sum. ✶ poorly sneaking around the ship with peter quill. smut, unprotected sex. #need this man bad.
thinking about how hot it would be to sneak around with peter quill.
getting time alone with him is nearly impossible, especially aboard the milano. everyone is always in the way, doing one thing or another. rocket's constantly peeking in every nook and cranny, trying to find (steal) some spare parts, and drax can't mind his own business to save his life.
the ship is big, but it’s not that big. there's not enough room to be left alone for even a moment. but that’s okay, because quill has no problem making time.
"someone's gonna hear us, peter," you whisper, but it's less of a stern warning and more of a soft moan. "o—or see us."
he shrugs, that shit-eating grin plastered across his lips. "so let 'em." he has you pressed against a wall in a dusty storage room that doesn't even have a lock. "could be kinda hot, if you think about it."
"it could be mortifying, you asshole." he doesn't seem to care, though. he's pressing open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone, his hands trailing lower and lower until he’s gently tugging down your pants, giddy that you're complying.
quill flips you around, your cheek pressed against the cool metal of the wall. "mortifying, huh? why're you so wet for it, then?" you want to curse him out, but you figure the longer this banter goes on, the longer it'll take for him to get on with it.
he bottoms out, and it takes a second for you to adjust to his size, a gentle whimper leaving your mouth. he kisses your shoulder, praising you, "oh, you're s'good for me. taking me so, so well, sweets."
"peter," you breathe, your breath hitching. you clench around him, and he groans into the crook of your neck.
"won't last long at all if you keep up like that," he mutters. his thrusts are rough, and if it weren't for him physically holding you up, you wouldn't be able to stay upright. the slams against your hips are brutal, almost cruel. quill's finger finds your clit, and he teases you with slow, deliberate circles.
you come twice before he does, filling you with a hot stickiness. haphazardly pulling on your clothes, you stumble out with him, hickey-covered and giggling.
you don't have time to shrink in embarrassment behind quill before you notice rocket standing there, his face pinched in disgust.
"how about this," he gags, "next time you wanna mass-produce somewhere, you don't do it in where we keep all the fuckin' equipment?"
Day 5: "I'll be as gentle as I can. But if it's too much, we can stop anytime you want"
Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!reader
Summary: you and Peter have been dating for a while now. And tonight when you spend the night at his place, you took thing to another level. But you were nervous since Peter was your first in everything while he already had some experience. But Peter made your first time amazing.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, r losing her virginity, p in v, protected sex (if I missed something, lmk)
Word count: 1561
Author's note: I know I'm late with many fics and I'm sorry for that. They're slowly coming, I'm working on them. I hope you will like this one. This one is a repost too
Author's note2: not proofread. Also English is not my first language so maybe there will be mistakes.
Wolfie's Kinktober 2025 Masterlist
Main Masterlist
You met Peter after he graduated from school and started working for your father, Tony in full time job as Avenger. Which meant that you knew that he's Spiderman from the start.
When you announced to your father that you're going on a date, he was thinking about locking you into your room and never let you anywhere near any guy. But when you told him that it's Peter, his whole demeanor changed. Suddenly he wasn’t so opposed to the idea that you go on a date.
Tony knew Peter was a good guy, and he liked him so when you told him that Peter was the one who asked you on a date, your father calmed down a little. He knew that Peter's going to treat you right. Your father probably even thought that Peter's the only one who can treat her one and only daughter right. That Peter's the only one who is worthy of you.
"Bring her home at 10pm" Tony said to Peter on your first date when he came to pick you up.
"Yes, Mr. Stark" Peter said.
On your first date, as Peter promised, he brings you home until 10pm. He wanted to make a good first impression to Tony as your date, and not as a friend.
Now, you two have been dating for a little over a year. Tonight, you spent the night at his place, since his aunt left for the weekend so you two can have a little alone time.
At first, you decided to watch a movie in his room, but things got heated after he placed his hand on your thigh and he moved it higher and higher with every passing minute. You didn't stop him as you just looked at him and saw that he was already looking at you.
"You don't even watch the movie" you said and chuckled.
"You're more interesting" he said and moved his hand higher until his fingers reached the hem of your shorts.
You looked at his hand then looked back into his eyes. Then you both leaned in, and your lips met halfway in a soft kiss. But a few seconds later, he deepened the kiss, and his fingers slipped under the hem of your shorts as he caressed your inner thigh. As his cold fingers touched your warm skin, you got goosebumps, and you felt a growing need between your legs.
He broke the kiss for a minute as he rolled you onto your back then he hovered above you. He extracted his hand from under your shorts and ran his hands up all the way up your body, slowly pushing your shirt higher and higher. Then he grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it off your body. Since you didn't wear a bra, you quickly covered your breasts with your arms. But he reached out and pulled your arms away so he could look at you.
"Don't hide yourself, baby. You're beautiful" he said then he leaned down and kissed you softly.
But he pulled back seconds later and started trailing kisses down your neck which made your breathing a little heavy. He placed kisses all the way down your neck to your chest while his hands were exploring your body. His hands and lips left goosebumps in their trail.
He hooked his fingers into your shorts and pulled it down along with your panties while he was paying extra attention to your breasts with the kisses.
He pulled back for a minute to admire you, laying under him and the way his eyes roamed your body so shamelessly made you a little nervous. You felt exposed, especially because he was still fully clothed and because no one ever saw you like that before.
He slowly stripped off his own clothes too then he reached towards his nightstand. He pulled out the drawer and withdrew a little foiled packet. You watched he ripped it open with his teeth then rolled it onto his hard cock.
"Peter...." you said quietly.
"Yes, baby?" he asked softly.
"I- I never did this before" you said nervously, and his eyes widened a little.
"Never?" he asked as you shook head. You were a little embarrassed about this. All of your friends have already lost their virginity. Then here you were almost 20 years old and you first everything was with Peter. First date, first kiss and now, first sex.
"Never" you whispered.
"I'll be as gentle as I can. But if it's too much, we can stop anytime you want" he said softly and you nodded "Maybe it will be a little uncomfortable at first but if it hurts just tell me, okay?" he asked and you nodded again.
He positioned his cock at your entrance then he slowly started to push in. You shut your eyes, and he leaned down and kissed you to distract you, which actually helped a little. You felt as he stretches you out with his cock, you felt every inch as he slowly buried himself to the hilt then stopped.
"You okay, baby? Does it hurt?" he asked then placed a few soft kisses across your face.
"I'm okay. It's just a little uncomfortable" you admitted.
"Okay, baby. We have plenty of time. We don’t have to rush. Just tell me if I can move" he whispered against your skin. You waited a few minutes then as you felt that the pain and discomfort started to subside, your body relaxed too.
"O-okay. I think- I think you can move" you breathed out, and he nodded.
He slowly started to pull back a little then push back in, your body tensed up a little at that. He repeated this a few more times and he felt that your body slowly and you felt that the little pain and discomfort subside with every little trust.
When he noticed that your body was relaxed, he picked up the pace a little and he pulled almost all the way out before he slammed back into you which made you moan a little. He repeated it once again, and he got another moan from you. Your moans were music to his ears, and it encouraged him that he could go a little faster.
He picked up the pace again, but his trusts still remained gentle somehow. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you which made him groan. With this new angle, he was able to hit your g-spot with every trust which made you see stars, and you felt that a knot started to form in your lower stomach, and you know what it meant. With every trust your moans became a little louder, so he pressed his lips against yours to silence you. He didn't want the neighbors to hear what you two are doing.
He wanted to trust into you even faster and harder, but he controlled himself. He wanted to make your first experience good, so he prioritized your comfort instead of focusing on his own pleasure.
With every trust the knot in your tightened, and your walls clenched around his cock. When he felt you clenching around him, his cock twitch inside you. He felt that you were close, and he was close too.
"Come for me, baby" he mumbled against your lips, and you felt that the knot burst at his words and you come all over his cock. His trust became a little sloppier as he kept moving in and out of you. Then after a few more trust, he buried himself inside you and he spilled his hot cum inside the condom.
Both of you were breathing heavily. He stayed inside you for a little while, letting you came down from your high. When your breathing went back to slightly normal, he gently pulled out of you, and you winced a little. Suddenly you felt so empty.
You watched as he got out of the bed, pulled the condom off, wrapped it into a tissue then tossed it into the trash. Then he disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes, and you saw him return with a wet cloth. He kneeled between your legs then he pressed the wet cloth to your pussy which made you gasp a little. It was cold and it was too warm either, it felt even good. It helped ease the slight pain you were feeling. He gently cleaned you up with the cloth then tossed it onto the floor. He laid down next to you and pulled you into his arms.
"How are you feeling? How was it? Are you in pain? Did you regret it?" he asked.
"It was... good. I didn't regret it. I'm happy my first time with you. You made me feel really good. And I’m okay. I feel a slight ache though but it's not that bad" you whispered.
"That's normal, baby. It will go away. And I’m glad you felt good" he said as he pulled you even closer to him if that was possible and you wrapped your arms around him too. He pulled the covers over the both of you then pressed a soft kiss to your temple "Rest, baby. You deserve it, you did amazing" he whispered the praise in your ear.
"I love you Peter" you whispered before you fell asleep.
♡ SUMMARY: After fleeing from your boyfriend, it isn’t long before the two of you reunite, against your will or with it.
♡ CONTENT WARNINGS: pwp, afab, fem!reader, ex-boyfriend!peter x reader, peter being a serial killer, moderate description of gore, NONCON/DUBCON, fingering, oral (fem receiving), big dick peter—not great prep, p in v sex, rough sex, biting/marking kink, fear play, predator/prey dynamics, size kink, bondage
♡ WORD COUNT: 2.4k plot, 1.9k smut. 4.3k total
♡ STREAM NOTE: SMUT BELOW THE SECOND NSFW BANNER. this is a spin off from my @peachedtvs blog called 'Til Death Dont We Part'
♡ MASTERLIST. cumming soon! Main blog @peachedtv
Peter felt you were quite silly, even from when his eyes first laid upon you through the windows of your diner.
So silly, in so many ways.
You were silly in the way you spoke. Expressive, lively, words filled with kindness and rhythm. Words Peter wanted to lock away for only him to hear. Your voice always melted into his mind like honey. Soothing, calming, just like the music he’d hum to silently as he got rid of your recent obstacles. A heavy saw in his hand slashing back and forth, splitting bone into two before stuffing remains of human flesh into a black tarpe—or when he'd bring the nuisances back alive. Screams of pain, terror, and torment vastly contrasting a smooth melody muffled through his earbuds.
Your smile was silly too. Loud, boisterous laughs pairing with it each time as you’d close your eyes tightly, breaths jagged as you’d brace your stomach from the joy. Your smile so mesmerizing Peter wanted nothing more to lock it away behind a key. To melt away in the melody of your laughter, to spread it across his lips and adorn the smile as sweetly as you do.
What was even sillier was how silly you made him feel. On the surface, the twist in his stomach was sweet. An admiration, an appreciation of something so pure. Although,
Peter always fell apart.
Even in the room of his own heart.
Every silly thing had something inside of him twist. A strange twist, a bubbling feeling that had his gut wrench around itself—curling around and laying discomfort deep into his heart, where it stood mockingly. Unable to be buried beneath other thoughts, placed behind distractions, or replaced with another. And this bothered him.
Peter was always in control.
Control of his job, control of his victims, the police, his therapy, the growing police patrols in your city. So why couldn’t he control this?
What were you doing to him?
He thought it was uncomfortable at first. But that strange feeling was quite addicting, stacking tenfolds in intensity ever since the first time he felt it with you.
“Are you okay?”
By now, this memory had occurred over 3 years ago.
The first day you two had met, Peter was not in a good mental space. His family was in ruins, the relationship between he and his mother deteriorating until he had finally decided to storm out of the house and leave for good. Leave his home for good.
With nowhere to go, and a rumbling stomach, Peter decided the best course of action was to first fuel his appetite. Damn Diner was loud, painstakingly so. There was a mess of voices, the clash of plates, cutlery, dragging of chairs against tilted floors, chaos that hummed against a muffled out melody of tunes through the ceiling speakers. Everything was so loud. There was a child in the booth next to his. A mess of ketchup and mustard spraying everywhere, a glob falling onto his cheek as his eyebrows knit together in annoyance. There was a couple in the booth across, arguing over the cries of their child whining for a crumb of their attention. There was yelling from the kitchen, scolding as a worker had done something wrong and sent an order to the incorrect table.
And then, there was you.
Timidly, you rushed over to his table. Clumsy and expressive as you stared down to him with empathy, apologizing profusely as you explained the mess around the diner. And there, all the loudness stopped. Your voice muffled, muffled until it became strikingly clear and the diner around him seem to slow. Peter's eyes traced your face, how you were out of breath, how kindly you looked to him, how you asked if he was okay. And in this world of distain, you were pure.
And there was the first twist.
Peter spent nights going crazy.
Absolutely insane.
When he had first broken into your apartment, his heavy steps drowned out by the moans of your roommate through the paper thin walls, he thought he would melt into the floor when he first inhaled the scent of you room.
It was a soft aroma, something that had his eyes rolling into the back of his skull when he saw you laying peacefully on the bed. Your head was smushed between a folded pillow, covering your ears as your face was scrunched in discomfort.
"Lucy's being so loud tonight, isn't she, Darling?" Peter spoke softly, the back of his hand gracing your cheek as he sat on the edge of your bed. Careful to dip your mattress slowly so as to not wake you. Carefully, his other hand trailed up the curve of your torso, hip to waist, before entangling with your fingers.
Your hand felt right in his.
Soft, smooth, and warm against his cold skin. And there, he knew even fate was in his hands the moment he had yours in his.
When Peter had mustered up the courage to approach you in the park, he felt his heart beating out his chest, his mind going hazy from everything he wanted to do to you—from hearing your voice up close again. It had been nearly a year since you two had first met at the diner, and it seemed as though you had forgotten him completely. Luckily, Peter knew enough about you through his year of...supervision, and was soon able to swipe you off your feet. There, he became yours.
Your boyfriend.
And you, his girlfriend.
Often the two of you shared late nights after your dates. The hum of cicadas drumming into the background as you'd lay into the grass of the park the two of you 'first' met in. Your hands would intertwine together as the other would hold the grass below. In this park, the two of you would often talk about your dreams, aspirations, or talk shit about whatever seemed to bother you in your life at the moment. And Peter always listened.
In other moments, the two of you enjoyed each other's company. A silence paired with the ambience of howling wind, crickets, and a glint in your eye from the reflection of the moonlight and stars twinkling above. And through this silence, your heart spilled.
“I want to be with you forever, Peter." You spoke softly, you eyes still stuck on the starlight above.
A twist, something twisted once more.
For the first time, Peter eyes looked away from you—a blush traveling to his cheeks, a pale red hue over his soft features.
“Forever, then, Darling."
And forever meant forever.
Years together flew by, and you both had your own jobs—despite Peter's insistence for you to stay at home and allow him to care for you. Although, you wanted to work. You wanted to experience the world. But what you didn’t want were the unreasonable hours of overtime your boss had subjected to you. Much to Peter's dismay, many late afternoons he would return to an empty home. Full of furniture, light, decoration, but never with the person he truly wished the presence of. Every evening, you would trail home hours after him. Enervated, dragging your feet along the floorboards as you slumped into his open arms.
“I missed you, Peter.”
Your voice was like honey.
“I missed you more, Darling.” Peter greeted you softly. There it was again. Something twisted. Peter looked down to your visage. Dark eyebags staining your soft skin, a pout dragging your lips, your eyebrows furrowed slightly as you sighed from exhaustion. His gut was twisting stranger than usual. A mix of annoyance for those who have exploited you, an annoyance that made his stomach curl inside.
Peter did not want you to continue working.
Your boss had gone missing for a couple days now.
The company was in disarray, having strangely lost employee after employee ever since you were recruited. The once bustling, lively atmosphere became quiet, dull, and empty. And with the new loss of your employer, there wasn’t an office cubicle you could return to. For the first time in months, you returned home before Peter.
Although, something felt off.
With Peter home, it was always lively. The ambiance of bustling trees against the wind outside, a hum of the dishwasher from the kitchen, a low vibrato of your home's ventilation system, and the comfort of your boyfriend's presence. He was such a soothing soul. Without him, the home felt strange. You felt the presence of another, many, an overbearing amount. As though invisible strings clumped together to weigh you heavier into the floor boards, creaking the dark oak louder than usual.
Without Peter, it felt as though something was calling for you—and curiously, you began to explore. Exploring the home you resided in, as this home empty of your lover didn’t feel like a home anymore. And that lead you to the door that stood at the far end of the first floor. Tucked beside the laundry room, you stood still and seemed confused.
Was there always a lock?
A sturdy lock it was. Heavy metal weighing it flush against the wood, holding the door firmly shut to keep everything in out. There was a strange smell, too. A scent that leaked from beneath the dark oak doorway, filling the air with a musk of cooper and spoiled eggs. Your hand reached for the lock, flinching when built up static pricked your skin. A warning. But you held firm. Giving a cautious, downward tug as the lock went slack. It was open. You pushed the door back slowly, a low creak humming your presence, a flood of a strange meat stinging the view in your eyes.
Firmly, a familiar hand held your shoulder.
The hand of your boyfriend.
You were terrified.
“Darling, what are you doing?”
You couldn’t think.
Not with the view of mangled flesh, the smell of copper and iron so strong your head began to haze strangely. No, you couldn’t think. Even more so with scattered limbs decorating the floor—being the remainder of the morbidly intact heads of your former colleges and employer, of your missing boss. Pieces of them did not fit like a puzzle. Limbs, skin, so much of their bodies were missing.
What was that dinner Peter served these passing evenings?
And it seemed as though fate enjoyed sparking your memory.
This time around, nearly three years later, it was not scatttered corpses, blood, or flies that greeted you. You stood before the door of the fourth apartment complex you were going to apply to. Advertised as a gated community of safety, an exorbitant lot you were willing to hack up the money for to get away from him.
Although, just as three years ago, just as you were able to arrive to the complex, nails dug into your shoulder, holding you in place. A voice low, strange, and terrifyingly familiar. The grip dug into your flesh this time, keeping you from running—just as you did in the home you shared with him. With a door you shouldn’t have opened, and a hand on your shoulder that felt larger than usual.
Your boyfriend's hand.
“I missed you, my Darling.”
You didn't know what was happening.
You scrambled fruitlessly, trying to shove Peter's hand off your shoulder when a burning wet rag was drowned upon your lower face. You kicked, muffled screams and sobs as you dug into the palm that pinched the bridge of your nose, your body growing increasingly more limp. You didn't know what was happening, but by the next moment, it seemed as though you were melting into the floor—the world around you sputtering and glitching as your vision faded out and back in as you fell back onto a large bed.
You couldn't recognize the monster that was before you.
You didn't want to recognize the monster that was before you. Although, a rough, large hand gripped the lower half of your face, covering your mouth and pinning you down into the plush duvet to muffle horrified screams, forcing you to look deep into a being empty of a soul.
Even back then, you always felt Peter’s deep eyes had an errie glint. They seemed dull, strange, and detached from any wonder or interest. All until his gaze would flit upon you. A spark of light dashing his iris, a soft smile spreading his lips. He only looked human when he looked at you.
Peter still kept that smile. A smile that had morphed after his descent into maddness. Sharp teeth and bloodshot eyes that contrasted against sharp blues. He looked terrifying. His forearms were scattered with scars and wounds, peeled back scabs across his skin—likely from the amount of struggling you had done while in his arms. Your name was etched into his skin. Over and over and over, hearts and sharp lines littered as keloids formed in the place of his artwork. His size dwarfed you, a wolf to rabbit. Predator to prey.
“Pe—“
"You remember the time when you'd say it back, don't you, Darling?" He leaned down by your neck, breathing in shakily as though he couldn't believe you were finally here. With him. All to himself. "When you would say you missed me too." His voice was disfigured. A mix of insanity and dark undertone to his speech making your head spin and eyes well with tears. Your entire body was trembling, the skin on your back burning as every nerve in your brain set off sirens that resonated throughout your head. You felt too fearful to even choke out a pathetic sob, wanting to blend into the sheets below you.
Meanwhile, Peter felt himself going crazy. He couldn't help the way his mind ran a mile a minute as he stared down at your dicheviled form. You were always so pretty, absurdly so. Even as the strands of your hair fell misplaced over your face, even as you looked up to him with so much fear, hatred, and terror, his stomach twisted just as it did three years ago. That strange feeling laying addiction down into the lining of his stomach, soothing his body that felt run dry of how you made him feel.
He needed you. Now.
Peter brought a hand to his lips, hastily removing his right glove as he bit the fabric covering the tip of his middle finger, tugging his glove off by his teeth. His free hand pinned you pliantly down into the mattress by the lower half of your face, the other sliding beneath your shirt to tear the fabric off your body. You thrashed, muffled sobs and tears running down your cheeks, wetting the palm of his hand.
Your terror only fueled him further.
His hands groped and fondled every inch of your skin that one could imagine, a long tongue pairing with his touch as Peter licked a long stripe up your neck—sucking deep blotches and bruises of dark blue and purple hues across your neck and chest. Peter marked you as his, bit your flesh like a meal, and ruined your soft skin for his pleasure.
The mattress beneath you was in shambles. Inch deep tears lay by your head as Peter held back the urge to squeeze you blue, from ripping into your flesh, the torn mattress a goreish display of holding back the brutal cuteness aggression Peter got from the sight of you.
His hand slid from your mouth, gripping your neck tightly to restrict precious air from flooding your throat. He wanted you ditzy anyway. Nothing but a lifeless shell of who you were once he was done.
Pilant.
Obidient.
And what better way than halfway choking you out?
Your hands held his wrist desparately, nails scratching into his skin as he only smiled wider in response, stitches appearing on the corners of his mouth to prevent his face from ripping in two from his pure display of euphoria.
You hadn't stopped crying this entire time. Desparate pleas falling on deaf ears as you begged Peter that this was enough, that you'd listen, that you'd stay. And as convincing as it seemed, Peter was not giving you another chance to escape him. Not again.
His hand trailed down until it cupped your clothed cunt. Nothing on your body remaining besides your panties. A gift, perhaps—the best for last. Peter pushed your panties to the side, experimentally swirling the pad of his thumb onto your clit, causing you to wretch out a struggled moan.
"P-Peter—!" He only smiled in response.
"You've always been so sensitive, huh? It seems you haven't changed at all." His thumb pressed harder onto your cunt, rubbing your clit side to side as the palm of his hand pressed firmly down upon your womb. He watched you fall apart with glee, sliding his other hands between your thighs and gently nudging a finger inside of you. You threw your headback into the sheets, grabbing the duvet desperately, your hips trembling as you felt your sanity waste away to the pleasure wracked into your body.
You always fell apart so prettily.
Your hand shakily reached out to Peter, your lips quivering as a second finger curled into your cunt—the heel of his hand hitting the underside of your puffy clit as he kept toying with the bud. It burned, terribly so. Considering how much larger his stature was to yours, how much larger his finger would be to your own, it was a miracle you weren’t ripped in half yet. Although, it sure felt as though you were.
Peter stretched you out relentlessly, scissoring inside of you before curling the pads of his fingers plush against your g-spot. You arched your back desperately, crying out as your hips stuttered in response. And Peter kept prying there. His fingers pounding into your cunt, hitting your g-spot over and over and over until you felt as though you'd die from the overstimulation. As you reached out to Peter, he pulled a length of manila rope from his back pocket—grabbing your wrists before tying your hands together and in front of your chest as through you were praying—and perhaps you were. Praying to Peter to slow down, to be more gentle.
A third finger was nudged deep inside of you, pairing with the speed of his thumb on your clit increasing. His fingers pounded into you feverishly, sounds of your arousal soaking your inner thighs and his forearm—dirtying the sleeve of his pinstriped coat. You couldn't concentrate, no longer resisting against the firm hold his shadows had upon your wrists. No longer holding back your sweet moans.
A burning desire began to pool in your gut.
"Peter, p-please—"
A hand gripped your throat.
"P-Peter, please— I'm gonna cu—m!" He smiled to you. You were always so easy to please.
"Cum then, dear." His fingers sped up their speed inside your cunt, recklessly pounding and curling into you, bruising your g-spot painfully as you sobbed out, clenching your pussy around his cock as you squirt onto him. Peter smiled, leaning down to suck your clit and swirl his tongue around the bud as your mouth opened silently. Your hips struggled away, and yet his shoulders spread your knees firmly, the underside of your thighs thrown over them. Peter continued to bully your pussy past your orgasm, sucking and licking your clit as his fingers continued to curl and pound into you to ride out your high. You were crying endlessly. Begging him to stop, that it was enough. And yet, he didn't pull out his hand until you were merely twitching and whimpering in his bed. Broken.
"Have you lost yourself in the pleasure, Darling?" Peter was manic. Your pleasure felt like a high he couldn't describe. The way your fingers clenched around him, he felt as though it was a sign. A sign that all your struggling was only to encourage him to fight against you, a sign that you were only pretending to be scared.
"You wanted this, didn't you?" Your eyes widened open when you felt the tip of his cock slide between your folds, Peter having removed his clothing now too. You struggled, trying to sit up when his hand once again held your throat warningly, choking you lightly against the mattress—gently enough that you could take slow, shallow breaths.
"Peter, it's not gonna fi—!" Your mouth fell open silently as Peter suddenly shoved the head of his cock inside of you. Your pool of arousal allowing him to slide in with just a minor amount of resistance—minor to his strength at least.
Meanwhile, your eyes blew wide as you whimpered out desperately, struggling against the binds on your wrists as your cunt stretched around him. He was big, painfully so. And you were thankful he decided to slide the remaining of his length in slowly, inch by inch. And yet, even when he was just halfway, you felt as though he was already plush against your cervix.
"Is she resisting, hmm? I guess I can be a little rough, you were always into that, anyways." Before you could understand what Peter meant, he slammed the remaining half of his length deep inside of you as you screamed out, your hands curling tight fists as your nails dug deep crescents into your palms.
Before you knew it, Peter pulled out to the tip, and slammed right back into you. His pace was unwavering. A hand gripped on your neck, the other pressing you into the mattress by a palm against your womb as he split you on his cock. Peter pounded into you, skin against skin as you soaked his cock, splashing your arousal onto his pelvis and lower stomach. He was big, too big. Tears streamed down your face, and Peter only wiped them with his thumb before licking it into his mouth. He wanted to taste your fear.
He wanted to rip you apart.
Your chest heaved as his thumb came down to your clit once more, roughly pressing onto you before swirling it harshly. You arched your back, clawing at the wrist on your throat as you moaned, crying around his cock when the underside of it would press into your g-spot, when the head of it would slam so deep against your cervix you felt he might fuck himself into your womb. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, a hand gripping the torn sheets below you as you cried out when your pussy clentched around him.
"Please, please, can I c-cum—" You sobbed, looking down to where you and Peter where connected, seeing your cunt stretched impossibly wide for your ex-boyfriend's cock.
"Don't you dare."
"Please, Baby."
Fuck.
You drove him fucking crazy.
Peter swore he could’ve cum on the spot from hearing you finally call him baby once more, the name you neglected from him. The only name you should be calling him. Peter laughed.
"You truly know me so well, Darling." Peter's pace increased. His cock pounding into you hard enough to have your tits bouncing and the frame of the bed on the verge of giving out—your cunt clentching onto his fat cock even more.
"You can cum in three seconds." You nodded stupidly, too desparate to think.
Peter pulled back to the tip, slamming back inside.
"Three," His palm pressed into your womb, feeling the buldge of his dick against his hand, his cock dragging against your velvety walls. You swore you were going to die if you couldn't cum soon, Peter's counting teasingly slow as he fucked into you like a fleshlight. Like a pet.
"Two." Your pussy fluttered against him, Peter's fingers swirling your clit viciously.
"One," You whined, sliding your hands to his upper back as you raked down his skin.
"Please, please, please, let me cum." You were going crazy.
"Cum." You threw your head back, near screaming his name like a mantra as you clencthed around him, squirting for the second time that night as his cock continued to pound deep inside of you. Peter let go of your throat, his hands sliding beneath the underside of your thighs to push your knees into your chest—fucking you meanly in a harsh mating press as he refused to slow down. You felt like your soul was going to fall out your body, your pussy spasming as Peter continued to pound into you without any concern to your fresh orgasm and painful overstimulation that burned your walls.
"B-baby, Peter—please, I can'—"
And for the first time since three years ago, and for the first time together—Peter kissed you.
His kiss was soft, gentle, loving. His hips never stilled, continuing to rip orgasm after orgasm out of your poor little pussy. Although, his mouth was soft against yours, eyes closed and hand holding your neck lightly as the tips of his fingers graced your bruised skin. Bruised with the marks of his love, his obsession.
He held your face as kindly, as though you may be gone if he didn't keep you in his arms forever. Peter's tongue slid into your mouth slowly, and you moaned around him—letting him in. Your body missed him so much.
Maybe you still love him, even after it all.
Peter's pace became staggered, his hips slowing until he kept his cock deep inside and came directly into your womb. His load gushed out from the sides of your hole that stretched around him, stuffing you full. Peter allowed your thighs to rest by his hips, laying you back against the mattress as he continued to kiss you. His hands massaged your body, comforting the bites, hickeys, and bruises.
"I love you, Darling."
Peter spoke softly, pulling away from you. Admiring your fucked out state.
❝ ALL MY WORKS FOR HUGH JACKMAN'S CHARACTERS :: other links of interest may be ⸻ main masterlist. intro post. requesting rules.
ᥣꪮgᥲᥒ hꪮᥕᥣꫀtt ( xmen 1, 2000 )
“ clingy cat ” logan howlett x reader fluff.
“ not that kind of kid ” logan howlett & reader platonic fluff hurt comfort ( sh tw !! )
“ earth angel ” logan howlett & angel! reader platonic fluff.
“ test tube baby ” logan howlett x wade wilson & tony stark & reader platonic fluff + crack.
“ drunken hours ” logan howlett x reader fluff.
marvel men in.. the first thing i look at a man is his heart!
marvel men in.. teen reader crying and only them being able to calm you down!
marvel men in.. having an overly cuddly gf!
marvel men in.. their gf loves their abs!
marvel men in.. shy! teen! reader clinging to them around strangers!
“ the space between heartbeats ” logan howlett x scott summers & reader platonic fluff hurt comfort.
just thinking about... putting a collar on the wolverine.
ᥕꪮɾ᥉t ! ᥣꪮgᥲᥒ hꪮᥕᥣꫀtt ( deadpool and wolverine, 2024 )
“ cub ” logan howlett & reader platonic fluff.
“ mine ” yandere! logan howlett & reader platonic fluff.
marvel men in.. the first thing i look at a man is his heart!
marvel men in.. teen reader crying and only them being able to calm you down!
marvel men in.. having an overly cuddly gf!
marvel men in.. their gf loves their abs!
marvel men in.. shy! teen! reader clinging to them around strangers!
“ beer belly ” logan howlett x reader smut.
ᦔꪮᠻρ ! ᥣꪮgᥲᥒ hꪮᥕᥣꫀtt ( days of future past, 2014 )
“ her majesty ” logan howlett x reader fluff.
᥉tᥲᥒᥣꫀᥡ jꪮᖯ᥉ꪮᥒ ( swordfish, 2001 )
nothing here yet!
ρꫀtꫀɾ ( the son, 2022 )
nothing here yet!
gᥲᖯɾเꫀᥣ ᥎ᥲᥒ hꫀᥣ᥉เᥒg ( van helsing, 2004 )
just thinking about.. gabriel van helsing and angel! reader.
just thinking about.. gabriel van helsing and angel! reader (p.ii).
ᥴhᥲɾᥣเꫀ kꫀᥒtꪮᥒ ( real steel, 2011 )
nothing here yet!
ᥣꫀꪮρꪮᥣd ( kate and leopold, 2011 )
nothing here yet!
For the past 65 years, he has lived his life always following commands and has always found himself in a death-and-life situation. He never thought of the feeling of pleasure.
You and Sun Gu were bound to be partners on this mission. To annihilate the boss of this hotel, who is known to be a sick bastard and bloodthirsty. You two succeed in this mission.
“We've finished it earlier than we thought,” he muttered, his hand raised to support the phone.
“Great. You two can enjoy this day.” You heard your boss reply, and then he just hung up.
You sigh and lean against the wall behind me; there's dripping blood on your arm. You look at him and wonder why he is always calm and relaxed. He doesn't even have that many wounds from fighting earlier.
Your body started to heat up earlier while talking with the people here. You have no choice but to drink the drinks they've offered you.
“It looks like they put aphrodisiacs there, huh?” You smirked and closed your eyes when you felt your body reacting to drugs.
“Are you okay? Should I just knock you out?” This bastard is always like this. You shook your head and sighed. He nodded and leaned on the wall as well.
You two were in a room with corpses around; there's a big bed, a chandelier above, and a luxurious wall.
𝘌𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺... You clicked your tongue and gritted your teeth. Your inner thighs are wet; the effects of the drugs are taking over your body.
You looked at him and smirked. “Sorry, Sun Gu,” you said, cupping his cheeks to crush your lips against his. His eyes widened, and shock was written on his face.
He grabbed your shoulder and tried to push you away, but you pushed him down instead. You looked down at him and licked your lips.
He was shocked and tried to process what was happening. He knew what was going to happen. But for some reason, he didn't want to stop you. He can knock you down before you even lay your hands on him, but he let you put him in this situation.
You start to strip down above him, from your tank top to your brassiere. Your upper body was completely naked. You smirked when you saw his eyes feasting on your breasts.
You start squishing your own nipples and let him watch while you enjoy yourself. He snapped out of his shock state and started undressing himself above you while watching you.
He was topless. He looked up at you and started massaging your breasts. “𝘖𝘩𝘩𝘩” you moan when his mouth covers your hardened nipples. “𝘖𝘩𝘩𝘩, 𝘺𝘦𝘴.” You gripped his hair and start grinding on his thighs.
“𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘦𝘴” he swirled his tongue around your nipples startedd start sucking it alternatively. He groped your butt cheeks and grinded his bulge into your inner thighs. “𝘠𝘦𝘴!” you cupped his cheeks and smacked your lips against his, biting his lips and pushing your tongue inside his mouth, exploring his mouth.
You stood up and completely stripped yourself until you were completely naked. He unbuckles his belt while watching you until he's naked as well. You stood up, and he kneeled in front of you. You walk toward his face, and he dives his mouth into your cunt, licking your slit and pushing his tongue inside your wet pussy.
You smiled lustfully and moaned. “𝘍𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘖𝘩𝘩.” he didn't disappoint you, he licked your you slit repeatedly until you cum on his tongue.
You looked above him, only to see his tongue sneaking out while looking at you with lust written on his face. He couldn't believe that he would surrender himself to this pleasure. His original state was old, for pete sake! He was not a lustful man! He couldn't believe that he would let someone have his cock. He couldn't believe that he would let someone do this to him.
You pushed down on him again and kissed his lips. “𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘩𝘶𝘩? ”You whispered to his neck as you sank your wet cunt into his hardened and aroused shaft.
“𝘖-𝘰𝘩𝘩...” he moan and pant. He gritted his teeth and thrust upward while holding your waist. “𝘖𝘩𝘩! 𝘖𝘩𝘩! 𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘨” you moan and accelerate the pace. You bounce up and down while looking at his flustered face. His mouth was wide open, and his eyes were rolling to the back of his head.
You continue to bounce while pinching his nipples. He was blushing and trembling while continuously thrusting.
“𝘐'𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘩𝘢𝘩. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘖𝘩𝘩 𝘰𝘰𝘩𝘩𝘩,𝘩 𝘰𝘩𝘩𝘩” he said while biting his lips. This was foreign to him. He couldn't remember if he had this kind of pleasure in the past. He was just thrusting with no thoughts in his mind. He feels you inside, coating his hardened cock with warmth. He wants to come. He wants to shoot his gun inside you. He wants to come inside.
“𝘠𝘦𝘴! 𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬” He sucked your nipples while pushing the tip deep inside you.
He looks above you and sneaks out his tongue. You leaned to kiss him, nibbling his tongue and sucking it. Your eyes rolled back when you exploded on his still thrusting cock, and the next moment, he also shot his cum deep inside you while your nipple was inside his mouth.
You know I enjoy some recreational marijuana so could I get some pothead!Reader X tasm!Peter and/or Bucky content plssss
-Pao ☄️ (I don’t remember what my old anon name was lmao)
in addition to this ask: can we get more insight to tech bro Pete and his best friend? Literally whatever you wanna write for them I'm obsessed
less pothead reader and modding it for techbro!peter x bestfriend!reader
the three times you denied peter's offer to smoke, and the first time you accepted it
(three times you denied peter's offer is within the first 6ish months of being friends with peter, than the first time accepted is after casual)
A/N: this turned out way longer than it should have been (~4100 words) so i didn't write the full smut
tw: substance consumption (weed, alcohol), messy relationship/situationship, implied smut, sex under influence, peter's nickname for the reader is daisy (and pretty girl), peter jumping off a building
Nothing about Peter Benjamin Parker would read as a 23-year-old tech engineer and Oscorp's leading consultant. Yet, he was. Despite the barely grown-out bleached hair, the constant bouncing of his leg, the maroon hoodie adorning his body, and the blunt tucked securely behind his ear - This was the Peter Parker that Gwen had told you so much and so little about.
Gwen. Lovely, well-intended Gwen, who was determined to be friends with you the moment you told her you just moved to New York. Her bright smile split her face, eyes practically sparkling as she welcomed you to the city and subsequently demanded you go to dinner with her so she could show you the best pizza in town.
In her defense, the pizza was good.
After the first day, it was a weekly thing. Even if you wanted to say no, you couldn't. Just like you couldn't say no when she invited you to a little hangout at her friends' apartment. The nail polish you put on the night before was losing the battle to your nerves, anxiety plucking at the edges until they were all chipped as you stood stiff in the large kitchen.
Voices ran like static television, your mind trying to place puzzle pieces. The shorter of the two men was Harry Osborn, the owner of the condo you currently stood in, not an apartment. The vast walls were bare save for a handful of art pieces probably worth your months salary, the kitchen was sleek, and the windows gave the most gorgeous view of the city you'd seen so far.
Then there was the darker-haired girl who came in a few minutes after you. "M.J. finally, you decide to show up," Harry's voice had teased the moment the door was open, pulling your attention to her and clicking a piece into place.
It would have been really nice for Gwen to show you pictures of everyone before arriving, or even better, introduce you to everyone.
How long has it been of you standing at Gwen's side, eyes looking around owlishly as you took in your surroundings? 5 minutes? 10? 30?
"Gwen," Peter's voice easily cut through the chatter of his friends, his leg going still, chin pointing down as he caught the blonde's eye from across the room. "Throw that poor girl a bone and introduce her. Y'been here for 12 minutes and she's standing there like your shadow."
A sigh fell from your lips, eyes going wide for a moment before looking over to Gwen. Apparently that was the right reaction, because everyone started laughing.
"Oh. My. God." Dramatic, as always, "I am so sorry. Guys, this is the girl I've been telling you about."
It felt like an icebreaker on your first day of high school, or more accurately like Cady Heron on her first day of real school except the people here were actually nice and actually wanted to be your friends, right? Maybe.
Somehow, you missed Peter standing up and moving about until he was in front of you, pulling the blunt out from behind his ear. Despite the frat boy look to him, he smelled of cinnamon and amber, like you just stepped into a bookstore warmed by candles, and not at all like weed or booze or axe body spray like you were expecting.
"Wanna smoke? Help ease that anxious brain of yours?" His voice was smooth like warm honey.
"I'm good, thank you, though." It was tempting; it would help, but you also don't really know these people yet.
There was a beat of silence, his eyes scanning you for a moment. It was like he was analyzing you, every strand of hair and texture on your skin, until his gaze landed on your phone that you were flipping over in your hand, the flower design of your case visible every other movement. "Daisies." It was a statement more than a question.
"Oh?" You followed his gaze to your hand before looking back at him to see his eyes were on yours again, "Yeah, daisies."
"They're cute flowers." His comment was nonchalant, hand reaching in his pocket and pulling out a lighter before he took a few steps back, turning to head towards the balcony entrance. "Let me know if you change your mind."
Thursday night dinners quickly turned into Thursday night drinks. So maybe Gwen's friends did actually like you, or at least didn't hate you.
The bar was always so warm and inviting, a little slice of tranquility that was golden lights and friendly bartenders amidst the cold, concrete jungle that was New York City. Situated on the border of Brooklyn and Queens, and somehow almost directly in the middle of all of your respective homes.
The week had been long, and honestly, both you and Gwen were dreading the idea of coming out tonight. Shared sighs of exhaustion during lunch that were now completely forgotten amongst the group. It was easy to forget why you were tired when M.J. spent the better part of the evening airing out Harry and Peter's relationship fails, the stories ramping up more and more each go around. They must have done something to tick her off before Gwen and you got there from the firm.
"Okay, so have neither of you had a real relationship?" The question slips from your lips before you press the rim of your glass to them, sipping at the contents. You weren't trying to get drunk, not with another long day tomorrow.
The question causes everyone to go silent for a moment, M.J.'s eyes darting from Peter to Gwen before Harry pipes up. "Well, of course we have." His tone is defensive, but there's a curl to his lips and uptick in his words, "Last person I dated wasn't ready to come out, so we ended things. Dated a few other people since but nothing serious. Gwen hasn't been in a relationship since Oxford, Peter hasn't been in a relationship since Gwen -"
"Harry-" M.J. hisses out.
Gwen sighs, her forehead coming down to rest against her hand for a moment before she looks around, that tight look she has with a demanding client adorning her usually soft features. "She knows Peter and I dated in high school-" when she looks at you, her eyes soften again, "We just usually don't talk about it-"
"Because when it gets brought up it's the topic of conversation for weeks." Peter finishes her sentence with ease before picking up his beer. The clink of his empty glass against the table signals the end of his drink and the end of the night, even if it's not spoken.
"Well, if it helps, my dating history isn't much better. I've seen it all. The liars, cheats, and thieves. Oh, and a Republican." You offer before following suit on Peter's action and moving to stand out of the booth.
There's a chorus of reactions, the lightness edging its way back into the conversation. The rogue commentary is met with smiles and half-hearted reactions as the five of you make it out of the bar, the sun barely setting behind the buildings. It really was an early night.
Normally, by now, the sun is far past set, and Gwen is orchestrating the drive home on her phone to see if any roads are closed off. Harry, being the saint that he can be when he wants, would usually drive you home before dropping Gwen and MJ off at their shared apartment and going home himself, even though you live in the opposite direction from them.
But tonight? Well, this evening is nice. There's plenty of daylight left to light your way, and the warm spring air doesn't nip at your skin the way it has been the past few weeks. Your apartment is only a few blocks north.
"I'll walk home tonight, Gwen," you say just as you see her reach for her phone.
The look on her face is as if you just insulted her, blonde brows furrowed and lips slightly parted. "What? No. Harry can drop you off like normal."
You shake your head, tucking your hand into the front of your trousers. Sure, work clothes weren't the most ideal walking attire, but at least you wore flats today and not heels. "No, no. It's fine. It's nice out, I want to walk."
With the way the other three are looking back and forth, a bystander would think there was a tennis match going on. "I'll walk her home," Peter offers, her hands fiddling within his sweatshirt pocket. "Harry said it's not much different than the route I would take home."
Gwen's shoulders relax at that, her lips twitching with a smile, "You sure?"
"Yeah, yeah. Won't let anything happen to Ms. Daisy, I promise."
Your eyes roll before you even realize you're reacting, which causes Peter to laugh. "Don't give me that look, now come on before Momma Gwen changes her mind."
The walk towards your apartment is quiet at first. It felt natural asl you two turned the corner, blocking the view of the bar as you trekked along. Peter's hands finally came out of his pocket, bringing a little black box to his lips before he stopped his movements and glancing at you. "You okay if I take a hit?"
You glanced up at him, brows furrowing and lips pursing. "Yeah - yeah, that's fine."
He smiled softly before taking a small breath of the vape, offering you the device after he did. "It's weed." He stated, "Not nicotine. Do you want a hit?"
Your fingers twitched ever so slightly, before shaking your head, "No, I'm okay. Thank you for offering. And asking."
Peter nods before tucking the little box back into his pocket. "Thank you for changing the subject earlier."
You're not entirely sure how they convinced you to climb 20 stories and sit atop the roof of Harry's condo building. There was maybe a promise of good stories, good pizza, and the most amazing view in NYC, but even with all the good you couldn't get over how far down the ground was. If any of you tripped...
The summer air was sticky at this point, but thankfully, the dark, vast night sky was offering a much-needed reprieve. Specks of white were dotted along the ink, not the most stars you've ever seen, but the most you've seen since moving here. Looking up was an easy way to distract you from what was below.
You could hear the others chattering away, a few feet from your more than safe spot on the roof. Gwen and M.J. sat in foldable lounge chairs, Harry between them and Peter pacing in front of them as he sparked his blunt. There was a small table that held the pizza and drinks they set up before you got here.
"Hey!" Peter's voice drew your gaze to them again, his hand waving you over.
With a deep breath and a few steps that felt like molasses, you stood behind Gwen, who was peering up at you from her seat. "How are you guys not scared out of your minds up here?"
Gwen's laugh sounded as if it was floating through the air, "You get used to it, I promise." She looked back at the others before looking up at you again. "Peter has something he wants to tell you."
There was a wave of something that ran through you, maybe a horde of butterflies or maybe a tsunami of dread. Catching his eye, you couldn't miss the mischievous glint in his. He took another hit of his blunt before taking a step back towards the edge, and another another, and another.
Each step he took was making your hands clammy, heart beat faster. You didn't even hear Harry's complaint of Peter's dramatics as Peter took the last step up onto the ledge and fell backwards off it.
There was a rush of white noise. Your legs moved to take a step towards the ledge, but then Gwen grabbed your arm, stopping you from going more than a foot ahead of her. Just as you're about to turn to her, you see Peter bouncing back over the ledge, a thick, rope-like string from his wrist to the edge of the building and the blunt in his free hand.
Just as you registered that he was there and very much alive, he was registering the sheer panic on your face and the racing of your heart. He was quickly moving towards you, a broken laugh falling from his lips. "Woah, okay, hey. Take a deep breath, 'm alive."
The rambling of Peter's voice cut through the waterfall of white noise in time for you to hear Gwen pipe up with a "I told you that wasn't a good idea, should've told her, then showed her."
The hand that had been connected to the now disintegrated rope was rubbing the back of his neck, the light flush adorning his cheeks was a rare sight in all the months you'd known him. "Okay, yeah, Gwen, you were right. I thought I would be fun, ya know a 'ha gotcha' moment."
"You can't 'ha gotcha' after jumping off the building." Your fear quickly turned to anger, having erupted and quickly simmered down as you watched Peter's face grimace just the slightest.
There was a beat of silence before Peter sighed. "Just take a deep breath, daisy, kay? Calm down a bit. I'm not dead." He looked around for a moment before his eyes landed on the blunt, "Do you want a hit? May help with the nerves," He offered, sounding genuine.
You shook your head no, moving to sit at Gwen's feet. "No, I - God, you asshole! You scared me half to fucking death." You could hear the snickering behind you. "I want you to explain what the hell was all that." Your hands were waving around nearly comically, brain still trying to process what was going on.
"I- well," he chuckled softly. "I'm Spiderman."
Movie nights at Peter's were a rarity. Really, anything at Peter’s place was a rarity the entire five years you’ve been friends. Living with Aunt May limited what he could do, always stuck between not wanting to disrespect her with his rowdiness or there being some sort of renovation going on.
Tonight, Aunt May was somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic on a cruise and thankfully just the basement had construction plastic covering it, which prompted Peter’s suggestion of a change from the typical Thursday bar night to his place. The cozy little townhouse in Queens always felt like home; Pictures of Peter through the years and extended family members who none of you had met, knick knacks and art strewn everywhere, Aunt May’s hand-knitted blankets laying across the back of the couch.
Everytime you were in here, you didn’t want to leave. Tonight was no exception.
The movie was long over, Harry, MJ, and Gwen having left about 10 minutes ago, and you offering to stay behind to help clean up the mess of food containers and empty drinks. Peter was humming softly as he gathered the trash from the living room, his voice breaking through the show playing idly in the background.
Weirdly, warmly domestic.
Just as you could feel Peter’s warmth behind you, his humming dying down as he entered the kitchen you had finished up the few dishes, cutting the water off. “Thanks for your help,” his voice was softer, the way it usually was when he would walk you home.
“Of course,” your tone matching his as you turned around, taking the hand towel he handed you.
Silence settled between the two of you for a moment, his whiskey eyes warm, crinkling as he smiled. His slight stubble was more noticeable in the brighter light of the kitchen, a few gray hairs shining like glitter against the dark chestnut color at his temples. Was it the bottle of wine you shared with the girls or him making your chest warm and bubbly?
“I’m gonna go roll up,” his voice was that warm honey tone again, “Then, I’ll walk you home, ‘kay?” Peter’s hand hesitated at first, but once you nodded he reached up, tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear. The heat in your ears hit before the dryness in your mouth, Peter thankfully turning out of the kitchen just as you took in an unsteady breath.
Cinnamon and amber, the scent that was so undoubtedly Peter, sat with you in his absence. It had been months since that first time, but something about the way he looked at you tonight made it feel like just yesterday his lips were on yours.
He returned a few minutes later, stupid blunt tucked behind his stupid ear and a stupid crooked smile on his stupid lips. “Wanna smoke before we go?” He asked as usual, he always asked. Nearly five years of you saying no and he still asked. Except this time, you hesitated, and that hesitation caught Peter by surprise.
He pulled the blunt from behind his ear, rolling it between his fingers a few times, “I know you smoke on occasion,” he shrugs, “It’s why I always offer. But if you’re not comfortable, you don’t have-”
“Yes,” you answered, cutting off his rambling. Your hands came behind you to hold the count, bracing yourself as Peter took the tiniest step closer to you.
“You sure?” His voice was hushed, eyes searching your face for any hint of hesitation.
“Yeah.”
Before you can even process, that warm, anticipatory feeling tingling at your skin is being brushed away by a breeze in the late summer air with Peter leading you onto the back porch. It was dark, save for a string of lights strewn across the edge of the awning and the light coming out from the kitchen door window, and surprisingly quiet with the exception of passing cars on the street opposite the house.
He didn’t even bother pulling chairs up, bringing the blunt to his lips and sparking it the second the door was shut. The glow of the lighter bathed him in warmth like a campfire, highlighting the flutter of his lashes and purse of his lips as he took a breath in. He pulled at it a few times, making sure the burn was even. Once satisfied with how the end singed with red, he turned it to you to take.
Without even thinking, you didn’t bring your hands up to grab the blunt, instead leaning forward to put your lips to the end of it while he still held it. The paper tasted of chocolate, though the mint of his chapstick was evident and far more intoxicating than the hit you breathed in. Slow and steady, small as you tested the waters, eyes fixed up as you did.
“Fuck,” the sound was barely audible through his parted lips, the flush on his face barely noticeable in the near darkness. You could sense it more than you could see it, “Don’t look at me like that.”
The smoke fluttered around your face as you breathed out, eyes wide as you held his gaze. Despite the smoke, you could feel your mouth water, chest tighten with anticipation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” That was a half lie. You knew you were looking at him the same way you did all those months ago, testing the waters, seeing if the option was available.
The issue was Peter always thought you were looking at him like you were trying to communicate with him.
Maybe not always like this, with lust blown pupils and softly bitten lips, but he swore he could read your mind with just a glance. If you were irritated with something Harry was saying, or overwhelmed by Gwen’s protective nature, or confused by something M.J. was explaining, he could tell. If you were looking for your water bottle but not quite needing it or starting to get hungry and needed food sooner rather than later. The way your expression brightened when you saw something that piqued your interest or the distant look when you were tired but not wanting to go home. But, that just came with being friends for so damn long. He could do the same thing with Harry, Gwen, and M.J… mostly.
Peter brought the blunt back to his lips, the light from the kitchen hitting you more and giving him the chance to see your eyes follow the movement. He took in a hit, but when he noticed your eyes still lingering on his lips, he took in a little more. He held the blunt to the side, taking a step closer and eliminating the little bit of space between you.
Just as you were about to ask what he was doing, his free hand cupped the back of your neck and was guiding your lips towards his. You didn’t need to be told at that point.
Parting your lips just slightly as they met his, the smoke sneaking its way out of his mouth and lungs into your own as you breathed it in. Breathed him in. You couldn’t help the noise that left you, somewhere between a whimper and a moan, breathy and soft through the muffling of smoke and lips.
Peter didn’t pull away until you could practically feel the smoke leaking and dissipating through the small spaces between your lips. He leaned his forward against your, eyes hooded and he watched the last bit of smoke leave your lips. Once there was no more smoke, he turned his head and took another hit, repeating the process again, and again, and again, until the blunt was nearly nothing.
He lifted his foot, washing the roach out against the sole of his shoe, never once taking his eyes off yours. There was a heavy silence, foreheads still pressed together, your hands gripping his shirt from you steadying yourself once the world got blurry.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked, as if his lips hadn’t been on yours for the past ten minutes.
“Do you really have to ask that?” You countered, hands relaxing a bit against his chest, feeling the warmth from his skin underneath the fabric.
“Just wanna make sure y’r okay,” he practically slurred out, bumping his nose against yours. “Wanna take care of you,” his lips were ghosting over yours the same way they’ve been, vibrating against you as he spoke.
“What do you mean by that?” Your voice was soft, barely recognizable to you. You knew what he meant, but with the way he was whining, sounding like he was nearly begging. You needed your foggy brain to commit that to memory.
“Wanna take care of you,” he repeated, lips trailing across your cheek, nudging against your chin and ghosting against the soft skin of your neck. His stubble scratched ever so slightly, skin warm against yours. “Wanna kiss you, take you back inside and bend you over the couch, eat your pretty pussy unt-”
“You sound like you’ve been thinking about this,” your accusation causes Peter to pause, burying his head in the crook of your neck.
The heat from his cheeks were obvious, hands coming to rest upon your hips and pulling them flush against his, letting you feel the answer before you heard it. “Can’t blame me,” he counters, softly kissing his way back up to your lips, “You’re the one who bent over the couch earlier.”
“I was handing something to Harry,” you countered with a giggle, hands dancing up his chest and over his shoulders, settling in his hair. Harry had made an offhand comment about Peter needing a haircut, the soft hair slightly curling as it hit the nape of his neck and perfect to tug at softly. The gasp that left him sent a wave of desire through every nerve ending. “I’ll make a deal with you,” this was why you didn’t smoke with him before, every inkling of doubt and anxiety gone, feeling like you were on top of the world, “You can kiss me, if I can ride you.”
The grip on your hips tightened, “You’re gonna fucking kill me, daisy, fucking hell.” Peter breathed out, pulling back just a bit to look you in the eyes. “I can kiss you, then eat you out, then you can ride me until you’ve had your fill, pretty girl, yeah?”
content warnings: steamy make out, swearing, sexual content, suggestive dialogue, Adam Sandler.
word count: 1620+
A/N: Hi! This is my first EVER smut, I hope you like it<3
It wasn’t my idea to study for Algebra, it never was. If I had a choice I would abolish Algebra from every school curriculum and burn every math textbook on the Earth, but of course that wasn’t possible.
“Ok, now that we have the x-intercept, we can just insert the y value from the center and finish the equation!”
“I have no clue what you just said,” Peter’s exasperated sighs fill my ears as I complain about his teaching, “I am just so sorry, I genuinely cannot do math.”
“Yes you can, you’re very smart and very capable and not everyone can add, so it is a-okay!” Sarcasm laces his tone, a humorous glint twinkling in his eye as he sends a cheeky grin my way.
“Ha. I know how to add, 2+2 is equal to 4!” He couldn’t hold in a laugh then, dissolving my prior confidence.
“On that note, let’s take a break!” Peter closed his open notes and pushed the notebooks to his side, stretching from his position.
As he lifts his arms above his head, the edge of his Midtown sweatshirt lifts upwards, exposing his skin and giving me a peek of the definition below. Lean muscle stretches across his abdomen, tensing with every move. His impressive v-line cutting into his torso, deep enough to lap water from-
“Uh, you okay?” his awkward chuckles interrupt my ogling,
“Yeah, yeah.” Spluttering out an excuse, I draw my eyes away from his very rock-hard abdominals and decide to intently stare at the thread hanging from his comforter.
“Let’s watch a movie or something?” He couldn’t hide his unmistakable blush as it crept from the round of his cheeks and flushed towards his chest, oh how I wish I could graze my fingertips across the pink tint on his upper body and-
“Good idea! What are you thinking?” I mention, focusing on his words and pretending to not be soaking wet for my best friend, I quickly dismiss the thoughts plaguing my mind.
“I feel like watching a comedy, take my mind off all the calculations,” He said while scrolling for the perfect piece of entertainment,
“Besides, anything will be better than those stupid graphing videos she forces down our throats.”
His soft brown eyes catch mine as they crinkle at the sides, his soft pink lips just begging to touch mine. Leaving me wondering just what other part of him wants to be touched, what other soft, pink things I can-
“Ahem, how about ‘Grownups’? I need a little Adam Sandler in my life right now.” I suggested, I need to rein in my thoughts and I need to do it ASAP.
“Perfect, just what I was thinking. Good job, you’ve found something you’re good at, movie suggestions!” Peter nudged me with his elbow as I moved to climb beside him in his bed.
His very small twin bed where just sitting side by side our thighs were molded together and I could hear his strong, steady heartbeat and his deep breathing.
This boy is going to be the death of me.
He pushes his pillows in an upright position behind us and moves an arm behind my shoulders to create a more comfortable position. His nimble fingers gently squeeze my shoulder as he looks down to catch my eye in an innocent smile.
He has to know what he’s doing to me.
He leans forward to press play on his laptop in front of us, slipping his hold from my shoulder to my waist, slightly pressing his palm into my torso. He shifts back into his former place, bucking his hips upward to settle into the bed.
Many expletives are running through my mind right now.
As the movie begins, all I can focus on are the curls of his hair resting against his forehead. The creamy red tint of his lips run through my mind as I imagine every place on my body I want his mouth to touch. I thought of his even breaths becoming aroused grunts and breathy moans, I imagined his soft voice becoming thick with pleasure and whimpering begs falling past his lips.
The taut string wound between my thighs pulled, threatening to snap as I let my mind run wild. I mindlessly rocked into the bed, yearning for friction to ease my discomfort.
Peter’s obnoxious laugh startled me out of my fantasy,
“I forgot how much I love this movie!” His pink lips pulled in a grin exposing his straight teeth, a sliver of his tongue resting between.
“Peter.” My resolve was weakening and I couldn’t resist the need to hear his name pass through my mouth.
“A-Are you okay, Y/N?” His gaze passes from my lips to my eyes, his voice becoming low and small.
“Can I just try something really fast?” My heartbeat quickened its pace as I struggled to gain the confidence to make a move.
His tiny nod my confirmation, I turned to face him and pulled my legs underneath me. Gulping down my fear and apprehension, I focus on the perfect boy sitting in front of me. His deep woodsy eyes boring into mine, his face twisted into one of confusion and a bit of excitement.
I move my fingertips to graze the crook of his neck, dipping into his collarbones and watching a soft blush erupt where my finger trails. I press my hands into his shoulders and lower my head to the crook of his neck. I hear his breathing increase as I move my tongue across the velvety expanse of his collarbone.
Peter releases another breath and latches a hand onto my lower back, slightly digging the tips of his fingers into the skin. I lean closer into him, scooting closer and moving my hand to his slender thigh. My tongue sucks on the smooth skin, warranting more quiet groans from Peter.
His hands push into my back, gripping my sides, faintly pulling my body into his. I push off of his shoulders and lift myself to straddle his legs, settling with our limbs tangled together, his thigh resting between mine. I move from his neck to pepper kisses along his jaw, my hips gently grinding on his thigh, easing the desperation in my clothed heat.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Peter grips my waist and guides my movement, moving a hand to my chin, connecting our lips. His needy tongue invades my mouth, moving his hand to the side of my head, lacing his fingers in my hair. His teeth nip at my lower lip as he continues grinding my cunt along his thigh.
“Peter,” his name slips from my tongue in whimpers as he continues to let me use his thigh for pleasure. His wet kisses trail down my neck to my collarbone, he kisses into the swell of my breast, sucking gently.
He gently lifts me up and places me directly on his lap, through my position I can feel his erection pressing into my clit through my jeans, applying needed relief to the ache and leading me closer to my peak. His movements become more urgent as he bucks his hips into me, his hardness rubbing against the wetness between my legs.
“You feel so good Y/N, fuck,” His deep beathing becoming throaty grunts, he ruts into my sex as he furthers towards an orgasm. His kisses become urgent as he pushes his fingers into my sides, moving his mouth back to my chest forming hickies and biting into the skin leaving purple bruises on my body.
“Please, Peter,” My head falls to his shoulder, sucking gently on his exposed skin, my nails scratching into his upper back.
“Yeah baby?” His lips move to my jaw as he grips my chin to move my eyes to his, my pupils blown from the pleasure, husky pants leaving my open mouth.
“I’m gonna cum, Peter, please,” His hot mouth connects to mine, connecting in a feverish kiss. Hot and needy, his tongue strokes mine, his hands wrapping around my neck, his fingers pulling me even closer.
“fuck, cum for me baby,” His hand roughly pushes my cunt into his lap, attacking my neck with his tongue. His name drops from my tongue in a chant as I near my orgasm. My moans increase in volume and peak in a whine, my head rolls backwards as my vision blurs. My limbs tense as I ride out my high, moaning Peter’s name, my sex pulsing as I climax.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Y/N you’re so good baby,” Harshly digging his fingertips into my sides, Peter pushes his head onto my chest as he cums. His hips rut upward into me, his lips sucking on my chest in his pleasure; biting harshly at the exposed skin, his movement slows as he rests on my collarbones.
Our deep breaths mix as we come down from our high. My fingers move to his head, lacing my fingers in his soft brown curls, slightly wet from sweat. Using my chin, I lift his head, meeting large pupils and tinted cheeks. I kiss from his forehead to each side of his face, landing in a sweet kiss on his lips, licking at his bottom lip and chewing at the skin.
“Y/N,” His eyes fill with admiration as he licks the taste of my tongue off of his lips and gives a few kisses to my chest moving up to my jaw,
“God, you’re so beautiful.” His thumbs trace circles into my waist as he looks up at me.
I push lightly against his chest, turning away from him,
“Wait, have we gotten to the part at the water park yet?” My attention diverting to the laptop screen, awaiting the appearance of Steve Buschemi.
summary : peter is obsessed with you and he had to make you his.
dark theme smut, stalker perv!peter
don’t read & interact if you’re uncomfortable with these warnings.
masterlist
Peter was captivated by your beauty, addicted to your innocence and the way you act around the school. But he never got the chance to talk to you, it was just a simple “hi” when he passed by you.
He was quite impressed of how you were unknowing of his presence whenever you go, being a spiderman has its benefit. He could go to your room whenever he wanted to, watching you from the window. All the things he had done it just to watch you.
And now, he stood in front of your door, he knew it was impossible to think this way but he liked to believe you leave the door open ajar for him so he could watch you.
He stiffened when he saw you stripping down your clothes one by one, you were there unknowing of his eyes roaming your bare body. Just the thought of that turning him on, so much.
He watched you leave and entered your bathroom, he took this as a chance. He slide into your room carefully, walking to your bed where you threw your clothes on. His cock twitched when he saw your undergarments laying there.
He took your panties, bringing it to his nose taking a big whiff. He groaned feeling himself getting hard down there, he put your panties in his pocket before leaving your room quietly.
<>
You were pacing around your room, you swear you put your panties on top of your bed before leaving for shower. But now it was nowhere to be seen.
Whining loudly, you walked to your wardrobe picking the new one and put it on. Trying not to think so much about it, because you can always buy a new one.
->
Meanwhile Peter in his own room, was panting heavily, his hand holding your panties that he stole as he stroked his cock, desperate for a release. He kept thinking about how your cunt would feel so good wrapped around his cock and it’s enough to make him moaning your name louder.
“Oh fuck.. yes Y/n just like that..” He bit bis bottom lip, throwing his head back in pleasure as the fabric of your panties keep rubbing his cock getting him closer to his release.
“You want it, don’t you? Want me to cum in you so bad, hm?” His hips jerked as he teased his sensitive tip, leaking more of his precum.
“I’ll give you. I’ll cum a lot in you, and you’re gonna take it like the good girl you are, Y/n.”
He moaned your name loudly as ropes of white liquids spurting out of his tip, he make sure to land it all on now your soaked panties. His cock twitched uncontrollably as he painted your panties with his cum.
Peter stilled, sweats running down his foreheads as he finished. Looking at the art he just made, he smirked, you were one step closer to be his. He reached for the small gift box, putting your drenched panties in it before wrapping it.
He has to make you his.
->
You were sleeping peacefully before a loud knock interrupted your beauty sleep. Lazily getting up only to find your friend standing in front of your door, with a little box in her hand.
“Hey Y/n, someone told me to give me this to you, a little present for you they said.” You took the gift, thanking her before closing the door again.
You sat on your bed, opening the gift curiously. Your eyes widened, breath hitching, hands shaky as you found out what was in the box.
It was your panties that you were looking for.. painted with a lot of cum in it. You scrunched your face in disgust, who dared doing this to you?
You hurriedly closed the gift again, but somehow you didn’t want to throw it to the bin. Not yet.
->
11 pm.
Probably the worst mistakes you’ve ever made, going to the library at these times. You could feel your hairs on your skin rising up, getting creep out by the dark hallway. You set a fast pace for your walking to your room.
It was so dark, you often looking back to see if there’s somebody following you. You were getting paranoid, but you really felt like someone was indeed following you. Your steps getting faster each time and before you know it you were pulled into a dark room, their hand covering your mouth so you couldn’t scream out.
“Hey Princess.” Your heart thumping loudly, you recognized the voice.. It can’t be him, can it?
“Turn around and don’t make a sound, pretty girl.” You obeyed his order as he uncovered your mouth slowly.
It is him.
Peter Parker.
The guy you’ve been crushing on for these past few months.
Does he knew you got a big massive crush on him?
“P-peter?” Your voice was shaky, the nervousness taking over you.
“Yes, darling. It’s me.”
“W-what are you doing? Do you need something or d- do you need my help? It’s getting l-late.” The words came out just like that, it was the nerves talking, you embarrassingly looking up to him only to meet with his lustful eyes.. and desperation?
“Hmm.. You’re right, princess. I need your help, I need something from you, I need all of you for myself.” You were taken aback by his statement.
“A-and what’s that supposed to m-mean?” It came out as a whisper as he held up your chin with his thumb, leaning closer to you.
“I’ve been watching you. I don’t think you know how bad I needed you since I noticed you for the first time.” He brushed your lips with his thumb, slowly tugging it open.
“B-but Pete I-”
“Shh.. I know. Those innocent glances you threw at me, the silent begging in your eyes for me to fuck you dumb, I know it all, pretty girl. Don’t be so shy now..”
Your legs unknowingly rubbed together, feeling your panties started to feel sticky down there. Soft whimpers escaped your lips making Peter groaned lowly, pressing his body closer to you. You could feel his hard on pressed against your crotch.
“Did you like my gift, sweets?” Your hands tremble as you realized what he was talking about.
“That was you?”
“Yes, thought you would knew. How disappointing, but do you like it.. hm?” He tucked your hair to the back of your ear, you never know he could be this intimidating, you thought he was just some innocent superheroes.
“I- I don’t know what to say..” You were getting wetter down there as you remember that Peter was the one who did it on your stolen panties, creepy but somehow you liked the idea of it.
“Then don’t say anything. I know you would like it more when it’s painted on your face and your body, right? Or better.. inside of you?” Your body shook a little as you pictured every words he said in your mind.
“P-please..” The desperation in your voice making him groaned loudly. The feeling of his hands now roaming around the side of your body is making your body burning.
“Please what Y/n? What do you want me to do?”
“Anything.. Please Peter..” He smirked at your pleading, this is what everyone was talking about your innocence?
“Get on your fucking knees, then.” He pushed you down as he unzipping his jeans, pushing your face closer to his crotch as he let his jeans and briefs fall on the floor.
He forced your mouth open with his thumb, as soon as you opened up he worked his cock into your mouth, smearing his precum on your lips teasing you as you licked the underside of his cock. You feel him pushed into you harshly, hitting the back of your throat making you gagged instantly.
“You look prettier like this, gagging on my cock like a dumb girl.” Tears fall down your cheeks, saliva running down your chin as he fucked your throat non stop. Both of his hands gripped your head to meet his animalistic thrusts.
“Oh fuck.. You have no idea how much I’ve been dreaming about having you like this, Y/n.” You moaned to answer him, sending vibrations to his cock making him groaning louder.
“Keep being a good girl like this and I’ll give you my cum.” You took him on your own, wanting nothing but to pleasure him with your way. Peter was dying once he noticed that, his cock twitched in your mouth.
He quickly pulled out, jerking his cock in front of your face. Thick ropes of cum shooting out onto your face. It was all over your face, you stick out your tongue to catch some of it which make him moaned in satisfaction.
“Good girl.. My good little whore.” He took his phone out taking a quick picture of your face before wiping his cum off of your face with his thumb, sticking it inside you to feed you all of it.
Peter helped you up and pushed you against the wall, his hand playing with the waistband of your shorts. His lips attached to your neck, sucking on your sweet spot.
“Tell me that you wore those shorts and skirts for me, you liked it when I get off to the thought of you, don’t you?” You nod to give him the answer he wanted, but he wasn’t satisfied with it. A little slap delivered to your cheek making you cried out.
“Aww go on cry for me. Answer me when I asked you a question, pretty baby.”
“Y-Yes Peter.. I did it for you.. Love it when all you could think about is me..” He smirked grabbing your face closer to him before connecting your lips together.
You moaned into the aggressive kiss, his tongue slid into your mouth, dominating you and maybe he could still taste himself there. But he doesn’t care, your lips are the new addiction to him. Both of your salivas mixed up making a mess on each other’s chin but he’s still not stopping, his tongue explores the inside of your mouth.
“P-Peter stop..” You pushed him off of you to catch some breath, this man is wild. Peter stares at your flushed face lustfully, wiping the mess on your chin.
Before you could steady your breath he got your arms pinned above you with his hand, his other hand pushing your shorts and panties down revealing your sopping cunt. He groaned as he tested it with his fingers.
“So fucking wet. All for me? Fuck, so tight.” He moans onto your neck as he slipped two digits into you. You tried to wriggle out of his other hand, you wanted to grasped his hair or clawed his back.
“Peter please.. Oh fuck..” Your legs trembling as he stretched you open with his fingers, getting you ready for his cock.
You came embarassingly fast, making Peter chuckles lowly humiliating you more. He took out his fingers bringing it to his mouth to suck all your juices. The sounds of it make your face redden.
“So good, Y/n. Can’t wait to stretch you wider with my cock.” He rubbed up his tip against your throbbing cunt pushing only his tip inside, your cunt clenching around nothing when he pulls out just like that.
“P-please Peter..” You feel him smiling on your neck before wrapping your leg around his waist, pushing into you slowly before slamming all of him.
“Fuckkk..” Both of you moan out loud at the feeling, your cunt pulsating hardly around his cock unsure of how to accept him.
“This is why I needed you so bad Y/n.” Peter pushed more of him until it was bulging in your tummy. He picks up his pace as your walls adjusting to him, you were a moaning mess when he goes harder and harder.
The sounds of your whimpers, moans and sobs in his ear make his cock throbbed badly inside you, your cunt clenching him so tight and warm making him never wanting to pull out.
You grasped at his hair, his cock pleasuring you so right. He stretched you open so deliciously. His tip kept kissing your cervix hitting every spot inside you that you never knew existed.
“Gonna cum! so close! oh Peter-” Your body shook violently as you came hard on his cock, milking him with all you have. He groaned your name louder feeling you squeezing him tighter.
“Fuck fuck fuck. I saved so much cum just for you, and you’re gonna take it all inside you, yeah?” He bit your shoulder, his grip on your hip getting tighter as he’s close to his climax.
“Yes.. yes please Peter.. Give me all of it..”
You moaned softly when you feel his cum shooting up inside you, painting your walls white, your clenching walls only prolonging his release, marking you as his forever.
