heyy! I'd love to see one where it's like a super hot summer day and reader makes peter as spiderman a lemonade and lets him chill in her apartment for a bit to escape the heat while he's on patrol :D
this request is old (i am so sorry, thank u for ur patience with me always) but i hope you love it still <3 | 0.8k of fluff
New York seems to be radiating heat today.
The streets seem to lack their usual, incessant buzz, everyone staying in the safety of air conditioning or gathering in parks or by the water where the breeze feels cooler.
Unfortunately, your apartment, an old unit with creaky floors and exposed brick walls, has no AC to save you.
Your ceiling fan whirs at the highest speed, shaking a little bit against the ceiling. Your living room window is cracked, too, and you can’t decide if it’s making things better or worse. You’ve probably opened and closed it three times by now.
You sit on the edge of the couch, the fabric uncomfortable against your sticky skin. Just as you’re readjusting your position, a thump sounds outside, the metal of the fire escape whining.
Welcoming the distraction, you stand, walk over to your window, and pull it the rest of the way open, peaking your head out, elbows leaning against the windowsill.
The last thing you’d been expecting was the city’s famous vigilante sitting on your neighbor’s fire escape, his chest rising and falling quickly beneath his suit. He must be dying in that thing, you think.
So, you call, “Hey Spider-boy!”
Peter’s head flicks over to you immediately, completely surprised by the sound of your voice. Surprised. Something he hasn’t been in a very long time.
He’s surprised all over again when he sees how pretty you are.
“It’s, uh, Spider-man, actually,” he manages to get out.
“Okay, Spider-man,” you exaggerate the last part, “you wanna come in? Escape the heat a little bit. I’ve got a ceiling fan and a working freezer, take it or leave it.”
Peter looks at you, the glint in your eye and your smile daring him to agree. His senses aren’t picking up on anything, and he guesses a ceiling fan is better than nothing. Plus, you’ve got his attention.
“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”
You blink once, twice, like you hadn’t expected him to accept your invitation so easily. “You can use the door if you-”
Peter jumps from your neighbor’s fire escape to yours, and you back away from the window when you see him coming. He grabs the top of it and swings his body through, landing on his feet almost silently.
“-want.”
He tilts his head, and you can tell he’s smiling beneath the mask.
“Right,” you say. “Forgot about the whole superhero parkour thing for a second.”
“No, I just wear this suit for fun,” he replies.
You almost want to laugh, looking at him standing in your living room. This boy in a superhero suit standing amongst your cozy furniture, like somebody dragged and dropped him into the room randomly.
“Funny,” you mutter, heading toward your kitchen. “Feel free to sit down, I don’t mind. What can I get you?”
Peter sets himself onto your couch, elbow perched on the arm. “Water would be great.”
“Coming right up.”
He looks around as you grab a glass, the ice clinking against the sides when you add it. Peter scans your living room, the books on your shelves, the pictures you have framed, the plushie that sits on the other side of the couch.
When your footsteps approach, he looks back towards you, offering him a glass, condensation already clouding it. He takes it from you, your fingers brushing against his gloved ones.
“Thanks.”
Though you can’t see his eyes, you can tell he’s looking at you, and you’re suddenly very aware of your outfit. A thin pyjama set, a tank top and shorts. Meanwhile he’s got every inch of his skin covered.
“I didn’t poison it, I promise,” you say, noticing he hasn’t drank anything yet.
“I can’t- uh. ‘Cause of my mask,” he tells you, free hand waving loosely in the air.
“Oh! That’s okay, I won’t look.”
You walk over and sit on the other side of the couch, your body facing the open window and away from him.
“You can trust me,” you add quietly.
His spidey senses would tell him if he couldn’t, but even with them aside, he really does feel like he can trust you. And aren’t you trusting him, too, in a way? Letting him into your space, taking your eyes off of him without a second thought.
Peter slips the mask up until his nose and mouth are exposed, and he drinks about half the glass in one go. He finishes the rest quickly, too, setting the glass on the coffee table and pulling his mask down when he’s done.
“You’re good,” he says. “Thank you.”
You turn back around to look at him, and you want to ask him questions, to get to know him and listen to him talk, but you don’t. He’s anonymous for a reason, and you want to respect that.
Before you can think of something else to say, he springs up from the couch, his hand on the back of his neck.
Peter doesn’t want to leave you, and he’s not exactly sure why, but he has a responsibility, so he has to.
“I’m so sorry,” he says. “I have to-”
“Protect the city, I know.”
He nods, a web shooting from his wrist, tugging him out the window and into the skyline.
hi first of, i love your writing so much. secondly, i dont know if you take requests, and if you dont, that's totally fine. but i was wondering if you could do a peter x reader in an established relationship & living together and her brother or cousin (whatever really) unexpectedly shows up and she just calls peter a roommate. then he comes out all jealous until he realizes thats her family
a/n: this one has been in my inbox for so long, feels really nice to finally write it
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
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You swiftly leapt out of the kitchen as the doorbell suddenly rang, leaving your boyfriend behind as he continued to clutch a wooden spoon and make sure your dinner didn’t burn. Though as you pulled open the front door to your apartment, the surprise on the other side nearly caused you to stumble.
“Will!” your jaw hit the floor at the sight of none other than your brother, “what are you doing here?”
“I was in town,” he flashed you a bright grin, holding out his arms like he was the expensive Lego set your parents never permitted you to get as a child, “what, am I not allowed to just drop by?”
“No, of course you are,” you faintly shook your dazed head as he crossed over the threshold, “we were just about to have dinner–”
“We?” his eyebrows cocked, “oh shit, do you have company right now?”
“No, no, or well, it’s just Peter.”
“Peter?”
“Yeah, my boy–, roommate,” you swiftly squeaked, “he’s my roommate.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you had a roomie!” he smiled as he kicked off his shoes and set down his bag.
“Uhm, yep,” you stiffly coughed, “it’s kind of a new development…”
“Hey, darling,” Will then glanced over his shoulder after he’d hung his coat up on a hook on the hallway wall, “where’s the bathroom?”
“Right down there,” you pointed before watching him trot down in that direction.
Once you’d returned to the kitchen, the soft smile, that had been on Peter’s lips back when you’d left, had faded as he continued to drag the long spoon through the sautéing vegetables.
Narrowing his gaze in your direction, he then said, “so, roomie,” his petty tone revealing how much he’d overheard through the apartment’s thin walls, “who’s Will?” he kissed his teeth, “anything you’d like come clean about?”
“What?” your face instantly scrunched up, “ew, gross, no! Will is my brother!”
All of Peter’s tension then promptly melted away, “oh, Will, Will! Your brother Will!” he connected the dots, then smiled widely as, “hey look, your brother’s here,” flowed out past his lips in an adorably genuine tone, as if he hadn’t just misunderstood everything.
“Yes, you weirdo,” you light-heartedly rolled your eyes and shifted to check the timer on the things in the oven.
“Doesn’t he already know about us?” he asked, “we have been together for two years and, oh yeah, we live together! I don’t know about you, but that’s not exactly what I’d describe as a casual relationship.”
“No, of course, he knows about the vague idea of you,” gaze averted to the scraps left on the cutting board, you began to explain, “but he doesn’t know that we moved in together, and if he knows, then that means my parents will know, and trust me, you’re not ready for that yet.”
“I think I can handle a couple of parents, thank you very much,” he chuckled, not yet heeding your warning.
Finally meeting his gaze, you placed a hand on his forearm and exhaled, “honey, they would interpret us moving in together as instant wedding bells and like a trillion babies. I am doing this for your protection.”
“Oh…” he uttered slowly, his brows raising at your words, “well, thanks for having my back then.”
“You’re welcome,” you briefly leaned in and pressed a peck to his lips before you drew back once more and sucked in a deep breath, conjuring the strength that the rest of the night surely required, “now, do you wanna go help me give my brother a tour and rapidly come up with an answer as to why we only have one bed?”
my vision is peter parker and my favorite song holy ground please and thank you
Oh gosh I know the Peter blogs that follow my blog are most likely inactive but I had this in the drafts for so long .. I couldn’t not share 🥺
I also rewatched the mcu spiderman movies recently & it made me miss Peter so muchhhhh 🥲🥲
holy ground x peter parker
you marveled at the specks of freckles on his nose. mesmerized by the twinkle in his eye. his fingers perfectly wrapped around yours as his hand gave yours a slight squeeze.
he leaned over, lips ghosting over yours until your lips were tenderly touching.
your eyes snapped open feeling the absence of his lips. instead, it was the warm rim of your mug that touched your lips. the bittersweet smell of coffee infiltrated your nose. the scent of coffee triggered the moments you'd spent up on the roof of your school each morning before school. the half-empty coffee cups at your side.
there wasn't a day that passed when you didn't think of peter. you wondered what he was up to. sure, you could look him up on social media but his feed hadn't changed. he never posted. he felt like a ghost.
when you typed his name and searched for him on Instagram, the photos you'd taken of him stared back at you. his bright smile and crinkled nose still made your heart flutter and you always closed the app quickly as if he could see you.
"you okay?" the concerned voice of your best friend replaced the panic you'd felt after looking at his instagram.
you nodded taking a quick sip of your coffee instantly regretting it when the hot liquid made contact with your tongue.
"fuck," you cursed under your breath.
"what's that?" she glanced at the screen. peter was still all over it and you quickly grabbed your phone, locking it and putting it in the pocket of your robe. "why don't you call him?" she asked as if she didn't know the entire history of what happened between you and peter.
"you know why," you mumbled this time cradling the cup in your hand, blowing on the liquid waiting for it to cool down before drinking. "he's spiderman!" you exclaimed.
the moments of just the two of you were gone. the times of laughing on the roof as teenagers and doing karaoke were done. you'd grown up and he'd gone to be a hero.
you were left with nothing but an old scatter of images on instagram.
based on this request: so the reader has a boyfriend but he’s been kinda of a shitty one to her? like he’s an extreme workaholic who often skips their anniversaries and dates, and just takes her for granted all the time. whereas peter is her best friend who has been pining and harboring feelings for her but kept it all to himself (he knows how her bf has been treating her as well) until one day she breaks down in front of him and he comforts her. it’s very angsty and maybe ends with fluff?
warnings: f!reader, not as angsty as i’d hoped so sorry about that, asshole boyfriend, greys references, pining!peter, request, not much fluff, unedited
Fact— Peter Benjamin Parker was in love with his best friend. Completely and utterly whipped. The kind of love that blossomed over the course of a few years; something he thought he’d grow out of but to his luck, it grew in his heart like uncontrollable weeds in a yard.
And it didn’t help that you would literally choose any other person on this planet but him.
Now, Peter couldn’t control that. Of course not. As much as he dreamed that one day you’d suddenly tell him you were absolutely in love with him and had been for years, he knew it wouldn’t matter if it didn’t come from the heart.
And seeing as it’s been years since Peter realized you were his entire world and you’ve been in other relationships (some of which you’ve solely depended on Peter’s advice of dating them or not—to which he always faked a smile and encouraged), the dream would simply just be that. A dream.
Nothing more.
And yes, it hurt like hell. It felt like a knife was being plunged into his stomach every time he saw you with someone else. Like the world was crumbling beneath his feet when you smiled at the phone because you were texting him… Like there was no chance in hell that he’d ever find a way past the heartbreak whenever he saw you and your boyfriend together.
Because this relationship was a little different than the others…
It took a while for Peter to notice it, which was surprising due to his incredible senses. But when he finally did, God did it kill him.
The fake smiles. The sudden mood changes. The excuses.
It was like your personality was being slowly drained away and it lit a fire in his bones. A rage that threatened to burst whenever he saw your piece of shit boyfriend. Thankfully, Peter had mastered the mask of nonchalance and innocence whenever you brought Nate around but you weren’t stupid. You knew that Peter knew.
And you couldn’t tell if that filled you with relief or shame.
For as long as you’ve known each other, you’ve never been the type to settle. You’ve always known your worth, known how to put your foot down and put it down firmly. Certain in what you wanted—no, needed (but that’s not to say you were afraid to ask for what you desired). You were fair, open to compromise, a fairly good listener, and overall a person who cared...
So you had no idea when your relationship had started tipping the scale, losing its balance until you were stuck with the heaviest side. With all the burden and hard work that should be shared in a healthy relationship.
And though you tried your best to figure it out, to grasp at the confidence and outspokenness you once had, it was damn near impossible.
So you just settled. You just took it one day at a time because you didn’t want to disappoint him. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself even more than you already have, and you know you shouldn’t feel this way. You know that Peter would never judge you in the way you’re scared of but you couldn’t stand pity.
And that’s exactly what you’d get if you ran away now.
So, you just settled.
“How’s the new promotion going?”
It’s your two-year anniversary, an occasion you were highly surprised Nate had even remembered. Let alone planned something for it. But here you are—at a high-end restaurant on the waterside of the financial district.
The damn financial district. You had forced a smile when the two of you arrived at the restaurant, trying to hide the fact that you’d already made the decision that you absolutely hated the restaurant. Just because it was in the financial district.
Everything was about the financial district. About finance and his dad’s business and fucking Wall Street.
“Hm?”
Swallowing your mouthful of pasta, you stared at the table with a sense of detachment. This isn’t anything you’re not used to. “Your promotion?” You cleared your throat. “How’s it going?”
Nate finally looked up from his phone, a spark of interest gleaming in his eye. Normally, that little spark would excite you, get you on the edge of your seat as you grasped for his attention.
But you were beyond over it today.
“The promotion!” Nate smiled in a satisfied way. “It’s good. I think my dad is finally starting to see me for who I truly am. What I’m truly meant to be.”
You smiled sweetly. “And what’s that?” You played the supportive girlfriend part perfectly.
“CEO of New York’s biggest finance company.” Same shit, different day. As if you hadn’t heard that before. Except it isn’t New York’s biggest finance company. In fact, it’s barely a speck in the thousands that are fighting their way for a spot next to the big boys on Wall Street.
“That’s great,” you lied. “I’m happy for you.”
Fueled from the praise, Nate was suddenly a bit more animated. “So how’s it going with your—um—what’s it called? Your art stuff… the uh—”
“Photography?” You wanted to laugh. How hard was it to remember your passion? It’s not like he’d been calling you his girlfriend for the past two years or anything…
Mouth full, Nate nodded largely. “That.”
He’s not looking at his phone. You realize suddenly as you gave him a skeptical look over the table. He’s actually listening. He’s looking at me and listening! Call the press, this is monumental news—I should probably answer before he picks up the phone again—
“It’s good! You know I actually got an internship with this really big newspaper company. It’s the biggest opportunity I’ve had so far and I’m actually really really excited—”
He’s looking down at his phone again. Not only that but he’s picking up a call—right in the middle of this fancy five-star restaurant he’d claimed was the best of the city. Right in the middle of your passionate spiel.
Your jaw hung slightly, staring across the table incredulously as the words died on your tongue. Embarrassed tears filled your eyes, your throat tightening in shame as you glanced around at the nearby tables.
For the most part, everyone was minding their business, actively engaged in conversation with their partners. Until your eyes met the gaze of a young woman who sat at the table to your right. She was in a group, sat next to a man you assumed to be her husband (if the matching rings were any indication) and their hands were interlaced at their sides.
They seemed to be a little older than you, probably not by much but everything about their language screamed relaxed and comfortable. Secure and healthy.
Of course, you couldn’t know that for sure but then her husband was suddenly tugging at her hand softly, ripping her gaze away from you and back towards him. The look they shared hit you in the gut, punching you with a severe realization—it was a look you recognized.
A look that had been given to you many times… but not from the man who sat across from you. Not from the man who was currently laughing on the other end of a seemingly interesting phone call (more interesting than your photography at least).
You observed as the husband whispered something in his wife’s ear, the two giggling quietly as they leaned in closer. It left you speechless, their small interaction holding more love and adoration than anything you’d ever felt toward Nate.
Your appetite was suddenly gone.
It’s even worse when the woman looked over again, as if to check on you. When her eyes found yours again, she gave you a look of—of pity.
One single tear fell down your cheek, your face turning quickly to hide it, but you were sure she’d seen it.
A shaky hand came up to wipe it swiftly, watching through watery eyes as Nate took a joyous bite of his meal.
“Oh, you’re right outside?” Nate was saying to the person on the other end of the call. Your eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. “Great. I was just finishing up here. Yeah… Okay… Sure—I’ll meet you out there, how’s that? Okay, bye.”
He put his phone down loudly, finishing the last sip of wine in his glass. Then, your boyfriend looked up as if he remembered you were sitting at the table with him… on your two-year anniversary.
“Right!” He wiped his mouth with a cloth. “This has been swell, but really I invited you here to tell you something.”
You were perplexed. “Okay…”
“I’m breaking up with you.”
It was deadpan. A monotone statement that left you in an instant state of confusion. “What?”
“In all honesty, I shouldn’t have let it go this far. But you know how my dad is. He likes order and breaking up with you would’ve cost me my job. My goals…”
At this point, your jaw had dropped open at his audacity.
“And I couldn’t have that,” he laughed like it was all one big joke. “Clearly!”
You tried to take a moment to process your feelings—were you sad? Were you upset? Angry?
You should be sad, right? You should be on the verge of tears because your two-year relationship was over, right?
But all you feel is anger and a burning sense of humiliation. “Clearly, you’ve had your mind set for a while. How long did you fake it?”
“Fake what?” He had this dumb smile on his face, as if he hadn’t spent the last few months pulling you in with meaningless ‘I love you’s and little moments of affection that made you feel guilty for even considering putting yourself first.
Your nostrils flared. “Everything.”
“Don’t know. Lost count after the first few months,” he shrugged, waving over the server as he dug through his pocket for some cash.
Motionlessly, you sat in your spot, rethinking every single effort you’d made for your relationship to work. Rethinking every single time you’d lied to your best friend’s face and told him that you were in love with your boyfriend and that everything was alright. That he didn’t need to worry.
“But I’ve got this banging hot chick waiting outside for me and now that this promotion has secured me a spot on the board, there’s really no reason for me to put up with you anymore.” Nate gave the server a polite smile as he signed the receipt, leaving a generous tip on the table.
Put up with you anymore? What the hell did he put up with? Your tireless efforts to make him feel loved? All the times you’d make sure the workload wasn’t getting to him? The times you’d fake it just for him because you didn’t want to hurt his feelings?
What the actual fuck had become of you? Nate had destroyed you from the inside out, draining you of everything you had until he got bored of you.
“Fuck you,” was all you had to say, watching as your ex stood up, screeching his chair noisily until every other table looked your way.
He looked as if he enjoyed the insult, loved the joys that came with being an absolute asshole. “For what it’s worth,” you could sense it wasn’t going to be worth anything. “The sex was great.”
You were right.
With that, Nathaniel spun on his heel and sauntered out of the restaurant.
The tables around you were silent, eyes burning various holes in your figure while you felt a deep pit form in the base of your stomach. Nausea kept you rooted to the spot, afraid that if you moved, your entire meal would land right back on your plate.
Never in your life had you felt so humiliated, reduced to a good fuck and nothing more. After countless forgotten dates and anniversaries… After countless times you’d stuck your neck out for him.
And when you finally gathered the strength to stand up from your table, your legs were a bit shaky, overwhelmed from the mortification.
Stumbling onto the sidewalk in the chilly New York streets, your hands fumbled for your phone, dialing a number you’d known by heart since the seventh grade.
The line rang a few times before a warm voice picked up. “Hello?”
You wanted to sound normal, but the sound of your best friend was enough to break down all your defenses. “Pete?”
On the other end, Peter sat up quickly, heart dropping at the crack in your tone. “Sunshine, what’s wrong?” He practically cooed.
He could hear rapid footsteps on the other line, little puffs of breath leaving your mouth like you were hastily walking somewhere. “Are—are you home?”
Please, please tell me you’re home, you beg silently. Your throat ached from the sobs you were holding back.
“I am,” he replied instantly, the worry making him sit up and rush toward the window. He was already pulling off his shirt, dressed in his Spider-Man suit underneath the sweats, before you could sniffle a response.
“Um, I think…” you were stuttering, a million thoughts running through your head. “You were right.”
“About?” You could hear him pull the window open hastily.
You sniffled. “Nate.”
Halfway out the window, Peter froze, hanging from the side of the building. His breath caught in his lungs. “Y/N.”
“Yeah?” You answered weakly, finding a nice spot overlooking the Brooklyn bridge and collapsing on a bench.
Your best friend took a deep breath. “Did he—” his voice cracked in anger. “What did he do? Did he touch you?”
“What?” You spluttered. “No, he—he didn’t—”
“Y/N…” his voice was shaky like yours, though it was from the sudden fury that consumed his nerves at the mere thought of the asshole even touching you at all.
Just spit it out. “No. No, he didn’t hurt me… I, um, just got dumped.”
It was silent for longer than a minute and you glanced at your phone to make sure the call hadn’t dropped.
You continued. “…and—and I want to say that I’m sad. That my heart hurts and all I want is for my relationship to go back to the way it was but… but I can’t say that because it isn’t true.
“I just feel humiliated and drained. And it’s—” a sob escaped you. “It’s the worst feeling ever and you can say—you can say I told you so. It’s fine—”
“—it’s not.”
The phone slipped from your grasp, landing on the bench in a noisy clatter as you jumped at the sudden presence next to yours.
It was Peter—well not Peter, more like Spider-Man but it was your best friend nevertheless. “It’s not fine. I’m not going to sit here and gloat, because I didn’t want to be right.”
Your lip was caught between your teeth, something that secretly made his gaze linger on your mouth, and you were staring at him with those big doe eyes. Watery and full of a thousand things you wanted to say but wouldn’t.
“I didn’t want you to be hurt,” he whispered. “All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy, sunshine…”
With that, he crossed the few steps that separated you, joining you in the middle as you stood up. His arms wrapped around your waist protectively as your façade completely dropped, sobs wracking your frame violently.
He wished he could show you the depth of his love for you. Show you the way you deserve the be treated. Erase the pain that that asshole had caused.
But how could he put you in harm’s way? Expose you to the many enemies Spider-Man inevitably made?
It’s out of the question—it always had been and it always will be.
“I’m sorry,” you were repeating under your breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I’m crying.”
A suit-clad hand reached up to stroke your hair back, pulling you tighter into his chest.
“How…” you sniffled. “How did you know where I was?”
Peter smiled softly. “Senior year, remember? Whenever we need a place to think—”
“—this is our spot,” you finished with a wobbly smile. “Right.”
It was an agreement you’d made years ago when the two of you had been going through a tremendous amount of stress. Between college applications and state assessments, you were both teetering the line between barely staying afloat and a full-on meltdown.
The week of college acceptances was the worst. Peter found you on this same bench almost every afternoon, sweating from jogging the bridge and nearly in tears as you stared at the water nervously.
And when freshman year of college rolled around and the two of you had moved in together, it was Peter’s turn to frequent the bench. Reduced to tears over his anxiety about juggling a full-time program in biophysics at an Ivy League and fulfilling his Spider-Man duties in the city.
The bench was a quiet place, marked by countless hugs and silent tears. It was your place.
“I didn’t even realize I came here,” you sighed, letting Peter drag you over to the bench.
A realization made you stop in your tracks. “You’re in the suit.”
“Right,” Peter grinned sheepishly under the mask. Then, he pulled you close and wrapped an arm around your waist.
“Wait—”
It was too late; he’d already taken off before you could brace yourself. Your heart sunk to your feet, a scream catching at the back of your throat as you frantically fought to wrap your arms around his neck.
It was impossible to open your eyes against the rushing wind, eyelids squeezed shut, clueless as to your destination. But you couldn’t find it in you to care, the only thing rushing through your mind was the desire to touch ground already.
Transportation by web wasn’t a new experience for you. But it didn’t mean you appreciated it anymore now than you did the first time. The views were pretty, sure, but nearly throwing up hundreds of feet over New York wasn’t.
The end couldn’t have come sooner. As soon as your feet touched solid surface, you snapped your eyes open. A scolding was at the tip of your tongue until you realized where he’d taken you.
The top of a skyscraper, an important monument if you had to guess.
Hurriedly, you looked down to survey the surface you were standing on. It was a nice slab of stainless steel, surprisingly sturdy and spacious. Next to you, a spire dwarfed you in size.
“We’re on the Empire State.”
You looked over at Peter; his mask was gone, hair swiped to the side in a curly mess. He seemed more relaxed than you’d seen him in days, no— months.
He took your silence as a sign to continue. “I’ve been coming here for a while now.”
“It’s beautiful,” you said, scanning the glittering buildings below. You spotted Madison Square Garden not too far ahead, laughing in amusement at the venue that seemed so big to you whenever you’d visit. Now, it was barely the size of your thumb.
Peter followed your gaze and gave you his own chuckle. “Tiny, right?”
“This is what you see every night?” You asked in amazement.
“Yeah. It’s the only place I can really think.”
The crack in his voice made you turn. There’s pain in his eyes, it’s the first time you really see it. The last few months had blinded you to a lot of things, your frustration and self-pity stealing you away from the one person who meant the most to you.
“Pete—”
“You know what I’d think about?” He pursed his lips. “While I was up here?”
Something told you where this was going, but you were too afraid to answer.
“I’d think about you.”
Okay… He was absolutely mad at you. He’d been sparing your feelings because he could tell how miserable you were in that relationship but now, the jig was up. You were done and apparently, so was he. The words were tumbling out before you could stop them. “I’m sorry—”
“Wha—why?” Peter chuckled humorlessly. “Why are you apologizing?”
“I dunno,” you mumbled. “I know I haven’t really been there lately.”
It was silent. You hesitantly looked at your best friend to find him already staring at you with a look you couldn’t quite place.
“I would think about you,” he repeated pointedly. “For the last two years, I’ve watched you turn yourself into someone, at times, I barely recognized. I’ve watched you shrink yourself slowly until... until...” he never finished and it left you mildly curious, though you weren’t eager to hear an outside perspective of how you’d been played like a guitar string.
“That asshole didn’t deserve you, Y/N. You’re too good, too-too pure, and he didn’t deserve more than a minute of your time...”
You stared at the skyline, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. Peter wasn’t trying to make you feel bad, you knew that, but it stung nonetheless because he was right.
Then, he softly uttered your name. It was filled with an emotion that struck a nerve deep within you. You nearly choked.
“You’re still the same girl I’ve known since high school. The same girl that wouldn’t hesitate to put Flash Thompson in his place—” you rolled your eyes at the reminder of that dickwad. “You’re still the same girl that sees the good in everyone, and you’re still the same stubborn girl who can get villains to stand down from the sheer force of your will...”
He’s talking about Harry Osborn, and it finally draws a laugh out of you. It wasn’t funny a year ago, when the incident nearly got you killed, but it was enough to make you tearfully laugh now.
“Y/N… you’re still the sun.”
The laugh got paralyzed in your throat, choked down by a small sob of relief. The alleviating realization that the most debilitating aspect of your life was finally gone, a parasite that had been reducing you to ashes, shadowing your brightness and sucking every part of you until you were practically a shell of who you used to be.
There were words your best friend never heard, arguments and disputes no one would ever know, parts of yourself that would take more than an hour to steal back from Nate’s vicious clutch, but you were more than relieved to realize that at the other end of it, there was one thing that he could’ve never taken away from you.
Before you could say anything, Peter uttered one last thing.
“You’re still the same girl that I’ve always loved.”
A swell of emotions attacked your heart, squeezing and squeezing until the only relief was Peter’s arms. You’re glad that he has such fast reflexes or else you’d both be tumbling off the side of the building.
There could be multiple meanings behind that statement—and there definitely was— but Peter meant it in the way he knew you needed.
A confession wasn’t something you could handle right now, and it wasn’t something Peter could ever see himself admitting while he still worried about your safety, so he made sure you saw the fond edge in his gaze. The years of friendship and devotion that you two shared.
There weren’t words to describe how you felt about Peter Parker, you could barely make sense of it. But holding him close, feeling his hands around your waist and heartbeat against your ear, you were almost certain that the words that rested at the tip of your tongue held a different meaning than what he’d just said to you.
But you keep it in, afraid to shatter this moment and feeling the long road of healing ahead. It could wait.
This embrace was enough.
yes... this is a little bit of a mess but i’m fairly certain i say that about every single thing i write. also, shameless grey’s anatomy reference because that show has my entire heart and soul. anyway, this request is from MONTHS ago. i am so sorry you sweet anon but if anyone would like to read it, here it finally is.
hey hey esmeee so like im kinda (very) sick rn and it’s looking to be covid but we still dont kno so iiiiii was just wondering how andrew or peter would react to his gf getting sick??? pretty please?? 🥺
you’ve reignited a flame i’m literally on andrew garfieldtok bc of you how dare you
anywaysss happy holidays!!!
i'm so sorry to hear you're sick, angel :( but peter taking care of you sounds so sweet!! i hope you get well, happy holidays!!
cold - tasm!p.p.
SUMMARY: peter will protect you from anything, even if it's a common cold.
WARNINGS: sick!reader, fluff!
the following work is my own writing. do not plagairise or copy and paste my works onto another platform. message me about credit.
MASTERLIST
You blew your nose for a third time into a folded up tissue before tossing it into the trash can you'd set next to you. Your eyes were slightly watering and you shivered violently, even though you were covered by three of Peter's blankets.
He'd been out since the morning. It was Saturday, his favorite day to swing around the city. He was only slightly suspicious when you'd told him you'd stay home. You were still wrapped up in bed when he asked. "It's fine, baby, I have some work to finish." You tried to pass it off as tired.
Unfortunately, now you were stuck home alone. You'd finished all the cough drops and you were on your last box of tissues. You would've texted Peter but you didn't want to worry him and besides, he rarely saw messages when he was swinging around anyway.
Suddenly, your phone rang on the coffee table next you. You were slow to pick it up. "Hello?" You croaked and sniffled.
"Hey, angel," Peter's voice brought a smile to your face. You could hear the wind whirling around in the background. "You okay? Your voice is all groggy."
You sighed, "I'm sick, Peter." You coughed into your elbow and heard the sound of a car horn honking and a man yelling. "You're not supposed to call and swing, baby."
"No, I know. But I'm on my way home now!" There was a grunt of effort on his end as he landed harshly on what you assumed was your building, simply because there was a loud thump above you. "See you in a few, baby!"
You were happy to hear your boyfriend so elated but the feeling of your raging headache brought you down. You heard the front door unlock and shut, Peter passing by you through the hallway into the kitchen, still clad in his suit. "(y/n)!" He yelled, tossing his backpack into your shared room. "Where are you?"
"I'm right here," you groaned, unable to speak loud enough for the average person to hear. Luckily, your boyfriend had enhanced hearing that picked up your weak voice.
When he saw you laying on the couch, underneath a deep sea of blankets, surrounded by a trash bin of tissues and cough drop wrappers, Peter's heart broke. You saw it in his eyes. "Oh, sweetheart," he cooed, instantly rushing to your side. "I knew you didn't seem okay this morning. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I'm okay, Peter," you laughed, only to cough soon after. "I'm okay, we're just all out of cough medicine...and cough drops...and tissues."
Peter smiled and let out a breathless laugh. "You don't sound so okay," he rubbed your cheek with his thumb. "How about I go out to the store down the street? I'll get you some snacks too, anything you'd like."
You blushed so hard you were sure he could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. "No, you can go later," you whined, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him down in a hug. "Please, stay here for now?"
"Okay, baby," he chuckled and patted your back. "How about a warm bath? I can run us one and we can stay in until it's cold. That sound nice?"
It sounded perfect. You nodded tiredly and watched as Peter hurried to the bathroom. You could hear the running water and there was even a cloud of steam trailing through your apartment. Peter ran back to you and picked you up from the couch, carrying you to the bath. "Here we go, sweetheart."
He peeled off your t-shirt and shorts, helping you into the water. He was quick to follow, leaving his spider-suit in the corner of your bathroom. Peter sent you gentle whispers as he sat behind you. The water was so warm it soothed your muscles and the pain in your stomach.
"This better?" He whispered and left a kiss on your ear.
Nodding, you laughed, "Honestly, Peter, it's just a cold."
"I know," he tucked his chin onto your shoulder. "But I don't wanna see my girl sick. It's my job to protect you, baby, even if it's just from a cold." Peter played with the bubbles in the water before you took his hands into yours. Thank God, your boyfriend couldn't get sick. "How about after this, we lay down and watch some movies in bed? I'll go to the store, get anything you need."
You smiled and held his jaw, moving his lips to yours. You kissed him gently, "That sounds perfect, baby."
i have a blurb request! for peter with the fluff dialogue prompt: “texting you until midnight is nice, but being able to hold you until midnight is a thousand times better" 🤍
🌙 writing – send in a blurb request (info below).
Fluff 1 - 27. "texting you until midnight is nice, but being able to hold you until midnight is a thousand times better"
—
Holding your body all night || pp.
W/c – 580
"Are you sure it's okay for me to stay over?" You asked Peter as you were both in his bed, watching Bridgerton.
"Yeah, it's no problem." Peter had talked about you staying the night for some time now, and as much as you wanted to – you really did – you were for some reason also nervous. This would be a new very intimate step in your relationship.
"But what about May?"
"May won't be phased by it, I promise." Peter couldn't see a single reason as to why you shouldn't stay, but he still got the impression that something was in the way. "Do you not want to stay over?" Peter asked with a small pout.
"No! I definitely want to," you told him as you held his cheeks in your hands. "I'm sorry if I made it seem like I don't want to, cause I do. I just don't want to ruin your sleep."
"Why would sleeping over ruin my sleep?" Peter asked, generally confused.
"Well you deserve a good sleep after your patrol, you must be tired." You explained your thoughts to him.
"I promise you, you staying over will only make it better." He tilts your head up with his index finger on your chin, and moves down to plant a soft kiss on your lips.
As the time passed, so did your nerves, Peter’s words helped a lot, and now you were just excited. You were still in his bed watching Netflix, though you had changed to Gilmore Girls. And now you were also laying down, Peter’s arms hugging your body from behind as he spooned you.
The time went by, and neither of you noticed how late it had gotten, that was until you yawned.
"Tired?" Peter asked you with his soft voice.
"A little, what time is it?" Peter grabbed his phone, hitting the powerbuttun, and the screen lit up, clearly showing the time: 01.07 am.
"We should probably go to sleep." He told you, you simply nodded your head. Peter placed a kiss to your cheek, as he shifted away from you, and got up from the bed.
He went over to his drager, and pulled out his pyjama pants. You sat up in his bed, the covers laying over your lap, as you watched him change his pants. It was when he took off his shirt that you spoke up.
"Hand it to me." He turned around –abs on full display– and saw your arms that were extended, asking him to hand you his shirt, and he did so, no questions asked.
You told him to turn around, as you removed your own shirt and bra, and replaced it with his. His cent overtaking everything else, but you weren’t complaining.
The two of you brushed your teeth standing next to each other, smiles shared through the mirror. And Peter told you over and over again, how good you looked in his shirt, though it was a little hard to understand him, as he tried speaking and brushing his teeth at once.
Not soon after, you were both lying under his covers. He laid on his back, as you were cuddling into his side, with your head on his chest. His strong arms were hugging your body impossibly closer to his own.
"Texting you until midnight is nice, but being able to hold you until midnight is a thousand times better," Peter whispered to you, and planted yet another kiss on your skin.
Hey! Loved ' approval' so much!!💖 I have a request for you : being in love with your best friend Peter Parker and watching him fall for mj . 💞💞
Hello sweet anon. I'm sorry for the eternity wait, I hope you're still following me. It's been a while since that request has been asked.
To be fair, this request inspired me so much and it took me so much time to write it than i decided to make a mini-series about it. You will find the first part just here
please, notice me | part one
request: I don’t know if request are open but if they are can you please write where peter over hears the reader on the phone saying she’s not sure about sex, because she doesn’t know if he’ll be dominant and rough because the other times he was sweet and gentle. So after hearing this pete gets super dommy and like webs her to the bed a teases her and makes her beg to cum and is just really dominant. Thank you so much if you do this! I love your writing❤️❤️ by anonymous
notes: this has been in my inbox since summer 2019 i am so sorry + peter and reader are 18+ in this and living together (basically they’re grown) + i’m actually not sure i like this but oh well
“I don’t know MJ,” you sighed, unsure. “I just––It’s just not really as good as it could be.”
Peter didn’t mean to eavesdrop, he really didn’t. But he had been playing video games for a few hours now and had decided to take a break for today and made his way over to your shared bedroom. He’d realized you were on the phone and was going to go and come back later, but your conversation piqued his interest and he couldn’t help himself. Also, his hearing was pretty good, so even if he went back, he would have heard it anyway, even if he didn’t want to. You must have thought he still had his headset on.
“No he’s great––he’s really good.” You paused. “No he’s way better than my exes, he makes sure I cum every time, multiple times, that’s not the issue.” Peter leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, a feeling of smug pride in his chest, until another part of his mind reminded him that you said that wasn’t the issue––then what was? There was an issue?
“I––He’s just really,” you paused, struggling to find the right word. “Sweet...Gentle. He’s really gentle. I want him to be rough with me. I want him to be dominant.” You sighed. “But I think he’s just too soft to do that.”
Peter let his arms fall to his side. You’d never told him you wanted him to be rougher. If you had, he would bend you over his knee, no questions asked. He just had no idea you were into that.
When he heard you say bye to MJ, he took a deep breath and walked into the room. You looked up, startled. “Oh––Hi Pete.”
He smiled back, the expression not quite reaching his eyes. He paused, a few feet away from you, looking down at his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He could hear your heartbeat quicken. “W––What do you mean?”
“I heard your phone call, Y/N.”
“Oh, Pete––” You closed the distance between the two of you, your hand reaching out to hold his shoulder but his hand shot out and caught it in mid-air. He could hear your heartbeat becoming erratic.
He looked up at you and your breath hitched at the sinful look in his eyes. He could hear you getting excited, he could also smell you too. “Asked you a question, baby.” He tilted his head and brought your hand to his mouth, turning it to kiss the inside of your wrist, his thumb caressing the soft skin. “Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to be used like a toy?”
Your mouth went dry. “I––” You had no idea what to say. You knew he could tell how aroused you were getting, yet he wasn’t doing anything.
He raised a brow, clearly waiting for a response, and though it frustrated you, it also made you even wetter.
“I didn’t think you’d––be able to.” You could see a flash of irritation cross his features.
“I can lift a truck with my bare hands, and you thought I wouldn’t be able to dominate a pretty,” he leaned closer to you, “little thing,” he tilted your chin up, “like you?” Everything would be considered little to Pete when it came to his super strength––you’d never thought about it like that.
He moved as if he was going to kiss you, his breath softly touching your lips. “I’m going to have you crying for me, angel.”
He pulled away from you and you tried to lean forward and steal a kiss but you weren’t fast enough. He started to pull your shirt up and paused to let you confirm that you wanted this. When you nodded, he continued and pulled it off completely, letting it fall to the ground. His eyes shamelessly ogled your chest and the look in his eyes made you feel so vulnerable but so seductive––as if you were the one putting him in a trance, even though for you, it was the other way around.
He kissed his way down your stomach as he crouched down, pulling down your sweats and helping you step out of them. He stood back up and trailed his eyes over your body, your pebbled nipples, the rise and fall of your chest. God, you were magnificent.
“Are––Are you not gonna get undressed?” You asked quietly. When he raised a brow, you swallowed and looked down, suddenly nervous.
He tilted your head up by your chin and you bit your lip. “You want me to get naked? Wanna see how hard my cock is for you, just from the sight of you?” You nodded eagerly and he tutted, “You know you have to tell me exactly what you want, princess. Otherwise, I won’t do a thing.”
You licked your lips nervously. “I want––I want to see you. All of you.”
“Yeah?” He teased. “What part of me do you want to see?”
“Pete–” You whined, embarrassed. He crossed his arms and you sighed. “Your––I want to see your cock.” You said quietly.
He smiled, tapping your chin playfully. “There you go, baby. That wasn’t so hard was it?”
He pulled his shirt off teasingly slow, only letting you see inches of his skin at a time, your eyes trailing up with each sliver of skin you saw––from his v-line, to his abs, until he finally pulled it all the way off. He took off his pants and his boxers in no time, but he barely gave you any time to gawk at him.
“Get on the bed.” You could tell in his eyes, he wasn’t playing. You followed his instructions quickly, part of you extremely excited to see how this played out.
You got on your back in the middle of the bed and held your breath as Peter watched you silently, stroking his cock slowly. Your mouth was watering at the sight of him, but you had a feeling he wouldn’t let you take care of him first.
“Safe word is red, okay? Don’t be afraid to use it if you need to.” He looked at you to make sure you heard him and you nodded.
“Okay.”
He took his time taking you in, watching you squirm on the bed. You don’t even know how long he’d made you wait so far, it could have been thirty seconds, it could have been two minutes––you have no idea but it was too long. The way his hand was squeezing around his cock the way you liked to, his tip leaking with pre-cum, you couldn’t handle it. You started to squeeze your thighs together to relieve some pressure and his eyes snapped up to yours immediately.
“Spread your legs.”
You whined but complied, sighing when you felt the air of the room hit between your legs.
Peter’s eyes narrowed in on your center and he sped up his hand. “Fuck, princess. Look at you. You’re so wet for me, aren’t you? Can see you glistening from here.”
You mewled, his words only making you more bothered. You had to physically stop yourself from closing your legs but Peter wasn’t having that.
“Hands above your head.”
You looked at him, pouting. “But Pete––”
“Hands. Above. Your. Head.”
You swallowed and did as he asked. He climbed onto the bed, sitting on his knees between your legs, eyes focused on your center. “You’re so fucking perfect. Can’t believe you’re all mine.”
He brought his hands to trail up and down your thighs, his touch teasingly soft. “You know what else I can’t believe?”
You hummed, looking up at him.
“That you didn’t tell me you wanted to be treated like a slut.” You audibly gasped and he smirked. “This whole time I was treating you like my innocent little angel,” he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief, “when you really just wanted to be my needy little whore.” He trailed his hand down your inner thigh, so close to where you needed him, but not close enough.
Your back arched as you squirmed under him, “Peter please.”
He quirked a brow, looking into your eyes. “Yes?”
“Touch me.”
“I am touching you.” He retorted, a small smile on his face.
“Pete come on,” you whined, “stop messing around.”
“Sweetheart,” He dug his fingers into your thighs, making you sigh. “Does it look like I’m joking?” He kissed your knee. “Where do you want me to touch you exactly?”
You let out a shaky breath.
He kissed the side of your knee. “Here?” You shook your head. He kissed about an inch lower, a smile on his face. “Here?” You shook your head once again. He kissed lower and lower, asking each time, and every time, you would shake your head no. When he finally reached the highest point of your thigh, right next to your center, you were basically panting with want.
He was lying down on the bed now, his face hovering above your wet center. He kissed your clit gently and you moaned, your hips bucking for more, but he was quick to push you back down with one hand.
He laughed, “Is this where you want me to touch, baby?” You nodded desperately, but that wasn’t enough for him. He tilted his head, licking his lips. “Say it.” He ordered.
You looked down at him, your eyes about to water already with how sensitive and needy you were. “I want––want you to touch my pussy please, Peter.”
“Such a bad girl,” he cooed teasingly. “Naughty mouth too.” His fingers were tracing around your pussy softly, barely grazing your skin, making you yearn for more. “Practically punishing me just because you didn’t tell me what you wanted. Talking about me to your friend, keeping this to yourself...” He looked you in the eye, the dark look in his gaze making your breath hitch. “You were holding back from me too, princess. Depriving me of the darkest, most sensual parts of you, your desires, when we both could have been having fun…What on earth am I gonna do with you?” He pulled his hand away from you and you whined, making him bite his lip. “More importantly, what am I gonna do to you?”
You took a sharp inhale.
He lowered his head, still looking up at you. “You want my mouth?”
You nodded. “Want your mouth on me, please please please Peter.” You were already begging and the thought made Peter twitch. He had to control himself, he knew that if he rutted against the bed and just watched you, he’d cum in no time––and he really wanted to do that inside of you. But he couldn’t help but drag this out a little bit––not when you looked so enticing.
“Yeah?” he bit his lip. “You want my mouth on this pretty pussy?”
You were near tears, “Yes Peter! Please!” You didn’t care how desperate you sounded, you just wanted him to do something. This was the wettest and neediest you’ve ever felt and he hadn’t even touched you yet.
“Say it, baby.”
You looked at him, barely hearing his words, your response breathless. “W–What?”
His eyes were piercing yours. “Say you want me to eat this pretty little pussy. Then I’ll give you what you want.”
“P––Pete I––”
He raised a brow and made as if he was going to get up, and you quickly spoke up, “Okay I––Please Pete,” He looked at you, wordlessly egging you on. “I want you to eat my pretty little pussy…” Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, but then again, so did the rest of your body.
He hummed, still not moving. “One mistake though, babe.” You pouted, in disbelief that he still hadn’t eaten you out––normally he would jump straight to it, no questions asked. “This isn’t your pussy.” His finger trailed down from your clit to your hole, picking up the wetness as it dragged down ever so softly and your brows furrowed in frustration and pleasure, his other hand pinning you down. “It’s mine.”
You closed your mouth, your pussy clenching hopelessly around nothing.
“So correct yourself.”
“I––” You paused and bit your lip.
“I’m waiting, princess. You know it’s not really nice of you to make me wait this long. I’ve been aching to get my mouth on you.” He ran his finger back up to rest on your clit and you sighed.
You had to bite your tongue to prevent your frustrations from pouring out through some very vulgar words. You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and Peter smiled annoyingly at you when you opened your eyes––He knew exactly what he was doing. His hand rubbed up and down in your inner thigh and you took a shaky breath. “Peter please? Can you eat your pretty little pussy? It’s throbbing Pete please, I need you––”
He growled and buried his face in you, his tongue lapping up and spreading your wetness. Your hands shot down to grab his hair immediately and he pulled away, making you whine loudly. “I said hands above your head, sweetheart. First and final warning.” You raised your hands back where they were and he dove back in, hands pushing your thighs apart as he devoured you.
He was moaning into you, fully and unabashedly enjoying himself. “My pussy’s always so fucking wet and sweet for me, isn’t it?”
You sighed dreamily, the pleasure going straight to your head, “Mm only for you.”
He chuckled, his tongue making its way through your folds to lap at your clit mercilessly. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you into him, shaking his head, moving his tongue aggressively to push you towards the edge. You felt your breath hitch, your eyes widening as your legs started to tremble. Unwillingly, your hands shot down and just as they made contact with his head, he pulled away from you, making you whine loudly.
“Pete no––”
He licked his lips, not even bothering to wipe his chin and you clenched helplessly around nothing. You were pulsing and his eyes focused on your pussy for a moment before he looked back up into your eyes.
“What did I say?”
“I––”
“What. Did I. Say, Y/N.”
You gulped, “To keep my hands above my head.”
“That’s right. And did you do what I asked?” His eyes were piercing yours.
“You just felt––”
“Did you. Do. What I asked?”
You shook your head nervously, “N––No.”
He sat back, looking you up and down, hunger in his eyes. “Gonna have to punish you now, sweetheart.”
You perked up and he smiled. He could hear your heartbeat, your breath. “Yeah baby? You want me to spank that pretty ass of yours?”
You nodded, getting into position over his lap before he could even blink. You turned your head and batted your eyelashes teasingly. “Can you please spank me?”
“Jesus––” he muttered, his hands going over your smooth skin, grabbing the flesh. “So beautiful, aren’t you?” You bucked into his hips, getting wetter from his words and his touch. You unconsciously rubbed your thighs together and he swatted one of them lightly, making you gasp. “You know what to do. Spread em, babygirl.”
You whined but opened your legs, spread over him as if he were taking you from behind. “Such a naughty girl, wanting me to hurt you.” He spanked you with no warning and his strong hands held you back when you jolted away from him. “Such. A. Dirty. Fucking. Thing.” He spanked you between each word, your back arching further with each hit.
“Fuck, Pete.”
“Yeah I know. My princess likes that doesn’t she?” You nodded pathetically and he smiled, lifting you up to sit in his lap. “Well too bad this is supposed to be a punishment, then.” His smile dropped and your legs clenched around him. “On the bed like before. Don’t make me ask twice.”
You crawled over to the middle again, hands above your head and he watched you for a moment. He got up without a word and you stopped yourself from complaining. He came back with something in his hands and it looked like––
He pressed a button in a split second and your hands were webbed to the bed. Your eyes went wide and he could tell that you enjoyed it. He threw the web-shooter aside and climbed back between your legs, his hands running up and down your thighs.
“This okay baby?” You nodded and he smiled. “Since I know I can’t trust you to follow simple instructions and keep your hands where they belong,” he gave you a pointed look. “I just had to do something myself to make sure that you’re a good girl for me.”
He lowered himself back down and wasted no time, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses on your pussy, his arm slinging across your waist when you started squirming.
“Ughh F––Fuck, Pete––”
“That’s it, just take it baby.” He locked eyes with you. “Feel the way my tongue is touching you in ways that only I can.” He lifted his head and spit on your pussy, making you gasp, your hands hopelessly straining against the restraints. He cursed softly, noticing the way you were weakly fighting against the webs and licked along your slit, making a proper mess between your thighs with the mix of his spit and your wetness. His lips and his chin were soaked and you could see them glistening every time he pulled away from you or moved, only making you needier and wetter.
“Baby, I’m close––” You barely spit out, your voice quiet.
He hummed and sucked on your clit harshly, making you choke on your breath. Just as you felt yourself about to tip over the edge, he let you go with a loud pop of his lips, moving his kisses to your inner thighs. You let out a pained whine and he smirked, his lips still pressed to your thigh as he looked up at you.
“Why?” You asked, your voice breaking.
“Told you I wanted you to cry.” He had the nerve to shrug nonchalantly.
“You’re being mean.” You pouted, but Peter could hear your heartbeat, he could tell how you really felt, and you knew this.
He smirked again. “Don’t sit there and pretend you don’t like it.” He licked up your pussy again. “Looking at and tasting how wet you are, we both know how much you love this.” Before you could come up with a response, he wrapped his lips around you, licking and sucking. You felt sensitive and you were throbbing, aching to cum.
You could feel yourself reaching your peak rather quickly and your eyes fluttered shut, your head falling back as you tried and failed to arch your back under Peter’s hold. Before you could get a glimpse of relief, Peter pulled away from you again and you let out a small cry.
He did this again and again, every time you were about to tip over, he released your clit from his lips and trailed his kisses to your thighs, watching you pant and whine. He’d wait until you calmed down to shift his attention back between your legs.
Every time he edged you it hurt, but it also felt so good. It was thrilling. You were so needy and so desperate, and that was exactly how he wanted you. By the third edge, your eyes were glassy, by the fifth you had tears pooling in your eyes, and by the sixth, they finally rolled down your cheeks. Only then did he let you cum, sitting up on his knees and practically bending you in half as he devoured you, moans and whines falling from your lips.
Your body was trembling the whole time that you came, his mouth still attached to you. You felt relief for a few seconds before you realized he wasn’t stopping and there was no way for you to push him off. If you really did want him to stop, you could just say the safe word, but it felt so overwhelmingly good, part of you wanted it to stop, but part of you wanted him to keep going.
“Pete oh my god!––”
He growled and kept going, shaking his head and humming into you, his tongue dipping in and out of you while he held you up, one arm wrapped over you, while he slipped two fingers into your dripping hole and sucked on your bundle of nerves. Your legs were shaking, your body convulsing as he tortured you. He didn’t stop until you came again and again.
He set you down on the bed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before licking it up, and sucking on his fingers, not wanting to let any of you go to waste. “Taste so fucking good, princess.”
Your body was still going through aftershocks as he looked you up and down. He bent down as if he was going to eat you out again, his eyes on yours, and licked one teasingly slow stripe up your pussy, making you yelp and weakly try to shut your legs. He kissed your clit and up along your stomach, making his way up to your chest, then your lips. You eagerly kissed him back with tongue, tasting yourself as you trembled under him.
He pulled away and smiled down at you, far too innocently, but there was a glint in his eyes. “Never get tired of tasting my pussy.”
You let out a small whimper and your legs unconsciously squeezed around his waist. He brought a hand down to trace your thigh and your ass, his touch making you shiver. He grabbed your thigh and leaned down to kiss you again, your bodies molding together, his cock grinding against your pussy, making you whine into his lips. You were so sensitive, but you still wanted more.
“Gonna let me fuck my pussy baby, hm?”
You nodded. “Please.”
He grabbed his cock with one hand and hissed, pumping himself a few times before swiping it through your wet folds and sliding in. He bottomed out immediately, letting out a string of broken groans as you moaned.
“Feels so fucking tight.” His head fell back for a moment, eyes closing as he let himself just feel you. He thrusted in and out of you and his head fell forward again, focused on where you two were connected. “That’s it. Just like that. Such a perfect pussy. My perfect pussy.”
You mewled and his eyes snapped up to yours. “You like when I talk about my pussy baby?” You nodded and he smiled. “Yeah I know you do. Filthy fucking thing.”
He started thrusting into you at a faster pace, your walls clenching around him, making him let out a few groans and curses. You were both sweaty and needy––Peter’s cheeks were red, his curls falling over his eyes, his arms straining and flexing as he pounded into you. He looked like a god.
Your mouth was open, your eyes basically closing, a sheen layer of sweat on your body making your skin shine. Peter could tell you were getting closer, still sensitive from your orgasms and his teasing, it didn’t take long.
“You wanna cum baby?”
You nodded, panting, “So bad.”
“Such a greedy girl.” He held eye contact with you, thrusting deeply for a few moments before he stopped his hips, making you cry out. “Beg for it.”
You pouted, hands subconsciously trying to reach to hold his cheeks, but unable to due to the webs holding them back, making Peter smile. “Peter please let me cum baby.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes.
He tilted his head, licking his lips. “I know you can do much better than that, princess.”
Your brows furrowed in frustration. “Please! I need to cum, I’ve been a good girl.” He stared at you, prompting you to keep going. “Wanna cum and I want you to cum inside me too. Know you want to, can feel you throbbing inside me baby. Please?” Your throat was dry, voice practically shot when you finished.
Peter just looked at you for a moment before pulling almost all the way out and thrusting into you at full force, making you scream. He started pounding into you, grunting as your walls pulled him in, coaxing him to fuck you harder.
“This what you wanted?” He grunted out. “Yeah?”
You nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as he brought a hand down to rub at your clit, making your legs tense and tremble around him. He didn’t stop until he brought you over the edge, your whole body vibrating, yelps spilling from your lips, your neck tilted back, inviting him to mark it up. He groaned into your skin, licking, biting and sucking at your neck as he came shortly after, filling you up, making you moan.
He stayed there for a bit, soothing you with his kisses, his hands running up and down your side before he sat up.
He pulled out of you and ripped the webs apart, holding your hands and kissing your wrists softly before lying down next to you, cradling you in his chest. You wrapped an arm and a leg around him, sighing contently. You were both panting, trying to catch your breath and settle down.
After a bit, he spoke up. “So...was that good for you?” He asked sheepishly.
You looked up at him, smiling. Same old Peter. “That was amazing Pete.” You leaned up and kissed him softly, the two of you melting into each other for a few moments.
“I’m glad.” He smiled, his hand tracing patterns on your side, the other holding your jaw. “So next time you’re gonna tell me what you need, right?”
You bit your lip, “I don’t know…I kinda wanna see what happens if you find out on your own again.”
His grip tightened around your waist as he shook his head, laughing quietly, “You’re gonna kill me, you know that?”
