series of sentences too fast I was surprised she even knew what she was saying. Percy was answering in slow measured words, probably fighting a hangover of equal measure. I ducked behind the back of the couch, reaching for my phone plugged in on the coffee table.
It was noon. 2% battery and a couple messages from friends. Nothing from my ex thank gods. Five from Annabeth being nosey. I opened my uber app, squinting in the sunlight breaking through the cream curtains. I managed to get my driver secured.
A door slammed and I winced, peaking to check that they were in another room. I did not immediately spot my dress in the chaotic. I grimaced remembering the midnight swim. When I sat up I finally noticed the white tshirt I wore and the basketball shorts. And then I went rigid remembering what happened after the swim.
(Because Logan Lerman is a sexy, spicy man and I’m bored at 2am. Might make this a series??? I love Annabeth too much to make her the scorned lover in this. So for this purpose, just say they amicably split up after high school.)
Warnings–NSFW, oral
The fizzy pink champagne bubbles did not mix well with the three shots of jack I had taken upon immediately walking in to the party. I contemplated making my way to the snack table back inside but that risked running into one or both of the affianced couple and that made me more nauseous than the alcohol. Seeing the boundless love and joy would in fact make me vomit. So, I took another swig from the bottle to chase that thought away.
Cheers came from the far side of the pool where a riveting game of flip cup was occurring. I was sure Reyna was thrilled about the turning of her upscale event into a classic keg party, with sticky floors and people vomiting in the well-maintained front yard included. I smiled as a shirtless son of Hephaestus cannonballed into the glowing blue pool. He surfaced floating on his back, beer belly poking out.
I picked at my now soaked dress, frowning only slightly. Serves me right for sitting in the lounge chair directly by the deep end, but avoiding speaking to anyone had been the more pressing matter upon arrival.
“Gods, do you just have a cell phone just for show? I swear to Zeus you never answer that thing. I’ve been texting you for half an hour wondering if you were going to show.” Annabeth strutted over in her sky high silver stilettos. I marveled at how she did not even falter on the now water-slick concrete. She claimed the lounge chair next to me, yanking it closer so we sat knee to knee.
“Of course. I wouldn’t leave Percy hanging on his engagement party. He’s my best friend.”
harry's girl // any!peter parker -- non powered!au/virgin!peter
and she's loving him with that body, i just know it.
❥ you're dating Harry Osborne, Peter's best friend since kindergarten. And that should be totally fine... except Peter can't stop thinking about you. ((NSFW)) ib: jessie's girl by rick springfield.
wc: 6k - should be more, imo but, whatever, i'm lazy.
navigation — mit!au
Peter Parker and Harry Osborne had been inseparable since, basically, birth. Well, except for the four years of high school that Harry's dad had sent him away to private school.
Both boys had tried to stay in touch, but with the distance, and honors classes, and clubs it was difficult.
After high school, both Peter and Harry ended up at The Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Elated to see one another, Harry had invited Peter to a beginning of the year party being hosted by one of his friends.
Peter tentatively accepted.
He had walked into this house expecting something not completely unlike the grandeur he found. Marble floors, giant windows, and authentic art adorning the magnificence of the estate.
A home so nice, Peter never believed he'd ever step foot in one. Classical music was flowing from all corners of the manor, bringing Peter out of his daze.
I mean, who plays Mozart at a college party?
Except; this isn't college, it's an institute. And this is no mere party, it was a gathering of some of the richest and smartest twenty-something's in the country to drink expensive booze, or liquor rather, and have sex.
A lot of which was already taking place around him.
Peter found an antique looking loveseat in the corner of the drawing room and slunk into it.
He opened his phone, scrolling through a random social feed and allowing his mind to go numb.
"Parker!" A tall, thin boy emerged through the crowd of bodies, smiling from ear to ear.
"Osborne." Peter smiles back, standing to greet his friend.
"I'm glad you made it! I didn't know if it was your scene or not, but I hope you enjoy it all the same."
Peter nodded, looking to Harry's side and making eye contact with one of the most beautiful people he's ever seen. "Oh. Hello," His voice is small.
"Hi," you smile at the charming boy in front of you.
Peter feels himself internally retreat back, instantly self conscious of what you think of him. Was he weird for being on his phone at a party? Were the clothes he picked out wrong? Did he seem uninteresting?
"Ah, Peter. This is my girl," Harry squeezes you closer to him and you both smile as he gives Peter your name.
Having his fear confirmed, Peter gives a tight smile.
⡠﹞⚘﹝⠢
Peter didn't care much for the party. The drinks were nice, but he'd honestly rather be home.
He found himself outside on the porch, propped on the railing and watching his sigh disappear in the cold night air.
⡠﹞⚘﹝⠢
Days turned into weeks of school, studying, reluctantly being drug off to parties, and staring at a wall - trying not to notice you and Harry in the corner, making out.
Every now and then, Peter would watch Harry drag you off to one of the bedrooms, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach.
Most often, though, Peter would hide in the bathroom. He was trying to avoid the sight altogether.
That's where he is now. Sat on the edge of the tub, head rested in his hands as he internally screams at himself.
You can't have a crush on your best friend's girlfriend! That's the biggest rule in bro-code! What the fuck is wrong with me?
Peter rubbed his hands down his face. Sighing. His rumination broken by the sudden slam of a door. Giggling and shuffling.
Peter hadn't given much thought to choosing a bathroom that was connected to a bedroom. Until now.
He cracked the door open and the sight before him made his mouth dry. You were pushing Harry onto the bed, scooting your dress down your body.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Peter quickly, but quietly shut the door. Heart pounding, he slides down the wall.
"God, you're so beautiful," Harry sighed.
Peter pressed a fist to his eye. God I'm an idiot.
It wasn't long before he heard moaning, damn near screaming, and dirty talk he'd rather have never heard from his best friend.
"Such a good girl... just like that... fuck."
Peter would cover his ears but it'd do no good. Instead he covers his face, ignoring the twitch in his pants at every single noise you make. He tries not to think about what's going on behind that door.
But his mind keeps flowing back. To you. To your body, your moans. It's not long before Peter is hard and imagining how good it'd feel to be inside you.
He can hear everything. Every time you cum, which has been many. Every time the position changes. Even every time Harry puts his hand around your throat.
It's everything Peter can do to not touch himself right there in the bathroom. He's gripping at the sides of his pants, trying - desperately - to hold out.
Finally, he can hear Harry finish. All three of you out of breath. A kiss. And what sounds like clothes being put back on.
"I gotta go, baby. The boys are wanting me to do a final round of shots with them."
"I gotta go too, my roommate wants me to bring take-out on my way back."
With that, silence follows for the first time in what felt to Peter like hours.
⡠﹞⚘﹝⠢
When Peter got home he ran a cold shower instantly. Scrubbing his body raw and pushing his mind away from anything to do with you.
Harsh indeed, but necessary.
And as he laid down in bed, he tossed and turned all night. The only dreams and thoughts he had were of you.
⡠﹞⚘﹝⠢
Peter Parker awoke the next morning more erect than the night before. He had his subconscious to thank for that.
This began a series of sleepless nights for Peter. Each night restless, and each morning flustered.
He had opted out of the last three parties Harry had invited him to. All being on a Friday night, Peter lied and said he had a weekend full of studying to do.
"Always the most dedicated student, even in your twenties, I see," Harry had mused this afternoon.
Peter gave an awkward nod of his head and walked away.
Later in the evening, Harry had texted Peter.
I know you said you're busy this weekend, but you should drop by my place for some lunch tomorrow.
Peter flopped his phone beside him on the couch, sighing. He hated what his feelings had made of him. He was avoiding his best friend of years all because of a stupid crush.
He picked his phone back up.
I'm sure I can squeeze in a lunch. It better not be that pizza from last time though.
Peter smiled at the memory of the burnt pizza Harry had attempted to make, turning his head back to the tv.
⡠﹞⚘﹝⠢
Peter walked into Harry's apartment, following the information given to him the night prior about the door being unlocked.
He looked around, admiring Harry's decorations. His friend is nowhere to be found. Peter called out,
"Hey, Harry?"
Silence.
Maybe he's getting changed or something.
Peter makes his way back to what he assumes to be the bedroom. He freezes about a foot away from the door. It's wide open. And he can see the whole room.
To put it gently, you and Harry seemed to be having a great time.
You were on top of him, blanket wrapped around your waist with your bare back showing. Soft moans flowing down the hallway.
Peter couldn't take his eyes away from the indents Harry's fingertips were making in your lower back.
Shit.
Peter's pants tightened. He couldn't look away. The way you were slowly rising and falling onto Harry's lap instantly being etched into Peter's mind.
"Fuck... Harry... m'gonna..." you threw your head back.
He had never heard such an angelic sound in his life. Poor Peter believed he might have a heart attack at the sight before him. All he could do was blink.
The echo of your climax rattled its way through the apartment. And finally, Peter came back to earth.
Fuck. Fuck, what if they see me? God, it's gonna look so weird.
A split-second decision had Peter quietly scurrying to the door. How do I keep ending up in these situations? He stepped out into the hallway, catching his breath. Peter tugged his phone out of his pocket, and messaging his friend.
Hey, I'm here.
In a moment Harry was opening the door, sleep shorts the only clothing on his thin frame. He was smiling.
"Peter! I told you the door would be unlocked."
"Yeah," Peter gave a sheepish smile. "I was just nervous."
You and Peter ended up sitting together at a small table in the kitchen while Harry stayed around the stove, cooking.
"Hope you don't mind her joining us, Peter."
Peter feels a pit in his stomach surrounded by the both of you. Too many conflicting emotions swirling in the room for him.
"No problem," he waves his hand. "Only gives me more of a chance to learn about my best friend's girlfriend."
You giggle and give Harry a look only you two understand. Peter looks confused.
"What? I thought you two were... but you said...?"
"Harry and I aren't exactly dating, Peter."
God, his name sounded like heaven coming off your lips. So much so he almost didn't render what you'd said.
"Oh," was all he could allow out without sounding too excited.
"We just enjoy each other's company," you smile.
"And if one of us finds something more permanent, no one's hurt," Harry shrugs.
"Got it," Peter's heart skipped a beat.
So maybe he had a shot after all.
⡠﹞⚘﹝⠢
After brunch you and Peter ended up on the couch, chatting while Harry cleaned the dishes. He had insisted.
Peter had a question long held in his throat. One making his heart pound, no matter the fact that it was a simple question. It was still a question to you, nonetheless.
"So," Peter rubbed his hands on his jeans. "The thing about you and Harry...." God. It was such a simple question. Why couldn't he get it out?
You looked at him, smiling. His mind went blank. Any question he had was forgot.
"What about it?"
Peter scrambled to finish his question. "Uh, do you like it? Him?"
"Most of the time."
"Most of the time?"
"Yeah, it's just-" you pause yourself, finding the right words. "Because of our... arrangement, Harry only focuses on what he needs. Which, I can't complain too much, I do the same. But-" you twitch your mouth from side to side.
"But, I enjoy caring for my partner. And when my partner does the same."
Peter is taking mental notes. He nods his head, ignoring the ache in his crotch at details you give.
"Yeah, I get that."
"Right? And - I enjoy my time with Harry, but he really isn't the kind of man I prefer in bed."
Peter's heart races.
"What kind of man do you prefer?" He pushes.
"Well, Harry's very assertive. And I really like a man to let me do the work. Someone more submissive," Peter please get the hint. You pray.
"Oh." Peter, being as inexperienced as he could possibly be, was confused. He made a mental note to figure out what you were talking about.
You had known the moment you'd met Peter that he was the exact kind of man you needed. Sweet disposition seeping into every facet of him. He was everything you'd been craving for months, if not your whole life, really.
You study Peter, seeing him squirm slightly under your gaze. You scoot closer, pressing your thigh to his. Peter feels a tingle down his back at the warmth you spread to him.
You prop a hand on the back of the couch, toying with the hair at the nape of Peter's neck. He stiffens, then relaxes into your touch. "What do you think, Peter?"
He snaps from his daze. "Uh... about what?"
"Y'know... what would you prefer, with whoever you're with." God, I hope this isn't too forward.
"Oh," he's quiet. Too quiet. You wait with bated breath. "Well, I uh, actually don't know..."
"What do you mean you don't know? A man's gotta know what he likes!" You smile, moving your fingers along his scalp momentarily.
"I, well," Fuck, Peter, just spit it out. But really how is he supposed to tell the woman of his dreams, best friend's girl, the most amazing person he's ever met; that he's never done anything more than kiss a woman? And it wasn't more than a peck at that.
You wait, staring at him with wide eyes. You hope he feels the same as you. About a lot of things, really. But especially this.
"I wouldn't really know. Because," he takes a breath, eyes anywhere but you. "I've never really done anything to be able to learn what I like."
You smile. Not a malicious nor mocking smile, but a genuine, heartfelt, earnest smile. "Peter," it almost sounds chastising. "You don't need to do anything with anyone else to know. You just need to know what turns you on the most."
"Hm?" Peter's lips are pressed tight as he moves his honeyed-brown eyes back to yours.
"What can you think about, or watch, that gets you off the quickest?" You let your nails lightly drag across the back of Peter's neck, watching as he shivers from your touch.
He shifts uncomfortably, feeling your eyes on him. How the hell did he get himself in this situation? Beginnings of a hard-on in his pants, your fingers dancing on his skin, and mind a mess of any thoughts other than the one he needs to be having.
Peter never really watches porn. He's heard of it, of course. He's seen the memes about the websites, screenshots of funny faces - but when he's alone with himself, he usually just closes his eyes and waits for it to be over. How does he tell a woman like you that? Without sounding like the weirdest person ever?
"I, uh... don't know..."
You huff a laugh through your nose. "Well if you ever figure it out, I'm curious to know what gets a cute boy like you off," you smile and stand, ruffing Peter's hair as you walk towards the kitchen.
'She called me cute. She wants to know what gets me off. Maybe I have way more of a shot than I thought.'
⡠﹞⚘﹝⠢
Later that night, Peter rested against the headboard of his bed. He stared at the search bar on his phone, a familiar orange and black logo in the top corner.
Peter wracked his brain, trying to figure out what to look up to understand what you meant.
And I really like a man to let me do the work. Someone more submissive.
Peter sighs, typing 'submissive man' and holding his breath as he hits enter.
The videos the boy is left to find stir something deep in his stomach. The leashes, the ropes, the positions, the words.
It's not long before Peter's hand makes its way into his pants. He's pumping himself breathlessly, struggling to keep his phone steady. He's imagining you. You doing exactly to him what they're doing in the videos.
God, it's perverse. It's depraved and even a little bit carnal. It doesn't take long for beads of white ejaculate to roll onto Peter's hand. He trembles and whines.
Shame washes over Peter like a hot wave upon the sand. Fuck. He's so stupid. So gross. Thinking of his best friend's girlfriend like this. Peter drops his phone beside him, rubbing his face with his undefiled hand
Technically they aren't really 'together'. Says the sanguine voice in the depths of Peter's mind. But wouldn't it still be weird? Obviously not to Peter if this is how he thinks of you in his spare time.
Regarding his thoughts of you; his mind dances back to before, imagining how your lips would feel on his neck, hand around his cock, whispering sweet praises and he begs you to let him cum. He's definitely hard again.
"Fuck," he whines. Peter's hand returns to his cock, throbbing in his fist. He bites down on his shirt collar to keep from whimpering too loud and begins to fuck into his hand again. This time more forceful than the last. He's squirming under your imagined touch, shaking as his mind races to fantasize about you holding him down, having your way with him.
And there he goes again, bursting at the seams with his desire for his best friend's girl.
⡠﹞⚘﹝⠢
Peter finds himself over at Harry's place more frequently than before. The lie he tells is that he hates being home. Not a complete lie, but not a complete truth either. The thought at the forefront of Peter's mind: how can I spend more time around her?
And it works. You and Harry believe him, though anything that keeps Peter around you won't look into too much. Harry makes or orders food, he stops asking Peter out to parties - inferring his best friend's aversion for them.
Sometimes, late at night, you and Harry talk about him.
"So what do you think of Peter?" He'll ask.
Your hand dances on Harry's chest, swirling circles and stars. "I think he's cute," you'll admit. "He's very sweet, and shy. It's endearing."
Harry will nod his head along. "I think he likes you," said nonchalant because it is. Harry always is. "Have you noticed?"
"Do you think so?" Risking sounding too eager is an irrelevance.
"Sweetheart, if you could see the way he looks at you, you wouldn't be questioning me right now."
You smile to yourself before pausing. "Would that be weird for you? Seeing your best friend with someone you've fucked?"
He smiles down at you. "If they looked at each other the way you two do, not at all. I'd wish them the best."
⡠﹞⚘﹝⠢
Somehow, you ended up with Peter's number. Somehow, you ended up texting him all night, every night. And somehow, neither of you minded.
Endless conversations about mindless nothings. Just getting to know each other. There were plenty of times where Peter would worry about Harry. He'd reassure himself that his best friend said he wouldn't care and either way, there was nothing going on between the two of you.
And then, you'd send a goodnight text with a kiss beside it. Or a good morning text with a pet name in it. And Peter's heart would flutter.
You often discussed school and home lives. That's how Peter found out that you attends MIT as well, and that you live in an apartment with a roommate who chews too loud but is otherwise fine. And, more importantly, how he found out that you don't spend as much time with Harry as Peter's past predicaments would make it seem.
This is how you find out Peter lives alone in a tiny apartment near the university, that he has a tendency to stress himself to death, and that he's more lonely than he seems.
Leading you to the text you'll send today.
I've heard rumors of an amazing coffee shop near your place. Wanna come with?
Sent at the perfect time for him to have just gotten home from his last class. You knew he needed a break, he was working himself too hard on one class alone.
Absolutely! Meet you there?
Peter's chest tingled and he responded. A date? No. But almost.
⡠﹞⚘﹝⠢
Peter made it to Mug & Meadow about four minutes before you, waiting by the door.
When you arrived, he held the door for you. Ever the gentleman.
A wave of warm air washes over you. The scent of espresso mingling with burnt vanilla. You step onto the dark wood floor, taking in your surroundings while Peter lets the door swing closed.
Dark, chocolate colored walls matching the wooden floors, except, around the counter has a black and white, diamond-tiled design. Arched windows across the front of the store. Warm lighting pieces scattered about the ceiling.
Light jazz dancing through hidden speakers, soft chatter melding with the beats. Wow. You smile and turn back to Peter, seeing him taking in the surroundings as well. He looks to you, smiling back.
After ordering, Peter tells you to find a seat while he waits on the drinks. You choose a two seated table off to the side. A window to one side and the rest of the store to the other. A nearby bookshelf calls your name.
Peter finds you with your nose off in a leather-bound collection of Robert Frost works. "This place is nice," he sets the cups down on the provided coasters.
You place the book down on the hardwood table, old wax sticking to your fingers ever-so-slightly.
"Yeah," you give your breathless response. "I love it."
"Already? But you just met it," Peter jokes.
"When you know, you know," you sip from your steaming cup. "Who says I don't believe in love at first sight?" You give Peter a knowing look.
He falters. "Uh, well, I was talking to the barista and he said this place is also a library. Which is super cool," He's redirecting.
"Really? That's awesome."
"Yeah, it's something to do with the fact that the owner is like a simi-famous author with the last name Meadow, hence the name," Peter waves a hand up, referring to the shop.
"We definitely have to come back here forever," You take another sip of your drink.
Already booking our next almost-date.
⡠﹞⚘﹝⠢
Peter's stomach swirled, heart beating fast. He was pacing around his living room. A small space, albeit well decorated thanks to May's input and Christmas presents from last year.
"When you have girls over, you'll thank me for helping," And here he is now, mentally thanking her.
You'd asked Peter when the three of you were hanging out at Harry's place last weekend if you could come over. Just you. No Harry this time. A simple question. 'I just wanna hang out with you," it was all you'd given as a reason and it was more than Peter needed to say yes to you.
He's started to say yes before you even explained, not needing a reason more than just seeing you. But the nerves from being alone with you had started to get to him.
Maybe I should've said no. What if she thinks im weird? Especially without the cover of Harry's coolness, Peter felt almost naked. He checked his phone as it chimed.
Google maps says I'm a block away!
Peter nearly chokes on his tongue. Shit, shit, fuck. Okay, how does everything look? There's no messes, no gross smells? Oh, god, how do I look? He ran back to the mirror in his bedroom, double checking his whole outfit.
A simple look. Jeans, sneakers, and a black hoodie layered with a red flannel over it to combat the mid-fall/early winter Massachusetts weather.
Peter brushed his dark curls into place with his fingers, tucking any loose hairs away. He cups a hand over his mouth, letting out hot breath. He brushed his not even five minutes ago, but let his anxiety get the better of him.
A knock on the door and the ding of his phone send his mind flying. Peter takes a deep breath and checks his phone as he walks to the door.
37D right? If so, I'm here!
He slips the phone into the pocket of his jeans and calms himself, reaching for the door handle. "Hey," he smiles wide, happy to see you despite his nerves.
"Hello," you smile back, nearly losing yourself in his warmth. Late November on a cloudy day indoors, and you feel you might get a sunburn. "I brought the takeout we talked about!" You shake the bag excitedly.
"Did you get the egg rolls? It's the only way I can grant you admittance into my abode, I fear."
"I have, although I'm sure you wouldn't leave a fair maiden out in the cold, would you?" You laugh.
"Never one so pretty," Peter steps to the side, guiding you into his apartment. He shuts the door behind you, offering to take your coat, hanging it on the rack beside his door.
"So what movies did you pick? Only the best I'm sure."
"What makes you say that? I could have a real shit taste in movies you know. What if I only watched the Shrek movies?"
"Oh no!" You giggle. "I gotta go."
So far, Peter feels like he's doing great. He's got you to laugh twice and the smile on your face has yet to falter.
You set the takeout on the coffee table and Peter helps you set everything up, begging you to let him do it because you're the guest. You insist on your help.
Within minutes; your laying with your legs over Peter's lap, throw blanket over your legs, plates of food in hand and the movie's starting.
"Can I know what movie this is?"
"Shh, it's starting," Peter squeezes your leg, spreading warmth throughout your body. "And no, it's a secret."
For the duration of the movie you find yourself scooting closer and closer to Peter. Eventually, both your hearts are pounding in your throats as Peter wraps his arm around you, pulling you tight against his side. You wrap your arm around Peter's waist.
He's trying not to breathe too quickly. Efforts fail when you bury your face in his neck, hot breath fanning across his skin. He stiffens slightly. You notice.
You glide your hand from where it rests around his waist to his thigh, rubbing lightly. Peter is trying his best to focus on the movie and definitely not the growing ache in his pants.
You nuzzle your nose below his jaw, purposely breathing against his neck again. Peter lets out a sigh, not a negative one, more so a breath he'd been keeping in. Perhaps for as long as he's known you.
Peter finds himself stretching his hips forward. More subconsciously than anything. You take the chance, heart in your throat, and slide your hand over Peter's crotch.
God, is this actually happening? Peter's mind is trying to find any way he could be misreading this. Oh, shit. You press your palm into Peter's lap.
He looks down at you, a new emotion in his eyes. You share the same look in yours. A beat of a moment passes and you're sending Peter's head reeling and you slowly move closer. Sharing breath and keeping his eyes locked with yours all the way up until you close your eyes and press your lips against his.
With a body full of confidence and a mind full of you, Peter kisses back. It's sweet and gentle like him, yet as needy and passionate as you. He hums and you melt at the sound.
You feel his bulge grow under your hand and you keep your movements soft. Earning whines from him kissed into your mouth. You hold his crotch tight and rub your thumb up and down. Peter huffs into you and pushes his hips against your hand. He's never experienced as much pleasure in his life as he has right now and yet, he finds himself nearly begging for more.
You oblige to his unspoken request and straddle his hips. The broken kiss causing a fleeting warmth between you. "And this is okay?" Your words are sincere and nearly concerned.
"Nothing has ever been more okay than this," Peter puts a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you to kiss him. You both smile.
You press your hips into him, earning the cutest whimper you've ever heard in your life. You grind yourself into Peter's growing bulge and he rests his head against the back of the couch, moaning loud.
The boy in front of you looks like a dream. Face flushed, dark ochre curls a mess, lips parted as his head lay back. You use the opening to kiss at his throat, leaving marks you know won't fade anytime soon.
With each rock of your hips Peter moans louder. Having never had a man as vocal as him, you drink up all he'll offer. You have that pretty bulge of his trapped right against your hips, exactly as you want him.
Your movements are getting faster, as are Peter's moans. Whimpers only increasing your need for him.
Peter can hardly stand it. He's gripping your hips about as tight as he can, trying to hold himself back but fuck the pressure feels so good, and you look so hot right now. Your kisses are sending chills down his spine.
He pulls you to kiss him on the mouth, needy and fervent. Your mouths move in unison, an unspoken rhythm known only to the two of you.
You grab his hair and pull his head back. "Fuck," he chokes, looking down at where your grinding against him.
You feel his cock twitch inside his pants, begging to be touched, pleading to be sucked off. You switch your pace to an even tempo with hard pushes and watch as Peter's eyes darken under you.
Peter grabs your hips tighter, and goes still. He lets out a low whine. You feel his hips jolt beneath you and you pause. His face is flushed a deep rose all the way to his neck.
You stare in disbelief. Peter hides his face in your neck, holding your body close. You look beneath you, seeing a dark spot form in Peter's jeans.
"Aw, baby," you pull his face from your neck, looking him in the eyes. "Don't be embarrassed, that's so fucking hot."
It's Peter's turn to hold the look of disbelief. "Really?" Every ounce of shame draining from his body by the look on your face alone.
"Absolutely. I've never made a man cum from so little before."
Peter's sigh of relief doesn't go unnoticed. You smile and kiss his cheek, loving and kind, same as him. You quickly kiss down his neck, making way towards his pants. You slide onto your knees on the floor between Peter's legs.
He's breathing fast again. Fingers restlessly fidgeting beside him. He's not sure he believes what's happening is real. There's no way you're between his knees right now, looking at him like that.
Peter holds a breath as your fingers move to the button on his pants. His zipper deafening in the surrounding silence. You press a kiss to the wet spot in Peter's boxers, looking him directly in the eyes as you do. You feel him twitch against your lips.
There's no way...
You gently pull him out of his underwear, shock evident in your eyes when you see he's hard again, cock covered in his own cum. Peter twitches at the contact, more sensitive than ever.
"Fuck, Pete... that's so hot."
Never in his life. Never did Peter believe he'd ever experience anything like this. To be honest, he'd convinced himself he'd die a virgin. Sad, true, but a reality to him all the same.
You slowly, teasingly, stroke Peter's length and watch as his hips shake. "F-f-fuck..." You run your thumb over the tip of his cock, biting your lip with anticipation.
You can't help yourself, can't stand it any longer. You wrap your mouth around the head of Peter's dick, the taste of his cum has you rolling your eyes back into your head. Peter whines and you take him in, all you can fit.
His strangled moans fill the room as you work him up. Peter can hardly breathe, swapping between looking at the ceiling and you.
The noises from you are lewd. That alone would have Peter finishing faster than ever if not for his sheer determination to experience this pleasure for as long as he can. That said, he's still not going to last long. You can tell.
You pull off of him with a pop, watching the mixture of cum and saliva flow down his shaft.
"Fuck, that was-- you're amazing," Peter's dopey smile stretches his cheeks.
"Just wait until you're inside me, Peter."
Peter chokes at the implication. His dick twitches on his lap. An aching boner growing once more.
He watches as You begin to undress yourself, slowly, in front of him. Taunting his erection with each piece of exposed skin. Your shirt is the first to go, immediately exposing your hardened nipples.
Peter's struggling to keep himself together.
You slip your jeans down your legs, giving Peter a show with each fabric gone.
Instinctually, Peter wraps a large hand around his aching, sensitive cock. He slowly pumps himself.
You grab his wrist, grip firm. "Did I say you could touch yourself?" You're completely naked, eyes stern as they look into Peter's.
"No..."
You raise an eyebrow, silently asking.
"No, ma'am," Peter is so unbelievably turned on right now.
"Good boy," you smile, releasing his wrist and kissing his cheek.
God.
You step close to Peter, grabbing his hand. "Feel how wet I am for you," Peter feels he might faint before even touching you. He presses a finger between your folds. Fuck, you're soaked. "That's what you do to me."
He looks up at you, pleading. He nearly whispers your name. "I need you."
Those words are all you need to plant your legs on either side of his hips. You reach between your bodies and wrap your hand around Peter's length. He moans. You glide his tip along your slit, soaking him in your arousal.
Peter violently grabs the arm of the couch, white-knuckling the fabric. You slide his cock inside you and you lower your hips. Moaning loud at the sensation of him filling you up. Peter's panting, staring between the two of you in disbelief.
No way this is actually happening right now. Fuck, she's so tight. So warm, so amazing...
You slowly begin to bounce on Peter's lap, loving the way his eyes and head roll back. "Fuck, Pete."
You place your hands on his shoulders, picking up a pace near intense. Your lips find his in a heated embrace. Moans slipping from both your mouths like a symphony of pleasure.
Your body squeezes around Peter's cock and he's brought to the edge all too quickly. You wrap a hand around his throat, squeezing the pulse points. He grabs your hips so tight you're sure you'll have marks left. You don't mind at all.
"God, you're so good. So, fucking, good. Please... don't stop," he's panting, out of breath and dizzy from pleasure. Peter never believed this would be his first time. Not with you. Not like this. Not this amazing. It's the most euphoric sensation he's ever felt in his whole life.
"I want you to cum inside me, Pete, please," your voice is pleading, needy.
"But--"
"--I'm on the pill. Peter. Please. Cum inside me."
Never needing to be told more than twice; Peter pulls your hips down against his own, holding you hard against him. He cums deep inside you, shaky whine echoing throughout the apartment.
He rests his head against your chest, huffing. You tangle your fingers into the hair on the back of his head. He kisses between your breasts, slowly moving to your neck. "Fuck, you're amazing," Peter pants between kisses to your hot skin.
You hum, kissing the top of his head. "I take it you enjoyed your first time?"
Peter's head snaps back up to you. "How did you--"
"--Peter..." Please don't make me tell you how obvious it is. He turns red, hiding his face in your neck.
"God, that's so embarrassing."
"Not at all, it's actually really hot."
"Really?" His eyes shine beneath you.
"I've always wanted to be someone's first. And the fact that it was you, Peter...."
Peter kisses at your chest again, moving to leave matching marks to his own on your neck. You let out a small, yet heavenly, moan. When he feels the way your body squeezes around his, he whines and presses an embarrassed face into your neck. His arms wrapping tightly around you.
You feel him harden inside you, gasping. "Peter."
This is going to be an amazingly long night.
i will most definitely be reusing that coffee shop description in future fics - i love it!
very proud of this one - please remember likes are appreciated but comments and reblogs mean the most <3
summary: teasing peter parker while he's patrollingggggg
wc: ~1k
cw: MDNI!! heavy teasing, f!masturbation, kinda baiting dom!peter out at the end
an: this is a day behind, i apologize, but a bitch is getting married in like 12 hours!!! find yourself a peter parker fr fr!!
peter landed gracefully on top of the empire state, completing his fifth round of the neighborhood that night. crime was much slower than usual, as in the last four hours, he'd only stopped one mugging and an atm robbery. hell, with the amount of directions peter had been giving out tonight, he was convinced the city should've been paying him directly.
he pulled his phone out of his suit to see that it had just reached midnight, a sigh falling from his lips as he fought off the temptation to call it a night early. most nights, peter was out until the early hours of the morning. most nights, however, someone was trying to blow up new york.
his thoughts and the distorted music through his earbuds were interrupted by a familiar ringtone, and a smile fell over peter's face.
"hey bug, what are you still doing awake? i thought i left you hours ago tired and all studied out?"
peter could hear you chuckle on the other end of the phone, and suddenly, his night didn't feel so boring.
"just thinking about you, i guess. how's patrol going?"
a heavy sigh was given in response. "so far, this has been the longest conversation of the evening. i haven't seen a night this calm in months."
you hummed on the other end of the line, "bored?"
"like you couldn't believe," peter chuckled. "i just wish i were home with you, y'know? there's no one to even be a 'friendly neighborhood spider-man' to out here right now. the neighborhood's asleep!"
there was a brief pause before your response that peter picked up on, but couldn't piece together. "what would you do if you were here with me?"
your tone shifted ever so slightly, breathy and quieter than before. the question got peter's mind racing back through all the things he'd thought about doing with you while out on patrol. though, should he say... doing to you. but he wasn't about to admit to what had been distracting him while out protecting the city, so he ignored the strain in his suit as he crafted his response.
"y-y'know... anything. getting sore from sittin' on all this concrete," he says with a shy laugh, and you don't have to see him to know he's blushing and scratching at the back of his neck.
"mmmm, poor thing. i think it'd do some good if we got you out of that suit, y'think?"
we. if we got you out of it.
jesus christ, peter. please keep it in the suit.
"y-yeah, that'd sure be... great."
the line was silent for a moment, peter giving you the chance to move on and for him to get his mind out of the gutter. he nearly lost his footing from where he was pacing along the edge of the roof at your next words.
"do you want to know what i'm wearing, pete?"
he caught his balance, staring in disbelief at the city down below him as your sultry tone threatened to pull him over. "w-what?"
"nothing."
peter couldn't help but groan in response, lifting the mask over his mouth to catch his breath. he looked around frantically, ensuring the roof was empty before he dared to whisper your name into his phone.
"what are you doing, bug? you know i'm on patrol."
"i know." you sounded so certain, and it drove peter further insane.
he was quickly growing painfully hard, his bulge prominent through the thin spandex of the suit. peter muttered a string of curse words as he reached down to palm himself, a hiss escaping his lips as he twitched against the feeling.
"f-fuck, baby. c'mon, this isn't fair." peter couldn't help but let his words trail to a whine as he heard you touching yourself on the other end, words turning into a plea.
there was no fixing this himself, and definitely not out here. he knew that, and he knew you knew that too. peter would have no choice but to come home now that you'd gotten him going this much, and he's beginning to sense that may have been your intention the entire time.
fuck.
"y-you did this on purpose, didn't you? wanted to get me all riled up so i'd have no choice but to come home?" he heard your gasp and knew he was exactly where you wanted him. peter couldn't help but smirk, knowing there was no other place he wanted to be anyway.
"how do you want me to touch myself while i wait for you, peter?" your voice was sultry and prideful, knowing you'd successfully trapped him.
"should i prep myself for you?" there was a bit of shuffling on the other end, and then peter could hear just how fucking wet you were. "you are coming home, aren't you?"
fuck it.
"okay, bug. you'll get what you want," peter tucked his phone into his suit before aiming for the nearest building in your direction.
"but when you're screaming my name and telling me it's too much?" he launched off the roof, free-falling as he felt a hunger take over him. "don't forget it's exactly what you asked for."
summary: reader storms into peter's apartment, upset over her last tinder date being a complete tool and refusing to eat her out. peter gets a little... distracted.
wc: ~2.1k
cw: ! MDNI ! not full smut, but descriptions of peter being hard, talking about oral (fem!receiving), dry humping, hints of peter being an absoulte munch, swearing, peter getting so embarassed he makes half-jokes to himself about suicide, friends to lovers sexual tension babyyyyyyyyyy
masterlist and taglist!
he didn't mean it. honestly.
in fact, there's nothing peter wanted more in this moment than not to be painfully hard. but here he was, and he didn't know what the fuck to do.
you had let yourself into his apartment with your spare, angrily marching down his hallway already yelling, up in arms about your latest shitty tinder hook up. his bedroom door slammed open, causing him to jump from where he was working at his desk. he looked to you with wide eyes as you continued the rant you'd started upon entering the threshold of his apartment.
"i mean, seriously? i give you the best head of your life, and you return with saying how 'disgusting' going down on me would be? and then you have the audacity to get mad at me when i don't want to fuck you? what the fuck is wrong with the men of new york?!"
you threw yourself down on his bed, frustrated sighs wracking through your chest as you attempted to calm yourself down, hands rough in your hair. peter stared back with bewilderment, and unfortunately, upon the thought of eating you out, an insane hard-on.
it's not like you hadn't talked about sex in the past five years of knowing peter, the two of you told each other everything. peter had just never seen you so... vulgar about it. so frustrated. he knew he needed to come up with a response — hell, he should've a solid thirty seconds ago — but he was currently willing his blood to stay in the upper half of his body, failing miserably as he couldn't fight off images of you spread for him out of his mind.
"what do you think, pete?" your voice snapped him back to earth.
"w-what?"
you gave a shrug, staring down at your lap and thankfully not seeing peter adjust himself and bring a sweatshirt into his own lap.
"i dunno, maybe i'm being the crazy one here. is it so bad to want head in return?" you stared at him expectantly, like you hadn't just asked him the most insane question he'd ever heard.
he shook his head a little too quickly, mentally cringing at how awkward he was being. parker, pull your shit together!
"no," he responded honestly. "i don't think you're being crazy." i think he's crazy for not wanting to.
you gave another heavy sigh, this time your turn to shake your head. "this is the third guy in a row who was appalled i even dare to bring it up. isn't that fucking crazy?"
peter nodded as though he was in a trance, eyes glossy as he stared at you. his reply fell to a whisper, not trusting the pitch of his own voice right now. "fucking crazy."
he held your gaze for a while as you sat in a comfortable silence. maybe for you, peter, however, was looking for any possible exit strategy that could come his way. his mind was going a million miles per hour, rushing thoughts of having you under him keeping him twitching against his sweatpants. he shifted in his seat, a lapse of judgment on peter's end as the sweatshirt in his lap moved against his groin, a sharp exhale falling from his gaped lips as he did everything in his power to hold back a moan.
if you noticed, you didn't let him know, giving him a soft smile as you stood from his bed to walk closer, gaze now heavy on the physics notes sprawled on the desk. you leaned over his shoulder, a hand on the back of his chair to stabilize yourself as you peered down.
"i'm sorry for complaining about my trashy sex life, this looks a thousand times more important. jesus, what even is all this?"
you leaned down further, your chest now brushing against his shoulder blade as you skimmed the papers, breath hot against his ear. normally, your proximity was no issue for peter — you've been best friends for years, touch wasn't foreign. but with his current circumstances, your touch against him was sending his senses into overdrive, and he was going to combust.
"j-just... physics... i-i guess." he stuttered, not daring to move his head a millimeter as your cheek nearly grazed his own.
you gave a gentle chuckle, the sound earning a groan deep in peter's throat before he knew to stop it. "yeah, i could figure out that much, parker. what's up with you? you're being weird."
you pull back slightly to adjust, immediately turning around to sit on peter's knee. again, it was something you'd done hundreds of times before with no other thoughts or implications, but with the sinful chains around his thoughts right now, it only threw him off more. you went to grab the sweatshirt in his lap, hoping to shift onto him more comfortably. he immediately grabbed your hand to stop you.
"no! i-i mean, i'm fine. i'm not being weird." he let go of your hand, crossing his arms and giving you a shrug, his best attempt at coming off nonchalant. his best wasn't good enough.
"yeah right, peter. what's your prob-" while speaking, you had grabbed for the sweatshirt quicker this time, using the momentum to immediately swing your leg over both his thighs to sit in his lap properly. you sat down fully, cheeks instantly flushing pink, "oh."
there were many times in his life when peter thought about ending it all, but none as much as now. he was going to have to either move countries, or jump from the empire state without his web shooters. those were the only two options circling his head as his wide eyes met yours, a red tint taking over his entire upper body.
"i'm so sorry, h-holy shit," he breathed out, grabbing at your hips to lift you off of him so he could get out of here as quickly as possible. you resisted him, though, doing what you could to fight against him and stay firmly planted on his lap. that made him panic even more. because, of course. he wasn't going to have time to kill himself. you were going to kill him first.
"i-i tried to, i don't... i'm so sorry."
you put your hands on his chest, a genuine look of bewilderment splayed across your features. "is that... is this because of me? what i was talking about?"
not only were you going to kill him, you were going to torment him about it first. and he knew he deserved it.
"pete—"
"i'm so sorry, please let me go, i didn't, i—"
"pete, listen to me."
"this is so embarrassing, i really didn't mean to—"
"peter," you let out his name in a voice he hadn't heard before, something torn between a growl and a moan — all while dragging your hips up against him. he gave a shaky exhale at the pressure, the feeling of you rutting against his cock stopping his guilty rambling.
you found his gaze, his pupils blown and irises dark, a direct correlation to the twitching of his cock as you gave him another soft roll of your hips. his hands found your hips again, holding you firmly in place to stop the teasing movement. his brows knit together, geunine confusion plastered across his face.
"what... what are you doing?" he was breathless, chest heaving as he stared back at you. you hesitantly reached a hand to his hair, palm splaying out on his scalp as your thumb traced circles on his temple. even in his worst possible moments, you were there to calm him down. he had absolutely no idea why you weren't yelling at him, or what you were even still doing here, but he wasn't going to fight it. he melted into your touch, and his breathing hitched as you leaned in closer.
"have you always felt this way?" you whispered, breath against his cheeks sending goosebumps across his body.
"felt... what?" he tried to play dumb, despite the fact that you could also feel how excruciatingly hard he was against you. when he daydreamed about confessing he was in love with you, this was never a scenario in his head.
you let your hand graze slowly down the side of his face, fingers coming to trace his sculpted jawline. his breath didn't just hitch at this point, he was pretty sure his lungs stopped working entirely.
"why haven't you ever said anything?" it wasn't angry, it was a genuine question.
he let out a scoff, a hand leaving your hip to scratch the back of his neck, embarrassment covering his features for the hundredth time this evening. "yeah, well. this isn't exactly how you want to tell your best friend you love her."
your eyes widened, and peter's followed, realization of his words hitting him.
"you love me?"
"holy shit, that's, i didn't, oh my god that's—"
peter's panic was cut off and replaced with awe as he felt your lips crash against his, a feeling he'd been dreaming of since the day he'd met you back in high school. he immediately reciprocated, tilting his head to deepen the kiss and letting a long overdue moan escape from his lips. you smiled against it, both hands interlocking with those brown curls you'd been dying to run your hands through, just like this.
peter nipped at your bottom lip, earning a sharp gasp from you that allowed his tongue much-needed entry into your mouth. the kiss was nothing short of hungry, years of pent-up feelings being released hot and noisily as peter bruised his lips against yours.
he pulled back sharply, out of breath and looking at you as though you weren't real. "wait, i dont... you...?"
you laughed at the lack of his question, though instantly understanding him. you gave a soft nod, a blush creeping over your cheeks as you brought your hands to cup his face. while the kiss was downright sinful, the way you looked at him filled him with nothing but reverence.
"every shitty tinder date happened after i chickened out of telling you how i felt. i just couldn't stand to lose you, peter." you added sadly.
he gave you a knowing look, nodding in agreement. "i know what you mean," he squeezed your hips, a contagious smirk controlling his lips. "wait, you've been going on shitty tinder dates since we moved out for college three years ago."
you returned the smirk, fingers trailing down to ghost the tendons in his neck. "i know."
peter pulled you in again, no longer embarrassed at the desperate noises escaping his throat as he attacked your lips, this kiss somehow hungrier than the last. you grinded down against him again, a raspy "fuck" leaving his swollen lips as he held a firm grip on your hips to keep you moving.
you chuckled at his desperation.
"you're telling me i could've been doing this the whole time instead of shitty jocks thinking its gross to make a woman feel good?" you sighed out as he trailed down your neck, teeth nipping and bruising your soft flesh as he continued to move against your hips, leaving you to soak up the feeling out how hard he was underneath you.
peter groaned in frustration, standing quickly with you still wrapped around his hips. he held you with one arm as though you weighed nothing, lips still attached to the pulse point in your neck. he used the other to catch himself as he threw you down onto his bed. you gasped, your back hitting the soft mattress as you took in peter's frame over you, hands on either side of your head.
he pulled back from his artwork on your neck, his jaw clenched. "i can't believe anyone could ever tell you such nonsense,"
he leaned down again to peck at your lips, hands making their way down to explore your sides. "i can't tell you what an honor it is to even think about how good you taste," he growled in your ear.
you gave a gasp, his words alone enough to have your cunt aching, as if you hadn't been since the second you sat down on his lap. "you... you think about that?"
he let out a chuckle as he sat back, his hands teasingly making their way to the button of your jeans. he ran his fingers under your waistline as his other hand tugged at your zipper, the feeling of your muscles tensing under his touch driving him absolutely crazy.
"more times than you could torture out of me," he pulled your jeans down, nearly finishing in his sweats at the sight of the delicate lace underwear against your burning skin.
“ BETTER FIND A MOP, IT’S GETTIN’ STICKY IN THIS BITCH ” — peter parker.
MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
NOTES: marvel rivals chad peter parker w yuri lowenthal’s legendary voice. a recipe for success. also this wouldn't be possible without this anon.
WARNINGS: fem reader ノ established relationship ノ dirty talk ノ explicit sexual content ノ p in v ノ finger sucking ノ biting ノ long cock peter agenda ノ suit + mask sex but mask comes off halfway thru so you can see his pretty face <3
“Yeah? Mmph—you like that—hm—baby?” PETER PARKER speaks between his sheathes, evidently getting lost in the feeling of you wrapped around him. So much so that dirty talk for this silver tongue is interrupted by his own unfocus. It blurs in and out from the overload of sensation between his legs. You can’t respond, brows furrowing as he wetly slithers in and out of you, the head of him brushing that spongy spot inside you every time he bottoms out.
You try your best, murmuring a weak yet eager, “Mhm, mhm,” Nodding your head even while his fingers are hooked on your lower jaw over your chin.
“Couldn’t wait, huh?” Peter asks rhetorically, a slight snicker sprinkled in as he watches you with as much awe as a mask can have. “Was like I was ambushed.” he muses, reminiscing over his entrance met with such welcoming open legs. His cock bucks in at the memory, and you cry out through your occupied mouth. The knuckles between your teeth get a squeeze, a nip, and he releases a burst of air. “Trying to bite me, honey?” The tone conveys a sense of disbelief but it’s pleasantly surprised, and his pace quickens. Choked moans shoot out of you as he fucks into you, his body weight pinning you down while your suspended legs bob from the movement. Your lips enclose apologetically over his gloved fingers, the wet felt fabric is foreign against your tongue when you circle around them. In a bout of curiosity, your tip traces the embossed texture of the web design around his knuckle, maintaining eye contact with his mask while you do it.
Your cheeks hollow out, sucking on his two fingers and he groans from low in his throat. It’s the kind of purr that sends a shudder down your spine, eyes rolling back as he slots in your lulling body. The sheer length of him causes an ache inside your core that arches your back, clutching onto the sheets for purchase as you brace the sharp pain for the brain-melting feeling of pulling out only to fuck back in. His other hand comes to hook under the hem of his mask, peeling it off of him, and his brown hair explodes out in an endearing mess. You can finally see that crooked grin.
He pivots your head for you by your mouth, resting his wrist on the mattress to hover over you properly. Faithfully, you keep those fingers in, and he rewards you by shoving them in deeper, the tips of them making you lurch with a gag. Once again, he reacts audibly in euphoric relief like he was waiting for you to do that. “Baby.” he says in that voice, and it’s like a prize. You erupt in full-body tingles, curling your toes as he openly mouths at your neck. The pad of his tongue flattens against your pulse point, and ends it in a hard bite, scraping his teeth against your skin. You keen, that coil in your belly going taut.
Drool seeps out of the corner of your mouth while you desperately suck his spit-soaked glove, pitiful whimperings spilling out of you while he fucks you into the mattress.
˗ˏˋ You decided to take a break from your day and play a online game with your friends, but before you can even start, it's impossible to concentrate when your boyfriend, Peter Parker, is being so distracting. He offers to let you sit on his lap while you play, not realizing his intentions aren't nearly as innocent as he pretends they are.
──── .✦
Very explicit & detailed. | A/N: Posting back to back since I just posted a story about someone that wasn’t in the marvel universe! Also Peter is aged up to 22 in this, and you’re 21. | WC: 2,187
(Sauntering definition: walk in a slow, relaxed manner, without hurry or effort:)
✮⋆˙
The hum of your gaming PC filled the room, the monitor's glow casting a soft light over your desk. You adjusted your bonnet, pulling it down a little as you settled into the chair, your boyfriend’s oversized shirt billowing around your thighs.
Peter—your Peter—leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, that infuriating smirk playing on his lips. He was wearing a plain white wife beater and grey sweatpants, the fabric clinging to his muscular frame in a way that made your breath hitch. His thighs—God, his thighs—were on full display, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip as your eyes lingered on them.
“You sure you’re not just stalling so you can keep staring at me?” he teased, his voice low and amused.
You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks flushed. “I’m not stalling. I’m warming up.” You gestured to the screen where your character stood idle in the game lobby, your friends already chiming in over the headset. “Besides, if you’re just going to stand there and look all… that, then maybe you should leave me alone.”
Peter chuckled, pushing off the doorframe and sauntering toward you. Sauntering. Because of course, he did. He rested his hands on the back of your chair, leaning down until his breath ghosted over your ear. “You’re the one who couldn’t stop talking about my thighs this morning,” he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “Now you’re kicking me out?”
You swallowed hard, trying to focus on the screen. “I’m trying to play a game, Peter.”
He hummed, his lips brushing against your neck.
“I’ve got a better game for you.”
Before you could protest, his hands were on your waist, lifting you effortlessly out of the chair. You let out a small yelp, your hands flying to his shoulders as he settled into the seat and pulled you onto his lap. The heat of his body seeped through the thin fabric of your shirt, and you could already feel his arousal pressing against you.
“Peter,” you hissed, glancing at the monitor where your friends were still chatting, oblivious.
“I’m live. They can hear me.”
“Then don’t make too much noise,” he said, his voice dripping with mischief. His hands slid down to your hips, pulling you closer until you could feel the hard length of him against your bare core. “Just sit on my lap while you play. I promise I won’t move.”
You shot him a skeptical look, but the way his pupils were dilated, the way his breath hitched as you shifted slightly—God, you didn’t stand a chance. “Fine,” you muttered, reaching for the keyboard. “But if you ruin my game, I’m kicking you out for real.”
He grinned, his hands resting lightly on your thighs. “Deal.”
You unmuted your mic, trying to ignore the way Peter’s warmth felt against you. “Sorry, guys. Had to adjust something,” you said, your voice steady despite the flush creeping up your neck.
“You good?” one of your friends asked.
“Yeah, all good,” you replied, focusing on the screen. For a moment, it almost worked. You were able to push Peter’s presence to the back of your mind—until his hands started to wander. His fingers traced slow, teasing patterns up your thighs, and you could feel him growing harder beneath you.
“Peter,” you whispered, your voice tight. “You promised.”
“I’m not moving,” he said innocently, though the smirk in his voice betrayed him. His hands slid under the hem of your shirt, brushing against your bare skin.
You bit your lip, trying to concentrate on the game, but it was impossible with his fingers inching closer to where you wanted them most.
You quickly muted your mic, turning to glare at him. “You said you wouldn’t move.”
“Technically, I said I wouldn’t move,” he said, his hands cupping your ass. “You can move if you want.”
You groaned, your head falling back against his shoulder. “This is not fair.”
“Life’s not fair,” he said, his lips trailing along your neck. His hips shifted slightly, and you couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped your lips.
“But I can be generous.”
You shivered as one of his hands slid between your legs, his fingers parting your folds with practiced ease. “Peter—” you started, but your voice broke off into a moan as his fingers found your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles.
“Shh,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re still muted, right?”
You nodded, though you could barely think straight. His fingers moved with a precision that left you breathless, your hips rocking against his hand as you tried to stifle your moans.
“Good,” he said, his voice dark with desire. His other hand moved to grip your hip, guiding you to grind against him. “But I think we can make this more fun.”
Before you could protest, he unmuted your mic, his fingers still working their magic. “What’s the plan, team?” you asked, your voice trembling as you tried to focus on the game.
“Are you okay?” one of your friends asked, her voice laced with concern. “You sound… off.”
“I’m fine,” you said quickly, though your voice hitched as Peter’s fingers pushed inside you, curling in just the right way.
“Just—uh—got a cramp.”
Peter chuckled softly, his lips brushing against your neck. “Cramp, huh?” he whispered, his fingers increasing their pace.
You bit your lip, trying to keep your breathing steady. “Yeah, just—need to stretch.”
“Well, hurry up,” another friend chimed in. “We’ve got a raid to finish.”
“On it,” you said, though your vision was starting to blur as Peter’s fingers worked you closer and closer to the edge.
“You’re doing so good,” he murmured, his voice thick with praise. “But I think you can take more.”
You barely had time to process his words before he was lifting you slightly, his free hand pulling his sweatpants down just enough to free his cock. He positioned you over him, the tip brushing against your slick entrance.
“Peter,” you gasped, your hands gripping the edge of the desk. “You’re going to get us caught.”
“Then don’t make it obvious,” he said, his voice low and commanding. He lowered you onto him slowly, inch by agonizing inch, until you were seated fully in his lap.
You whimpered, your head falling back against his shoulder. “Fuck.”
“That’s the plan,” he said, his hands gripping your hips. He started to rock you against him, the pace slow and deliberate, but enough to make your toes curl. “But let’s see how quiet you can be.”
You muffled a moan against your hand, trying to focus on the screen where your friends were still strategizing. But it was impossible—the way he filled you, the way his hands held you in place, the way his breath hitched every time you clenched around him—it was all too much.
“You’re doing so good,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire. “But I think we can push you a little more.”
He increased the pace, his hips meeting yours with a force that left you breathless. You quickly muted your mic again, unable to hold back the moan that escaped your lips.
“Peter,” you gasped, your hands gripping the desk for support.
“You’re going to make me—”
“Go ahead pretty,” he growled, his hands tightening on your hips. “Come for me, baby. Let me feel you.”
You couldn’t hold back anymore—the tension coiled in your core snapped, and you came with a muffled cry, your body shuddering against his. He followed soon after, his hips stuttering as he filled you, his breath hot against your neck.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was your ragged breathing. Then, Peter unmuted your mic, his voice calm and steady. “You good, mama?”
You shot him a glare, though your legs were still trembling. “Yeah,” you said, your voice surprisingly steady. “Just… stretching.”
Peter’s hands slide up your thighs, his grip firm as he lifts you off his lap with ease. The sudden shift leaves you momentarily disoriented, but before you can protest, he leans you forward over the desk, your palms pressing into the cool surface. The game is still running, and the chatter of your friends faints through the headset, but your focus is entirely on him.
“Shh,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear as he moves behind you. The sound of his sweatpants sliding down to his ankles sends a shiver through you. His hands grip your hips, adjusting your position until your left leg is propped up on the desk, giving him better access. He could see how his cum was slowly dripping out of you. Making him ‘Tsk’ at the sight.
The position is vulnerable, exposing, and intensely arousing.
His hand comes down on your ass in a sharp slap, the sound louder than you expected. You gasp, your body jerking forward, but his other hand holds you in place. “Peter—” you start, but he cuts you off with another slap, the sting making your breath hitch.
“Quiet,” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding. His cock slides between your thigh, already hard and demanding. “Let’s see how quiet you can be now. And this time, you can’t mute the mic. Let them hear you moan.”
Your heart races as he positions himself, the head of his cock teasing your entrance. You glance at the screen, where your friends’ avatars are moving around, oblivious to what’s happening. Your mic is still unmuted, and the thought of them hearing you—really hearing you—sends a jolt of both fear and excitement through you.
Peter doesn’t give you time to adjust. He pushes into you in one smooth, unrelenting motion, filling you completely. You bite your lip to stifle a moan, but it slips out anyway, a soft, breathy sound that makes his grip on your hips tighten.
“That’s it,” he growls, his voice rough with need.
He pulls back almost all the way before thrusting into you again, the force of it making your arms tremble. “Let them hear. Let them know who’s making you feel this good.”
You try to stay quiet, but it’s impossible. Every thrust wrings another sound from you, a mix of moans and whimpers that you can’t suppress.
Your friends’ voices chatter in the background, oblivious, but you can’t focus on the game anymore. All you can focus on is Peter, his cock pounding into you, his hands gripping your hips like he’s afraid you’ll pull away.
“Peter—” you gasp, your voice trembling.
“Say my name again,” he demands, his pace relentless. “Louder.”
“Peter,” you moan, your voice breaking as he hits a spot that makes your legs shake. You can hear it faintly through the headset, your moan carrying over the mic, and you freeze for a moment, wondering if your friends heard.
But Peter doesn’t stop. If anything, he seems more determined, his thrusts growing harder, faster. “Again,” he growls, his hand sliding around to rub your clit in tight, rhythmic circles. “Let them hear you.”
“Peter!” you cry out, your voice louder this time, and you can’t bring yourself to care if your friends hear. The pleasure is too much, too intense, and you’re teetering on the edge of another orgasm.
His name spills from your lips over and over as he fucks you, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. His fingers circle your clit faster, matching the rhythm of his hips, and you can feel the tension building, coiling tighter and tighter until it snaps.
You come with a cry, your body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. Peter groans, his hips stuttering as he follows you over the edge, his cock pulsing inside you as he fills you with his release.
For a moment, the only sound in the room is your labored breathing and the faint chatter of your friends through the headset. Then, Peter leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. “Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction.
You’re still catching your breath when one of your friends speaks up, her voice concerned.
“Hey, you okay? You’re being really quiet.”
Peter smirks, his hands still on your hips. “Answer her,” he whispers, his voice teasing.
You hesitate, your cheeks burning, but you can’t bring yourself to lie. “Yeah,” you manage, your voice shaky but steady enough. “Just… got distracted for a second.”
Peter chuckles softly, his hands sliding up your sides.
You took your left leg off the desk, now standing in front of your monitors. He took a couple of wet wipes out of your desk drawer to clean you up.
“Distracted, huh?” he murmurs, his tone playful.
You look behind you, and he's silently laughing at your 'plain excuses.'
"Shh," he hushes you with a sly grin. "You can lock in now."
He starts rubbing your bare ass gently, his touch sending chills down your spine. Softly, he kisses your skin, his lips leaving a trail of desire in their wake.
Then, in a voice that's both tender and teasing, he whispers, "God, I love you."
⋆˙⟡
OH LA LA LAAAAA😝😝 I loved writing this so much I could SCREAM!! I hope you all are doing well and enjoyed it!
cw: MDNI!! dubcon (bc there's an aphrodisiac involved), oral (f!receiving), fingering, lots of dirty talk, unprotected p in v, mating press, creampie, multiple orgasms, friends to lovers!!, HUNGRY peter
masterlist, taglist, and kinktober 2025 masterlist!
you weren't sure when it became a habit to sneak into the chemistry building after hours with peter to help him work on his web fluid; all you knew was it was your turn to pay for the pizza.
it was nearing midnight as your full belly laughs echoed through the empty lab, crusts long forgotten on the table behind you, as you lost yourself in a story. peter's smile was visible through prickling tears.
he knew it was a bad idea to invite you from the start — there was no shot in hell he'd get any work done as long as you were around him. peter had figured that out by the senior year of high school: he just couldn't seem to focus on anything other than you. he began to lie and say he was finished with his homework whenever you would hang out, covering his lack of progress in your presence.
peter had been distracted by you for the last few years, yet he could never seem to resist your company anyway. he beamed as you laughed at your own joke, relishing in the alone time he got to spend with the one person who made him feel like himself.
you let out a snort, and peter was done for, tears in his own eyes as he joined you in hearty laughter. he reached down and grabbed a vial through blurry vision, adding the final touch to his web fluid 3.0.
except that, instead of a sticky web-like substance, peter was met with a bright flash of hot pink from the liquid in the beaker before a cloud of magenta powder exploded from the glass, dusting the room, and in turn, you and peter.
he was on you instantly, shielding you from the flying shards of glass before the beaker even burst, though the aerosol impact was inevitable. the reaction was quick to hit your lungs, dragging out hoarse coughs, rough and heavy in your chest as you fought to regain a sense of your surroundings.
the headache was almost immediate as peter leaned down to say something, and you winced as you looked up at him.
"what?"
"are you okay? did you get cut at all?" peter frantically examined for any tears in your sweatshirt, checking your hands for any possible nicks.
"i'm okay, rea—woah," peter placed a hand on your jaw to inspect your face, and the touch activated something deep inside of you.
suddenly, you felt the hottest you'd ever been, and the headrush made you weak in the knees. your vision began to cloud, senses on overdrive as you felt an aching pain rising in your chest. meeting peter's gaze with panicked eyes, you began to really take in the state of the situation.
"peter, what did you just mix?"
"i-i don't know, i must've grabbed the wrong thing..." he trailed off as he turned to search through the drawers, but the movement stopped him dead in his tracks.
peter was instantly met with a rush of vertigo, the room spinning violently around him as he braced himself on the countertop. he felt like he did when he was first bitten: hypersensitive and overwhelmed. fuck, what did he mix?
amidst the rest of the world in his ears, peter picked up on the sound of your heartbeat and immediately knew something was wrong. really wrong. he took a moment to analyze you, everything moving in slow motion as he fought to figure out what the hell he mixed together, and where these symptoms were headed.
your current state didn't give him much comfort; peter quickly noticed how you were starting to sweat, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath, despite not having left your chair. your full-body flush made him wonder if he looked just as disheveled.
"are you feeling okay?" peter asked, heavy with concern and guilt.
you shook your head at him, words fighting to escape your trembling lips. "i-i don't know. i feel... warm. i don't know."
and then peter felt it. his cock twitched, and he realized for the first time how painfully hard he was. he looked down in horror, hoping you hadn't yet noticed in your own haze. peter quickly sat down again to cover the evidence, praying to any god who was listening that this wasn't happening.
while successful in his concealment, the slight friction in the movement of his pants was enough to elicit a groan from his throat; he hoped you didn't hear.
but you did. because each little noise he made, conscious or not, egged on every dirty fucking thought you were having right now. and about peter. in front of peter.
"maybe we should get some... some fresh air, or something," peter says weakly.
as you nodded in response and moved to get up, it became horribly apparent to peter that he had to stand up with you, and not only would you also know just how hard he was, but the friction alone might be enough to kill him.
and then he had a thought:
are you feeling this way too?
no, don't think like that. that's your best friend, and whatever's happening, clearly neither of you was in your right mind.
but peter had always felt this way about you. this time, it was just so physically painful for some reason. what the fuck was in that beaker?
he didn't have any more time for his mind to race, as you stood from your stool and he watched your knees buckle underneath you. peter rushed to stabilize you, grabbing your shoulders and keeping you steady. it was pointless, though. somehow, the feeling of peter's hand against you knocked your breath out, far worse than falling ever would've.
you had no idea what was going on, but it was getting harder and harder to think about anything other than peter (as if that wasn't the norm anyway, bffr). but this was heightened. this was all of your wildest desires pulled to the forefront of your mind in the middle of your ochem 403 lab at 11pm on a tuesday night.
what the fuck was going on with you?
you tried to shake off the way peter's touch relieved some of the haze clouding your brain, and tried to shake off the feeling that maybe he was also feeling this way. your thighs clenched at the thought — that peter was also thinking of every possible way to take you on this counter right now.
but this was your best friend, and you needed to get your shit together long enough to handle whatever this feeling was on your own.
"woah, are y'okay?" peter slurred, your body heat under his palms radiating down to the rest of his body and nearly sending him down as well.
"i... i don't know, i think..." you stuttered out, not trusting anything coming from your mouth right now. "i-i think i have to go, i'm, i'm not feeling well."
you turned to make a run for it, hoping to get out of peter's sight before you either passed out or pounced on him. he stopped you, though, grabbing your hand with a pleading "wait!" falling from his lips.
before you could stop it, a whimper escaped from your lips at his touch, and you went bright red in seconds, hand flying up to cover the unexpected noise.
peter didn't help as he stared at you with his mouth agape, pupils blown to shit. he looked fucked out beyond belief and you'd barely even touched.
you cleared your throat, hoping to get out as coherent and PG a sentence as you could. "peter i-i feel really weird. a-and, i think i'm freaking the fuck out."
knowing you were hurting as much as he was broke his heart, and peter struggled to put all his energy into focusing on you. "i know, it's okay, bug. just take some deep breaths, a-and let's try to make it outside, yeah?"
he tried to pull you, but your legs forgot how to work, and you were frozen where you were, breath quick as everything grew downright painful.
peter's breathing picked up as he heard you hyperventilating, panicking himself as he watched you crumble in front of you. he needed to find out what was in that vile, and fast.
but all he could fucking think about was being on his knees in between your thighs.
fuck.
"p-peter, please. please, i-i, i need your help. you have to make this stop."
"fuck— it'll be okay, i promise. i'll do whatever i need to get you better. i-i just..." he clamped his eyes shut, desperately trying to come up with a way to make an antidote of some kind without dying or ruining your friendship along the way.
"peter... i—"
"what?" he cut you off, concern heavy in his tone.
despite his ever-growing problem, peter reached out to cup your cheek, and though not an unnatural thing to do, it was one definitely influenced by a gravity drawing him towards the feeling of your skin on his.
you stared at his lust-blown eyes, wondering if yours looked the same. wondering if he felt the same.
peter spoke your name softly, his thumb grazing your cheek softly and lingering far too closely to your lips to not mean anything.
fuck it.
you grabbed his shirt and pulled him forward, nearly headbutting him in the process as you locked onto his lips, surprised when you felt him immediately reciprocate and tangle his hands in your hair. everything about the kiss was desperate, and the feeling of peter all over you was fucking radiant.
peter was nothing but a moaning mess against you, sloppy and wet against your lips as he pleaded your name as though each time he said it, it took away the pain in his chest. truthfully, it did.
peter pulled away to take a breath, and the lack of contact brought the sharp pain immediately back, earning a whine to fall from his lips. he shook it off, grabbing the sides of your face and doing his best to refocus.
"f-fuck, should we talk about this?" peter asked relectantly.
"i-i don't know. i don't know what's happening right now, pete. all i know is that i need you to touch me. anything, please. i'm sorry. just, please make it go away."
yeah, you could talk about it later.
"nonono, hey. im so sorry, baby, this is all my fault. i'll do whatever you need, i mean it. i'll make it better, i promise."
peter pulled you back into a hungry kiss, rough hands roaming your body in a way he'd never touched you before. the feeling of your curves under his palms was only something he'd dreamed of, and peter was insufferably hard as he pulled you into him further.
there was a nag in the back of his mind, something telling him to stop before you did something you'd regret. because there was no possible way he had you, his best friend, tangled in his arms and lips heavy on his own. and yeah, peter had been smitten with you since the day you met, but he was never going to do anything about it. you didn't feel that way about him, of course. right?
cause right now, you kinda did.
no! fuck! just the chemicals! this was a one-time thing, friends helping friends.
yeah, friends helping friends.
but the pretty little moans that came out of your mouth as peter trailed his way down your neck? those sounded awfully more than just friendly. and the way you whined as he moved his hands up your waist, palming your tits through your shirt as he growled for permission in your ear? peter was never going to be able to look you in the eyes after tonight.
but right now, he was entranced as you bunched his shirt fabric in your hands and begged for it off, pulling the material over his head and immediately attacking his firm chest with a series of hickeys. you shifted your hands down towards his waistband, tugging him by his belt loops as you left a wet, hot trail of kisses down his abs. peter couldn't help but cant his hips forward into you, absolutely fucking losing his mind.
his own hands made their way around your frame, trailing down to your ass and grabbing hard. you gasped at the feeling, then lost your breath fully as peter nipped at your ear and told you to jump. he caught your thighs, shifting to set you on the lab counter and wedging his body between your legs.
everything was hot and heavy, and the effects were evolving and worsening. it was growing stronger with each touch, and though feeling each other was helping ease the pain, the need for more was growing too strong to ignore.
you pulled away from him, tears threatening to spill from your doe eyes as you stared up at peter, who didn't look much better.
"what? what is it, what do you need, baby?"
"i-i... i need you to touch me, pete."
peter went pale at your confession. it was asked so quietly, but it held so much weight. weight he'd think about after he got to find out what you tasted like.
with a deep rumble in his chest and another sloppy kiss to your neck, peter began to fumble his way around your waistband, asking you a thousand extra times if this was okay.
yeah, i fucking think so.
peter's index fingers hooked the hips of your pants; feeling his hands on your bare skin for the first time covered you in goosebumps. it was numbing the pain in your chest and igniting something in it all the same. you were so caught up in the moment, gobsmacked over peter parker, your best friend of six years, tugging your pants down, that you almost didn't notice that he'd pulled them back up.
your cheeks instantly bloomed in mortification. "fuck, i-im sorry, i-i don't know what's come over me—"
"no! stop apologizing, please. i just..." peter took a dramatic pause, and the only thing that could be heard was the two of you heavily panting, taking in the scene unfolding before you as the pain hammered in each of your chests.
"i need to tell you something before anything else happens."
you gave him a worried look, and peter returned it with a heavy sigh.
"i don't know what the fuck is happening right now, and why i feel like im fucking going to die if you don't touch me right now, and this is all my fault and i'm so fucking sorry—"
"peter. what's wrong?"
well, we're already in this deep.
"i don't know what fuck-ass aphrodiasic i just created, but i need you to know that the real me means this too. i can't let anything happen without you knowing that i love you, and this still means something to me. even if i'm not myself right now. a-and i'll do whatever you need me to do, and we can never talk about this again, but you don't deserve me keeping that from you."
you sat on the counter, stunned, as peter anxiously bit his lip, worried he'd just fucked up one of the best relationships that had ever happened to him. and he was still so fucking hard.
the only response you gave him was hopping off the counter and taking your bottoms off for him.
and peter was immediately on you again.
he had a hand rough in your hair as he kissed you, his other firm on your bare ass as he kneaded the soft flesh with a hunger. through his moans and downright whines, he almost missed it:
"i love you too, peter. so fucking much."
something inside of him snapped, and this time he didn't even ask you to jump, wrapping his hands around your waist and lifting you to the counter like you weighed nothing. you wrapped your legs around his hips and pulled him close, the make-out nothing short of a frenzy.
the entire time, peter was in your ear, moaning things into your mouth you only ever dreamed you'd hear:
"this. this isn't how this was supposed to happen."
"you deserve better than this, fuck. deserve better than an empty fucking chem lab, christ's sake."
he was quick to get his hands back on you, traces of mischief left behind as he massaged your thighs and stared at your lace thong with a look you'd never seen from him before. peter had been so caught up in it all, he'd almost forgotten the effects of the reaction. his actions were genuine and intentional. but as he pulled back to get a proper look at you, the pain in his chest settled back in, and his senses reheightened to a million
"fuck, i need to touch you. please, can i touch you?" peter whined.
you were breathless in response, "please peter, do whatever the fuck you want to me. just please, do something. anything."
he groaned and ran his hands up your thighs till he reached the delicate lace, teasingly tracing the hemline. "don't fucking say that. i-i don't think i can control myself right now."
"pete, i don't want you to control yourself," a shudder ran down his spine.
"please. fuck me."
peter didn't have the energy left in him to delay this any longer.
he ripped the underwear clean from your body, pulling you to the edge of the counter and dropping to his knees in front of you. he wasted no time running his tongue through your glossy folds, latching his lips over your clit.
peter was so hungry, and the mixture of the fading pain in your chest and the pleasure blooming inside of you was an insane feeling. he added a finger? oh my god. you were fucking incoherent. he added another? you were pretty sure this rivaled the time you tried molly.
you pulled at his hair, begging him (to stop or to go harder, you didn't know). it was all so overwhelming, and every time you looked down to see the source of your pleasure and remembered it was your peter parker? you were close to the edge the quickest you'd ever been.
"pete, i-i..."
"what is it, baby?" he breathed, quickly returning to your dripping cunt.
baby. jesus fucking christ. that almost did you in right then and there.
"i wanna touch you too."
peter groaned deep inside you in response, and the vibration was enough to send you over the edge. you felt your body fly over the moon as you came, peter not letting down for a second as he fucked you with his tongue so you could ride out the high, lapping up every drop you gave him.
he stood up, breathless, glistening, and a little cocky if you knew peter the way you thought you did. "how are you feeling? did that help, d-does it still hurt?"
you were panting as you came down from your high, taking a second to be aware of your body and headspace again. you couldn't help but feel emotional as you noticed the effects starting to creep back in. you shed a tear and nodded as you felt the headache thundering in the distance.
peter pulled you into a hug, and it was almost enough to sober you up again, because something about this one felt different. more weighted.
"im sorry, baby, fuck. i-i'm sorry, what can i do? how can i help?" fuck, this was all his fault.
you sniffled in his ear, but the movement of your hips against his contradicted your melancholy demeanor. "it's better when you're touching me. please, just don't stop."
between your words and you snaking your hand down to palm him softly, peter parker was a wreck, and wrapped around your finger.
he was quick to envelop you in a kiss and drink you in, and you moved to claw his shirt off of him. you pulled back to look at him, and it wasn't like you hadn't seen peter shirtless over the years, but you'd never seen him this close, in this context. it made your chest hurt in a different way.
"fuck, you're so hot," you groaned, almost as though an inside thought had slipped out.
he snickered. "me? are you kidding me right now?"
peter roughly kissed you before tugging your shirt off, absolutely elated at the discovery you'd forgone a bra under your crewneck. he stared at you like a deer in headlights, starstruck as he saw you for the first time.
"jesus christ, you're a fucking dream."
his hands were on your tits before you could even register it, but the feeling only made you crave him more. you messed with his pants, and he took over amidst your frustration. boxers and all, he sprang free in front of you, and Holy Shit Peter Parker. that's fucking obscene.
"this is your last chance to change your mind. because once i start, i dont think i'll be able to stop," he warned.
"please fuck me, peter."
he attacked your chest with his lips, hands firm on your hips as he shifted you again to the edge of the counter. you wrapped your soft fingers around his leaking cock, and he was almost done for before you'd even started.
peter moaned loudly and moved to put his large hand over yours to line himself up. you were still soaked from peter's previous meal, making it easy for him to slide his head through your slit. you were a begging mess in his ear, nails scraping down his back in anticipation.
peter nudged your entrance and pushed in easily (whether from the pollen or his ample prep, no one knows). the two of you moaned in filthy harmony, the feeling a definition beyond indescribable.
his legs were shaking immediately, and despite his inhuman strength, it became apparent that he couldn't do this standing for much longer if you felt this good.
"fuck, sweetheart," peter grabbed you roughly and pulled you towards him, pushing to the hilt and pressing hip to hip with you. he picked you up, spun you around, and laid you on the cool tile
"this isn't what you deserve, fucking you on the ground like this. fuck, baby."
and then peter was relentless.
he pounded into you with such a force, his mouth still focused on your tits and how they bounced for him. both of you could breathe again, the pain lifting and now replaced with a newly discovered pleasure that made you emotional again. you looked completely fucked out, tears streaming down your cheeks as peter lifted your thighs higher to get as deep in you as possible.
"fuck, please don't cry," he begged, though he kept drilling into you, knees now meeting your own chest. "i'm sorry, i'm so sorry."
you pulled him down, his chest pressing against the back of your thighs, and your foreheads connected as you breathed him in, exhaling a rough "i love you so much, peter".
he stuttered for a moment, eyes as wide as they were the first time he heard you say it. not for long, though, as he stayed pressed against you and picked up the pace like never before.
"oh my god, i fucking love you."
peter had you seeing stars, and you didn't know how long you'd even been in the lab. five minutes could have passed, maybe three hours. all you knew was that you didn't care, and you were close. peter knew it too.
"babe-baby, you're close. i-i can feel it, you're so fucking tight around my cock." you couldn't help but clench him in response.
"fuck, yeah-y-yes. god, squeezing me so good. god, i knew you were made for me."
it was the sentimentality of everything that sent you over this time. hearing the way he talked about you, you came around his cock, and it felt so fucking magical. but peter didn't slow down, determined to ride out your orgasm. he was quickly losing his composure, though, at the feeling of you fluttering around his cock.
"sweetheart, w-where—"
"inside, please."
peter didn't even have time to question the outcomes to his actions because the second he heard you, his best fucking friend, moaning for him to cum inside of her? oh fucking hell.
he let out such a guttural moan as he came, hot and thick, deep inside of you. you felt so warm and full, so much so that it triggered a third orgasm, sobbing peter's name as he just kept going. mixed arousal spilled down your thighs as he continued to fuck you, and through your fucked out haze, you could feel his cum drip down and pool around your ass.
you were barely conscious at this point, but peter kept going as he muttered "i'm sorry" over and over again.
luckily, he'd released the goddamn mating press and released your legs, allowing you to stretch out. peter was able to cover more of your body with his, lying chest to chest with you as his hips rutted into yours. the new position was so much more intimate as he leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss again.
"please. please, just one more. one more and i'll stop."
peter said that three more times that evening before he was done, and he felt like himself again.
he looked down at you in awe, though concern slipped through his fucked out eyes. "you okay, bug?"
"i can't believe you really just gassed us with an aphrodisiac."
peter laughed, a blush creeping on his cheeks at the memory of his fatal mistake. "yeah, that was, uh... that was my bad."
a/n: for all of you hoes who are also hot for teacher, bon appetit, bitch ♡
summary: “no, I was thinking a little something else,” a mischievous grin slowly twisted up his lips, “how about, if we win, then you have to make a move on that professor,” he goaded, “but if you win, then we’ll–, I don’t know, what would you like?”
warnings: professor!peter parker x innocent!reader, smut, dark content, college au, polyamory, student/teacher relationship, forbidden romance, age gap, dilf!peter, babysitting, alcohol consumption, kissing, corruption kink, car sex, semi-public sex, voyeurism, panty sniffing, dirty talk, hair pulling, masturbation, fingering
word count: 3611
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take her under your wing au masterlist | 101, guide to the au
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Staying back, you watched in your periphery as the other students slowly filtered out of the lecture hall, though your gaze stayed glued to the teacher as he packed up his things down by the wide chalkboard.
Professor Parker’s back was turned to you as you neared, and a murmur quickly rolled off your tongue, “professor, I just wanted to–,” but then as he whirled around, unaware of how close you had crept, his frame bumped directly into yours, and the half-empty cup of cold coffee in his grasp jostled in the clash and splashed down upon the both of you.
“Oh, shit!” he exclaimed as his eyes first flickered down to the large stain on his shirt before they blinked up to discover who was to blame.
“I am so sorry, oh no…” you gasped as you stared back at his ruined button-down, the sodden state of your own clothing not seeping through your guilt yet.
“It’s–,” the flash of anger that had momentarily sparked was swiftly squashed when his gaze fell upon you, “it’s alright,” he exhaled as his shoulders relaxed, “I have some spare clothes in my office.”
“Really?”
“Habit of being a dad,” he shrugged as he picked up his leather satchel, “this is not the first time I’ve spilt something on myself. Come, you can borrow one as well. I’m guessing you don’t want to walk around campus like that,” he faintly nodded to your t-shirt as his eyes fought not to stare.
“What?” you finally glanced down at yourself and noticed how the soaked coffee stain had turned the thin cotton of your shirt nearly transparent, “oh…” heat swiftly began to rise in your cheeks for a different reason other than just the mortification of the clumsy collision, “oh my god…”
Though you only shrugged on the button-down he handed you once you stepped inside of his office, merely covering up the sheer state of your shirt enough for you to get back to your dorm and change, your heart began to hammer in your chest as he absentmindedly stripped off his ruined shirt and didn’t realise what he had done till half of the buttons on the fresh one was fastened.
“So,” he swiftly cleared his throat as you struggled to blink away from the sliver of his chest that he hastily covered back up, “what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Hm?” you hummed, fearing drool might be leaking down your chin by now.
“When I walked into you,” he reminded your foggy head, “you started saying something, so what was it?”
“Oh, that…” an airy chuckle puffed out of your lungs as you averted your gaze, “it’s so silly now…” and you tugged open your backpack and reached into it before you uttered, “I know it’s cliche, but I brought you an apple…”
“Oh,” a smile warmed up the older man’s features as you plucked the fruit out of your bag and held it for him to grasp, “that’s cute.”
Once in his hand, he twisted around to place it delicately in the middle of the cluttered desk behind him.
“You know, now that you’re here,” he began before he turned back to face you, “I wanted to talk to you about maybe looking after Benjamin again.”
“I dare you.”
“What? No!” you shrieked at Andy as he cracked open another beer for himself, “he’s my professor!”
“So? That shouldn’t stop you,” he cocked a brow, “go ask Billy, he’s screwed more faculty members than I can recall,” he nodded to the frat guy currently propped up against the far side wall, chatting up some girl as the party buzzed around him, “come on, you said you have a crush on him.”
“Oh my god,” you swiftly buried your head in your hands, “I knew I shouldn’t have told you.”
“Well, then maybe don’t play truth or dare if you’re gonna be such a baby about the things you share,” he only chuckled in return.
Marc then draped an arm around your shoulders and boomed over the music, “you should go for it!”
“Stop, I’m not gonna seduce him,” you crawled out of hiding with a groan, “I’m not some siren.”
“No, but you are a hot little freshman, which is pretty damn close,” Marc smirked as you met his gaze.
A head then poked through the open doorway before it swivelled to find you, “hey, there you guys are,” Scott waved a hand, “we’re up.”
“Oh, finally,” Andy exhaled before you all began to shift into the room in the fraternity where the beer pong table was permanently set up in, “who won last round?”
“Curtis and Bucky,” Scott cocked his head as you settled in beside him on one end of the table while the two others migrated towards the opposite side.
“Aw, man…” Marc swiftly sighed, “they’re probably gonna take the crown again…”
And as you all prepared the table for another game, lining cups up in triangles on either end, Andy’s voice then found your ears as you grasped the small ping pong balls in your palm, ready for your first toss.
“Wait, how about we make this a little more interesting?”
Furrowing your brow, you shifted the lightweight sphere from one hand to the other, “interesting how? I don’t wanna put money on this, if that’s what you mean. My stepfather, and by proxy Steve, may be rich assholes, but that doesn’t mean I am…”
“No, I was thinking a little something else,” a mischievous grin slowly twisted up his lips, “how about, if we win, then you have to make a move on that professor,” he goaded, “but if you win, then we’ll–, I don’t know, what would you like?”
“Oh, wait, I get to choose something?” your eyes couldn’t help but widen at the temptation.
“Yeah.”
Mulling it over, you then uttered, “…well, my notes for pretty much all of my classes are really messy… so, if I win, then you guys could organise them all,” you pointed at both of your competitors with a smile, “rewrite them in nice legible handwriting, colour code it and everything.”
“Seriously?” Andy promptly squinted at you as a look of disappointment washed over his features.
“That's what I want.”
“You know you could have had anything, or anyone, as a prize, and you chose that?”
“What?” you blinked back at him as if you were a puppy, “it’s what I want.”
“Alright then,” a chuckle slipped through his sigh, “game on.”
“Oh, hey. You’re back,” you uttered as you picked your nose out of the textbook cracked open on your professor’s dining table and glanced up to spot him waltzing in through the door. He was slightly wet from the brief trek up the driveway and into the house as rain had begun to hammer against the windows.
“Yeah, that fundraiser dragged on for an eternity…” he sighed as he hung up his coat. Stepping closer to where you sat, he asked, “how did it go here? Is Benji down for the night?”
“Yep, he’s asleep,” you nodded, “we played outside in the garden,” you smiled as you reported, thinking back to how you and the six-year-old had played hide and seek, “he helped supervise while I made dinner, by the way, there’s still some left over in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet,” you briefly pointed over your shoulder towards the kitchen, “and then we started reading Ronja, the Robber's Daughter as a bedtime story, and just as a fair warning, he is hooked. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wakes up tomorrow morning with a burning desire to run into the woods and pretend that he is the daughter of a viking.”
Your collective giggles about the child filled the air a moment before it simmered down once more and Peter’s eyes drifted to your homework on the table.
“And what’s this now?” he planted a hand close to where you sat and leaned in.
“This is the assignment for your class, but don’t peek yet!” your fingers swiftly grasped the corner of the notebook in front of you before you tilted it mostly shut to hide the scribbled words from his view, “that’s cheating! You’ll just have to be patient and get it next week along with all the others.”
“I’ll try my best,” he chuckled as he gazed down at you.
And as you met his eye, your vision soon flickered down to the buttoned-up collar of his shirt before you remembered, “oh hey,” and you dipped down to slip a hand into the backpack you had leaned against the leg of the dining table, “I forgot to give this back to you earlier.”
“Oh, thanks,” his eyebrows floated up a tad as you handed him the shirt you’d borrowed, “I almost forgot about it,” before his fingers drifted up to push his glasses back into place.
A crack of thunder then ripped both of your attentions to the broad window behind you.
“Wow,” you murmured as you watched a bolt of lightning split through the darkness of the late evening, “it’s really coming down out there…”
“Yeah…” Professor Parker hummed before his glance shifted to you, “wait, was that your bicycle out front? You can’t ride back in this weather,” his head faintly shook from side to side.
“Oh, well, you live so close to campus, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Nonsense, I’ll drive you,” he pressed.
“You really don’t have to, it’s already so late.”
“Young lady, I am giving you a lift and that’s final,” he captured your timid gaze, “I can’t have my best student get sick or struck by lightning.”
Feeling your cheeks heat up, you breathed, “well, when you put it like that…”
“Let me just go put this away,” he raised the shirt in his hand up slightly, “and then we’ll be on our way.”
“Great,” you smiled before it promptly dropped as he slipped out of the room.
It had been the guys who had talked you into shimmying off your panties the next time you were here and placing them on his bedside table to enjoy, though you had all but forgotten about the lack of coverage currently beneath your skirt right until you watched your professor waltz right into the lion’s den.
“W-wait–,” you tried to stop him, but by the time you parted your lips, he was already long gone.
And before you even realised it, you had risen from the chair and your feet had begun to tip-toe after him. The dark hallway swallowed you whole as you crept through it towards the open doorway into his bedroom.
Hiding yourself in the shadows with your fingernails digging into the doorframe as you peeked inside, a silent prayer left your lips as you hoped he’d not notice the tiny ball of folded-up, pastel-blue cotton on the nightstand, at least not while you were still under his roof.
Though when he’d tossed the shirt into the hamper by his closet, his footsteps faltered when he turned to exit the room. As he stared at the small bundle, it wasn’t till he reached the bedside table that he realised what exactly it was.
Picking it up, he turned it over in his hand a moment before your palm soared up to clasp over your mouth and silence a gasp as he then raised the pale fabric up even higher till it reached his nose.
Though you knew that you should have, you just couldn’t tear your stare away from him, even after his free hand had squeezed the growing bulge in his pants, after he had freed his fat cock, and even after soft grunts began to tumble up his throat as he let his eyes flutter shut and his tight fist began to stroke his length.
And once he’d gotten himself off, his cum now staining your panties clutched tightly in his grip, he then crumbled them up and stuffed them into his pocket.
Scrambling to rush back to the dining room, you tried to ignore the throbbing between your thighs and the arousal that had begun to leak down them as well from that sinful display.
When you heard his footsteps echo down the hallway, you packed up your things as quickly as you could, tossing them into your backpack as you tried your best to pretend that nothing had just happened.
Clearing his throat as he entered the room once more, he then murmured, “you ready to go?”
“Mhm,” you twisted around to face him, however noticed how he refused to meet your eye.
Though you both tried to be hasty as you went out into the storm, strapping your bike to a rack on the back of his car, you were both still completely soaked when the vehicle’s doors closed behind each of you, low exhales acting as punctuations after the slams.
You tried to recall the long list of tips and tricks your stepbrother’s friends had pushed on you, but your mind went completely blank as all you could think about was the vision of your teacher touching himself before your very eyes.
And before Peter’s fingers could slip the key in and turn on the engine, you found yourself, in your flustered frenzy, leaning in to press your lips to his own.
The kiss was rushed and rather clumsy, but you stayed frozen, long enough for your tense shoulder to begin to thaw, though when you finally felt him slip from his stunned state, he only kissed you back for a split second before his hands grasped your shoulders and he tilted you away from him.
“What are you doing?” he demanded breathlessly as his grip stayed at your upper arms to keep you at a distance.
“I’m sorry, I just–,” you gasped shakily, “I think I might like you…”
“Oh fuck…” a long sigh slipped from his lungs as he bowed his head and closed his eyes, “this can’t be happening…”
“I’m sorry, I should have asked first, I just kind of panicked,” you tried, hearing your voice tremble embarrassingly.
“No, you shouldn’t have asked, because none of this should have happened in the first place,” he swiftly grumbled before he let his touch fade from your arms, “this is all my fault, I shouldn’t have crossed this line, opened my home to you and let you see me as something other than your superior.”
“Professor,” you shifted in your seat, “I’m sorry that I kissed you, I just thought that you might–”
“Kissed me? Oh, this isn’t just about you kissing me,” a soft scoff bubbled out of him as his head faintly shook, “miss Y/l/n, you can’t just leave your undergarments around for your teacher to find.”
Averting your gaze, you found yourself muttering just beneath your breath, “…well it didn’t look like you minded…”
“What?” he nearly growled, “what did you just say?”
“I–…”
“Were you spying on me?” he accused heatedly.
“I–, well–,” you panted, “I can explain, it wasn’t my idea–”
“So, what–, this is just some game you’ve got going with your little friends? See who can sleep with a teacher first or something?”
“No, it’s not,” you frantically shook your head before you had to tilt it in shame, “or well–, some people I know found out about the dumb crush I have on you and then they kinda dared me, gave me some suggestions on what to do…”
“Oh my god…” he exhaled slowly and averted his gaze, “…okay…” he then enclosed his fingers around the steering wheel, “I am gonna drive you back and then we will both forget that any of this ever happened, you got it?” he said firmly, though the hurt in your eyes he then spotted as you blinked back at him swayed him to take a step back and choose his next words very carefully, “look, you’re a very sweet girl, and I’m flattered, truly, but you don’t want me,” he faintly shook his head as he gazed back into your glossy eyes, “you should go be with someone your own age…”
“Should I?” you innocently uttered in a heartbreaking tone, “just like you shouldn’t be getting off to the thought of your students?”
Checkmate.
Slowly, you inched closer to his frozen form, “it’s okay,” you whispered when you leaned so near that your noses nearly touched, “I promise, I won’t tell anyone…”
And then as if something inside of your teacher snapped, he huffed, “fuck…” before he closed the short gap between you both and kissed you fiercely.
It felt as if he was trying to devour you whole as you began to make out in his car, rain still thrashing against the outside as his tongue fluttered against yours for a taste of your youth.
Your fingers soon drifted up to tangle his soaked tie in your grasp and you found yourself purring meekly against his lips as his own touch floated up your frame, ghostly against your sides, before he cupped your jaw.
But just as quickly as he had shattered, he once again pulled back, just ever so slightly to murmur, “this is wrong…” his hot breath fanned across your flaming cheeks, “you’re my student…” before you tilted up to steal another peck from him, one so sweet that it prompted him to crumble even further, “h-how old are you? You’re eighteen?” he asked breathlessly before you offered him a faint nod, “you’re eighteen…” he panted through his conflict, “holy fuck…”
You then kissed him again till his hands gradually began to gain more confidence as they raked across your frame. His touch was bold as it captured your tits, palming the softness through the wet clothing that clung to your curves, making you whimper into his mouth, a sweet sound that caused him to smirk faintly against your lips before he deepened the kiss even further.
“You can touch me, professor,” you panted as one of his hands soared up to weave through the hair at the nape of your neck, “it’s okay, I want you to.”
With his grip rooted in your hair and keeping you close, he held your eye as he then let one of his palms slowly wander down between your thighs till your skirt gathered around the watch on his wrist and his touch crept up to brush against your bare core.
Studying the reaction that flashed across your features closely, he groaned, “holy shit…” as your needy nectar soaked his careful touch, “is this for me? Really?”
“Mhm…” you struggled to nod as his fingertips swept up to graze against your throbbing clit.
“Fuck…” he shared your breath, “you really had me believing that you were just a good little girl who’d never pull a stunt like this…”
“Well, maybe I am,” you uttered raggedly as his caresses caused you to tremble with every rub and flick he granted you in his exploration of your haven, “maybe I just have some really bad influences in my life.”
“Yeah, well then lucky me,” two of his long fingers promptly swept down to slip inside of you, making you gasp at the sudden stretch before you squirmed, your legs instinctively wiggling further apart for him, “keep that devil on your shoulder if this is what it gets you.”
Loosing himself completely, it was as if he was possessed as the kind hearted professor you once knew was no longer the man sitting in the car next to you, certainly not the older doctor who soon began to fuck you with his fingers, making your pussy sing for him, and weep against the leather seat below, as he greedily rocked his digits inside of you.
Tilting down, he let his lips flutter against the collum of your neck as he murmured, “what else did your friends say you should do to get me to fuck you, huh?”
“They–, they–…” you tried to recall, but simply couldn’t as the sensation of his fingers, dragging in and out of your dripping cunt, rendered it an impossible task to accomplish, “fuck… I don’t know, I don’t remember…”
“You don’t?” a low chuckle rumbled in his chest at how flustered he’d made you.
“N-no,” your thighs trembled on either side of his hand as it momentarily withdrew to slip up through your soaked petals to offer your puffy pearl a brief rub, before his touch once again soared down to fill you up, “fuck, please don’t stop, that feels so good.”
“Yeah?” he pressed his nose against your cheek as he gazed down at your pussy, the front of your skirt now pushed up so high on your hips that one merely had to glance to catch sight of the leaky mess now on full display, “you gonna cum?”
“Mhm,” you nodded frantically as your eyes too fluttered down to peer at his fingers, shiny as they pumped within you, and your eyebrows knitted tightly in pleasure as the overwhelming high threatened to come crashing down upon you like an avalanche.
“Then do it,” the grip he had on the roots of your hair flexed as he then tilted your head slightly for him to capture your hazy gaze, “give me something to think about when I get myself off,” he groaned breathlessly as he kept up his ruthless pace, “cum all over my fingers like a good little girl.”
And as your cunt clenched down around his digits, your loud moans bounced off the car’s walls, “p-professor–, o-oh fuck!”
