— ☆ Peter Parker didn't mean to be mean to you, of course he didn't. But how couldn't he when he's so tired of having a double life?
He could be sweet and take his time with you, but when he's stressed he's just tearing up your panties and sticking his cock inside. He doesn't just wants to, he needs to. And you're very willing to help him out.
So when Peter is pounding into you as fast and hard he could go, he would say “y-you know i'm sorry, ri- shit- right?” and you would nod as you cry and whine into your comfy pillow.
And even if he puts all his courage into trying to be nice and go slow for you, he can't and you didn't want him to either. You like it hard, like it fast, like it mean. He'll put you in all the positions, making you stretch your body to it's limits and later when it's almost daytime, he treats you with all the sweetness in the world, cleaning your body and holding you close until he has to put the suit on again. — ☆
summary: just the tip with ex!peter parker
cw: SMUT, kind of pushy/manipulative peter but everything is consensual.
wc: 2k
When Peter fell through the open window of your bedroom, you had let out a loud gasp, spinning around in your desk chair, only clad in your exposing pyjamas. At the sight of your ex boyfriend, you put your hands on your hips, instantly abandoning the homework laid out on your desk. Standing up, you walked towards the hopeful boy, watching as he approached you, a pleading look in his eyes. “So we’re normalising breaking into our ex’s apartments now?” Peter opened his mouth, putting both hands on your hips desperately. “Peter just because you’re spider-man-” “Please.” Peter whispered, his eyes tearing up slightly. “I miss you.” He said, making you drop your hands flatly by your sides. One of your hands came up to cup Peter’s face, thumb caressing his cheek softly. Peter leaned into your touch, shutting his eyes as he savoured the moment.
You looked at Peter with concern; this wasn’t the first time he had come back to you, longing to be held. Things had always escalated to more despite telling yourself that you wouldn’t allow it to happen again. “Can you hold me, please?” Peter asked, ducking his head down to nuzzle in the crook of your neck. Obediently, you snaked the hand on Peter’s face around his neck and over his shoulder, the other one wrapping around his torso. Peter sighed, his own arms enveloping around the curve of your waist. You held him for a moment, inhaling his familiar scent as you gently stroked his back. From where Peter’s head is pressed up in the pocket of your neck, he slowly presses a soft kiss to your skin. You took in a sharp breath, jumping slightly at the sudden movement. Peter kissed your neck again, but you didn’t have the heart to pull away from him. “We can’t keep doing this Pete.” You mumbled instead, a hand finding its way in Peter’s soft locks. “Just this once. It’ll be the last time I promise.” You vividly recall him uttering similar words to you last time.
Sighing, you stepped away from Peter, unravelling your arms from around him. As though he knew what you were thinking, Peter added “Baby, please.” You let your head drop to the side, crossing your arms over your chest in an unconvinced manner. “Peter, we broke up. Exes don’t keep going back to each other like this.” At your words, Peter dropped to his knees in front of you, both hands landing on your thighs, softly grasping them. He looked up at you with his signature begging, puppy eyes, leaning his chin on your exposed abdomen. “You broke up with me. I’d never leave you. Just one night. Let me spend one night with you.” You uncrossed your arms from your chest, returning your hand to Peter’s hair, softly scratching at his skull. Peter never broke eye contact with you, leaning just slightly forward to press a kiss on your bare stomach. You tugged your short tank top down, hoping to stop the tickle from Peter’s kisses, until you finally gave in, telling the boy to stand up.
Peter followed you to your bed, chanting quietly “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” You tossed the covers off the corner of your bed for you to climb in, patting the empty space next to you for Peter to join you. He immediately climbed in next to you, allowing you to cover him up with the soft blanket before cuddling into you. You turned on your side, facing Peter and watching as he pressed his face directly against your breasts, both hands coming to your hips to pull you closer to him before his arm settled over your waist. Sighing melancholically, you threw a leg over one of Peter’s, tangling your body with his as you leaned forward, pressing a kiss on his forehead. Peter laid still as you played with his hair and kissed along with hairline, treasuring the intimate moment. It had been so long since he had felt loved like this. In fact, the last time he felt cared for was the previous time he had been in your arms, despite your complaints about these reoccurring meetings.
Finally taking his opportunity, Peter shuffled upwards on the bed so that he was face to face with you, nose nudging against yours. With Peter’s intentions clear, you had enough time to pull away if you wanted to, but you felt bad, or at least that’s what you told yourself. You didn’t want consider that the way Peter’s eyes flickered down to your lips made you feel engrossed in him, or that his lips also looked soft. You didn’t want to consider the fact that maybe Peter wanting you so badly drew you closer to him. But he was your ex, and the furthest you would go is a kiss. So when Peter leaned ever so closer to you to press his lips against yours, you didn’t pull away, allowing your eyes to flutter shut.
Peter’s lips moulded against yours, his lips separating slightly so his tongue could shoot out to lips your bottom lip, a silent request for access into your mouth. When your mouth dipped open, allowing Peter’s tongue to press against yours, his hand came up, cupping your jaw to pull you closer to him. Peter pushed himself up on one of his forearms, using the height over you to press you deeper into the mattress as he deepened the kiss, his tongue licking deeper into your mouth. You gasped, pushing Peter away by his chest as you panted in attempt to catch your breath. Peter’s mouth latched onto your neck, immediately suckling at the sensitive skin as he moved his weight over you. Peter held the leg you had on top of his to pull it over his waist, testing your limits as he experimentally thrusted his hips between your spread legs. You immediately gasped, pushing Peter’s mouth off your neck and sitting up straight. Peter fell on the bed next to you, a guilty look on his features. “I thought-” “Peter, exes don’t have sex. If we have sex, we’re official again.” Peter furrowed his eyebrows at your words, the same sentence echoing in his mind over and over again. But I want us to be official again.
“Let me put the tip in. Just the tip.” You looked unconvinced, leaning over to take a sip of water from your bedside table. Peter scanned your legs, your cotton shorts riding up with each movement you did. When you sat up straight again, you readjusted the straps of your tank top and crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly aware of the way your nipples were constraining against the fabric of your top. “Just the tip isn’t sex.” Peter pushed, adding a pleading “Please.” “You’re really going to get off on just putting the tip in?” You questioned, eyeing Peter down. He felt himself harden when your gaze landed on his covered cock. “Just want to feel warm.” He weakly argued.
You rolled your eyes, reaching your hand out to grasp the cotton of Peter’s t-shirt, roughly pulling him towards you so you could slam your lips against his. Peter moaned, softly holding your face, but you broke the kiss as quickly as you started it. Peter froze, awaiting further instruction from you. “Just the tip.” You warned, laying back on your bed. Peter instantly jumped up, as though he had to act before you changed your mind. He tripped over his trousers twice before finally tossing them somewhere in our room, and his boxers went next, carefully watching the way your eyes widened slightly in reminiscence. Peter climbed over you, his knees on either side of your legs as he hooked his fingers through both your shorts and panties. He slowly tugged them down your smooth legs, leaning down to press a single kiss on your mound. Peter climbed off you, manhandling your body to lay on your side and settling himself flush against your back. You gasped, feeling Peter’s hard cock poking against your hip. Peter wrapped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you back to stay put against him while his second hand guided his cock towards your entrance.
Peter’s dick nudged your tight hole and you shut your eyes tightly, listening to the immediate moan that ripped from Peter’s chest. You cursed, seriously considering to tell Peter to push all the way in as you felt his swollen tip dip into your entrance. Peter whined, pulling his dick out of you and you sighed disappointedly. Peter bit his lip so hard it almost bled, his thighs shaking in attempt not to push himself all the way in. He needed to abide by your rules if you were going to let this happen again. “Just the tip.” You mumbled absentmindedly, drool gathering in your mouth as you pushed your ass out for Peter to put it back in. Peter panted, trying to control himself as he put the tip back in your entrance, rocking slowly back and forth. “Just the tip.” Peter repeated, but quickly found himself losing control over his actions, and suddenly, he had half his dick inside you.
The both of you moaned in unison, and Peter brought a hand to the arch of your back, caressing your skin. He needed to take a moment or else he'd instantly be coming inside you. You reached a hand behind you, landing halfway on Peter’s cheek. Peter kissed your hand, pushing himself up to press kisses on your cheek and jaw. You whined in pleasure, rolling your hips back to take as much of Peter’s dick as possible. “Fuck, just put it in baby!” You cried, finally letting your put-together front crumble down. Peter chanted a string of ‘thank you’s, finally snapping his hips all the way in so his cock fully sheathed himself in your folds. Wrapping an arm over your hips, Peter shifted his weight to switch your positions, landing you laying on your stomach with him on top of you.
Whining, you pushed yourself on your knees, chest touching the mattress as Peter kneeled, gripping both your hips tightly before setting an unforgiving pace on your cunt. Your moans immediately increased, small sounds escaping you with each push of Peter’s cock closer to your cervix. Peter relentlessly whimpered, feeling his orgasm building up quickly, but he needed to make you cum. He needed to make you cum or you’d never let him fuck you ever again. Desperately, Peter snaked his fingers around your body, concentrating hard on finding your clit while keeping up the pace and brutality of his thrusts. You whined impatiently, your own hand finding Peter’s to guide him to your clit. When his fingers finally made contact with your clit, your toes were immediately curling, a high pitched moan escaping you. Peter squeezed his eyes shut, feeling your pussy clench around his dick. “Come on baby, cum for me.” He begged, rubbing harsh circles on your clit as his thrusts became sloppy. You couldn’t help your bodily reaction to how pathetic Peter sounded, your cunt clamping on his dick as you came, causing a string of curse words to leave Peter’s mouth as his own orgasm was triggered. “Shit, shit, shit.” He mumbled, whimpering softly as he emptied his loud into you, your sounds of ecstasy ringing in his ears.
Peter softly rocked his hips into yours, hoping to ride out your orgasm, but you whined at the overstimulation, and Peter knew it was time to pull out. You immediately slumped against the bed when Peter pulled out with a groan, sitting next to you to rub a hand over your back. You turned onto your back, looking up at Peter tiredly, and gesturing for him to get closer to you. With a hand on his jaw, you pulled him into another kiss, engrossed in the fact that this would be the last time you two had sex. “Last time Peter. Yeah?” Peter nodded, mumbling “I’m happy with that, yeah.”
But his words sounded so familiar you refused to believe them.
The soft glow of your bedroom lights bathed the walls in a warm hue as you lay sprawled across your bed, a tablet propped up against your knees while lo-fi music hummed gently from the speakers. It was late afternoon at the Tower, and the kind of peaceful quiet that followed a day without villains or rogue.
You had your window cracked open, more out of habit than anything else. Somewhere far below, you could faintly hear the city’s buzz. But up here, it felt like your own little sanctuary—until you heard the distinct clink of the latch sliding open.
You didn’t flinch. Instead, a slow smile tugged at your lips as you glanced sideways toward the tall windows just as they cracked open fully, letting in a gust of wind and a very familiar, curly-haired boy who stumbled in with a bit more flair than necessary.
“Peter,” you drawled without looking up, “you know there’s a door, right?”
He straightened, brushing wind-tangled curls out of his face and grinning. “There's no fun in that."
You turned your attention to him, a smile pulling on your lips as you placed the tablet away. You stood up from your bed and walked over to him, placing a soft kiss on his lips that he flourished into. Peter's hands found your waist as he moved you both from left to right earning a giggle from you. Time felt like it slowed down every time you kissed Peter. He was always so soft, so loving- so unreal.
You pulled away first, wrapping stray pieces of hair around your finger and twirling it. His eyes were glued to you-full of admiration and love. He let out a sheepish laugh before he removed his hands from your waist to pull his backpack off.
"Almost forgot, I have a surprise." He mentions, crouching down so he could unzip his backpack before rummaging inside.
"A surprise?" You ask, eyebrows furrowed.
Peter looked up at you through his lashes, a small awkward smile tugging at his lips. "I, uh… brought something. It’s kinda nerdy. Okay, it’s really nerdy. But I was thinking—maybe you’d wanna do it with me?"
You let out a breathy laugh at your boyfriends remark. "Pete, I don't care how nerdy it is if it means I get to spend time with you."
He chuckled nervously before pulling out a LEGO set. It had a massive gray spaceship and a number that read '7,541 pieces', the unmistakable title in the corner: Millennium Falcon.
Your mouth fell agape. “Peter, that thing’s huge.”
He laughed, cheeks flushing. "Ned and I pooled together some money a while back to buy one, and we built it together over a couple weekends. But then this one went on sale, and I kinda… saved up again. I was gonna build it solo, but I thought it'd be more fun with you."
Your heart warmed at the thought.
He looked up at you then, eyes a little uncertain. "I know it’s dorky. I just thought—if you don’t want to, it’s totally fine—"
You leaned forward, reaching out to cradle his face with your hands. "Peter, that’s really sweet of you. I’d love to."
Relief washed over his face like a tide. He beamed, leaning forward to kiss your cheek before immediately beginning to unload bag after bag of LEGO pieces from his backpack. Within minutes, your floor was covered in numbered plastic packets, the massive instruction manual flopped open.
You settled onto the carpet, legs crossed beneath you. Peter sat opposite, already sorting out the first few bags.
"Okay, so bag one is all the base plates," he said, eyes skimming the instructions. "And fun fact—did you know the actual Millennium Falcon in the movies was twenty-five meters long? The UCS model is over thirty inches! They had to build a full-size cockpit for some of the original shots."
You let out a giggle at his comments, "Really?" you asked teasingly. You loved it when Peter would give you random fun facts and would become completely absorbed in his interests.
Peter’s eyes lit up. He nodded eagerly, clearly thrilled you showed even a dime interested. "Yeah! But I think this is the updated model,” Peter murmured, nose buried in the instruction book.
“It’s more accurate to the Force Awakens version—but it still has the classic round dish instead of the rectangular one, which is way better, honestly.”
You smiled as you sorted. “You sound like you’ve memorized the schematics.”
“I have. Pretty much.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
Peter shot you a proud look. “Did you know the Falcon’s hyperdrive is a Class 0.5? That’s faster than an Imperial Star Destroyer. Han bragged about it all the time.”
“Oh really?”
"Also," he added, glancing up, "did you know that its hyperdrive was a class 0.5? That’s one of the fastest ratings in the galaxy."
You gasped dramatically. "Scandalous."
“And the reason it looks so weird is because George Lucas originally designed it as a flying saucer, but changed it at the last minute. The final design is based on a hamburger with an olive on the side.”
You paused, mid-sort. “Wait. What?”
Peter grinned. “Yeah. The olive is the cockpit.”
You reached across the instruction booklet to boop his nose. "You’re such a nerd."
"You love it," he teased.
"I do."
An hour in, your floor was buried in baggies, bricks, and half-assembled engine cores. You’d lost count of how many times Peter had given you little Star Wars facts. Every single time, you smiled and gave him soft, amused responses:
“That’s so cool.”
“Really?”
“You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”
He always flushed a little when you said that. It made you want to keep doing it just to watch him try not to squirm.
The Falcon began to take shape. Compartments, smugglers’ holds, the cockpit frame. Peter showed you how the dish connected, and you helped him attach the forward mandibles. Each piece that clicked into place made the whole thing feel like a game.
You were reaching for another gray tile when the door cracked open behind you.
“Hey, kiddo, I was gonna ask if—”
Tony Stark stopped cold in the doorway. His brows furrowed as he took in the scene: you and Peter Parker sitting cross-legged on your bedroom floor, surrounded by a colorful minefield of LEGO, instruction books, half-built Falcon parts, and a disturbing amount of laser blaster minifigures.
He tilted his head slowly, eyes narrowing.
“What’s Spider-Boy doing here?”
Peter stiffened like he’d been hit with a stun gun. “Uh… hi, Mr. Stark.”
You looked up with a calm, practiced smile. “He wanted to hang out. We’re building LEGO's.”
Tony squinted. "That’s aggressively nerdy."
"Dad!"
He held up his hands in mock defense. “Hey, hey. Not judging. Just… observing. Judging a little, but still.”
Peter smiled awkwardly. “It’s a really advanced set.”
“I can see that.” Tony squinted. “Wait—when did you get here?”
Peter blinked. “Uh… not long ago?”
Tony’s eyes narrowed. "Wait a sec. When did you come in? I didn’t see you at the door."
Before Peter could speak, Tony looked at the two of you- then the window.
Tony pointed at Peter and looked directly at you. "Did he come through your window?"
Peter and you tried to speak at the same time once again- but were cut off.
"How long has that been going on? Is this, like, a nightly thing? Is he Batman-ing his way in here every week?"
“Dad,” you sighed, “we’ve been over this—”
Tony held up a finger. “You know what? Nope. Gonna circle back to that later. But in the meantime—Peter, dinner’s at seven. You’re staying. No arguments.”
Peter nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”
“And next time,” Tony added, walking toward the door, “just use the damn door, kid.”
The hours passed in a whirl of bricks and giggles. Peter occasionally scooted closer so you could see the finer parts of the manual. Your arms would brush, and he’d blush, but neither of you mentioned it. At one point, he explained how the Falcon’s sensor dish was knocked off during the Battle of Endor, and that’s why it has a rectangular one in The Force Awakens.
Suddenly, Peter began looking around. He checked beside his legs and around the partially built spaceship. "Where’s the trans-clear radar tile? The one with the circular etching?"
You looked around, then frowned. "It was right here a second ago. Did it fall under the rug?"
The two of you searched every corner of the carpet. Peter was halfway under your bed, legs sticking out like some kind of reverse-spider-crab.
"Got it!" Peter popped back up, hair sticking out in every direction and holding the piece triumphantly. "I found it!"
You grinned. "Oh, my hero!"
He placed it delicately in your palm like he was bestowing a rare jewel.
By the time you reached the final few pieces, the sun had dipped beneath the skyline, casting golden light across the floor. Peter clicked the last turret into place and leaned back, breathless.
You both stared at the completed Falcon. It took up nearly half the floor space between you. In Peter's words, it was 'the second most beautiful thing ever made because you came first.'
Peter exhaled, satisfied. “I’m really glad I got to spend today with you.”
You turned to him and gently cupped his face in your hands. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you.”
He blinked, clearly trying not to melt.
“Even if it’s just building LEGOs and me nerding out about Star Wars?”
You smiled, thumb brushing his cheek. “Especially that.”
He gave you that crooked, sunshine smile you adored—one that lit up his whole face.
Right on cue, FRIDAY’s voice filled the room:
“Miss Stark, Mr. Parker: dinner is ready. Mr. Stark has requested your presence. His exact words were: ‘tell the lovebirds to wash their hands and drag themselves to the kitchen before I come up there and hose them down.’”
You and Peter both burst out laughing.
Peter ran a hand through his curls, grinning. “That’s definitely your dad.”
You groaned with a smile, pushing off the floor and stretching. “I should’ve known he’d call us out eventually.”
He gave you that boyish, shy smile that made your heart melt. “You sure he’s not gonna kill me?”
You looped your arms around his neck. “If he was going to, he would’ve the first time you came through my window.”
“…So just mild intimidation tonight?”
You grinned. “Very mild.”
Right then, the door swung open without warning. You were greeted with none other than your father, who looked mildly annoyed.
“You two elope and forget to RSVP to dinner?”
You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself up slightly. “We were on our way.”
Tony stepped further into the room, gaze narrowing just slightly at Peter, who immediately sat up straighter, like being caught slouching was somehow the real offense.
“You okay there, Underoos?” Tony asked, lips twitching. “You look like I walked in on something scandalous. Should I knock next time?”
Peter’s face turned an impressive shade of red. “N-no! I mean—no, sir. We were just building the—uh—Falcon. That’s all. Just the Falcon. LEGO Falcon. Nothing else.”
Tony gave you a knowing look. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
“Dad.”
He smirked. “Hey, I’m just saying—you tell your daughter and her spider-boyfriend dinner’s at 7:00, and 7:10 hits so I come looking and find his hands suspiciously close to your knee and you sitting there making oogly eyes at him."
Peter let out a noise that might’ve been a panicked laugh.
“We were literally talking about Star Wars,” you deadpanned.
“Uh-huh. Nerd foreplay,” Tony muttered. “The most dangerous kind.”
You gave him a look. “Can we not, please?”
Tony held his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. You’re right. I trust you. Mostly.” He gave Peter a long look. “Sixty percent.”
Peter squeaked out a “Thank you?”
Tony’s gaze dropped to the LEGO Millennium Falcon laid out in all its half-built glory. He tilted his head.
“Huh. Not bad.” He gave a small nod, then added, “I could probably build it faster.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Sure you could.”
He smirked. “Excuse me, I’m a mechanical genius. That thing’s like baby’s first blueprint.”
“You still couldn’t figure out how to open a cereal box this morning.”
“That was sabotage. Who triple seals Frosted Flakes?”
Peter tried and failed to stifle a laugh, to which Tony turned, mock-offended. “Oh, so now you’re on her side?”
Peter put his hands up, smiling nervously. “I’m neutral! Switzerland!”
Tony pointed at him. “Stay that way. Smart man.”
He took a final glance around the room, nodding once more before backing out. “Wrap it up, lovebirds. Dinner’s getting cold and I’m not reheating lasagna for two teenagers who chose LEGO bricks and whatever the hell you two were doing up here over my homemade masterpiece.”
You snorted. “You didn’t make that lasagna. FRIDAY ordered it.”
“Semantics,” Tony called over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hall.
Can you write Spiderman being a virgin and getting his first handjob and crying a little bit 🤧🤏
Undone by Your Hands (Kinktober 2025)
Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader
CW: SMUT, handjobs, edging, dirty talk, pet names.
A/N: Thank you very much for your request. I hope you like it!🌻🙏
You told yourself you came to Peter’s place just to do some math. You told yourself you were just friends. You told yourself you never found this nerd hot or handsome.
So why were you wondering what his moans would sound like?
Peter was oblivious to your thoughts, sitting on his bed with a notebook on his knees while you stood near the window. The sun was high in the sky, the air stuffy, the heat unbearable.
You snapped when he innocently rambled about exams—how easily the two of you would pass them. God, what a dork. He didn’t even flinch when you rushed over, snatched the notebook from his hands, and tossed it across the room.
Peter only reacted when you kissed his cheek. He turned red instantly—faster than you expected. What a sweet, innocent boy, you thought as you leaned over him, stroking his face and keeping his eyes locked on yours.
"Have you ever been kissed, Parker?"
He gulped, hands clutching the sheets. "Well, I… I don’t remember so… probably not."
You giggled. "You want me to kiss you now?"
You already knew the answer.
You’d always noticed the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching. Those small smiles when you praised him for being a good friend. The shadow of sadness whenever you used the word friend.
Peter nodded, tilting his head slightly. The sight pushed you to lean in and lick along the artery on his neck.
Oh, boy. His skin tasted so good.
"Math can wait, right?" you murmured in his ear. "When did you say Aunt May would be back?"
"In two hours," he replied quickly. "Or maybe three, or—"
"That’s plenty of time."
Slowly, you straddled him, placing his hands on your waist. He clung to you immediately. His breath came fast, lips parted and inviting, and nothing held you back. You sealed his mouth with yours before you could regret it. Peter froze when your tongue teased his lips—you loved how vulnerable he was like this. You wanted to wreck him completely, until he melted under you.
Kissing him was like savoring the most delicious dessert. You hugged his shoulders, broad and firm beneath your fingers, your hips brushing against his—not pressing, just teasing. You already knew how hard he was.
It probably hurt him.
And you just wanted to help.
Breaking the kiss suddenly, you pushed him back slightly so you could slip your hand between your bodies. Peter’s eyes darted between your hand, your face, and the buttons of his jeans as you worked them open. He wouldn’t stop you even if he wanted to—his body refused to obey. Maybe he thought he was dreaming.
He prayed he wasn’t.
Because that would be cruel.
"Why didn’t you tell me earlier?" your voice thickened with excitement as you cupped his bulge through his strained boxers. "Why, Peter?"
His brows furrowed, eyes heavy-lidded. He looked like he could cry from wanting you so badly. Embarrassed, he stammered, "I was sure I’m not your type."
That made you laugh.
"That’s exactly what I expected you to say."
You hooked a finger under his waistband, tugging down his boxers to free his hard cock, which sprang up the second it was released. The tip already glistened in the sunlight, leaking. You bit back a moan as you wrapped your hand around him and gave a slow pump. He throbbed against your palm. Peter collapsed back on the bed, gripping your thighs as you stroked him again. His eyes squeezed shut, small tears already forming at the corners.
And then he moaned.
Dear Lord.
His moans sounded heavenly—better than any of your fantasies.
You became obsessed with drawing more out of him. Your hand moved relentlessly along his shaft, skipping over his tense balls because you knew he’d finish too fast if you touched them.
"A-arh," Peter gasped, covering his flushed face with a hand.
"You like that?"
His hips bucked up in silent answer. Pre-cum slicked his cock, and you smeared it along his length to make the friction even sharper. He trembled, helpless, as you squeezed the base and then stroked him hard again. He was on the edge, ready to break. But just when he was about to, you stopped.
You hadn’t realized edging him would be this much fun.
"You want to cum, baby?" Your tone was soft, maybe a little teasing.
Peter looked up at you, eyes glassy and unfocused. "Yes," he breathed, biting his lip as sweat rolled down his forehead. "Very much so."
He meant every word. The tears were real now, his body shuddering under your touch. A few more strokes and he broke, spilling hot cum over his stomach, his jeans, and the sheets. Sticky, thick, messy.
VHS Log : One moment you're watching the ending of stranger things s5 ep4 and the next you're standing in the middle of a long super white hallway with a mop along with all the cleaning materials in the world. Where the heck did you go?
I had to write something for 2nd pookie too. (also too delay finishing edmund one-shots) This is inspired by one of my fave songs at the moment, and the one-shot itself is heavily, heavily inspired by A Bronx Tale!
Lowkey not edited at the end mb mb
Peter Pevensie couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t angry. But when he saw you on the train home he realized how quickly that anger could dissipate so long as he kept his eyes on you.
🐇 . *. ⋆·˚ ༘ *༄
"Peter, please don't get into any more fights today. Let's just get home." Susan ushered her brother away from the groups of boys that were also getting out of school and were loitering around the train station.
Since coming back to the city, Peter seemed to be going through some anger issues. His siblings were well aware of him picking many fights with any boys that either accidentally bumped into him or found amusement in how easily he got agitated.
Peter was always the one with a good head on his shoulders, but nothing felt right anymore. Not since leaving Narnia and losing their entire adult identities and then Aslan seeming to be truly gone. Right when they needed him most.
While his sibling understood, they also couldn't handle seeing the usual voice of reason fall easily into a dark hole of his own anger. It hurt them, too.
Peter scoffed, wanting to argue back.
But they were right, they should try to just get home without any more bruises on Peter’s face (or Ed’s, who had to get him out of those situations often and suffered the consequences). He let his siblings sit at the train station's bench in peace, leaving any possible school boys from facing his wrath to go by unscathed.
The train approached with its loud sound, blowing their scarves and people's newspapers away. As they stood up and entered the carriage, Peter took a second to glance around.
That's when he saw you.
It was like ocean waves had poured over him and refreshed him. Where his heart did not clench with anger or loss. He felt something different, something new.
Edmund was saying something about his new torch, but he didn't know what because his eyes were locked on you.
Like a beam had stricken him, you turned to him in slow motion and locked your eyes onto his. You smiled softly, before turning back out the small window.
Susan was now mentioning something about a boy that had been trying to talk to her since last week. But again, Peter didn't register anything she was saying. Because you turned to look at him yet again. Smiling with that smile of yours that seemed to beam a light only a setting Narnian sun could.
You didn't seem like anyone he's ever met, but you were wearing the all girls uniform that Susan and Lucy wore. You seemed to be around Susan's age, too.
Your hair was beautiful, your eyes were too, your lips the perfect shape and-
"Peter....Peter!" Edmund's voice rang out, his finger snapping in front of his face. That finally got him out of his daze and he turned to look at the concerned faces of his brother and sisters.
"Are you okay? You completely blanked out there."
Edmund knew his brother was going through some things, but this is the first time he'd ever seen Peter this unfocused.
"It's nothing, Ed. Just leave it. What were you guys on about?" He attempted to listen to what they were saying again. He realized Susan was asking him and Edmund to get more information about the guy who kept trying to flirt with her.
While he was listening, his eyes found themselves caught in yours again.
It was like a dance of eyes, a gentle waltz Peter might have found himself dancing during a gala at Cair Paravel. Yours looked to his and his to yours, before looking away again. Then the dance began again.
A few train stops passed before you began getting up from your seat. His heart almost sank at the idea of never seeing you again but was distracted when you walked towards him, smiling.
You barely brushed past him as you stepped off the train. His eyes followed you as much as they could before you got lost in the crowd of people entering the train. He finally seemed to hear the voices of his siblings fully.
"She’s in one of my classes you know?" Susan's voice rang out.
Susan was always observant.
No matter what, she'd notice a change in things. And when she noticed all she was seeing of her brother was the side of his face, she knew he was looking at something else. Well, someone.
While you had only ever spoken as acquaintances, she knew you to be a kind and quiet girl.
Totally not what she expected to catch her brother's attention, but she wasn't against it.
Peter didn't say anything in response, and Susan decided not to pry. The last thing she wanted was for Peter to back out from liking this girl, it was the first time in a while the wrinkle between his eyebrows had softened.
The next day, Peter decided he'd wait for Susan and Lucy outside their school. Totally not as a means to catch a glance at you...their school was just across the street from Edmund and his.
Very conveniently.
"Why do we have to wait here? We could just wait outside the train station. Isn't it a bit weird to wait outside an all girls school?" Edmund sighed, whining softly.
"Because..." Peter began, trying to think of a good excuse. Somehow, he managed to make a believable one, "Maybe Susan won't get flirted with by the boy she doesn't like."
‘Good lie’, he had to admit to himself.
And Edmund seemed to take it without question as he scoffed, fiddling with his school bag, for once he didn't choose to object.
Girls were leaving the school, but all he was looking for was a glimpse of your hair, your eyes, anything.
Finally, from atop the school's steps you descended. Like yesterday your eyes seemed to magnetize together, even from the distance you kept watch of one another.
You couldn't help but smile again as the handsome blonde stood in front of your school. You didn't want to flatter yourself by believing he was waiting for you, but it seemed that way.
As you slowly approached, he found himself frozen. And as you reached him, you remained frozen in front of him too.
"Hi." You mustered, continuing to smile at him.
"Hi...." Peter felt like he wasn't breathing at all when he heard your voice. It was as lovely as he imagined. "I saw you on the train yesterday…"
His tense sounding voice made you chuckle, you nodded in affirmation, "I saw you too...you were standing with Susan, she's in my class."
Your voice seemed to make an implication about Susan. You had to admit that Susan was very beautiful, and wouldn't be surprised if she'd had a handsome boyfriend from the all boys school across the street.
"And my other brother and sister." Peter quickly corrected you, making sure you understood that Susan was his sister, and nothing more. The idea of the appearance of something more made him want to yack.
"So they are all your siblings?" You said, peeking over his shoulder to the dark headed boy you had also seen with him. Edmund was also curiously peeking between you and Peter as you spoke. He made a small gesture in acknowledgement, but didn't want to come between his brother's flirting.
"They are." He confirmed, chuckling. Tucking his hands in his pants, he wanted to seem collected, totally not nervous at the way you looked up at him.
"Maybe…do you want to walk with us to the train station?" He suggested, licking his lips out of nerves.
You seemed to beam, surprised he was brave enough to ask you to walk together after seeming so nervous to even stand in front of you.
"I would love that- um..." You seemed to pause, realizing you hadn't even introduced each other.
"-Peter." He finished, smiling.
"I would love that, Peter. Thank you." Introducing yourself, you waited for Susan and Lucy, who quickly joined you not long after.
After each sibling had introduced themselves (minus Susan, who you already knew), you began the short walk to the train station.
You could see them all exchanging glances before speeding up, seeming to purposefully give you and Peter some space to talk. And Peter, who stood beside you, seemed to slow down as to have the time to talk with you.
“Where are you from?” Peter couldn't help but be curious about you. Since when were you around, and why did it take him so long to have you in his sight.
“I'm from here, I moved back from the countryside at the start of the school year. The war and all.”
Peter definitely understood that, and he found himself nodding along.
“What about you?”
“From here too…Finchley.”
You nodded too, it seemed you had something in common already. Two teens affected by war.
You glanced at him, and he somehow appeared more mature than anyone you'd seen before. Something seemed to lie beneath the surface of him, you got the feeling he had a heart of gold.
“Your scarf is all messed up, are you not cold?”
Peter had to feel a little taken aback, but at the same time, he found it adorable that it was the first thing you pointed out about him.
“No, I'm not cold…are you cold?”
You giggled at his response, shaking your head. To which he smiled.
“But maybe your scarf would look better when it's fixed up.” You abruptly stopped in front of the train station, and instead turned to fix his scarf. You straightened it out before gently tucking one end over his shoulder.
As you finished, your hands laid at his shoulders, looking him right in the eyes, as if you were truly trying to see his soul. Your eyes reflected the light like waves that crashed slowly into the shores around Cair Paravel’s. The setting sun seemed to be in them, even if you were actually just in front of an average London train station.
Again, Peter felt that wave over him, calm. His heart skipped a beat at the mere presence of you being near him.
“You have beautiful eyes.”
Your compliment struck him, and he could've damn well gone to Aslan's Country right then and there.
“Yeah well, so are yours.”
His compliment also seemed to strike you, as you smiled and shook your head.
“We're going to miss the train, Peter!” Edmund's voice rang from within the train station. This snapped both of you out of your puppy love induced haze, before trying to catch up. Your hands seemed to naturally find themselves tangled together.
At the train station you passed many boys and girls with the same school uniform as you and the Pevensies. For once, Peter actually, genuinely, hoped no one would try and start something with him.
For once, he didn’t feel angry or sad enough to think recklessly.
As you stood by him and the other Pevensie siblings, he felt the tug of your hand…you were getting pulled back.
“Why are you hanging out with him?”
A male voice, strangely familiar, rang out as the train pulled up and as he turned to look at you, he saw a boy in the same uniform as him holding onto your arm. He didn’t look too happy to see Peter at all.
“He’s a friend…he offered me a walk to the train with his siblings. I didn’t think you’d show.” You looked at the boy with a curious look, then glanced at Peter. “Do you know him?”
Peter was utterly confused, and so were the other Pevensies, who were hoping they wouldn’t miss their train for another possible fight Peter could get into. But Peter couldn’t help but feel his heart clenching, his chest felt strange seeing the other boy holding you.
“Who are you?” Peter’s tone was laced with annoyance, mostly because the boy had grabbed you abruptly. He wasn’t even sure if you were familiar with him either.
“This is my sister, Pevensie…and you.” He looked at you, and then right into Peter’s eyes. “He’s the boy that gave me the black eye a few weeks ago, you shouldn’t hang out with the likes of him.”
The words clicked in Peter’s head.
The boy, your brother. He’d had a rage a few weeks prior, and ended up accidentally punching the poor bloke in the eye when he was getting held back from punching another bloke who he’d gotten in an argument with. He hadn’t gotten the chance to apologize.
“Peter…wouldn’t.” You looked at Peter, but the look in your eyes wasn’t the same as before. You had to remind yourself that you didn’t actually know him, not really.
“Would you?”
Peter’s heart fell to the bottom of his stomach.
“No, you don’t understand it was a-”
“-Peter. The train.” Susan was now grabbing his arm. She already knew the situation would not end well at all. And their mother had already told them not to come home late like the other times Peter had gotten into fights. The conductor was already calling for the doors.
“No! It was a misunderstanding!” Peter pushed himself towards you, but your brother held you back.
He didn’t have the time. It seemed he never had time anymore, it always slipped away.
With a sigh, he let himself get pulled into the train by Susan. Lucy and Edmund seemed quite wordless. Susan, like she normally did when Peter got into any altercations, had a concerned face.
“I told you those fights wouldn’t get you anywhere good.” Susan began, sighing as she looked out the window. She saw and your brother speaking as the train began to move.
Peter couldn’t object. It was quite a silent ride back home.
. *. ⋆·˚ ༘ *༄
The next day, Peter was determined to make it right with you, and your brother.
He found himself waiting outside your school with Edmund again. Ed had thankfully agreed to play mediator, seeing as he was known for being the just one. He also wanted his brother to look as happy as he had holding your hand the day before.
You again, appeared before Susan and Lucy did. You seemed more reluctant to spot him than you had previously.
Still, you had the urge to approached him and you followed those instincts.
“Hello Peter.” Your greeting was still polite, and still, his heart softened at the sound of your voice.
“I wanted to apologize. Truly.” He sighed, looking down at his feet. Your eyes seemed too sincere to look into at this moment. “I’ve been very angry lately. I lost a lot of things. I took it out on people and your brother was accidentally someone who was unfairly affected by that. I swear I didn’t mean to hurt him. I’ll try and gain his trust if that’s what it takes, but I’d really like to be your friend.” Peter had to take a deep inhale before finishing. “When I first saw you…it was the first time I didn’t feel angry anymore.”
As he finally looked up at you, your lips were turning up the slightest bit. It was clear that you weren’t one to hold a grudge too easily. Especially when it was such an honest apology.
“I knew you had a heart of gold, Peter Pevensie.”
You smiled up at him for a moment before looking around for a moment- maybe seeing if your brother would come in and stop you from speaking to him again anytime like he had the day before.
“Honestly, I was worried you wouldn’t show up today. But I think you’ve proved to have a lot of courage to show up and apologize. I want to really be your friend too.”
With that, you lightly tugged at his sleeve, forcing his hand out of his pocket and into yours.
“You can further apologize by walking me to the train…we can talk to my brother tomorrow. How’s that?”
Peter found himself smiling a smile unlike any other before.
“I don’t mind waiting a bit to get into your brother’s good graces.” He joked, clutching your hand out of pure joy.
Like perfect timing, Susan and Lucy joined you all- exchanging smiles of relief with Edmund, who had beared witness to the entire exchange and quickly caught them up as they once again walked a good few feet ahead from you and Peter.
You had an animated conversation the entire time, even during the train ride, where you also got a chance to speak to the other Pevensies.
It was almost heartbreaking when you had to get off the train, but there was the unspoken promise in Peter’s smile that made you sure you’d get to walk with them again the next day.
Summary: Peter can’t believe someone as calm and put together as you would ever date him, but despite being complete opposites, the two of you are ridiculously soft and in love.
Word count: 569
———————————————
It honestly confused everyone at first.
You and Peter made absolutely no sense on paper.
Peter Parker was awkward, clumsy, always running five minutes late with his curls sticking out in every direction possible. He tripped over air, forgot where he put his backpack at least twice a day, and got so nervous around pretty girls that he used to physically malfunction.
And you?
You were calm.
Soft-spoken. Organised. The type of person who folded receipts neatly into your purse and remembered everyone’s birthday. You liked quiet cafés, rainy afternoons, and keeping your room spotless. Your clothes were always perfectly coordinated, your handwriting looked printed, and you somehow never panicked about anything.
People expected you to get annoyed with Peter eventually.
But instead, you looked at him like he hung the stars.
And Peter looked at you like he couldn’t believe someone like you existed.
—
“You know,” Peter mumbled one evening, “I still think you accidentally agreed to date me.”
You looked up from where your head rested on his shoulder. “Peter.”
“I’m serious,” he said, laughing nervously. “Like… you’re you.” He gestured vaguely. “And I’m just some guy who almost got hit by a bike this morning because I got distracted by a dog.”
“You did get hit by the bike.”
“Okay, rude.”
You giggled softly, and Peter immediately lost his train of thought.
That kept happening lately.
You’d smile at him and suddenly he forgot how to function like a normal human being.
The two of you were curled up together on his bed while a movie played quietly in the background, though neither of you had paid attention to it for at least thirty minutes. Peter’s arm was around your waist while you absentmindedly played with his fingers.
It was still new.
That was the thing.
Peter still got surprised every time you reached for his hand first or kissed his cheek casually like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Because for so long, Peter thought love had to be loud and dramatic and complicated.
But with you, it was gentle.
Easy.
Safe.
“You’re staring again,” you teased quietly.
Peter blinked. “Sorry.”
“No you’re not.”
“…No, not really.”
Your laugh made his chest feel warm.
He leaned forward before he could overthink it, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead. You immediately melted closer into him, and Peter swore his heart almost exploded.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispered without thinking.
You buried your face into his hoodie instantly. “Don’t do that.”
“What? Tell the truth?”
“You make me shy.”
Peter grinned so hard his cheeks hurt.
“You know what’s crazy?” he said.
“What?”
“A few months ago I thought you were way too cool to even talk to me.”
You lifted your head just enough to look at him. “Peter, the first time we met, you dropped your entire backpack because I said hi.”
“In my defence, you were very pretty.”
“You called me ma’am.”
Peter groaned dramatically and hid his face in your shoulder. “Please don’t remind me.”
You laughed again, wrapping your arms around him tighter.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
Just soft breathing. The movie still playing quietly. The warmth of each other.
And Peter realised this — this right here — was his favourite thing in the world.
Not swinging through New York.
Not being Spider-Man.
Just you, tangled up with him like you belonged there.
