peter parker x fem!reader | brand new day spoilers kinda
“Does it... What?” Peter laughed nervously, already naked and on top of you. “No! I mean—I mean I don’t think so.”
The night started like many others. Peter got home from saving people, slightly banged up but totally fine. You took care of him, made dinner and took a shower where you cleaned him up.
Which led to a small mid-shower makeout, which led to him eating you out, which led to now. In bed, with no clothes on.
The thought barely crossed your mind, but it came out before you could stop it.
He’d told you about all of his changes (kinda had to when his webs were all over your apartment) and you’d seen how incontrollable they still were. They were shooting out of him hard and fast and he was struggling to stop them.
So was it really that crazy for your brain to think ‘natural web shooting = web ejactulation = web cum?’
Apparently so because when the words, “Does it come out anywhere else?” slipped from your lips, Peter looked at you like he just watched his puppy get run over.
There was confusion, worry, and maybe a little bit of awkward ‘humor’ in his face. But even as he told you no, he didn’t look sure of himself anymore.
“Should we test that?” you asked, your voice low and sultry, trying to get the mood back. It worked, because you felt Peter’s still-hard cock twitch against your leg. “Yeah?”
He nodded, waiting for you to make a move.
If he was being honest, he didn’t know what you meant when you said to test it. He just knew that his very sexy girlfriend was talking about making him cum, so he agreed without thinking.
Watching as your hand snaked between your bodies, Peter’s heart was racing with anticipation. He wasn’t sure it would be safe for a normal person’s heart to be beating that fast.
Luckily, he wasn’t a normal person.
And he found that opened a lot of opportunities in the bedroom.
“You can go twice right? I still want you inside me after...” your voice was laced with need, almost pushing Peter over the edge right then and there. He nodded frantically, his hips twitching, pushing his aching cock against your palm.
“I can. I promise. Please just—” he cut himself off with a moan as your hand pumped and curled around his tip. “Fuck.”
Failing to hold in a giggle, a smile spread on your face that made Peter feel like he just fell in love with you all over again. Weird.
Your hand wrapped around him, giving him a few teasingly slow strokes before you scooted backwards enough to wrap your mouth around his sensitive pink tip. You started to up your pace while your mouth sank further down, taking more of him in.
Bringing him closer and closer to the edge, he felt the same internal panic he did when the webs came out of his wrists for the first time. But you didn’t stop. No. You only went harder.
Peter barely pulled you off at the last second, watching as webs came out of his cock and splattered on the ceiling.
It was probably the best orgasm he’d ever had.
The relief when it was over, the pleasure he felt during it. All of it. His curls were sticking to the sweat on his forehead, and when he looked over you were staring at him with wide eyes.
Wide, excited, horny eyes. (He could tell).
“That was so hot, oh my god,” you squealed, wiping off the last string of web from his extremely sensitive cock. A strangled noise came from his throat, overwhelmed by the strong feeling.
“Oh jesus,” he whispered, trying to catch his breath. “I think I need just a minute. It’s really, really sensitive.”
You nodded, running your hands over his curls. He smiled, his head subconsciously leaning into your hand. Before you knew it, Peter was pulling you down to kiss him again, all wet and open-mouthed. His hands were roaming your body, reclosing the gap.
One of your legs swung over him, straddling his abdomin that was glistening with a sheer layer of sweat. You were careful not to go too far back until Peter was ready, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t rock yourself against him.
The hard ridges of his ab muscles were perfect for grinding your clit against, and not to mention Peter loved it. He didn’t realize how much he liked the praise until he met you.
“That’s it. Uh-huh,” he mumbled as he helped you guide yourself against him. Sweet noises were falling from your open mouth as you ran your slick pussy over his stomach.
One of his hands ran up, kneading your tits while the other stayed and grabbed at your ass—helping spread you open to get a better feel of him. You could feel your second orgasm of the night quickly approaching, but you wanted to save it.
Halting your hips was hard, you really didn’t want to stop, but you knew you’d be happier if you came with Peter inside you.
“Are you ready?” your voice was breathless and whiney, your eyes hooded and glazed over with need. He flipped you onto your back, pulling a cute squeak from your throat.
“Uh-huh.” Leaving open kisses down your neck, he asked, “But are you ready?” against your sticky skin.
You felt yourself squeeze around nothing. “Yeah.”
He pressed one last kiss to your neck before you felt his long cock stretch you out. You could feel every ridge, every vein, as he slid into you so far you felt like it would come out your mouth.
Your mouth was stuck open, tears from the pleasure welling up in your eyes. Peter felt your nails dig into his back as he started at a slow pace. It wasn’t gentle, but it was just enough to refamiliarize yourself with him.
As the seconds passed, you needed more and more. Trying to grind your hips up and meet him halfway for more pressure, more speed, wasn’t cutting it. You needed his all.
“Peter. Oh my, fuck. Peter, please. I need more. I can handle it,” you moaned as he thrusted, your eyes meeting his so he could see the truthfulness in your eyes. That you would really be okay if he went harder.
He was always scared of hurting you, so he needed that confirmation every time.
His pace sped up along with his thrusts’ power. After only a few seconds, he was fucking you into the mattress. Moans and heavy breaths were spilling out of your mouth, along with Peter’s grunts and moans himself.
The bed was squeaking, a dull thud against the wooden wall for every thrust he gave you. “Shit,” Peter grumbled, looking at something behind your head for only a second.
You could feel your second orgasm coming back, along with Peter’s antsy hands. They were moving from beside your head, to your waist, to your legs—pushing your legs further apart and hitting an even deeper angle.
Your moaning only spurred him on, his hand coming to rub circles to your clit. He felt you squeeze and flutter around him, your eyes and face scrunched up.
He felt his own orgasm coming up, but he was determined to focus on you. Your shaky legs and light knuckles from gripping the sheets too hard. Your short breaths and teary eyes.
“C’mon. Come for me,” he whispered as you felt yourself go over the edge. Your hips twitched and your pussy squeezed him unbearably tight, followed by his warm liquid leaking inside you.
The thought of his web-sperm mix you saw earlier being inside you made you flutter around him again.
He had the same sensitivity as before, hissing through his teeth as he dropped his head to your neck. He relaxed his body on top of you, too sensitive to move or pull out yet.
His weight and heat on top of you was a common feeling, but it was one of your favorites.
You loved having him lay on top of you, especially right after sex. “Thank you,” you mumbled against his hair, your fingers gently rubbing up and down his rigid back muscles. You could feel him twitching and softening inside you, an almost ticklish feeling.
Peter hummed before laughing and whispering, “Also, uh, we might need a new bed, by the way.”
masterlist
note this isn’t proofread so if there’s any mistakes 🤫 (or lmk and i’ll fix em!)
summary: peter parker breaks into your apartment (on accident). it's snowing. he can't see that well.
w/c: 1.3k
a/n: hellooooo it's time i started writing for peter. i needed to add another sad white boy to my arsenal. this'll have another part to it coming sooooon :)
.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖ requests are open (as always), likes, comments, & reblogs are much appreciated !
The first time Peter Parker breaks into your apartment, it’s snowing outside.
It isn’t an intentional break-in, really— just an unfortunate miscalculation of floors due to limited visibility because of the snow. He only notices that he’s in the wrong apartment when he clicks the window shut, turns around, and sees you.
Your computer sits open on the coffee table, the old plush of your worn loveseat dipping beneath your weight. It seems to him like you’re in the middle of something, based on the way your fingers move tirelessly scrawling something in the notebook on your lap. It also seems like you’d barely noticed his arrival.
Peter stands awkwardly by the window, hands drumming at his sides. Should he wait for you to notice him? Should he leave before you do? He decides that it’s probably better that Spider-Man doesn’t gain the reputation of breaking into girls’ apartments and starts to pull the window open from the bottom, when—
“What are you doing here?”
He whips around to face you. You’re standing now, notebook and blanket thrown haphazardly to the floor at the sudden motion. You’ve got this shocked look on your face, because obviously it’s normal to be shocked when a masked vigilante breaks into your apartment. He curses himself internally and watches as your eyes scan the apartment.
“Is— is something going on? Am I in trouble?” You ask.
“No!” Peter interjects, and when you flinch at the volume of his voice, lowers it and holds his arms out in front of himself, “No, no! I just, uh— this is the, uh… it’s wrong.”
“It’s… wrong?” You echo.
What an idiot. He’s got such a way with words. If E.V. doesn’t play this on loop to embarrass him later, his brain will do it for her.
With a rapid flailing of his arms, he clarifies: “No! I mean, it— it’s wrong, because this isn’t my apartment.”
By the look on your face, you’re not as terrified by the intrusion as before. A small smile creeps onto your lips as you glance around, almost as if to prove his point. “Well, yeah, dude. I could’ve told you that.”
He inhales deeply. Exhales like he’s blowing away his inability to speak. Emphasizes every word like he’s trying to correct himself. “I am not in my apartment.”
At this point, you’re not as on guard as you were. Wordlessly, you sit back down, pulling the blanket over your legs and lifting the notebook from the ground. Your hand resumes its busy motion of writing in the notebook, gaze focusing back on the laptop screen that illuminates your figure.
You’ve, seemingly, gone back to work. Peter has not. He stands there like an idiot.
After a moment, you cock an eyebrow at him. “You good?”
His face is probably scarlet— not that you’d even be able to tell through the already red fabric of his mask, but it’s the pure notion of it. He opens his mouth once, twice, trying to get any semblance of a coherent sentence to tumble from his mouth. “I’m— I’m going to leave now.”
You smile— wide, genuine, a laugh huffing through your nose as you do. “See you, Spidey.”
Peter fumbles with the already open window, blindly shoots a web, and swings back out.
The second time he breaks in, it’s pouring.
He’s absolutely sure, even with the fact that he can barely see the building with the rain beating down on him, that he’s made it into the right apartment this time. There’s no way that would happen again. He’s absolutely sure of it.
That is, until his feet land on an unfamiliar floor and the smell of vodka sauce floats in the air. A spoon clatters on the kitchen counter.
“We have got to stop meeting like this.”
It’s you, wrong-apartment-girl from before. He did it again. Son of a bitch.
Footsteps pad through your apartment and as he begins to lift his head to glance around, he notices that he’s dripping water all over your floor. A thought from May creeps into the forefront of his mind, something about ice cubes and water and hardwood floors. He quickly goes to stand off the hardwood to save the floors, but then realizes he’s now leaking water all over your nice rug.
You return from what he presumes to be the bathroom or the bedroom with two green bath towels in your hands. You hand one to Peter, which he gratefully wraps around himself, and drop the other to the puddle of water on the hardwood.
“Sorry about that, by— by the way. And— about this.”
After pushing around the towel on the floor with your foot, you pad back to the kitchen and start to stir the saucepan again. “What? You mean the fact that you keep breaking into my apartment?”
“It’s not on purpose, I promise!” He stutters, hands moving so fast that the towel nearly falls to the ground. “It’s just— the weather, and I miscounted, and—”
“Relax. I’m joking.” You say, turning off the burner beneath a pot of noodles. “Would you come strain this for me? Colander’s in the sink.”
Peter, to his own horror, obeys. He walks to the kitchen, slips on two green gingham-patterned oven mitts, and watches as the pasta produces a cloud of steam above the colander.
“Rigatoni? That’s— a good choice.” He says, small, and realizes at this moment how ridiculous he must look: Spider-Man, wielding no weapon but two oven mitts, marveling at your chosen type of pasta.
“Yeah? Thanks.” You laugh, ensuring that each burner knob is set to off. A clinking of dishes sounds from behind, and as Peter turns, he’s met with two flower-patterned ceramic bowls on the counter top. “Wanna stay for dinner? I probably made too much for just me, anyways.”
At first, he’s hesitant. He broke into your apartment, and you’re asking him to have dinner with you? It’s all backwards— not that he’s ever enact it in the forwards way, anyways, but regardless.
At his lack of response, you smile and pour the strained pasta from the colander to the pot. “What, no time to eat? Old lady stuck in a tree, or something?”
He can’t help but laugh at your joke. What else has he got to do, anyways? It’s not like he’s got anyone at home to have dinner with. “I’ll have some. That’d— that’d be nice.”
Peter pulls his mask up to eat, barely above his lips. He’s cautious about lowering it in between bites as you sit across from him at your small table. He notices you stab multiple noodles onto your fork and bite down on them, fork now clean.
“So… Spider-Man.”
“So…” Peter echoes, voice trailing off slightly. “I don’t think I ever caught your name.”
“And I don’t think I ever caught yours.” You say, grinning, eyes shining as you corner him with words.
Peter huffs a laugh. “Touché.”
A rigatoni-filled silence passes while you both continue to eat. “Fine. Keep your secrets. Remain mysterious.”
“That’s the plan.” Peter grins. He gestures up and down to himself with his fork. “Masked vigilante? It’s… kinda my whole thing.”
“I get it.” You say, stabbing a few more noodles with your fork. “Anonymity is key.”
“Exactly.” He answers. After a few moments, he speaks again. “I still didn’t get your name.”
You don’t answer. You shrug, grinning as you finish off the noodles in your bowl. The way you’ve chosen to deflect the topic makes him laugh. “What? Am I just gonna call you wrong-apartment-girl forever?”
You laugh too. “Hey! If anything, my name should be totally-innocent-repeat-victim-of-home-invasions-girl!”
“That’s… something. Very wordy.”
“Well, not all of us can be Spider-Man.”
As if on cue, his phone beeps: Bank robbery. 51st street. What an appropriate reminder.
Peter stands, firmly tugging his mask back into place as he deposits his bowl in your kitchen sink. You smile at him from the kitchen table.
“Stay dry out there, Spider-Man.”
He tugs open the window and plunges into the rain once more.
hiii, can I request a Peter Parker fic where you (Reader acting as MJ) can calm down his arachnid hormone levels with just your touch :)
human touch calms the soul-p.parker x f!reader 🕷️🕸️
a/n: hii, yes ofc. i hope you like the route i took with it! i originally planned on writing a short blurb, but something possessed me to make this a full blown fic, oops. i might do a pt.2, i’m not sure yet! p.p. m.list main m.list
wc: ~2.4k
summary: after spiderman randomly showed up at your apartment building, urging you to come with him as he claimed you were in danger, you found yourself helping him fix an inhibitor to repress the new spike in his arachnid hormone me levels—only to discover that your touch seemed to have a similar effect.
cw: spoilers for brand new day! slight angst, possibly inaccurate use of movie terms, lovers to strangers, mj and ned mention, cliffhanger ending?
many emotions ran through you as you stared up at the roof, laying on a bed in frank’s house, talking with the masked vigilante—no, hero—that new york city grew to love. never in a million years would you have ever imagined yourself in this situation, only here under spider-man’s urgent need to keep you safe from danger. what danger, you had no clue. he couldn’t explain it nor tell you, all that you knew was this was the safest place you could possibly be, swinging you from the comfort of your apartment all the way here.
“hey, do you think it’s a good idea to call someone and let them know i’m safe?”
his heart ached at the concern and worry in your voice, you were that type of girl, always worrying about others before yourself.
“uh, like your boyfriend?”
his question was followed by a confused hum from you and it killed him to imagine the way your brows furrowed and head tilted in confusion. you shook your head, even if he couldn’t see you through the curtain, letting out an awkward chuckle.
“no, like my roommates. i just them to know that i didn’t just leave or go missing or get kidnapped—” you cut yourself off with a amused scoff despite your worry, “well, kidnapped by someone dangerous.” there it was, that slightly teasing and playful tilt in your voice that he missed so dearly. he missed the way you always had something smart to say or the way you always made a joke at the worst possible times.
he chuckled under his breath, noting the irony that he did technically kidnap you, if you didn’t count the way you agreed last second.
“you know, i don’t think that’s a good idea, considering she can get in your roommates minds, find out where you are…” he trailed off, but you got the hint, nodding once again, forgetting he couldn’t see you.
“no, yeah, right, i get it.” you mumbled, letting the silence overtake the room. you couldn’t help how it was the perfect mixture of awkward yet comfortable. however, ever the talker, you felt the need to film the silence with chatter. after all, this might be the only time you talk to the spiderman, you had to take the chance!
“so what about you?” you started off, playing with the pretty dahila necklace, a nervous habit you couldn’t seem to get rid off. hearing his hum of acknowledgment, you took it as a sign to continue “you know i have a boyfriend, but what about you? do you have a mrs. spiderman in your life? someone who knows you behind that mask.”
you heard him pause what he was doing, before a soft laugh left his lips, causing you to sit up. it was the second time you made spiderman laugh and you couldn’t help the way it warmed your heart. “or a mr. spiderman too. don’t know what you like.” you quickly added, a bit confused as to why he was laughing. however, that only seemed to make him laugh harder.
“no, no, it’s nothing like that.” he laughed softly, pausing as a tense silence filled the room. you were about to backtrack, sensing it wasn’t as light of a topic as you assumed, even through his giddy laugh that didn’t make sense to you.
“i did. there was someone.”
you wanted to drop the topic, assure the masked hero that he really didn’t have to talk about it after you sensed the underlying sorrow in his words. yet, your mouth had another plan, words tumbling out so quiet and soft “did? what happened?”
after a few beats of pure quietness, he finally spoke up again. “i had to let her go. to keep her safe.”
as you processed his words, you couldn’t figure out why he was being so honest with you, what made you so trustworthy. “i’m sorry, that must’ve been really hard for you.” the silence between you wasn’t comfortable or nervous more, it was filled with a sense of sorrow yet understanding.
“it was,” he paused, “it is.”
you weren’t sure how to drift the conversation from such an obviously sensitive, emotional topic to anything more lighthearted, only speaking up once more when you heard him shuffle around as he worked on the inhibitor.
“how’s the chip going?” you asked quietly, testing the waters, ready to be quiet again if you sensed he was still reminiscing about his girl. he noticed it and appreciated it, it was one of the many things he loved about you. you were always so aware and careful.
you heard a groan of frustration that wasn’t targeted at you, which made you quietly chuckle under your breath, swinging your legs over the bed. that was all the response you needed, clearly he needed help.
“okay, im coming over.” upon hearing your voice and footsteps, peter panicked, reaching over his mask as he quickly slipped it on, wanting to keep his identity a secret—even if you didn’t remember him. “wait, wait, don’t-”
you raised a brow, staring at him, now covered by his mask, a confused “o-kayy” leaving your lips as you took in all the gadgets in front of him, brows furrowing as you stepped closer. “you did this?” the awe in your voice wasn’t lost on him, reminding him of the countless times his intelligence amazed you.
the anonymous hero in front of you sighed, nodding, “yeah, but i can’t seem to get it past this issue.” peter trailed off as he watched you take it in, noticing his vitals and the mix of human and spider dna, an amused smile on your lips. “oh wow, that’s a lot of arachnid dna. is that why you need the chip?” it was a good thing he had a mask on or you would’ve definitely noticed the way he looked at you with such softness, distracted by having you so close and curious after years of watching you from afar, only snapping out of it when you called his name—well, his hero name.
“huh? oh right? yeah, i just can’t get past this one issue, it keeps overheating.” processing his words as you looked everything over, trying to figure out something logical to help out. “have you considered that maybe it’s the thermal dissipation? like when you sweat or maybe a magnetic field…” you trailed off, having a brief knowledge on the topic, thanks to your roommates and their engineering experience.
he smiled under the mask, admiring your need to help despite your limited knowledge on the subject. “i thought that too at first but i accounted for that.”
you felt your cheeks heat up sheepishly, muttering under your breath, “of course you did.” suddenly another idea popped into your mind, “what about your suit?”
you looked up at him with such hope that you were getting somewhere, slightly proud of yourself for being able to help to the best of your ability, that he really didn’t want to let you down. spiderman smiled, though you couldn’t see, running his hands down the front of his suit, “oh, it actually dissipates into the fabric, which is pretty cool.”
“oh,” it took you a minute before you gasped, a sudden realization coming to your mind. “what about those?” before you could stop yourself, your hand was reaching out towards his face, cupping his cheek as you moved his head, analyzing the mask goggles. “your goggles, they have a magnetic field, right? that must be what’s overlapping with-“
you cut yourself off with a scared gasp as spider-man’s technological assistant, e.v. announced that the arachnid hormone levels in his body were decreasing. quickly, you pulled your hand back, alarmed and puzzled as to how the hormone levels went down without the inhibitor.
before your brain could catch up and hash out any logical explanation, e.v. reassessed his hormone levels, alerting the room that the arachnid dna levels were rising once more. you were at a loss, looking over at him, head tilted in confusion—a quirk of yours he could never forget. “has that ever happened before?”
spiderman shook his head, just as perplexed as you. “no. no, the only way i’ve been able to lower the spider dna was with the inhibitor.”
“that doesn’t make any sense then. if you don’t have the inhibitor on then what could it have been?” you mumbled, reaching out to inspect his goggles once more, taking a moment to stare at him, a flicker of familiarity that you couldn’t place your finger on flowing through your mind. you were cut out of your thoughts, mystified by the sudden feeling, when e.v. reported that the arachnid levels lowered once more.
it hit you then, a hypothesis forming itself as you removed your hand, noting that your touch seemed to be the common factor when the levels dropped. it felt silly to throw out, so you tried to take a more subtle approach, testing out your theory. it surely couldn’t be your touch affecting the hormone levels, could it?
“spiderman?” the hesitation was so loud in your quiet tone, feeling slightly ridiculous at the idea that your physical touch could be acting as a diy inhibitor “can i try something?”
once you got his approval, you reached out once more, taking note of how the hormone levels—and he—reacted to the feeling of your fingers on him. you let out a relieved giggle, shocked by your own revelation, apprehensive to share your discovery.
“i think i might’ve figured out what’s affecting your hormone level, and it doesn’t make sense, so im going to need you to help me figure this out, okay?”
you were rambling, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him, a trait of yours he yearned to listen to forever once more.
“hey, hey, anything helps, what is it? no judgement.” his reassure calmed your nerves a bit, his hands coming to your shoulders as you took a deep breath.
looking away, you admitted your observation, “it’s silly, but i think that when i touch you, the arachnid hormones in your dna decrease. i don’t know if it’s human contact or what, but something about it is stabilizing it. can your uh, what’s it called? your tech thing, can it-she-analyze other vitals? maybe your body temperature drops when someone touches you so the hormone levels decrease too? maybe it’s a spider thing-“
once again, he was forever grateful his mask covered the way his cheeks reddened and the absolute star struck look on his face, admiring you—his smart girl. his body ached with how much he missed you and how badly he wanted to praise your intelligence how he used to.
“what?” he had the dumbest smile on his face as you went on, making you pause as you heard the slight amusement in his tone.
“look, i know it sounds really really weird, but just consider it, okay?” you were starting to rethink your hypothesis. the last thing you wanted was to look like an idiot in front of spiderman.
obviously, he noticed your slight embarrassment, quick to shake his head, “no! no! i don’t think it’s weird! i think it’s really smart actually.”
the way your eyes lit up was worth it and he didn’t have the heart to tell you that it could’ve just been your presence and touch—that he found so calming—that was stabilizing everything, not just any random human touch. “really?” you chirped, eager and excited that you made such a connection.
“yes, really!” he encouraged you, a smile overtaking your face, slightly flustered at the praise you were receiving from new york’s most admired hero. “tell you what, why don’t you help me fix the inhibitor mimic that, yeah?”
you nodded, antsy to get to work before you remembered, you didn’t really know too much about engineering, at least not applied. yet, you didn’t want to let him down, remembering what you’ve seen from mj and ned before and replicating that to the best of your skills.
once finished, you handed him the chip, wide, proud eyes looking up at him, “here, try it.” you watched his body relax as he lifted his mask, exposing his neck to put the inhibitor on it.
“that feels so much better.” he sighed, before looking at you. “you’re a genius, how did you know how to do that?”
bashful, you shrugged, “learned from my roommates, they’re both engineering nerds.” you admitted, remaining humble and giving credit where credit is due, grateful for mj and ned’s help—even if they had no clue how much they assisted you.
suddenly, you gasped, “oh my goodness, ned’s gonna flip when i tell him i helped spiderman! sorry, you don’t know him, he’s like one of my best friends, he’s a huge fan—not in a weird way! dude, mj’s so not gonna believe this.”
your enthusiasm warmed his heart, yet it was bittersweet as he thought about how none of you remembered who he was past spiderman—you had no clue who peter parker was and how much you meant to him.
“wait, wait, sorry, can i tell them? i promise they won’t tell anyone!”
the way you stared up at him, doe eyes filled with excitement and joy, made it difficult to say no. shaking his head, entertained by your antics, he relented. “just them, alright?”
“yeah, i promise!” nodding, in the mist of your flurry of emotions, you didn’t think twice before hugging him, overtaken by something so random.
as soon as you realized what you did, you quickly peeled away, just as you felt him tense up, assuming you crossed some boundary—unaware of the war in his mind and the dread as he realized he missed his chance to finally hold you.
“i’m so sorry, i-i don’t know what that was, i swear i don’t usually go hugging strangers.”
there it was, strangers. that’s all he was to you now. everyday he regretted the spell, wanting nothing more than to admit everything like he promised he would. but he knew how crazy everything would sound to you—though something in him told him you’d believe him, you always did.
“it’s fine, you’re fine. i should get going. stay here, don’t leave.”
you’ve never heard spiderman so nervous, or rushed, like right now. nonetheless, you nodded, that odd sense of familiarity creeping into your chest again. where did you know him from?
“uh, yeah, no i’ll stay here.” you mumbled, blinking back into reality, mind wrecked as you couldn’t brush off the strange feeling consuming you all of a sudden.
watching him rush out with a quick glance over you—as if you would disappear out of nowhere—you were left there, sitting back down on the bed, contemplating the sudden ache in your chest. what the hell just happened?
Hi! Can I request a Peter Parker X Stark! reader and she wants to try on Pete’s spidery suit and web shooters and he thinks she looks really good in it so he kisses her and Tony comes in and thinks they’re doing some weird type of role play?❤️
Hello there! I had so much fun writing this one! I'll probably say it turned out to be one of my favourite fics. Thanks for requesting! Hope you enjoy reading it too.
Summary → You blackmail Peter into letting you try on his Spider-Man suit. It fits too well, leading to making out—and Tony walking in.
"Pleeeaaase, Pete?" You whined, leaning over his desk with the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.
Peter didn’t even look up from his notes, his pen gliding across the page. "Nope."
You groaned dramatically, throwing yourself back onto his bed. "Why not?! I'm the one who worked on half of your suit!"
"Keyword: half," Peter quipped, turning his chair slightly to smirk at you. "Mr. Stark did the heavy lifting, and, oh yeah—it’s my suit."
You sat up on your elbows, pouting. "That’s not fair! I bet it would look so cool on me."
"It’s not about looking cool, babe," he said, finally turning to fully face you. "It’s dangerous tech, Y/N. The suit has all kinds of built-in features, and I don’t want you accidentally webbing yourself to the ceiling or activating instant-kill mode."
You rolled your eyes. "As if I don’t know how the tech works! I built most of it with Dad. I probably understand the suit better than you do."
Peter gave you an unimpressed look. "That’s debatable."
Frustrated, you crossed your arms. If begging didn’t work, it was time for drastic measures. You sat up, narrowed your eyes at him, and smirked. "Fine. You leave me no choice."
Peter arched a brow. "Uh-oh."
You stood up, placed your hands on your hips, and announced, "No kisses for a month."
Peter froze. "Wait. What?"
You grinned, seeing his reaction. "Yep. No kisses. No sex. No cuddles. No cute little nose nuzzles. No hand-holding. No forehead kisses. Nothing."
His jaw dropped. "That’s—That’s cruel and unusual punishment!"
You fake-sighed, placing a hand over your heart. "Well, if my boyfriend refuses to let me try on the suit that I worked on, then I guess I have no choice but to take extreme action."
Peter looked genuinely distressed now, running a hand through his curls. "That’s so unfair. You can’t just—"
"And!" You interrupted, pointing an accusing finger at him. "You’re so ungrateful! I spend hours helping you upgrade that thing, and you won’t even let me try it for five minutes?" You dramatically turned away, placing a hand over your forehead. "Oh, the betrayal!"
Peter groaned loudly. "Ugh! Fine! "
You immediately spun around, grinning. "Wait, really?"
He gave you a deadpan look. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just—just don’t break anything, okay?"
You let out an excited squeal, doing a little happy dance before rushing over to grab the suit from where he pulled it out of his closet. "This is the best day of my life!"
Peter crossed his arms, watching you with a defeated sigh. "You’re ridiculous."
"You love me."
"Unfortunately, yes."
You snickered before holding the suit up in front of you, inspecting it. The fabric was smooth under your fingers. "Ooooh, I feel powerful already."
Peter rolled his eyes. "Okay, just—put it on already before I change my mind."
You nodded and started unzipping your hoodie, shrugging it off before kicking off your sweatpants. You were left in just your bra and panties when you noticed Peter had gone completely silent.
You turned to see him staring.
Blatantly.
His lips were parted slightly, his brown eyes locked onto your figure as if he had just seen the most captivating thing in the world.
You smirked. "Pete."
No response.
You snapped your fingers. "Peter Parker, my eyes are up here."
He blinked rapidly, his face immediately flushing. "I-I wasn’t—! I was just—!"
You crossed your arms, tilting your head playfully. "Just what?"
"Admiring my girlfriend," he admitted, looking sheepish but utterly smitten.
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn't hide your grin. "Uh-huh. Sure, Romeo. Now turn around."
Peter huffed dramatically but turned his back to you. "You act like I haven’t seen you in less."
"Yeah, well, you don’t get to ogle while I’m trying to be Spider-Woman for the day," you quipped, stepping into the suit.
As soon as you pulled it up over your shoulders, it felt huge. The fabric sagged, the arms hung loosely, and the legs were way too long. "Oh my God, Peter, your body proportions are so weird."
He laughed. "Hey! I have a perfectly normal body proportion, thank you very much."
You pouted, looking down at yourself. "It’s so baggy! Ugh, I look ridiculous."
Peter turned around, smirking. "You could always take it off."
You shot him a look. "Nice try." Then, you pressed the spider emblem on your chest.
Immediately, the suit shrank.
The fabric adjusted perfectly to your body, molding to every curve, every inch of your skin. Your stomach, chest, legs—everything was snug.
Peter stopped mid-breath.
His eyes traveled from your legs to your ass to your chest, and suddenly, his Adam’s apple bobbed. "Uh…"
You turned to the mirror, blinking. "Oh. Damn."
The suit hugged you perfectly. The fabric stretched in all the right places, highlighting every dip and curve of your body. Your ass? Amazing. Your boobs? Fantastic.
Peter made a strangled noise.
You turned to him with a smirk. "You okay there, bug boy?"
His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Then, without a single word, he took two long strides forward, cupped your face, and kissed you.
It wasn’t just a peck. No, Peter devoured you, his lips molding against yours hungrily. His hands found their way to your jaw and waist, pulling you against him as he deepened the kiss.
Your hands gripped his shoulders, melting into him as he pressed you against the wall. His hands started wandering—one settling on your jaw, tilting your head up, while the other slid down to firmly grab your ass.
You gasped into the kiss, breaking apart for just a second. "P-Peter—"
"You look so hot in my suit," he mumbled against your lips, kissing you again, voice breathless and desperate.
You giggled between kisses. "I knew it!"
Peter groaned, nipping at your bottom lip as his hands squeezed your ass. "Not fair," he muttered, moving down to your jaw, leaving soft kisses.
You shivered, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I mean, if you wanna keep making out with me in your suit, I’m not stopping you—"
Then.
The door opened.
"Ay, kid, I need Y/N for a sec—WHAT THE HELL?!"
You and Peter immediately froze.
Your dad, Tony Stark, stood in the doorway, eyes wide, mouth open, looking horrified.
You and Peter were practically glued together—your arms around his neck, his hands on your ass, both of you looking like deer caught in headlights.
Tony blinked. "What. The. Actual. Fuck."
"Dad!" You yelped, shoving Peter off you.
Tony raised his hands, shaking his head rapidly. "Nope. Nope. Nope. I do not wanna know why you’re in the Spidey suit and sucking face with Spiderling. I do not wanna know what kinda freaky roleplay stuff you two are into."
You turned bright red. "IT’S NOT—"
"Oh my God," Tony muttered, rubbing his temples. "I need bleach. No, I need therapy. I need Pepper."
Peter, looking about five seconds away from fainting, squeaked out, "M-Mr. Stark, I—I swear—"
Tony pointed at him. "You. Out."
Peter blinked. "But… this is my room—"
Tony turned his glare up to maximum dad mode, eyes narrowing dangerously.
Peter swallowed hard. "I'm out."
And with that, he bolted straight out of the door.
"You. Family meeting. Now."
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Kill me now."
Tony sighed, mumbling to himself as he walked away. "Why couldn't she date a nice, normal guy from down the street?"
From the hallway, Peter called out, "I am a nice, normal guy!"
I finally got around to watch the new Spiderman movie today with my friends and whilst I may make a short fic out of this in the next few days, right now I’d just like to ramble a bit. With the movie having very much addressed that Peter Parker’s DNA is currently mutating and that his hormones are shifting, I think it is time to introduce the idea that Peter Parker’s shift towards arachnid hormones ends up with him mimicking male spider’s mating rituals to impress the reader. Female arachnids usually devour the male one’s after they’ve successfully mated and as much as I love and will also definitely introduce Peter’s more feral side due to his increased mutation, I would very much like to keep this idea of him being more cautious due to his spider instincts.
My personal favorite idea for this is that this is how Peter himself realizes completely just how much he’s fallen in love. As Spiderman he is constantly ignoring his feelings as Peter Parker and with everything that has recently happened, he’s been so stressed too that he barely had time to stay still and realize that he’s been so busy grieving after the people he lost and had to let go that he hasn’t even realized that there’s someone else who has ensnared him in her net. It takes him genetically mutating to finally realize it as his instincts now guide him, especially at the beginning where he struggles to control himself. So he begins to spin large nets in front of your windows, he tracks down your chemical pheromones to stalk you, he begins to synchronize with your own movements or may even do his own variations of mating dances (yes, some male spiders put on a whole performance to impress the females) and of course he also brings you presents wrapped in thick and sticky organic web, always glued right next to your window. Male spiders usually deliver prey and I’m not about to dismiss that sometimes when you have difficulties with co-workers or bump into unpleasant people who harass you that you won’t find said culprits dangling upside down down the street, shouting apologies to everyone they’ve ever wronged. Most of the time it’s just flowers or books though it takes minutes until you’ve managed to pull them out of the sticky web.
Peter on the other hand usually only feels the embarrassment creeping up on him once his hormones have balanced out enough for him to act somewhat normally again. It’s ironic how he could easily break cars in half if he wanted to yet whenever his arachnid hormones spike his instincts usually caution him that he needs to appease and impress you first and foremost before he can continue to court you within closer proximity and introducing himself. However, competition will be scared away. He will not tolerate any other potential mate within your proximity.
This is a yap session so scroll if you feel so inclined to.
As a person who reads fanfiction you are not going to catch me complaining about what it is that people are writing. I am an AVID consumer of ‘x reader’ fanfiction and l hate to see people complain about “too much smut” or “messy writing” you guys have NO RIGHT to complain about the things that people write as a HOBBY for FUN. It infuriates me to see so many people shit on authors who write smut. I’ve seen so many authors say that it’s the only way to get people to interact with what they write. Or they could just LIKE writing smut. There are so many phenomenal writers on this app who could give you exactly what you’re looking for. You guys have become too prideful. A lot of you will say “ Well I’m the consumer so l have a right to criticize what I’m consuming.” or “Well l can say something because where would they be without me?” You guys have to check yourselves. Unless an author specifies that they are open to criticism do NOT give it. It is rude and uncalled for when people work so hard. It’s the same as someone showing you their art and the first thing you say is “the lines are too crooked”. Enjoy or scroll. Don’t be an asshole.
Peter Parker who takes the inhibitor off for one night because the constant suppression is driving him insane.
Peter Parker who doesn’t even make it to the bedroom. The second the device hits the floor he’s on you—mouth on your throat, hands already yanking your clothes open, organic webs shooting out to pin your wrists above your head against the wall.
Peter Parker who growls when you gasp, like the sound alone is too much. Who bites down on the soft spot under your jaw hard enough to leave a mark and then licks over it like he’s apologizing and claiming you at the same time.
Peter Parker who spreads your legs with his knee and shoves two fingers into you without warning, curling them deep, watching your face the whole time with those black-edged eyes. “Fuck—sorry, I just—need to feel you open for me.” Then he adds a third finger and doesn’t look sorry at all.
Peter Parker who fucks into you the second you’re wet enough, one hard thrust that steals your breath. Who keeps one hand fisted in your hair and the other gripping your thigh so tight the webs start sticking to your skin. Who mutters broken little apologies against your mouth between every snap of his hips—“sorry, sorry, I can’t stop, you feel too good, I’m sorry—” and then drives in deeper anyway.
Peter Parker who doesn’t pull out when he comes. Who stays buried to the hilt and keeps grinding through it until you’re shaking and oversensitive and leaking around him. Who finally looks at you with something almost scared in his eyes and whispers, “I took it off. Just for tonight. Just for you.”
Peter Parker who still doesn’t put the inhibitor back on after. Who carries you to the bed, webs your ankles open, and starts all over again—slower this time, but no less rough. Who fills you a second time and then a third, until the sheets are a mess and your thighs are shiny and he’s finally quiet against your neck, breathing like a man who just remembered how to be human.
Peter Parker who leaves the device on the floor until morning. And when you wake up sore and marked and still full of him, he looks at you like he’s already thinking about taking it off again.
A/N: This is completely random, but I can't shake off the feeling that he's a predator, lmao :D
