18+ ⫶ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 ? 𝐍𝐎 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 = 𝐍𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 .
the apartment walls are thin, and peter parker has just the trick up his sleeve… to muffle your moans with his webs. 🕸️ྀི
the apartment walls in queens weren’t exactly built the best — a wooden frame sheathed with drywall so weak, you could hear the sound of water running through your neighbors pipes whenever they’d touch their faucets. even a soft breeze outside could be heard whistling throughout the ridiculously flimsy walls, and unfortunately with thin walls… comes absolutely zero privacy.
but of course there’s no privacy, not whenever peter’s hips are driving flush against your ass. his sweaty palms clasped around the lock of your knees, pressing them towards your chest as the weight of his hips continuously drop against you — punching air out of your lungs from every desperate thrust he feeds into your sopping pussy.
“mmphmm, f-fuck, peter— feels s’ good!” you choke, throwing your head back against the pillow beneath your head. your arms hung from his neck, fingers engulfed in his silky, brunet curls as your soft cadences of pleasure get him going.
“i-i know, baby.” peter breathes against your skin, his face buried in the dip of your neck fanning warmth into dewy condensation. “i know, but we have to quiet down, remember?” he whispers with a struggled grit from the way your insides wrap his cock into snuggest tunnel he calls home.
“but i can’t, it feels t’ good!” you try to compromise, attempting to stifle your sweet moans and failing miserably — but how could you? how is it possible to quiet down whenever peter, himself is chasing that exact high that makes you both a little delirious in the feat of heat?
your toes curl, and hands claw down from his scalp to his shoulders making peter groan at the sting. “i know— hah- it feels it good…” he chokes, hips stammering in place. his cheeks are flushed, stray strands of hair glued to his forehead as sweat drips down every crevice of his sculpted muscles.
peter lifts his head, desperate eyes latched onto yours as his calloused hands snake up your waist to cradle your face in his hands.
his breathing is staggered — chest rising up and down at a quickened pace before dropping eye level, as if he were trying to tell you something telepathically before pressing his lips against yours. his mouth devouring every inch of your mouth as he repositions his hips while pulling away to replace his hand for his mouth.
“i’m so sorry, baby.” peter softens his voice, “i can’t stop because it feels too fuckin’ good to stop.” he whines.
and maybe that kiss alone was a telltale sign of what’s next to come as you feel the sensation of warmth spread across your mouth.
a stringy-like texture forming a tacky layer against your lips to silence any sound because as much as he loved your raw, sweet pathetic moans. he also knew that there’d be a neighborly complaint waiting just outside his door the next morning.
peter drives his hips forwards, thrusting straight to the hilt making your back arch off the mattress. your nails carving moon-shaped crescents into his flesh earning low grunts as a moan climbs through your throat with nowhere to go because your mouth is webbed shut, forcing you to swallow down a few muffled whimpers. “that’s better…” peter sighed, letting his subconscious thoughts slip past his lips.
this was the perfect solution. a little unethical? yes, but nonetheless perfect in his books because now — now, peter can finally immerse himself into pure lust that he’s strayed away from — the kind of lust where he doesn’t have to hold back, where he can completely lose his mind in pleasure without having to worry about a disturbance warning.
and it’s all thanks to his organically crafted webs.
wc ::: drabble length sharinote ::: contains dumbification and some other stuff! unprotected sex as well as mirror sex… also pet names (SLIGHT daddy kink… im so sorry) and overstimulation + squirting and maybs a little roughness. this isn’t proofread :(
[porn no plot] just your boyfriend fucking you dumb and making you squirt 👻
'dumb baby...' your boyfriend relentlessly fucked into you from behind — his breath hot and fanning against you neck, fueling to the fire that was your arousal.
the mirror in front of you was just as foggy as your brain — your eyes clouded, and rolled back as you babbled incoherently. 'mmm...' a soft groan fell bubbling from between your lips.
'you're drooling everywhere, sweet girl...’ your boyfriend’s rough thrusts coming to a slow halt as his hands snaked around your body. ‘here… give daddy your chin, sweetheart.' his long slender fingers came crawling between the valley of your breasts and past your neck to firmly grip you cheeks.
'look at you, sweetheart. so, so pretty.' as he forced your face up and out of the sheets his lips met your own in a sloppy wet kiss — one filled with passion and desire. once more, his hips forcefully slammed against your ass — red from the friction as he buried himself deep within your sopping cunt.
'good girl...' his hand groped the swell of your breasts. as you were overwhelmed with pleasure, you could feel yourself slipping away. what you’d assumed to be your third, maybe fourth orgasm crept up on you. 'aht aht...’ he tutted in your ear. ‘want you to look... watch it, pretty girl.'
you could feel him roughly repositioning your face yet again to stare into your reflection.
he trailed kisses along your neck, chuckling warmly as he saw your eyes snap open in awe at the scene before you: your thighs littered in hickeys your lips puffy and swollen and your whole body quivering in absolute bliss.
'ah! s'too much... s'so deep!' you squirmed. he pressed on the bulge poking out from your lower abdomen. 'too deep? m'only right here... how about this?' harder. deeper. you suddenly hit the mattress, his grip on your waist faltering as he fucked into you with even more dedication... slamming you down and splitting you open for the umpteenth time on his cock... he continued bullying himself cozily into your cunt as he drilled further, and further within you velvety wet walls. ‘ffuck… always so tight aren’t you, baby?’
'ahw fuck, fuck mh!' gasping, your fingers knotted up in the sheets as you moaned uncontrollably… back arching far into the bed before he lifted you up yet again — his tip practically kissing your cervix.
‘shit! w-wait…’ the knot in your stomach began to wrap itself up. waves of pleasure threatening to fall and crash over you if he continued — which he did.
it only took a few more thrusts — each drag of his cock soothing your high as you’d finally came.
sharp thrust after sharp thrust… you took note of how he carefully overstimulated you. harshly rubbing your clit even after your orgasm. ‘shit! a-already… fuck… I already came.’ you pout, whining. ‘I know, just hold on, baby… need one more thing from you.’
‘unghhh!’ the male had lifted you up once more… your reflection not your own as you appeared completely ruined. ‘how’s it feel hm?’ your sore core ached — burning hot as you cried, leaning into his neck. ‘don’t hide.’
‘feels like im ‘gonna pee…’ you mumbled beneath your breath. he nodded. ‘good girl, let go f’me.’
another knot came forming in your tummy…
‘w-wait! ohmygodohmygod..!’ and clear liquid shot from between you legs. drenching the sheets and you and your boyfriend's thighs.
the two of you breathed heavily collapsing onto one another as he kissed your forehead. ‘angel girl…’ he purred. ‘did so good for me yeah?’
lee heuseng: yang jungwon: choi soobin: kang taehyun: jeong yunho: choi san: taesan: leehan: park gunwook: suh johnny: lee jeno: whoever else your little heart desires 🤍
Absolutely adores it, feeling you around his length makes him feel so close to you, it’s very intimate for him.
I don’t see him using it as a punishment, it kills him to deny you pleasure, so at most it’s just an act for you both to relax but also be intimate at the same time.
The sweetest boyfriend ever, praises you, kisses your shoulder and holds you close. and always makes sure you’re comfortable no matter what.
Mostly for when you both are sleepy too, he loves to lazily kiss you while you grind your hips down onto him ever so slightly, also adores those droopy eyes you have while looking at him.
⠀ ────⠀ LEE SANGHYEOK
I don’t see him necessarily enjoying cock warming, and probably would only use it as a punishment. (dom riwoo drools)
He’ll force you to sit still on his cock, whispering the dirtiest things in your ear that makes you clench around him. (making him whimper but he’ll punish you for longer if you tease him about it.)
Smacks your ass if you try to grind your hips down on him, and savors the little gasp you let out.
In the end he gets too needy, and you end up riding him until you’re both milked dry.
⠀ ────⠀ MYUNG JAEHYUN
also isn’t a fan of cock warming imo… he’s so desperate to feel you clench around him while he pumps his length in and out of you. Just sitting while your walls hug him to perfectly would kill him.
Which also makes it a perfect way to punish him.. wink wink nudge nudge, he’ll be whining like a sad puppy under you, gripping your hips while trying to make you grind down onto him, when you don’t budge he’ll just complain more.
Kiss him to shut him up, please because he won’t until you give him what he wants. He melts into you instantly and almost forgets how hard he is.
Don’t give into his puppy eyes or you’ll give him an ego boost!! (It’s the hardest thing you’ll ever do)
⠀ ────⠀ HAN DONGMIN
Definitely into it, but unlike popular opinion he’d like it when it’s soft.. like sungho he finds it so intimate and even uses it to focus on work.
He’ll call you over the studio when it’s late and he can’t seem to put his mind to the music. Once you sit on his cock his brain practically does a 180 and he locks in.
Please pepper kisses on his neck and face too, he’ll be putty in an instant. Your lips tickling his skin and your warmth around him puts him at ease.
Usually ends with gentle sex when you’re both done with the work you needed to get done.
⠀ ────⠀ KIM DONGHYUN
The type to be into whatever your kinks are, and most likely wouldn’t think about cock warming until you bring it up to him, but would so use it to his advantage after.
Such a tease once you get desperate only a few minutes in, your hips roll against him, but he doesn’t stop you, only says “I thought you wanted this? What happened pretty?”
You keep still for the sake of not poking a hole in your ego, but he doesn’t let you off the hook. He makes it so hard for you not to just start bouncing on his cock. His hands ro your body, his mouth littering marks all over your neck and chest, biting down on your most sensitive places.
Forget the cock warming at the end he’s a moaning mess under you, his teasing got a bit too much for you..
⠀ ────⠀ KIM WOONHAK
Like Riwoo, he’d use it as a punishment AND be into it. He loves watching you squirm on top of him, pleading in his ear. It only makes him harder.
Move more than once and he will refuse to give you what you want in the end. (Of course unless you give him those eyes that make him fold instantly, he is not a strong soldier.)
Acts clueless when you beg for him to move, he tilts his head like a curious puppy as tears well up in your eyes from how needy you are.
Kisses your cheeks as tears roll down, shushing you as you sniffle. (Another way to make him fold, he can’t stay mean for long..)
a/n : SORRY FOR THE SHORTER LENGTH WITH THESE HCS.. Your girl is a little busy with uni. I hope you enjoy nonetheless <3
⚠︎ 18+ 𖨂 fem!reader, curious reader, descriptions of frank’s cock, age gap, experienced!frank, free use.
𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄 has seen it all. Hell, Frank Castle has done it all. There isn’t much that surprises him, and being twenty years your elder means that he’s done things you haven’t even heard of. When you explain you’ve never got a good look at male anatomy, Frank offers to be your test subject. It’s how Frank winds up on the bed, laid back while he lets you yank and paw at his belt, begging to see what’s underneath his pants. “You sure this is okay, Frank? I’m just curious about what you look like down there…”
“Yeah,” he nods, head tucked against the pillow as he guided your hand over the growing bulge beneath his jeans. “Yeah, you just wanna see what an older man looks like? It’s ’kay, baby, curiosity is normal.”
The outline of his cock is visible, stretching and throbbing against the denim that keeps his length contained. With a feather light touch, something you didn’t expect The Punisher to don, he leads your fingers to his metal belt buckle and encourages your curiosity.
“You’re pretty big,” you mumble, mostly to yourself, but it pulls a throaty laugh from Frank, and your skin feels hot as his lips curve up to offer a reassuring smile.
Undressing him is a leisurely process, your eyes soaking in every inch of him as he helps you peel clothing off his body. You’ve seen him shirtless before because he’s asked you to clean up wounds he can’t reach himself, but this time you really get to look at his abdomen. His abs curve, divots lining his muscles in a way that reminds you of something Michelangelo had sculpted from marble with a toothed chisel.
Your fingers twitch— hesitating at the waistband of his boxers, but Frank is patient because he can sense your nerves. His rough hand meets your chin, pressing his forefinger under your jaw and using his thumb to rub softly, “Atta girl, doin’ a great job, sweetheart.”
That ‘atta girl’ gives you a boost in confidence and it only takes a deep breath to hook your fingers in the waistband of his boxers and slide them down his legs. He doesn’t move much, bucking his hips just enough to assist you with the boxer removal process, but he knows this is somewhat intimidating for you.
Frank has a pretty cock. The tip is a flushed red, traces of white fluid leaks and a small bead of the liquid drips down the underside of his shaft. He’s thick and girthy, veins ruining up and down his length, and he’s so hard it’s flush with his belly to give you a good view of his balls. Dark pubic hair lines the base, hints of grey hair dispersed throughout, but he keeps it neat down there. He’s well trimmed, well kept, and you almost wonder if the size of him is abnormally large for men, but of course you won’t ask that.
“You don’t have to do anything, baby, you can just take a look around. Use me how you need, take what you want, sweetheart.”
summary: You only meant to step away from the noise for a second. Instead you found a stranger holding a bouquet like he’d brought it just for you, introducing himself with a name that didn’t quite fit and a smile that felt too familiar. One small conversation at a crowded party turns into a few hangouts. Then into something neither of you are supposed to want. The lying. The risk. The way it feels better because it’s wrong.
➺ tags: reader!cheater, bnd!peter parker, secret identity, forbidden, cheating, affair, desperate peter, possessive peter, grinding, humping, interrupted sex, some bnd plot but not rlly, peter!angst at the start
➺ authors note: heavily inspired by a tweet i saw where it says mj should cheat with peter behind her bf’s back but i changed it up so its reader cheating on their bf and made it smutty. i know, im a whore
word count: 3.6k
Peter followed Ned home after he entered the same corner store Peter happened to be at. Ned never looked back. Soon enough they made it to an apartment building with people hanging out outside of it. The stairwell smelled of old carpet and someone’s abandoned takeout. When Ned opened the apartment door the noise hit like a physical wave: bass thumping through the floorboards, overlapping conversations, the sharp smell of cheap beer and liquor and too many bodies packed into too little space. Peter slipped in after him and let the crowd swallow the gap. For a few seconds he lost Ned completely. Then he drifted toward the side room where it was quieter and empty, spotting a Spider Man poster that was taped crooked to the wall on a bulletin board with newspapers and red string dragged around.
The bathroom door opened.
Ned stepped out. Peter stood frozen in the doorway, holding a red plastic cup he had grabbed moving through the crowd.
“Oh,” Peter said, voice low and awkward. “I’m not weird or anything. I just want to know who Spider Man is. Not to demask him. Just to say thank you for saving me and my friends’ lives.”
Ned blinked, then grinned and it launched into a brief, easy conversation about the local Spider Man sightings. Peter answered carefully, eyes flicking to the board, the weight of everything unsaid sitting heavy in his chest.
After a while the volume from the main room got a little louder. You walked into the room looking for Ned, needing a break from the crowd, stopping at the doorway.
“There’s like fifty people in our apartment,” you said, glancing around behind you. “Statistically, at least two of them are sociopaths….which is kind of cool.”
Peter’s entire body went still. That voice. It had been so long since he’d heard it in person that the sound of it felt like a physical blow. You looked different but the same.
You looked at him, curious. Your gaze dropped to the small bouquet still clutched in his other hand.
“Nice flowers.”
He held them out before he could overthink it. “U-uh… they’re… uh, housewarming gift.”
Your smile was soft. “Really? Wow, thanks. Most people just brought beer.”
You took them and introduced yourself. Peter took a sip of whatever liquor was in the red cup and nodded.
“I’m uh… Mayn… Maynerd.” He cleared his throat.
Ned bumped in. “Oh. You two don’t know each other?”
“I’m a neighbor,” Peter replied.
“Friendly neighbor,” You said bringing the flowers closer and inhaling.
Peter choked on the next sip. A little cough, eyes watering, muttered “I’m sorry” while the drink threatened to come up his nose.
Ned broke the silence. “So… how was the interview?”
You lifted the bouquet. “I’m gonna go put these in water.” As you stepped away slowly you glanced back. “It was nice to meet you, May… nard?… Maynerd.”
Ned followed you into the kitchen. Peter stayed in the doorway, slowly walking out, watching the way you two moved around.
In the kitchen you filled a vase, trimmed the stems, arranged the flowers while Ned hovered. “Did you go? Please tell me you went.”
“Yeah, I went.”
“And?”
“I got the job.”
Ned’s face lit up, “That’s great!—” You shook your head, adjusting a stem. “And I declined it. I don’t want to work for a soulless corporation.”
“They’re not all soulless…Well…they’re all mostly soulless.”
You kept your eyes on the flowers. “I dunno. It might sound cheesy, but I feel like something’s telling me I’m supposed to be waiting for something…great.”
You looked up. Across the crowded living room, one end to the other, the mysterious guy who had brought the flowers was looking around, red cup halfway to his mouth. You admit to yourself that you found him attractive. He seemed familiar in a way you couldn’t pin down.
Ned lifted his cup. “So uhh… to uh, waiting for something great.”
You raised the vase in a mock toast. “To waiting for something great,” you echoed, smiling.
That was when a really tall guy came in on your left. He moved like it was casual for him to be there, close, proprietary. Ned accepted whatever gift the guy handed him and drifted off somewhere out of Peter’s sight.
Suddenly it was just you and a man talking.
From the far end of the room Peter watched. His spidey-sense stretched across the distance, sharp enough to catch every word now. The guy’s hand came up to your cheek, tilted your face, and kissed you.
“That’s my girl.” The words carried clear.
Peter couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His heart hammered against his ribs. He turned and started pushing through the crowd, needing air, needing distance.
Until the front door swung open as Ned and a cluster of guests hauled a huge cake inside, shouting and laughing, blocking the exit completely. Slight panic flickered through him. No way out. He had no choice but to back up into the apartment again, jaw tight, feeling as if he doesn’t belong here anymore.
You and your boyfriend stopped kissing the moment the cake arrived. You moved away from him to help Ned, but Ned already had it under control, waving you off with a grin. You took a step back and accidentally bumped into Peter.
“Oh—I’m so sorry.” You looked up at him. “You alright?”
Peter nodded too fast, voice rough as he cleared his throat from the lump he felt. “Yeah. Fine. Just…crowded.”
But you were looking at him with that interested curious look. The one he had made himself familiar with after the first year of getting to know you… five years ago.
The party didn’t end all at once. It thinned the way parties do: people drifting toward the door in pairs and small groups, the music turning quieter, the air growing cooler as windows were cracked open. Your boyfriend disappeared somewhere with a group heading downstairs for “one more smoke.” Ned was in the kitchen playfully arguing with someone about Spider Man, sounding half drunk. The living room felt larger by the minute.
Peter found you near the kitchen counter while the last stragglers were still gathering their jackets. He kept his voice casual, almost shy, the red cup long abandoned.
“Hey—uh. Would it be weird if we exchanged numbers? Just so I know when the next party is. I had so much fun.”
You hesitated only a second, then took his phone and typed yours in. “Sure. Don’t be a stranger, Maynerd.” You smiled softly at him.
Peter left with the taste of your name still unsaid on his tongue, the apartment door clicking shut behind him as the final guests filtered out.
That same night, while the city stretched out dark and glittering below, Peter sat upside down at the edge of a construction crane, mask lifted onto his forehead. His phone glowing in his hand. The first message came in just after midnight.
: Hey. It’s me from the party. Thanks again for the flowers. Nobody else brought anything that nice. Housewarming gifts like that don’t happen often. You must be good luck or something
Peter smiled small, almost blushing under the cold night air. He reread the message multiple times before answering.
Glad you liked them. They looked better with you holding them anyway
: Flattery will get you everywhere. Or at least another invitation to the next disaster Ned throws
I’ll bring better flowers next time. Or actual food. Your call.
: Food is dangerous. Ned will make you live here
I’ve survived worse
: Doubt it. You’ve never watched me try to cook pasta
Then I guess I’ll have to see it for myself.
He stayed there longer than he should have, upside down, rereading the short chain of messages like they might disappear if he looked away. For the first time in a long time the city felt a little less empty.
It started slow.
A few days later you texted again
: Ned and I are doing dinner tomorrow if you want to come. Nothing fancy. Just dumplings and whatever’s in the fridge.
Peter asked, carefully, about your boyfriend.
: He’s working late. Overtime. It’ll just be us and Ned
Peter arrived. Everyone sat by the kitchen counter while Ned and Peter talked, the conversations between everyone being so easy and funny.
He watched the way you moved around in the kitchen, offering a hand to wash dishes.
The next invitation came when Ned was at a trip with friends in Boston. The next, Ned had a late shift. Then it was just the two of you, takeout containers open on the coffee table, knees touching as you guys sat on the couch.
One night the conversation accidentally dragged past midnight.
One thing led to another and his hand found your waist by accident when you both were going to reach for the same remote, your laugh turning quieter.
When you guys would eat, he looked at your lips when you licked sauce off your thumb.
The first kiss was tentative.
The second wasn’t.
By the time you pulled him into your bedroom the door was locked and your shirt was already on the floor.
After that it became once a week. Always the same night. Always when your boyfriend was reliably elsewhere. You told him you needed the night for work and deep focus, no interruptions.
And he believed you.
Peter would text, On my way. You’d always meet him at the door. Sometimes you barely made it past the entryway of your room before he had you against the wall, mouth hungry, hands already under your clothes. Other nights it started slower with the two of you talking on the couch until the tension built and you were straddling his lap, grinding down while he moaned into your neck.
One afternoon, a month in, you walked out of the bathroom after a shower wearing his white “I Survived My Trip to NYC” shirt. It hung loose on you, soft from wear, the lettering slightly faded. Ned was in the living room and looked up, confused.
“Since when do you have that shirt?”
You shrugged, tugging the hem down. “Thrifted. Three bucks.”
Peter, who had left it the night before, almost swallowed his own tongue when you texted him the story later with a string of laughing emojis.
It had been a full month of weekly nights when his real name was finally revealed.
You knew he was holding something back by how quiet he’d been the entire night. You were both sitting on the edge of your bed, your knee against his, his hand resting high on your thigh, gently caressing. Before anything more could happen, you both spoke at the same time.
“Maynerd isn’t my real name.”
“We should stop because you’re Spider Man.”
You blinked. “Oh. I thought you were going to say you’re Spider Man…”
He huffed a short, nervous laugh. “No… no, I’m not. Why would I be—You want to stop? We could stop if you feel… uncomfortable.”
“Because every time you text you’re on your way I hear a specific sound that hits my fire escape. Because when you leave, by the time I get into my room, I see the same something of someone swinging past my window. You also show up with bruises you won’t explain.”
“That’s just…parkour. And a coincidence.”
“Well I just figured if you’re Spider Man, I wouldn’t want to keep you away from the city.”
He went quiet. The silence dragged until it broke under its own weight.
“Peter,” he said finally. “My real name is Peter Parker. And yeah… I’m…Spider Man.”
You didn’t inch away. Instead, you leaned in closer. “I already wanted you. Knowing just means I understand why you’re always a little broken.”
That night the sex was slower at first, almost reverent, until it wasn’t, and he was fucking you hard enough that the headboard knocked after every thrust and you had to bite his shoulder to stay quiet.
This time, you’d barely gotten past the heavy make out stage. Peter was still fully clothed. You wore only a thin strapped tank top with no bra underneath paired with black underwear. The thin fabric clung to your chest, nipples already visible through it from the friction. You were straddling his lap on the bed, grinding down against the thick ridge of his cock through his jeans while his hands roamed around your soft skin. His mouth was on your throat, teeth gently scraping against it so he doesn’t leave any evidence. You rolled your hips in slow, filthy circles, the damp heat of your cunt soaking through the thin fabric until it was visible against the denim. Peter groaned against your skin, low and soft and wrecked.
“Fuck—keep doing that. Just like that, baby.”
You listened, rolling your hips and grinding on him, the friction so good it made your thighs tremble. His hands slid down to your ass, squeezing hard as he guided you. Your moans mixed in with each other, the wet sound of your soaked cunt dragging over the denim filled the quiet room. You tugged his hair. He tugged yours back harder. You were both panting, tongues in one another, when the front door slammed open.
“Hey babe?!—“ your boyfriend’s voice shouted your name from the living room. “The front door was unlocked! I’ve been texting you!”
“Babe?” His shouts were louder.
You quickly moved off of Peter, panicking. “Holy shit, holy shit…” you whispered. You look over right beside you to see him gone, confused but not questioning it for now.
You scrambled back against the pillows, heart slamming so hard you could feel it in your throat. Your lips were slightly swollen. The thin tank top was rucked up slightly, underwear still damp. You were visibly panting, flushed, wearing almost nothing.
Your boyfriend walked in, phone in hand. He’d seen you in underwear a hundred times before, but he still stopped and frowned at the state of how you looked: flushed, breathless, barely dressed.
“You okay? You look…. why are you just sitting there like that?”
You forced your voice steady. “Yea—I’m Fine. Just hot. Ventilations being weird and all. I just finished changing.”
He sat on the edge of the bed like he belonged there. “Look… is everything okay with us? You’ve been distant. I feel like I barely see you anymore.” But you were barely paying attention, even at your own words. “Yeah, no. Everything’s fine. I’ve just been really busy with my new project.” You smiled, heart racing as your eyes moved up subtly and there he was. One second he was under you, the next he was on the ceiling, putting his finger against his lips, stuck silent in the corner upside down, above the doorframe.
Peter watched the way the other man’s hand rested near your knee and something dark and possessive twisted in his chest.
Carefully and silently, he shot a thin web through the cracked open bedroom door. He shot a stack of books that were on the coffee table and it toppled with a loud crash.
Both of you turned toward the sound.
“What the hell was that?” your boyfriend stood.
You stood with him. “Probably the neighbor cat snuck in again through the fire escape. Or the wind. Look—I’m really busy with work right now. I told you not to come over when I’m working. I need focus. Please just… go.” You led him out of the room.
The intensity in your voice made him pause for a moment but he kept walking. He studied your face, then nodded slowly. “Okay. Okay. Text me when you’re done?”
“Yeah.”
“Love you, text me.”
“Yeah, me too.”
You walked him to the front door, forcing a smile as he kissed your cheek, and locked it the second it closed. The second the deadbolt clicked you were already moving back to the bedroom.
Peter dropped soundlessly from the ceiling. The second his feet hit the floor he had walked towards you and cupped your face with both hands, pulling you close until your noses almost touched. His touch was soft, sweet, almost careful.
“Peter,” you whispered, breath still uneven, “we need to stop.” You leaned in.
He searched your eyes. “You wanna stop?”
Your faces were so close you could feel every exhale. You nodded softly. “Yea… we need to stop…”
His voice dropped even softer. “Then let’s stop, okay?”
“Okay…”
But even as the word left his mouth, his other hand was already moving slow and deliberate, sliding down your side, curling under your thigh, and lifting it up to rest against his hip. He pressed in closer, the hard line of his cock grinding against the soaked crotch of your underwear. The thin tank top did nothing to hide the way your nipples had hardened. He kissed you again, deeper this time, and the soft agreement to stop dissolved under the heat of it.
He walked you backwards once again towards the bed without breaking the kiss, then sat against the pillows propped at the headboard and pulled you into his lap so you could straddle him again. Rolling your hips back and forth, he quickly glances down at the mess you were making. “He doesn’t do it like me, does he?” The wet fabric dragged over the thick ridge of him through his jeans, your answer being a soft moan in response to his question. Peter groaned into your mouth, hands gripping your ass, guiding your hips. You tugged at his shirt. He lifted his arms just enough for you to yank it off and toss it aside. Your palms slid down the warm skin of his chest, over the faint bruises and the rapid beat of his heart, then lower. You popped the button of his jeans, dragged the zipper down, and pushed the denim, leaving him in his boxers. You shifted, grinding against him now, the head of him catching on the edge of your underwear with every roll of your hips.
That was when the familiar hard knock came at the front door.
“Babe—! Wait, babe!” Your boyfriend’s voice carried through the apartment, urgent. “I forgot I came for my business suit! I have an interview tomorrow!”
Both of you froze as you heard the locks move, forgetting he has a spare incase of an emergency.
Panic hit both of you in the face. You scrambled off Peter’s lap so fast you nearly fell. He was already getting ready to crawl back up the ceiling, eyes wide, but before he could do so you panicked and quickly shoved him toward the open window of your room he originally entered from, hearing the sound of the key sliding into the second lock.
“Go—go—” you whispered, frantic.
Peter swung one leg over the sill just as the front door unlocked and opened. You gave him one last desperate push. He dropped out of sight, almost falling but using his new organic webs—he recently discovered— to shoot onto the outer ledge and catch himself, body forced to hang, bare body swinging, arms straining.
You spun, heart in your throat, and bolted for the closet. The suit was right where he’d left it. You yanked it free, nearly tripping over your own feet as you hurried back through the living room.
Your boyfriend stood just inside the doorway, eyebrows raised. You shoved the hanger into his hands.
“Here—sorry, I was—closet was a mess. You really need to stop forgetting things.” Your voice came out too high, too breathless. You were still flushed, lips swollen, smiling widely at your boyfriend. “Interview’s early, right? You should go. Get some sleep…” You coughed awkwardly “…babe.”
He chuckled, low and amused, like there was some private joke you weren’t in on. “You’re acting weird tonight.” He leaned in as if to kiss you; you turned just enough that it landed on the corner of your mouth instead. “Text me when you’re done working?”
“Yeah. Definitely. Go. Get your beauty sleep!”
He lingered half a second longer, then finally stepped back into the hallway. The second the door clicked shut you twisted the lock, spun on your heel, and sprinted back to the bedroom.
Peter was still hanging outside, muscles slightly beginning to tremble with the effort of keeping himself up, dark curls sticking to his forehead, the red glow of a distant neon sign cutting across the defined lines of his back and shoulders. He was trying to hoist himself higher, one arm shaking as he reached for a better grip on the fire escape railing.
You leaned out the window, voice a frantic whisper. “I’m so sorry—I’m so, so sorry—are you okay? Peter—”
He looked up at you, flushed and breathless, a strained almost smile tugging at his mouth even as his arms burned.
“I’m fine,” he managed, voice rough. “Just… give me a second.”
You reached for him, still apologizing under your breath, heart slamming against your chest, the cool air cool against your overheated skin.
Peter finally hauled himself back through the window, landing quietly on the floorboards. For a few seconds neither of you moved. You just stared at each other, chests rising and falling hard, the rush sinking into your skin.
Then the absurdity of it hit.
A breathless laugh slipped out of you first. Peter’s followed a second later, low and disbelieving, as he dragged a hand through his damp curls.
“Holy shit,” he whispered, still half smiling. “He has a key. Of course he has a key.”
“I forgot,” you admitted, voice shaky with leftover adrenaline and something warmer. “I completely forgot.”
He stepped in close, forehead briefly resting against yours while you both tried to steady your breathing. The laughter faded into softer, quieter smiles. His hands found your waist again, thumbs brushing over the thin fabric of your tank top like he needed to make sure you were still real.
“This is insane,” he murmured.
“Completely.”
But neither of you stepped away.
“Finish what we started?” Your eyes met his, and he just smiled and nodded in response.
.ᐟwarnings/tags: established relationship, porn little plot, dom!taesan, tease!reader, groping, parents in house, making out, dirty talk, praising, slight degradation, pet names, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, doggy, creampie
𓏸⠀ 𓈒 you tempt taesan too much, and he just can’t resist his hot girlfriend.
.ᐟwc: 1.7k
The music was so low it barely filled your room. You were curled up on your bed with Taesan, your boyfriend, the two of you pressed close together. At first, your kisses were soft and innocent, lingering on each other’s lips because you were missing him too much these past days. But soon, the longing in your chest became too heavy to contain. Your kisses grew more desperate, more hungry, your lips tracing his jaw, his neck. Your hand drifted under his shirt, fingers grazing the warm skin of his abs, memorizing the feel of him after being apart for a week.
And then, your hand slid lower, brushing over the tight bulge straining against his baggy jeans. Taesan froze, pulling back slightly, his voice low and warning. “Baby…stop teasing.” his fingers lightly pressing against your wrist. You just whined softly, trailing your hand back up to caress his abs again, pressing your lips to his jaw. “But I missed you so much…”
“I know…but your parents are sleeping. We can’t do this now.” he said, voice thick with restraint. You leaned closer, teasing him by brushing the edge of his underwear’s band with your fingers, heart racing, whispering, “I don’t care…just a little…”
“I don’t want to disrespect them...” he murmured, biting his lip as his hands slid over your waist, holding you close, but resisting his own desire. You rubbed him through his jeans again, slowy, and you could feel the way his heart pounded beneath your palm. His breathing grew heavier, voice straining as he tried to hold himself together.
“Don’t…rub there…” he warned. You pressed your mouth to his neck, sucking gently, and suddenly his hand shot down to grab your wrist. “Baby, stop. Stop.” His tone was sharp this time, serious enough to make your pout deepen. “We can’t.” he said firmly, though his eyes were already betraying him, dark and restless.
You blinked up at him, lashes fluttering, lips parted just so, gazing at him with wide, innocent eyes. His jaw clenched as he exhaled. “No—don’t look at me like that. With those fucking eyes.” Slowly, you slipped off his lap, your fingers sliding down to his waistband. His breath hitched. “Baby—no—what are you doing…”
Ignoring his weak protest, you tugged his zipper down, pulling the denim just low enough. You bent your head and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against the outline of his dick through his boxers, your eyes never leaving his face. “Don’t…don’t do that…” he rasped, head falling back against the wall. “Fuck…”
You kept kissing him there, sweet and teasing, until you felt his restraint finally break. “Fuck it.” he growled, hand sliding into your hair to grip the nape of your neck. He yanked you back up to him, crashing his lips against yours with rough, desperate hunger. “You’re such a fucking tease.”
You giggled softly against his mouth, biting down on your bottom lip as his eyes narrowed, one brow raising at your reaction. “You’re enjoying this way too much, aren’t you?” he muttered, voice low. You nodded without hesitation, pulling him back in for another hungry kiss, your tongue sliding against his. “Take this off.” he said roughly, tugging on the waistband of your shorts.
Your skin prickled under his gaze as you slipped them off, tossing them aside. Now you sat there in just your panties and his oversized shirt, cheeks burning as his eyes roamed over you. He quickly yanked off his own shirt, revealing the lean muscles you’d been caressing earlier. His mouth was on yours again in an instant, desperate and demanding.
His hands slid down to cup your ass, squeezing firmly, pulling you flush against the hard outline straining in his boxers. He leaned in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice a soft whisper that sent a shiver straight through you. “Bend over for me.” You slipped off his lap in a rush, climbing onto the bed and bending over for him, face pressed into the sheets, ass up in the air.
“Good girl.” he muttered, his large hands spreading over your cheeks, squeezing hard. “So fucking sexy.” The sharp sting of his palm cracked against your ass, making you yelp into the mattress, only for his touch to soften, caressing where he’d just smacked. The mix of pain and sweetness dragged a whine out of you.
His eyes dropped to your panties, where a dark wet patch had already formed. He groaned low in his throat, rubbing his fingers over your covered slit. “Desperate today, aren’t you? Soaking your panties…” You whined, wiggling your hips, trying to push yourself back against his touch.
He laughed softly, like he couldn’t believe how badly you wanted him. He tugged your panties to the side in one motion, his fingers sliding through your slick folds before rubbing your wetness all over, coating you. You whimpered at the feeling, pushing your hips back for more. Then he slipped two fingers inside without warning, stretching you as he pumped them in and out steadily.
You gasped, gripping the sheets. “Shh, baby,” he hushed, leaning over you, voice hot against your ear. “Keep it down, or I’ll stop.” You nodded quickly, biting your lip as he fucked his fingers into you, your muffled moans betraying your struggle to stay quiet. Just as the pleasure built, he pulled his fingers out, making you whine in frustration.
Before you could complain, the sound of his zipper being undone filled the room. His jeans and boxers were shoved down, and his cock sprang free, heavy and hard. Without wasting another second, Taesan lined himself up and pushed into you slowly but deep, stretching you inch by inch until he bottomed out.
Your muffled whine shook through the pillow. “Fuck…” he groaned, gripping your hips tighter. “Sorry, baby. Couldn’t help myself.” His thrusts started slow but deep, each push making you bury your face into the sheets as soft moans spilled out of you. Your fingers twisted in the fabric, knuckles white. “Are you happy now, baby?” he rasped, hips rolling into you. “Yeah? This what you wanted?”
You nodded over and over, desperate, your voice breaking with every needy sound that escaped your throat. He chuckled breathlessly, low and wicked. “Horny little girl.” His pace picked up, deeper, harder, his hips slamming against yours. Your moans grew louder without your permission, tumbling out in waves, too much to hold back.
Taesan leaned over you, lips brushing against your ear, voice rough with pleasure. “Told you to be quiet, baby.” His palm pressed firmly over your mouth, muffling your cries the instant he began pounding into you deeper, every thrust perfectly angled to hit that spot again and again. The room filled with the wet slap of skin on skin, your muffled moans, his grunts and groans and the soft music.
“Look at you—moaning like a slut when your parents are right downstairs.” he growled into your ear. You whimpered beneath his hand, your body arching as his thrusts grew harder, each one making your gummy walls squeeze around him. “Fuck, you’re drenching my cock.” he groaned, hips snapping into you, the wet sounds filling the room.
Your moans turned breathless, your body trembling as the heat coiled tighter and tighter inside you. Unable to speak, you reached back, fingers searching for his hand. He caught the hint instantly, lacing your fingers together, holding you tight. “You’re close, baby?” he panted, slamming deeper.
You nodded desperately, muffled cries vibrating against his palm. “Go on, pretty,” he urged, his voice filled with need. “Let go for me—cum on this dick.” With just a few more thrusts, your body snapped, walls clenching down on him with a silent cry. Pleasure tore through you as your release gushed out, your cunt pulsing around him.
“Shit, baby—you’re so fucking tight.” he cursed, pulling his hand from your mouth just to watch your face twist in bliss. His eyes dropped down, catching the sight of his cock glistening, dripping with your release, and it pushed him over the edge. “Ngh—fuck—shit—I’m fucking cumming.” he groaned, burying himself deep as his warmth spilled into you.
You whimpered at the sensation, his hips grinding as he thrust through it, pushing his release deeper inside, his hands gripping and squeezing your ass. His chest pressed to your back, his heavy breathing fanning across your ear, both of you trembling as the aftershocks rolled through your bodies.
His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, “Lay on your back for me, baby.” You nodded, chest heaving, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling as you turned over. He was still buried inside you, the stretch almost overwhelming, and his gaze softened watching your state. “So fucking beautiful.” he murmured, leaning down to kiss your cheek.
Your heart melted at the tenderness in his voice, even with his cock still pulsing inside you. When he finally pulled out, you felt the hot spill of his release drip out of you, your hole fluttering around nothing. His eyes darkened as he watched it ooze out, and he let out a strained, “Fuuuck, baby.”
He spread it around your folds with his fingers, smearing his cum messily over your swollen slit, before pushing two fingers back inside. You whined at the overstimulation, body twitching under his touch. Hovering over you, he whispered, “You can take one more for me, yeah?” You nodded, biting down on your lip, and he smiled, eyes glinting. “My naughty girl.”
His fingers pumped in and out faster, deeper, while his thumb circled your clit. He leaned down to kiss you softly, but soon the kiss turned hungry, your whines and gasps spilling into his mouth as his hand worked you closer and closer. Your nails dug into his bicep, the pleasure overwhelming. “Sanni—m’gonna cum!” you cried against his lips. He hummed low in his throat. “Mm, let go, baby.” His hand moved faster, your body arching into his touch.
You kissed him hard, muffling your cries as you came again, clenching desperately around his fingers. He slowed them gradually, easing you down, until he finally slipped them out. You lay there breathless, cheeks burning red, chest rising and falling. He pressed another soft kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering. “Sorry, baby,” he chuckled, his voice tender. “I ruined your panties.”
a/n: this is inspired by a freaky audio i heard from @highway-143 i know im a gooner guys no need to mention it ◞‸◟
𓏸⠀ 𓈒 check out my masterlist .ᐟ get added in my taglist .ᐟ
camboy!taesan x viewer!femreader
w: smut, masturbation (m, f), switch!taesan, subish!reader, overstimulation, dick slapping, nipple play (m), pet names (princess, angel, baby), taesan calls himself a slut, reader wastes her money on taesan, mention of mcr, dirty talk, multiple orgasms | wc: 984 | might have typos | eng isn't my first language | mdni author's note: wrote this in february 😭😭
"ah– fuck–! just like that..!"
you stare gawk at the screen, face blushing at the image of the man jerking off in your laptop.
he gets a donation, making him lean in to the screen, his hoodie sliding down. "t-thanks for the– ah, fuck– the f-five dollars, elytramia.." he thanked the donator with a whimper, hand squeezing his tip, dribbling down some of his precum over his hand.
he relaxes on the gaming chair once again, throwing his head back as he lifted his hoodie up until his chest, revealing his faint abs and firm chest.
you knit your brows together, feeling like a pervert for watching him even though it was literally his job.
"shit..feels s' good, princess.." he moans, half lidded eyes looking straight at the camera. your face blush once again, feeling heat pool down on your abdomen.
his moans and whimpers are so loud you can barely listen to the my chemical romance song playing on the background.
he teases his tip with his thumb as he does the same with his nipple on the other hand. he rolls his eyes back, overstimulated as he was on his third round by now. his cum from the previous rounds slipping from his thighs down to his seat, making you clench your thighs together at the sinful sight.
you reached for your laptop hesitantly, typing on the keyboard quickly "pls take the hoodie off plsss" with a 15 dollar donation.
he chuckles as he reads the donation popping on the screen. "so desperate~" he purrs before taking off the garment, throwing it on the bed behind him.
he is completely naked now that the fabric was gone. he settles back into the chair, spreading his thighs a little wider as one of his legs rests on the arm chair.
he grabs his cock with both hands this time, twisting his wrists up and down as his mouth opens in a O shape, small whines and whimpers slipping out of it.
"fuck, angel, I'm s' close– gon' make a mess fo' you, princess." he groans out, voice cracking a little at the end.
he bites his lower lip as he tries his best not to get louder, the chat immediately filling up with comments telling him to be as loud as possible.
he smirks, lip still between his teeth, slowing down the pace on his cock, edging himself. "mm...I dunno...if only someone would donate right now..." he hums low.
you quickly type on your laptop as soon as he stops touching himself, turning around on his chair to grab his hoodie. "pls don't stop, pls make a mess" you donate 150 dollars, the highest he ever received.
his eyes widens at the number, making sure to quickly read your username. he quickly sets the hoodie aside, hand quickly coming to wrap around his throbbing dick.
"fuck, y/n, you must like me a l-lot." he moans out, a smirk tugging on his trembling lips.
you bite your lower lip as he moans your name, quickly hugging your legs to ease some relief.
he gives an experimental slap on his sensitive tip, making him buck up his hips, thrusting into his fist. "ohmygod–!"
"fuck– 'm cumming, I'm cumming–!" he whines out, a strangled sound tearing from his throat as he shoots white stripes of semen onto his chest, some dribbling down to his thighs.
his pupils are blown as he tries to recover his breath, a soft pink crawling his cheeks. he giggles softly as he sees the amount of cum resting all over his torso.
he collects the whiteish goo with three fingers, taking them to show the camera, spreading his fingers a little. he smears it on his red tip, a small squeak escaping his lips at the sudden stimulation.
he glides his cum along the side of his veiny shaft, thighs trembling. "fuuuuck.." he groans as his hand goes back to pump his abused cock.
his pace quickens up as some donations popped on the screen, encouraging him to keep going, some even calling him a slut and he obviously moaned in response.
"s-shit– yes, fuck, 'm a slut...your slut, f-fuck–!" he whimpers with absolutely no one in his mind, only his precious viewers <3
your heart hammers as you stare at the screen, a hand going under your pjs shorts, cupping your cunt and feeling the wet patch on your panties.
you pull your panties aside, slowly introducing a finger inside your pussy. fuck, you wished it was him instead.
you match his quick pace, your palm hitting your throbbing clit with each thrust, causing small whines to fall of your lips.
"fuck, baby, are you touching y-yourself?" he groans immediately as if he was watching you through your laptop's lens.
you whine in response. "fuck that pretty pussy for me, can you?" he moans, he free hand going back to tease his tip, the nail of his index finger poking his tiny slit, making him hiss.
"fuck– I wish you were here...fuck that little pussy open with m-my cock. you'd love that, huh?" he groans, a high-pitched moan coming from his lips after.
"jesus, baby, 'm close..." he moans, feeling the knot on his lower abdomen starts to unknit once again.
you feel your climax starts to build up embarrassingly fast too, the stimulation from your finger and palm being too much.
he squeezes his eyes shut as his mouth falls open, cock shooting more cum on his abs and hand.
you cum at the sight, a small whimper escaping your mouth. "fuck...taesan–!"
he lets out a small chuckle as he cleans himself with the tissues on his desk. letting out a small hiss as he clean his sensitive shaft.
you lean in again, wiping your finger on your sheets. slowly typing on your keyboard as you recovered yourself.
