⤷ ゛Finding out something new about Peter when he cums .ˎˊ˗ - BND SPOILERS
This whole organic web thing was chaotic. Both for you and Peter. For him, not knowing really how to control it and for you, not knowing when he’s gonna spray web stuff all over the apartment or literally anywhere. Luckily, he seemed to have gotten it figured out over the last few days. Keyword, seemed.
Right now, Peter was lying against the pillows of your shared bed. His hands were at your sides as the two of you kissed. Your hands, though, were busy. One was wrapped around his cock while the other held his face. Whenever either of you pulled away to breathe, Peter’s lips were still near yours, huffing out whines and moans.
Sometimes even a desperate string of pleas left his mouth in an attempt to urge you on, make you move more faster and give him more of what he needed. “Pleasepleaseplease.” He whimpered as he looked up at you. God he looked a mess. In a good way! Tears welled up in his eyes before streaming down his face, lips all read and swollen from the amount of times you’ve kissed and how many times he’s bitten them to keep quiet. You could go on. How could you deny him, though? Look at him! He’s saved lives today even through the concerning amount of change his body is going through.
You literally saw him get thrown into a building on live television. If that’s not a reason to give him what he wants then he doesn’t know what is. Luckily for him his eyes are like magic and unfortunately very strong to turn down, so you bless him with what he wants, or what you think he wants. With a smile from admiring your work, you move Peter’s head to the left, giving you more access to his neck. Then you press your lips gently and begin to kiss and lightly nip allll around while the hand on his cock teases his tip, getting him closer to cumming by every second. Peter bucks his hips up, his hands practically clawing at your sides all while spewing out apologies because he’s 90% sure he’s hurting you. Which he is but you don’t seem to mind though. All you’re focused on is the sounds he’s letting out and how loud he’s being. There’s probably a complaint being issued right at this moment.
Not even a few seconds later, Peter warns you that he’s about to cum. Which is a signal, as you take it, to quicken your pace. He suddenly doesn’t know what to do with his hands, like at all. One minute they were on you, the next they’re gripping the sheets, and so on. You didn’t care honestly. If anything it was kinda funny. But what caught your attention was when he did cum, he was way more vocal than usual, and how you saw in your peripheral vision that his hand jerked and web fluid shot out. You were surprised and Peter didn’t seem to register what happened until after when he calmed down and collected himself. Soon noticing the web on the wall furthest from the bed. You both just stared at each other like a deer in headlights until one of you started to smile and laugh “Did I just—?”
“Yep..” you were both in disbelief, but if anything you were more amused than he was. “We’re so trying that again.” You said, not even giving him a chance to reply. Though based on his facial expression you knew he was down to find out more about this discovery.
—
I watched the movie today and it was so good I loved it sm 🥹
description: patching up peter parker after a particularly rough patrol, only to find out he kinda likes the pain....
⌯⌲ content warnings: smut mdni, masochist peter, dry humping, face slapping (but gently i promise), handjob, use of 'girl' to decribe reader once but genderneutral aside from that i think, not proofread! i'm lazy sorry
word count: 2.6k
note: this was supposed to be a really short blurb but guess who can't shut their gob... it's me
you're fussing and cooing as he collapses onto your couch. specifically for this scenario, you'd decided to keep a changeable blanket over the couch at all times. and you were glad for it, because the gash on peter's side was anything but pretty, and anything but clean. droplets of blood trickled down his skin, and you quickly dabbed at it with a cotton pad before disinfecting the wound. peter hissed, eyes screwed shut as he sprawled on your couch with the flair of a man who was used to being tended to by you.
truthfully, you don't really know how you formed this bond—alliance, if you will. all you knew was that spiderman had saved you from some very creepy men on a late night, even though he was already limping from some other fight he'd gotten into. in return, you had insisted he let you drag him to your apartment to take care of him, ignoring his awkward stuttering resistance of not wanting to bother or intrude. later, the other, more pressing reason for not wanting to spend too much time with you as spiderman had clicked in your head.
because peter parker was spiderman, and while you didn't have an iq of einstein's level, it didn't take long for you to connect the dots between the friendly neighbourhood superhero and your upstairs neighbor, the one who spend his friday nights in your apartment watching lord of the rings with you after having prepared an arsenal of snacks together, or his sunday mornings lounging on your couch while you finished the crossword puzzle in the paper.
and peter parker was many things, but he was not a good liar. so when your suspicion rose and you started putting pressure on certain points, asking all the right questions that spiderman couldn't answer nor evade in a way that was anything less than suspicious, it only took one face-to-face confrontation with peter to unearth the mystery all of new york was so desperate to uncover: who is behind the red and blue mask?
peter denied, of course. in typical peter style, but you saw straight through him anyway, and when you started searching his apartment, he only grew more frantic in his denial. when you held up his suit—he really didn't hide it that well, but then again, he probably didn't have a lot of house-searches anyway—his mouth clamped shut and denial was out of the question.
from that day onward, you became spiderman's self-appointed guy in the chair. peter was dead set on not letting you in on any of the actual dangerous stuff, claiming just knowing him was already dangerous enough, but he couldn't deny it was nice to have someone look out for him again, someone to come home to and someone to worry about him.
which is why he let you move him around, cleaning his wounds and fussing over him like he was a kicked puppy, even though he really wasn't in that bad of a state. maybe he liked being taken care of every once or so, sue him.
"does it hurt much?" you question when he hisses, feeling whatever medicine you're using trickle into his wound.
"'ve had worse," he mumbles, twitching away involuntarily.
you roll your eyes, pressing a little harder into the wound than strictly necessary.
"ow!" he yelps, pouting at you in hopes of it softening your resolve again. he chooses to ignore the pull he felt in his groin when the pain shot up his side. that was a psychological question he doesn't have the will to find the answer to right now.
you continue to work in silence after that, finally bandaging his side fully. the wound has already ameliorated significantly, his superpowers doing their work. you skim your hands over the bruises on his face and neck, and peter has to suppress a shudder at the feeling.
you're sitting up now, much closer to him than you'd anticipated, and for a moment, the breath gets sucked out of your lungs.
his face is so close. you can see every little cut, every freckle, every stubble and mole and imperfection that make him so beautifully him. your eyes drop down to his lips, at last, immediately flicking up again with every intention to move yourself away from him when you notice the look on his face.
much like yours, his eyes have dropped, too, almost mesmerized as he watches your tongue flick over your lips, wetting them.
throwing all caution in the wind, you surge forward to capture his mouth with yours, startling him enough to punch out a small gasp from his lungs. it takes a moment for the action to register in his brain, but when it does, peter kisses you back with such intensity, pouring all of the want and need that has been building for months into your heart through your connected lips.
you move quickly, overtaking by a haze and a want that has been lingering for far too long now, straddling his lap. he leans back on the couch, planting a hand on the back of your neck to take you with him and keep your feverishly hot lips against his.
the kiss is messy, and uncoordinated, and you're pretty sure your teeth full-on clank against his at some point. but peter doesn't seem to care, moving a hand to your waist to pull you even closer. with the roll of your hips against his, a groan tumbles out of his mouth and into yours as he feels the pressure on his cock.
and that's when the magic happens; you shift to find a more comfortable position, and lose your balance just slightly. your hand shoots out to stabilise yourself, landing right on the wound you've just bandaged.
and peter groans, loud and unchecked, immediately sparking a sense of worry in your chest because oh no, you've just basically pressed into his wound and he's in so much pain and—
you feel something twitch against your thigh, and your eyes flick up to his face. he does look like he's in anguish; brows furrowed, eyes glazed over like he's about to cry and his teeth clenched. he's gripping your hand with a bruising force, you're sure your wrist will feel a little sore tomorrow, but instead of trying to push you off like you'd expect, he's pressing your hand down harder.
oh.
"now what do we have here," you muse slowly, and peter's eyes flick to yours from whatever nothingness on the ceiling they were staring at. he lets you go like he's been burned, abruptly, breathing shallowly. it looks like he already came and is just coming down from an orgasm, but no, you've only just begun.
"i'm—i don't know," he pants, trying to sit up a little straighter, holding your waist to keep you seated.
"do you like it," you start slowly, trailing your hand down his side again, "when i do this?"
and when you add just the slightest pressure... peter's body sags, his head falling back against the couch. his mouth opens but no sound comes out, no answer to your question. you nudge your hips forward tentatively, and his clothed cock bumps your clit, causing a jolt of pleasure to shoot up your spine.
"you do, huh?" your other hand moves to carress his face, and peter keens, leaning into your palm like a puppy.
when he still doesn't give any verbal answer, you grab his cheeks, squeezing them together.
"speak up, parker."
so he nods, as best as he can with your grip on his face. "yes."
you press down on his bandaged side more forcefully, still grinding your hips over his erection, and his back arches off the couch as a whimper escapes his lips. "what, yes?"
"i like it!" he cries out, nearly knocking you off his lap with the way his hips buck up suddenly.
"oh." you have to close your eyes briefly at the admission, because your poor heart really can't have him saying stuff like that, looking like this. and then you're kissing him again, and it's a kiss with vigor, with authority, one that pushes his head deep into the soft headrest of the couch. peter moans against your lips, into your mouth, letting you take and push and prod all you like.
you let go of him, then, removing your hands from his side and face. you lean back to take a good look at him, to commit this vision to memory, and a vision it is. peter's still panting, eyes fluttering open when he feels you move away, chest going up and down rapidly while his hips twitch. when his eyes lock onto yours, you notice the wetness around them. did he actually cry? maybe you've gone a little too rough on him.
you brush a strand of hair from his forehead, whispering, "are you okay? did it hurt?"
"well, yeah," he admits, before awkwardly adding, "but i liked it."
"oh man," you grin. "you are fucked up."
"hey!" a flush creeps up his neck. "don't bully me."
"hm." you lean closer, brushing your lips over his, and his eyes droop. "i think it's hot."
"oh," he punches out, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides like he doesn't quite know where to put them. "...you do?"
"yeah," a smirk pulls at your lips, and you move down to kiss over his jaw. "i think you look really hot when you're gasping and crying out in pain."
"and you call me fucked up," he scoffs. "pervert."
you cup him through his pants unexpectedly, and peter's hips jolt up at the sudden feeling.
"you're the one who's been hard since before we even kissed," you murmur against his jaw, before tracing a path with your tongue toward his ear that has him shuddering.
"well— what do you expect, when i have a pretty girl basically sitting in my lap while she's patching me up!"
"and pressing on your bruises, let's not forget." you hum, pondering for a moment. "so you think i'm pretty?"
peter scoffs weakly. "don't let it get to your head."
"too late," you grin. "it's already in my head."
he shakes his head at you, but a dopey smile spreads on his face nonetheless. in a moment of affection, he surges forward to place a soft kiss on your lips, one that makes you forget how pent up you are and how delicious he's looking. one that reminds you it's peter, your best friend, your upstairs neighbor, new york's most selfless superhero. and you smile softly at him when you part, before pressing a kiss on the corner of his mouth, and then one on his cheek, his jaw, his nose, his forehead, just anywhere you can reach.
you pepper his face with kisses until he's practically giggling underneath you, the hand on his bulge long forgotten.
that is, until you squeeze him again. the laugh dies in his throat, making way for a sharp gasp as his eyes widen. peter's hips jolt up involuntarily, like he's been struck. you have to bite back a smile.
"you want something?" you murmur against his lips, and once again, peter gives no verbal response. he only bucks his hips again, grinding his erection against your hand. his body makes it clear what he wants exactly, but he's too flustered to say it out loud.
so you take your hand back, instead placing a gentle slap on his cheek. the impact leaves a print, barely there, but noticeable enough. it was meant to chastise him for not answering, but instead, his hands shoot out to grind your hips against him as his head snaps to the side with a loud groan.
god. you didn't even smack him that hard.
"wow," you grin, and you really want to add more, to tease him, poke a little fun at him, but the words die in your throat when he finally talks.
"do— do it again," he pants, finally connected his eyes with yours. "please."
"oh, so now you can speak?"
instead of doing as he asked, your hands make quick work of unbuttoning his pants, and peter's eyes widen in anticipation. because you're really here, in his lap, indulging all his fantasies and about to touch his cock.
however, you don't. when you've shoved his boxers down just far enough to free him to the slightly cold air of your living room, you sit back on his thighs.
"talk to me, peter."
he closes his eyes briefly, trying to compose himself. "touch me," he pleads softly, locking his eyes with yours again.
"touch you where?" you push, dissatisfied. you want to hear him say it.
a flush creeps up his neck, but he manages to croak out, "touch my— my c-cock, please."
you can't hold back your grin. "yeah, parker? you want me to make you come?"
and when he doesn't answer, only squeezes his eyes shut tightly, your hand strikes him once again.
"yes!" he yelps, even though he doesn't really feel it that much anyway, with his enhanced DNA and high tolerance for pain. but it's the thought that gets him going. "want you to make me come," he groans, hands kneading your thighs like they're his own personal stressballs.
"alright, then," you smile sweetly, and then you're stroking his cock, fast and mean, giving him no time to ease into it. peter's hips immediately thrust up, fucking your fist in sync with the movement of your hand. his breathing is shallow, and his hands are shaking slightly where they're holding you. he bites his lip softly, trying to muffle any more pathetic sounds, but you'll have none of it.
your other hand wanders, and he feels it skimming down his body but is too out of it to anticipate what you're gonna do. only when he feels a sharp twinge of pain shoot up his side, the sensation traveling all the way to the back of his head, beautifully numbing, does he register that you're pressing on his wound again.
he releases his lip, a broken sob clawing its way up his throat and into the open air between your mouths. he looks devastatingly gorgeous like this; eyes red and rimming with tears, hips bucking up uncontrollably as his cock twitches, hands switching between gripping your thighs, your waist, the couch.
before he knows it, the coil in his stomach is building, and he's teetering on the edge already. he leans forward, wanting to kiss you again, and you can't find it in yourself to deny him. your lips connect, moulding together as you moan into his mouth. and peter's gasping, continuously. short, whiny breaths that get punched out of him with every stroke of your hand.
"please," he mewls, breaking apart just enough to get the word out. "can i— please, can i come? wanna, ah, wanna come, please, ple—"
he interrupts himself with a helpless whimper, because you've just dug your fingers into the wound again. his cock twitches harshly in your hand.
"come for me, peter," you murmur softly, "be a good boy."
and that's what does it for him, a drawn-out cry escaping him at the praise. the coil in his stomach snaps, and he paints your hand and his shirt with his cum.
when he's coming down, he notices that his wound is almost completely healed—superpowers, and all that. but the tingling sensation of your bruising hands stays with him for much longer.
❥CW: smut, p in v, sub peter, inappropriate use of web shooters, riding, 826 words
❥Summary: You find one of peter's sensitive spots while riding him (his wristussy)
❥a/n: This fanart inspired this fic 🤭This was written with Tobey's spiderman in mind cuz of the natural web shooters but it can be read as any of them as long as u keep the web shooters in mind!! Hope u enjoy this mini fic i wrote <3 pics are from pinterest
Peter's breath came in ragged gasps as you rocked your hips over him, your hands pinning his wrists above his head. Every movement drew a shaky groan from his throat, his body trembling beneath you, trying to keep some semblance of control. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, every inch of him hot and pulsing, hitting just the right spot as you moved, your pace deliberate and slow.
The room was thick with the sound of your bodies coming together-soft gasps, broken moans, the wet sounds of your slickness as you took him deeper. Peter's eyes were squeezed shut, brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to hold himself together.
But as your fingers lightly grazed his wrists, brushing over the spot where his web-shooters lay, his reaction was instantaneous. His body jolted hard, hips bucking up into you as his eyes snapped open wide, pupils blown with shock. His breath hitched sharply.
"W-what?" His voice cracked, laced with confusion, and the look on his face was almost desperate. He had no idea what just happened, and his bewilderment only made the heat in your core flare higher.
A slow, teasing grin spread across your face as you stilled your hips, locking your gaze on his. You pressed your thumbs harder into his wrists, feeling something tense beneath his skin. His reaction was even more intense this time-a loud, choked moan ripped from his throat, his hips jerking uncontrollably beneath you.
"Oh," you murmured, your voice dripping with mischief. "What's this?"
Peter's eyes were wide, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. "I-l don't know," he gasped, his voice tinged with panic. His head fell back against the pillow, chest heaving as his body trembled under your touch. "What are you-"
You chuckled softly, rubbing your thumbs over the same spot again, watching his entire body shudder beneath you. The confusion on his face only deepened, and you couldn't help but enjoy his unravelling. His hips moved of their own accord, desperate for more friction.
"You're so sensitive here," you whispered, grinding your hips down on him again. He was throbbing inside you, and you could feel how close he was.
His cock twitched with every brush of your fingers over his wrist, his moans growing louder, needier.
"F-fuck," he whimpered, his hands clenching into fists where you had them pinned above his head. "I'm gonna-"
You pressed your thumbs down again, rubbing in tight circles as you moved your hips harder, faster. "Do it," you breathed, leaning down to kiss his neck, your voice low and commanding. "Let go."
With a strangled cry, Peter's entire body went rigid beneath you as he came, his hips jerking wildly as he filled you. But just as the wave of pleasure crashed over him, his wrists spasmed, and-without warning-thick webs shot from his wrists, splattering the headboard and the wall behind him.
"What the—?" Peter gasped, eyes flying open in complete shock, staring at the sticky mess with wide eyes. His chest heaved, his mind clearly scrambling to process what had just happened. "Did I-did I just-?"
You stared at the webs hanging from the headboard, equally surprised, before a slow grin spread across your face. "Oh my God," you said, laughing breathlessly. "Did you mean to do that?”
Peter's face flushed a deep red, a mixture of confusion and embarrassment washing over him as he glanced at the webs, then back at you.
"What– no! I didn't–I didn't know that would happen!" he stammered, his voice hoarse, still catching his breath.
You couldn't help but laugh softly, leaning down to press your lips against his. "That was... something else," you murmured against his lips, still teasing.
"Didn't know you had that in you."
Peter was still wide-eyed, his body trembling with the aftershocks, clearly struggling to comprehend the sudden, overwhelming pleasure that had made him lose control like that. "I–I didn't either," he mumbled, looking like he didn't know whether to be embarrassed or turned on.
You raised an eyebrow, running your hands over his wrists again, a devious smile curling at your lips. "I kinda want to try that again."
Peter's eyes widened, and his breath hitched, a mix of panic and excitement crossing his face. "Wait—now?"
You grinned down at him, leaning closer so your lips were just inches from his. "You're telling me you don't want to see if it happens again?"
Peter swallowed hard, looking dazed and overwhelmed as your fingers trailed back to his wrists, teasing that sensitive spot that had triggered his web-shooting. His lips parted, his body already responding, his cock twitching inside you.
"Fuck," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I-yeah, okay, but-"
You take his wrist in your hand, bringing it up to your mouth to press light kisses to his sensitive spot, cutting off his rambling as you rolled your hips again, feeling him harden inside you. "Shh. Just take it like a good boy, Pete.”
can iI get some trans male Peter parker x male reader or some a/b/o Peter x reader fics please and thanks you❤️❤️
Author's Note: I couldn't decide which one I liked more, or whether I should combine these ideas, so I wrote two shorter fics; one with trans Peter and the other with good ol' ABO 👍
Warnings: male reader, dom top reader, trans Peter Parker, sloppy sex, anal, fingering (first fic). ABO, anal, doggy style, blowjob, biting, reader is called sir (once in the first fic, more in the second fic)
Red star divider created by @/pixopix
Sloppy Couch Sex 🏳️⚧️
“Th-that's–!! gnngh… aah! Hnngh?!”
With a simple press of your fingers, all the words formulating on Peter's tongue jumble and twist, leaving gargled nonsense in their wake. Can you really blame him though?
He'd already been here an hour, gently persuaded into bouncing on your cock, even as his leg muscles cried out in agony. Meanwhile, his adoring partner has painted his neck with purple, throbbing bruises.
“Keep going for me, my love? I just adore how beautiful you are when you cum.”
“That's it, don't hold back~ Scream as loud as you can, I'm here for you.”
“Oh? You came again? Baby, I thought you said you couldn't anymore? Always full of surprises, aren't you?”
“Good boy, keep chasing that feeling, baby~”
Those honeyed words; almost too sweet to digest — they hang in the air, sticky, heavy with sweat and hot breaths that force their way out of Peter's lungs. Between the gentle praise, possessive grip around his waist, and the drag of your cock against his insides, it's too much for one man to handle!
And then you do the unexpected — abruptly pulling out just to turn Peter around and refill his abused hole. He can't fathom why you wanted to make him face away from you, not until the sensation of fingers stroking his tcock hits him.
“Wh-whoa!! That's– that's my– mmhhmgh~”
“Oh? You like that, don't you, cutie?”
Peter bucks into your touch, moaning “y-yes sir” against the back of his hand, squirming as you tease the head of his cock, still wrecking his pretty ass alongside your teasing. Every motion of you jerking him off sends another spike of pleasure straight to his core, causing him to melt further into your embrace.
Stroking turns into a finger accidentally slipping into him, earning a downright sinful moan from your lover. You give him exactly what his body wants, fingering his needy cunt while he grinds his dick against the heel of your palm.
The grip his holes have on you gets to you, and you greedily piston your hips, slapping the fat of his ass and groaning in his ear to “fuck that dick, baby. It's all yours~”
Peter thrashes around clumsily, and you swear you hear a growl as his holes clamp down on your cock and fingers, squirting all over your living room floor as the world around him blurs. The aftershocks hit, branding both of you as trembling messes, too lost in your orgasms to think of anything except the cum dripping down your thighs and grasping at each other's bodies for stability.
Your cock throbs, pumping the last few dribbles of cum into your lover's body. His soft whines and panting tell you that he's on the edge of overstimulation, so you try to be nice and stay still for his sake, not wanting to completely break him… yet.
“You felt amazing…” you breathe against his neck, nuzzling him like a cat does its owner. A sleepy hum is all he can muster, leaning back into a loving hug, with zero intentions of leaving any time soon.
An Omega's Reward
He's always so good. Not in an unconditionally obedient way; he won't push himself into positions where he isn't comfortable. Peter honestly leans towards a service submissive role where his focus is on you and what he can do to make you feel good, without pushing too many of his needs onto you.
Omega househusbands aren't uncommon, though you certainly don't expect your own partner to play the part of your personal maid, yet Peter finds ways to help your lives go that much smoother. And when you get into the bedroom? His body may cry out for every ounce of attention and affection, but the words never leave his lips.
It's precisely because of that selflessness that you yearn to give him more. An opportunity to speak his mind and have everything that he craves, knowing that his husband wants to satisfy those whims.
—
It all starts with you taking a day off from work. You cook breakfast together, help Peter with the cleanup, take a little time to sit him down and explain your reasoning — you want to make love to him, and you want him to let loose, voice every last thought that pops into his head so that you can pleasure him from head to toe.
A dark blush quickly saturates your lover's skin, spreading to his chest even though you've only spoken a few sentences of your idea. It's not unwelcome, Peter's just… he's a bit shy. This feels sudden to him, though he can't say that the idea isn't affecting his body already, making him squeeze his thighs together to conceal the arousal.
But of course, you can't hide anything from your alpha, and Peter's scent is already wafting through the air, prompting your own display of arousal to pop up.
His eyes are immediately glued to your bulge, lips unknowingly parted in hunger.
“Peter–” his attention snaps to your face.
“tell me what you want and it's all yours.”
That spark in his eyes shines brilliantly, preceding your darling's humble request: “I– I want to suck on it, sir! …please?”
The moment you permit him, Peter jumps on you with a hunger you've never seen before, tripping in his excitement to get between your legs. He makes short work of your belt before nuzzling your bulge, planting kisses and huffing your musk like a man deprived of oxygen.
Sliding your pants down, he continues his soft assault of wet kisses, sucking on the tip through the fabric until it's soaked and he's gasping, smiling warmly when he feels you petting him. Your heart-to-heart sparked an ember that had been tucked away all this time — the next several minutes go by in a blur of hungry lips all around your cock, hands stroking and rubbing your thighs, the surrounding warmth of his mouth and the torturous sounds it makes slurping your cock.
But, before you can reach that delicious peak, Peter's mumbled voice breaks your haze–
“…can I, sir?”
“Huh– m'sorry, babe… was a bit out of it.” you slur, combing loose strands of hair away from your eyes. The room spins even as you make eye contact with him.
“Please lemme touch myself, sir–” his mouth is still chasing your length. Soft, wet lips stimulating you throughout his whined question.
You give him permission — because of course you would, but after he yanked his own clothes off and returned to sucking your tip, his hand isn't reaching for his hard-on… Peter's fingers eagerly prod into his slick-filled hole, causing him to moan around your dick with each long stroke.
In no time at all, your cock is ready to burst, swollen and sensitive after being tortured by your lover's wet mouth for so long. And Peter can tell, giggling to himself as he lets your cock slip out, but not before tapping it on his tongue just to watch your entire body tense up trying to fight back an orgasm.
He strokes it a few more times, proudly announcing that he's ready for you. Biting his lip, spreading his legs in a way that makes you dizzy as the scent punches you in the nose; slick covered thighs and fingers, his unique omega pheromones driving you fucking crazy, and a hint of cologne in the mix.
With a worrying haste, you position yourself just behind Peter — now on all fours and drooling at the simplest thought of your length filling him.
It's everything he hopes for: your thick cock marking its territory, the telltale groans of your satisfaction, alpha musk rubbing off on him with every touch– but, it's still not enough.
Through his excitement, your beloved manages to push his body back, further impaling himself on your dick. He whimpers: “Gimme more– please touch me more–!” and you oblige, gliding your hands from his hips to his waist, letting your touch fall upon the expanse of his chest and indulge in his sensitivity. Peter's hips buck when you graze over his nipples, wet cock bouncing wildly to the beat of your thrusts — he looks utterly adorable like this, you muse.
Yet, it's still not enough. Though it certainly feels heavenly to have this much attention, a needy little omega like yours wants it all. Those gentle kisses on his neck won't cut it tonight.
“Aah! B-bite me– n-need you to mark me, sir… nnghn-!!” Peter grits his teeth hard, his mind going blank after a particularly harsh thrust. Repeating his plea with frenzied impatience.
“Mm, like this?”
The instant your teeth dig in, Peter's entire body seizes up, trembling violently as pearly cum dribbles down his cock. You hold onto him tighter, groaning right beside his ear, sucking on the sore indent that you left behind.
Now it's your turn to feel your heart flutter — thanks to Peter's sweet whimpers as you continue to fuck him, bordering on overstimulation. And the progressive touchiness as you near your tipping point only urges him to moan louder~
He begs so sweetly for you to fill him, and just as you promised, you give him whatever he asks for. His walls tighten around your length, sucking in every drop. Only the steady pulsing of your heartbeat penetrates your hazy mind, until Peter's sigh of content brings you back to the present, that is.
Slowly pulling him onto your lap, you sit back and rest. You're not sure how much time passes while you talk, you simply enjoy the moment as it comes, feeling a sense of pride at the fact that you made your husband extra happy and opened the door for more indulgent romps in the future.
Summary: Peter has never been able to last enough to take care of you, but as it turns out... practice does make perfect.
Warnings: talk about premature ejaculation, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, sub!peter and lots of pet names for spidey.
he was always so desperate around you. He was always shy about it, but every time you gave him permission his hands never left your body.
He was so fucking in love with you it was actually a little bit scary.
Nobody had ever made him feel the way you did, and not just sex-wise (although goddamn wasn't that the best thing ever), no, but feelings-wise- like he could breathe more easily around you, like he felt light and soft and the word was perfect whenever you were near.
And everything really was perfect... except one little thing.
he couldn't last.
You weren't making it a big deal, being that you were also teaching him every other way he could make you come, but still, he wanted to do it... he so desperately wanted to feel your walls squeeze him as you came that he was willing to do anything... but it was just so hard.
Andit never got easier...
"c'mon baby" you purred, taking his face in your hands "You can do it, think of something else," you said, out of breath as you bounced on his cock "Anything else baby, I'm almost there"
His eyes were shut close.
He'd found that he didn't even stand a chance at lasting more than 2 minutes if he was watching you.
And he tried, he really tried to get his mind to make something up, to will it to find something else to focus on, but-
"you feel so good y/n- I-I can't"
"yes you can" you shut him up with a messy kiss "You wanna be my good boy, baby?" you ask, eliciting a whimper from his throat
"y-yes" he choked out, not sure how he still hadn't burst
"Yeah?" you breathed "Then you're gonna have to be good and wait a little more" you moaned, his dick hitting a particularly good spot "Can you do that for me, baby? can you wait a little more?"
"mh-mh" he hummed, sounding on the verge of tears
"good boy" you moaned, your nails scratching his chest, as he stretched you so incredibly well "fuck-you feel so good" you cried, your voice drowning out the sound of your skin slapping with his "s-so big baby" you moaned again "s-so f-fucking-"
And then, just like that, it happened- the most extraordinary thing he'd ever felt.
You came, you came on his cock- you came because of him (although, let's be honest, you did all the work), and it felt-
he didn't even have words for it, he only groaned louder than he had ever done, and finally (and inevitably) reached his own release as your walls squeezed his dick and your moans filled the air.
He was grinning like an idiot the moment you opened your eyes back up, and you couldn't help but laugh "You liked it?"
"yes" he nodded, still smiling wide "yes very much"
"mhh" you hummed, bashing in your post-orgasmic bliss as you leaned down to kiss him "I told you you could do it honey"
Bottom!FTM Peter Parker x Top!Villain CEO!Masc Reader
🕸️ Word Count: 1,226 🕸️
AFAB Language Used | this *might* become a multi-chapter fic but this part won't be canon, i changed my mind after i started the second chapter and this wouldn't fit 😭 so just treat it as a oneshot
Peter looks up at you with blurry vision, his body bruised and bloody. He can barely move.
You rip off his mask. “Aren't you the one who works for Jameson? I always knew your pictures were too good.” You chuckle. “You are cute though.”
He's fading in and out of consciousness, he can barely comprehend your words.
“I’ll be taking you home with me.”
Peter slowly opens his eyes, still feeling dizzy and weak. He looks down and fear instantly hits him. He's completely naked and tied up. He looks around the room for anything to help him while trying to break his restraints with brute force.
The noise draws you inside.
“Yo- you-” He recognizes you. The CEO of a company that rivals Stark Industries and Oscorp.
“I have a plan for you, Parker.” You walk over to him. “I’ll let you live and I won't tell a soul about your identity. In return, you'll help me take down Stark Industries.”
“Kidnapping someone isn't really a great way to propose a partnership, you know.” He manages to keep up his persona, trying to calculate how he can get out of this.
“Well, appealing to you isn't a part of my plan. How you feel about this doesn't matter to me. You won't have a choice once my subordinate gets his hands on you.”
“Wh- what are you gonna do to me?”
You slowly untie him. “Just a little memory altering. I’d love to train you but there's not enough time…it’s too bad.” You brush his hair to the side. He tries to hit you but it's too difficult, he only grazes your cheek. You laugh at his attempt and grab his wrists. “Don't worry, I won't hurt you after today. You’ll be spoiled rotten. My special little spider.”
“No– no! Don't touch me!” He squirms around in your hold.
“I should've known a single dose wouldn't be effective enough.” You let go of him and turn to the supply cart next to him. He tries to shoot a web to stop you from whatever you’re trying to do, but only a weak spurt leaves his wrist. He then attempts to get on the ground and crawl. You ignore him and prepare his next injection. He feels humiliated as he continues to crawl towards the door. The fact that you're not even looking at him tells him that he doesn't have a chance. But he tries anyway.
He only ends up a couple inches away from where he started when you ‘catch’ him and turn him around. You use one hand to pin his arms above his head and use the other to inject a serum meant to sedate and arouse him. “Don't worry, Peter, you won't remember any of this. If that makes you feel better. I just wanna have some fun with you first.” You toss the empty syringe.
“Get- get away from me–” He tries everything he can to hurt you but his remaining strength is starting to dwindle as the serum runs through his body. You pry his legs apart and stick your head in between. You drag your tongue up his folds then lovingly suck on his dick. You bring your hands to his chest and circle his sensitive nipples. He subconsciously raises his hips and whimpers.
“No- no- no-” He shakes his head, crying. He doesn't want to lose his virginity like this, not here, not to you. “Uhn~” His toes curl. His spidey senses are going off, making it even harder to think. The drug is making the spider parts of him go haywire, it's not working properly. It's aggressively ringing all the alarm bells inside him. His webs weakly shoot out of his wrists like a deflating balloon. His head is pounding. His brain is yelling at him.
Defend yourself. Hurt them. Kill them. Call for help. Run. Give in. Give in.
Give in.
It feels so good. It feels so good.
I wanna come. I wanna come.
His hands stick to the ground, his legs spread further apart, his mouth hangs open to sing noisy, wordless praises to compliment your skill.
“Stop!” He cries out.
Don't stop. Don't stop!
Yes!
Peter gasps, his hips jerking upwards as he squirts on your face. His head presses against the floor. His body trembles. Then he calms down.
He raises his head and looks at you as you pull away from him. His eyes follow your hands as they unzip your pants. As they free your hard dick. As they direct it onto his wet pussy. Then he focuses on your cock. Your length. Your girth.
I want it.
“No-” His voice trembles. “Don't- don't put that- inside me!”
Shove it inside me. I need it. Fill me. Mold my body to fit you. Ruin me.
The head of your cock slowly breaches him. Peter’s webs shoot out like a can of silly string on its last legs. Weak little spurts continue to leave him. Both from his wrist and from his cunt. He feels weaker every time.
It hurts. It’s too big. It hurts.
“It's interesting to see how your body reacts to the drug.” You wipe the tears from his eyes. “It's too bad I won't be using it again…Although I am interested in what’ll happen once my subordinate alters your memories…maybe I’ll tell them to make you an obedient slut for me.”
Own me.
“Ple- please-” He gasps. He's not entirely sure what he's begging for. His brain is sending conflicting messages.
You lean into his ear. “Admit it, Spidey, you love how big I am and how well I fill your tight fucking pussy.”
I love it.
“I hate– ugh-” He hisses.
I'm so full.
“I’ll kill you..” He clenches his fists.
“Oh, but I thought Spider-Man didn't kill?”
“..ma- make an exception-” He loses his ability to grip, his fists come undone as you bottom out.
“Really? I’m honored, sweetheart.” You slowly pull out, stopping before you fully leave him. “You're bleeding. Guess I was too rough.” You lick your lips at the red coating on your cock.
“You're disg—uh~!” You suddenly thrust inside him and knock the wind out of him, a longer string of web leaving his body. His whimpering and gasping quickly turns into whines and moans as you fuck him. His eyes roll to the back of his head. The bandage and wound on his cheek loosens and opens up, causing blood to run down his face. His brain starts to feel like scrambled eggs.
“Doesn't it feel good, baby?”
He responds with a jumbled mess of words that are impossible to decipher. You already took a bunch of pictures of him earlier but you find yourself wishing you still had that camera with you. In this state, he's more beautiful than any of the artwork in the Metropolitan. You grab his sides, triggering the pain in his sore, bruised body. He makes a loud and erotic noise in response.
He writhes around, sobbing and trying to squirm out of your hold. He manages to say “Please–!”.
“Since you asked so nicely.” Your thrusts stop as you come inside him. You let go of him and brush the hair out of his face, then wipe his blood.
His body twitches, like a spider that's been stepped on.
Peter was always a good study-buddy, and who else would have helped you study sex ed but him?
In reality it started so innocent: a simple tutoring after school.. That was a few months ago. Now a days it's much more interesting.
When you arrived at Peters apartment after school with a book bag he just assumed it was the usual books. Not today.
Peters face was pressed into the pillow with his ass in the air, it was a pathetic sight, only made worse by the strap on sliding in and out of his tight little ass.
He moaned out in pleasure only for you to push his head harder against the soft sheets.
"Oh, enjoying yourself, pretty boy?"
He let's out a whimper and tried to nod, his head spinning with pain and pleasure.
"Y-yes, ma'am" he said in a strained voice, trying to keep as quiet as possible.
"Shh shh. Be a good boy and keep quiet. Wouldn't want aunt May to see her perfect boy like this" you say as you thrust as deep as possible, giving his cock a hard squeeze with your free hand. "Would we now?" You ask in a sickeningly sweet voice.
"No, m-ma'am.."
"Good boy"
You say with a smirk and quicken your thrust, you don't even care if you cum, just seeing him bent over like a bitch in heat is good enough.
"Do you want to cum?" You ask, gently biting his earlobe. "Y-yes!" He pants out "p-please, ma'am? C-can I!" He asks between your rough thrusts.
How could you possibly say no to him while he's being so polite?
With your command his hand instantly travels down to his cock, stroking himself off as quickly as possible.
It really is a pathetic sight, one that you love.
You continue your rough pace, leaving him a whining mess under you. You roll your eyes at his lack of control and wrap your arms around his neck, putting him into a headlock as you fuck him. "Stay. Quiet." You say firmly.
His breath hitches but he nods. Such a good boy. So obedient.
"I-I'm cum-" he doesn't even have time to finish his sentence before he comes all over his hand and bedsheets, letting out a string of strangled curses and moans.
Your thrusts slowly come to a halt as he comes down from his high.
"You did so good.. But" you slowly intertwine his fingers in his curly hair.
