nyx • multifandom • always open • black american • she/her they/them • love my moots! • twenty
you can find my masterlist here <3
some of my favorite media to write about is the DCU/DCC and my current hyperfixation is Michael Jackson!!!
in terms of requests i do write smut! any characters of which are of age/aged up - at the moment i do mainly write gender nuetral and fem readers, but i ask for clarification of pronouns in your requests!
other fandoms that i partake in reading/writing about are (but not limited to) :
Avatar: The Last Airbender(all main cast!)
Big Hero 6 (only hiro!)
Spiderman- Across the spider-verse (mainly 1610!miles and 41!miles)
Haikyuu!! (mainly the karasuno mc's plus kenma and a few others from other schools)
Jujitsu Kaisen (mainly gojo, itadori, and megumi!)
My Hero Academia (class 1-A plus aizawa)
The Umbrella Academy (mainly five hargreeves)
Shameless (mainly lip and carl)
Fantastic Four: First Steps (only johnny at the moment)
Stranger Things (mike, lucas, dustin, robin, eddie, steve, and steddie x readers)
The Bear (mainly carmy)
don’t be a stranger! If you like my writing don’t hesitate to like and reblog it keeps me motivated!
And if you don’t like it tell me that too! I take constructive criticism highly
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synopsis ⠀:: ⠀ when you hug their face in your boobs.
including ⠀! ⠀ dick grayson. jason todd. tim drake. damian wayne. ✶
contents ⠀! ⠀ fem reader. nsfw. obsessive characters. the boys being phatethic and in love. masterlist. english is not my first language. ✶
DICK GRAYSON
he's so fucking touch starved it's not even funny. like yeah he's dick grayson, everybody loves him, he's got that charming smile, but when's the last time someone just held him? really held him? not because he was bleeding out or because the world was ending but just because he needed it.
so when you're sitting on the couch and he comes home from patrol, still wired, jaw tight, that little crease between his eyebrows that he gets when he's been thinking too hard—
you don't say anything. you just reach up, grab the back of his neck, and pull his face right into your chest.
he makes this sound. this broken little exhale. like all the air just left his body at once.
his hands come up immediately, gripping your waist, and he just melts. face pressed into the soft swell of your cleavage, nose buried in your sternum, and you feel his whole body go slack against you. his shoulders drop. his breathing slows. his fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt.
"fuck," he mumbles, voice muffled against your skin. "needed this."
you're wearing one of those low cut tops and he's not even being sexual about it at first. he's just breathing you in. his lips are parted against the curve of your breast, warm breath fanning over your skin, and his eyes are closed.
you run your fingers through his hair, scratch his scalp the way he likes, and he groans. deep and rumbling, vibrating right through your skin.
"hard day?" you ask.
he doesn't answer. just nuzzles closer, turns his head, and presses his mouth right over your nipple through the thin fabric.
oh...
his tongue flicks out, wetting the material, and you feel his hips twitch against your thigh. he's getting hard. just from this. just from being close to you like this.
so cute.
"let me," he whispers, already pulling your top down, and then his mouth is on bare skin and he's gone.
he doesn't rush. he's so earnest about it. worshipping your tits is a privilege he's been granted. he licks and sucks and moans against your skin, leaving wet patches everywhere, pulling your nipple into his mouth and rolling his tongue over it until it's hard and aching.
"pretty," he breathes against you. "so fuckin' pretty. taste so good."
he switches to the other breast, gives it the same attention, and his hips are rolling against your thigh now, grinding slow and desperate. he's not even trying to get off. he's just feeling the moment.
when he finally pulls back, his lips are swollen, his hair's a mess, and there's drool on his chin.
"better?" you ask, smiling.
he laughs, a little breathless. "yeah. sorry. got carried away."
you pull him back in.
he doesn't complain.
JASON TODD
it's his favorite thing.
not that he'd ever say that out loud.
but you know. you know because when he comes home with blood on his knuckles and red in his eyes, he walks straight to you, drops to his knees, and presses his face into your stomach. wraps his arms around your waist and just breathes.
you're standing in the kitchen, making tea, and he's there with his face buried in your shirt.
"jason," you whisper, carding your fingers through his hair.
he growls like a dog.
yeah. he don't want you to say anything romantic rn.
but then you sit down, pull him up, and pull his head to your chest. and he fall into you, all the fight just drained out of him. his whole weight pressing you into the couch cushions, his face smushed between your tits, his arms locked around your ribcage like he's afraid you'll disappear.
"you're okay," you murmur. "you're home."
he doesn't say anything. just turns his head and bites down on the soft flesh of your breast through your shirt. not hard enough to hurt. just enough to feel. to remind himself you're real.
"jason."
"shut up." his voice is rough. "let me have this."
so you do. you let him mouth at your tits through the fabric until your shirt is soaked and clinging to your skin. you let him pull it down and latch onto your nipple like a starving man. you let him suck hard enough to make you gasp, his stubble scraping against your sensitive skin, his big hands squeezing and kneading your breasts.
"so fuckin' soft," he groans against you. "could live here."
his tongue is hot and rough, and he's not gentle about it. no he's desperate. sucking and licking and biting, marking you up, leaving bruises on your chest that'll bloom purple by morning.
he's hard. you can feel him pressing against your thigh, thick and throbbing, and he grinds against you.
"jason," you breathe. "let me take care of you."
he pulls back just enough to look at you. pupils wide, lips wet, jaw tight.
"you already are," he says.
then he buries his face back in your chest and doesn't come up for air for a long, long time.
TIM DRAKE
tim hasn't slept in three days. he's staring at his laptop, eyes bloodshot, coffee cup empty for the fourth time, fingers still moving but getting slower.
so you do the only thing that works.
you walk up behind him, slide your arms around his shoulders, and pull his head back against your chest.
he makes a confused little sound.
"what're you—"
"shh."
he resists for maybe half a second. then his eyes flutter closed and he lean against you. his whole body goes limp, head resting heavy between your breasts, and you feel the exhaustion just hit him.
"you're so warm," he mumbles, voice already slurring.
"you need sleep."
"can't. case."
"tim."
"five more minutes."
you roll your eyes and shift so his face is pressed more into the softest part of your chest. his lips parted against the bare skin where your shirt dips low, and his breath is hot and slow.
he's not even doing anything. just breathing you in. but his body is responding anyway. you feel his shoulders tense, then relax. his hands come up and rest on your arms, holding you closer.
"y'know," he says, voice relaxed, "this is really nice."
"yeah?"
"yea..."
he turns his head, presses a kiss to the swell of your breast. then another. then his tongue darts out, just a little, tasting the salt on your skin.
"tim."
"mm?"
"thought you were working."
he pull his head away, looks up at you with his exhausted blue eyes, and there's something soft and a little drunk in his expression.
"changed my mind."
he pulls you around the chair and into his lap, and then his face is buried in your tits and he's groaning like he just found water in a desert. his mouth is everywhere. licking, sucking, kissing, biting. he's so sloppy. he's so cute.
"fuck," he whimpers against your nipple. "fuck, you're so hot."
he's not usually vocal. but he's so sleep deprived and overstimulated that his filter is gone. every thought just falls out of his mouth.
"could do this forever," he mumbles, switching to your other breast. "never leave. stay right here."
he's grinding up into the heat of your core without even realizing he's doing it. his hips move in slow weak circles.
"tim, baby, let me ride you," you whisper.
he shakes his head. "no. not yet. just—let me—"
he buries his face deeper, tongue flattening over your nipple, and groans like it's the best thing he's ever tasted.
"just let me be."
you let him.
DAMIAN WAYNE
damian hates vulnerability.
he is arrogance and precision and makes cutting remarks. he says "i don't need anyone" and "sentiment is weakness" and "tt" when he doesn't have a comeback.
but here's the thing, he's still learning what it means to want something soft.
and you're the softest thing he's ever touched.
the first time you pulled him into your chest, he froze. didn't know what to do with his hands, his face, his body. just stood there stiff as a board while you held him.
now he doesn't ask. but he... there...
you're reading on the couch and he sits down next to you. close. closer than necessary. his thigh presses against yours and he picks at the hem of his sleeve.
he's annoyed about something.
"damian."
"tt."
he won't even look at you.
"come here."
he moves fast. too fast.
so he was waiting for you to say it. alright.
and then he's pressed against you, face shoved into your chest, arms wrapped around your waist, and he's shaking. just a little.
"i had a difficult patrol," he mutters into your skin. like that explains everything.
but that's the closest he can get to saying i need you.
you wrap your arms around him and hold him tighter. his face is pressed right between your breasts, nose against your skin, and you feel his breathing even out. his hands curl into your shirt.
"you don't have to talk about it," you say softly.
"good." he pauses. "i don't want to."
and he doesn't pull away. if anything, he presses closer. and then his lips are moving against the swell of your breast. soft at first. like he's not sure he's allowed.
"damian."
"i'm not—" he cuts himself off, frustrated. "you smell good."
you bite back a smile. "so i've been told."
he huffs. but then his mouth is back on you, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses across your chest. he's not that practiced but he's eager. a little clumsy. he pulls your shirt down and stares at your bare breasts like he's never seen them before, even though he has. even though he's memorized every inch of you.
"you're beautiful," he says, so quiet you almost miss it.
then he latches onto your nipple and sucks, and it's like a dam breaks. his hands are everywhere. squeezing your other breast, gripping your hip, tugging at your clothes. he's making these sounds—soft, surprised little moans.
he's hard. pressing against you, twitching every time you gasp. but he doesn't move. doesn't ask for anything. just keeps his mouth on you. this is the only thing he wants in the world at the moment.
"dami fuck," you breathe, threading your fingers through his hair. "you're so good at this."
he makes a choked sound against your skin. his hips jerk. and when he pulls back, his face is red and his lips are wet and his eyes are wild.
"i am?" he asks, and there it is. the vulnerability. the need for approval he'd never admit to.
"yeah," you whisper. "you are."
he buries his face back in your chest. he doesn't want you to see the smile or the redness on his face.
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Summary: Not everyone can handle the stress of the kitchen. Good thing you don’t have to! It’s much more fun to play all day!!
Word count: 900+
Tags: tooth-rotting fluff, mentions of arguments and Carmy + Syd being salty
a/n: The idea of teacher!reader came from my amazing mutual @0-n-1-x during a very extensive discussion of different sydcarmy ideas
The second you hear the front door open you’re ears perk up like a puppy
“Hi guys!”
Neither of them answers.
“…Hello?”
Carmy walks in first, dropping his keys in the little ceramic bowl by the front door, the one with bear ears that insisted on buying.
Syd comes in behind him, silently taking her jacket off. Neither of them look at each other.
Oh.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.” They both respondat the same time.
“Okay...”
Carmy looks at you.
You look at Syd.
Syd looks at Carmy.
“You guys had a fight?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Carmy looks at Syd.
“You said it wasn’t a fight, earlier.”
“Well maybe I just wanted you to drop it so–”
You hold up both your hand.
“don’t care!”
They both stop and look at you.
You pat the couch “Come here.”
Carmy sighs.
“Peach–”
“Come here.”
He doesn’t have to be told twice. Syd follows a second later.
You make them both sit on either side of you, acting a bit like a buffer in a way.
Carmy drops down beside you, looking absolutely exhausted while Syd curls up on the other side.
You look between them.
“Okay, so... you guys are obviously not talking to each other.”
“We’re talking…” Syd mumbles.
“You haven’t said anything to each other since you walked in.”
“We’re tired.”
“Uh-huh.”
Carmy rubs his face.
You lean against him.
“And you’re all grumpy.”
“I’m not grumpy.”
“You are.”
“I’m tired.”
“That’s what grumpy people say.”
He huffs slightly.
“You’re annoying.”
“You love me.”
“Yeah…” he admits without hesitation
“See?” You smile.
Syd laughs quietly.
Carmy looks over at her “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Anyway.”
You look at both of them.
“I had a really good day today.”
“Yeah?” Carmy hums.
“Mhm.”
You start talking before either of them can interrupt.
“We made little paper plate animals today.”
Syd turns her head.
“Paper plate animals?”
“Yup.”
“What kind?”
“Cats, dogs, fish, all different kinds, and thus one kid glued like seventeen googly eyes on hers.”
“Seventeen?”
“Mhm, I counted!”
“Why?”
“Because I was curious.”
Syd smiles.
“And then she got mad because she ran out of googly eyes.”
Carmy laughs under his breath.
“She used all of them?”
“Apparently.”
You shake your head.
“Then we had snack.”
“What’d you give then?” Syd asks.
“Apple slices and crackers.”
“Honestly that sounds better than what we make, wayyy less complicated.” Syd sighs
“One of my kids tried to trade me his apple slices.”
“For what?” Carmy asks
“A sticker.”
“Did you take it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Maybe because he’s five, carm?” Syd raises her brow
“That’s not a reason.”
“I can’t be teaching my students how to barter!”you laugh
“I didn’t say that.” He frowns
“You literally just said she should have traded with him.”
He shrugs.
You immediately notice the small smile on Syds face.
“You’re smiling.”
“No I’m not.”
She tries to hide it, putting her hand up to “discreetly”cover her mouth
You reach over and grab her face, squishing her cheeks a bit before planting a kiss on her lips.
“There. Now you’re definitely smiling.”
“I’m just happy to see you...”
“I missed you too.”
You can practically feel the puppy dog eyes Carmys giving you even though you can’t see his face so youturn toward him.
“And missed you too.” You say as give him a kiss on his cheek.
Then you immediately go back to your story.
“Anyway, for recess i brought chalk outside with us.”
Syd rests her head against your shoulder.
“What’d you draw?”
“A horse.”
“Was it good?”
“No, the kids told me it looked like a giraffe. Think I made the neck too long.”
Carmy can’t help but smile while he chuckles to himself.
There’s special things about Carmy and Syd that you Charisse. For Carmy it’s when he smiles, but only when it’s the kind that you know is genuine because you can’t hold it back.
You keep talking, telling them about how you debated with a five year old that the reason they couldn’t fly wasn’t because they were too fat.
The kid who keeps eating crayons.
Another kid who asked you if teachers live at school.
And then you remember something.
“Oh! And one of my kids asked me if I have a husband.”
Syd lifts her head.
“What’d you say?”
“I said no.”
Carmy raises an eyebrow.
You look at him.
“What?”
“You said you don’t have a husband.”
“Because I don’t!”
He looks at Syd.
Syd looks at him.
Then she looks at you.
“You could’ve said you have two beautiful chefs who who hang out with.”
You laugh.
“I don’t need a bunch of five year olds knowing my personal life.”
“Well they asked.” Carmy mumbles
“They ask me why we can’t see air.”
“Fair.”
You smile and lean back.
“And then we read a book.”
“What book?”
“The Very Hungry Caterpillar.”
Carmy nods.
“Classic.”
“One of the kids asked me why the caterpillar eats so much.”
“Because he’s hungry, duh?” Syd says.
“I told him that.” You shrug.
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘That’s not a good reason.’”
You keep talking for another few minutes.
Eventually, you realize Carmy’s hand is resting on your thigh. And Syd’s arm is around your waist.
The three of you basically sandwiched together despite all the room there is in the couch.
“Huh...”
“What?” Syd asks.
“You guys are both holding onto me.”
Carmy nods softly.
“Yeah.”
Syd squeezes your waist.
“Problem?”
“Not at all.”You smile.
“Just observing.”
You look between them. They’re both finally relaxed.
No more weird silence, more restaurant fights left simmering in the background.
ix. la corriente | dennis whitaker x fem! latina! reader
— warnings • cursing, y/n mentions, insecure dennis, probs ooc dennis, mentions of making out but that’s all lol
— note • realizes past chapters have been r talking abt dennis to others so i added a lot more whitaker this chapter lol, also i can’t write for guys so my bad if it’s ooc😭
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description: jeff winger can get any girl he wants, and plans to do so when reader asks him for directions. imagine his shock when she not only rejects him, but tells him she’s dating his weirdest friend.
pairing: abed nadir x f!reader
warnings/tags: y/n is used, reader is a nerd, brief depiction of reader’s appearance but nothing too specific, jeff winger (bc i think hes a warning by himself), author’s first time properly writing in years so i hope this turns out alright 😓
requested?: yes! by @0-n-1-x
wc: 1k
-
jeff winger is a ladies man, no doubt about it. it is obvious by his nonchalant charm and good looks that he can have women’s hearts fluttering at the drop of a hat. he can get any girl he wants- at least, that’s what he thought.
the man is leaning lazily against his car one morning, thumbs whirring to text god knows who. all of a sudden, a perfectly manicured hand comes into his line of sight to tap his shoulder. he trails his bored eyes from the finger, up the arm to the face of whoever is interrupting his precious text and- woah.
a beautiful young woman stands in front of him. your hair frames your face in a way that looks effortless yet perfectly curated. your soft yet captivating eyes stare into his, and are illuminated by your long eye lashes that had been styled with mascara. your glossy lips are pulled into a polite smile, and jeff feels his own mouth turn to a smirk.
today is my lucky day, he thinks.
“sorry for interrupting, but do you know where Study Room F is?” you ask, your voice sounding sweet and gentle. jeff subtly sweeps his eyes up and down your figure.
“i do. in fact, i was just about to head there now. how ‘bout i lead the way?” jeff stands up straight, making you look up at him at his full height.
“oh, thank you! that’s very kind.” you smile even brighter. jeff starts to lead you towards the main building.
“yeah, no problem. it’s what i do.” he winks, to which you laugh in response.
-
“so do you go to school here?” you ask as jeff guides you through the halls, the sound of your heels clicking on the floor only adding to your overall alluring self.
“unfortunately, yes. but only for a little while longer- after this i’m going back to my law firm.” jeff brags, hoping to impress you. to his surprise, you don’t seem overly fazed.
“oh, that’s cool. my friend is studying to be a lawyer, too. she says it’s pretty difficult.” you hum, while looking through your handbag. you soon pull out a sleek tube of lip gloss. you uncap it, and swipe the glossy brush over your enticing lips. jeff finds himself staring, before he snaps out of it and remembers to respond.
“yeah, well, uh, it comes pretty naturally to me. so, are you new here? i could give you a tour of the rest of the school. i only charge five bucks per classroom, you’d be crazy not to say yes.” he grins, shining his white teeth at you.
“while that is a steal, i’m actually not a student here. i’m just visiting someone,” you laugh, and jeff swears he had heard an angel sing. “in fact, i’m actually a bit late.”
“oh yeah? i’m sure whoever it is wouldnt mind waiting a little longer, if it’s so that you get to talk to me.” jeff flirts, and you let out what sounds like a mix between a scoff and a laugh. you guys turn the corner, heading into the library.
“well, i’m not so sure about that- i don’t even know your name!”
“it’s jeff. jeff winger. but you could just call me… anytime. can i have your number?” he smiles at you as you come to a stop outside of Study Room F. your expression contorts slightly, showing that you’re feeling awkward.
“oh, uhm, sorry, but i have a boyfr-”
“y/n!”
you and jeff turn your heads to see… abed?
he’s walking towards the two of you with a small smile curving his lips. before jeff can spit out some witty inquiry, you cheer.
“abed! hi, i’m so sorry i’m late! i stopped off in a convenience store to get us drinks, but i ran into sandy, and you know how she is- just can never read the ‘i need to go but i’m trying to be polite’ vibe, and just kept going on and on about her sister and her husband!” in the time it takes for you to explain, you have made your way over to abed and laced your fingers with his. jeff watches, in what feels like slow motion, as you cup abed’s jaw, and plant a gentle kiss on his cheek.
jeff is speechless- and he’s not the only one experiencing such a reaction. annie let out a little gasp, shirley had herself a surprised giggle, britta tried not to look shocked and troy’s jaw nearly hit the ground with how low it dropped.
upon feeling the tense silence and stares upon you, abed and you turn to the group, still holding hands.
“oh. guys, this is my girlfriend, y/n. y/n, this is annie, shirley, troy, britta and you seem to already know jeff.” he says, pointing out each person as he says their name.
“hi everyone. it’s nice to meet you! i’ve heard a lot about you.” you smile, giving a small wave with your free hand.
it takes everyone a moment to snap out of their shocked stupor and respond with greetings of their own. well, some responding with… other things.
“abed! you have a hot girlfriend?! and you never told me?!” gasps troy, acting as if he had been double crossed.
“it never came up.” replied abed, his monotone, casual voice juxtaposing the atmosphere of the room.
“how did you two even meet? you guys seem… pretty different… not that that’s a bad thing!” asked britta.
“we met at a DVD store. we both wanted to rent The Breakfast Club.” you smile at the memory.
“it was the perfect meet-cute.” abed adds, making you giggle as you look up at him with stars in your eyes.
annie and shirley coo at the two of you, mentioning that you both are cute and look very happy. you thank them and abed nods with pride.
jeff, on the other hand, is still shocked. no way this beautiful woman is dating abed! this must be one of abed’s little movie spoofs, or something. but nobody could fake the love you have in your eyes when you look at abed. so how on earth did abed bag you?! jeff needs to know- and he will make sure he does.
-
hi i hope you enjoyed! i’m sorry that this is only pt 1 but i actually need to work on using tumblr more bc idk how to save a draft and like come back to it later without posting it and i’m tired so 😭 i’ll work on pt 2 soon! also yes i got rid of pierce hope that’s ok i just hate that guy snd idrk how to write for him…
peterparker Shout out to @.mjwatson and @.needsleeds for the very awesome mug!
open all comments
flashthompson ofc you can't finish a basic 3x3 rubik's cube loser
mjwatson What crawled up your ass and forced you to comment this?
needsleeds I hope this means you will stop stealing my mugs every morning
peterparker No comment...
mjwatson Hmmmm... A spontaneous post after someone follows you...
peterparker I have ZERO clue what you're on about
needsleeds @.peterparker Super chill and suuppperrr random...
yourname
yournamelovesSPAM
liked by gwenstacy, mjwatson, and others
yournamelovesSPAM dreams do come true and you do get to bump into spider-man and have a conversation and fall a little bit more in love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
open all comments
gwenstacy i would call you delusional, but i will call it manifestation instead
yournamelovesSPAM it IS manifestation
yournamelovesSPAM @.gwenstacy manifesting the day he whips off his mask and kisses me
mjwatson Milo is NEVER getting washed after this is he...
yournamelovesSPAM NOPE! not after he was blessed by spider-man
mjwatson @.yournamelovesSPAM i am going to call Animal Patrol on you
yournamelovesSPAM @.mjwatson NO MILO I LOVE YOU
mjwatson @.yournamelovesSPAM More than Spider-man?
yournamelovesSPAM @.mjwatson no comment
mj's pov:
a/n: if you have any thing specifc you want to see plot wise, send me a message in my inbox!
nsfw content — overstimulation duhh, handjob, blowjob, peter having multiple orgasms, quick orgasms, hypersensitivity, sensory overload, sensory play, peter parker has a headache, he is very sensitive, he’s trying his best okay?
peter’s senses were shot. the whole day had been a nightmare of noise and light and smells. now here he was in bed, trying to breathe and trying to focus on just one thing. but everything seemed to be fighting for his attention. his head pounded like hell. the sheets felt too rough. the room smelled too strong. somewhere outside, a car honked, and peter flinched like it had gone off right beside his head.
“it’s okay, peter. i’ll take care of you.”
you whispered it right into his ear, then kissed his temple. a single finger dragged down the center of his chest, from collarbone to navel. featherlight touch.
your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he saw the question forming before you even spoke. but then a smile plastered on your lips. your finger went further down his abdomen, grazing his hips.
he was already breathing frantically, like you’d already fucked him. his eyes tracked your finger as it grazed his body, watching it like it was the only thing in the world, because right now, to his fried brain, it kind of was.
when the cold air hit his cock, you’d pulled his boxers down and he immediately groaned. a sound that came out more like a cry. his head was still pounding because he could still very much feel everything. and he could definitely feel what you were doing to him. a little bit too much. actually, way too much.
“AH!” he yelped when you wrapped your hand around his cock. his body tensed. goosebumps broke out on his skin. he shut his eyes hard, one hand flying to his forehead, pressing against the ache. his head was killing him and you were killing him. well, metaphorically.
you watched him carefully before you started stroking him. slow. up and down.
he was almost crying. he didn’t know if it was from your touch or from his head splitting. he could hear traffic. feel the air. feel your hand. hear your breathing. his ears were ringing. everything was screaming for his attention, but your touch was the loudest. and he felt like he would-
“oh god, oh god-”
peter was out of breath as a thick burst of hot liquid flooded your hand. his hips stuttered as he came hard all over your fingers. one hand was still clenched into a fist. the other was uselessly and awkwardly raised slightly in the air, as if trying to calm himself down. his body was so tense. biceps flexing. abs flexing. thighs flexing. everything wound so tight that the orgasm had ripped through him like a valve blowing.
“already?” you cooed, smiling. you played with the cum around his tip, spreading it.
peter opened his mouth to speak but his words immediately dissolved at your touch. his hips jerked again. “i- i’m sorry, baby… ’s good- baby, feels too good…” he was sobbing. breathing uneven. hard for him to regulate himself. every thought was fuzzy, fragmented, like trying to grab water.
you moved your hand up and down his cock again.
he gasped. whined. the overstimulation was too much. from your hand, from the air, from the sound of his own heartbeat, from outside, and whatever else was happening to his body. pre-cum dripped down his cock for a moment. he watched you do it, watched your hand slide along him, and the sight alone was almost enough to undo him. not even long minutes passed before he came again. thick and hot, spilling over your fingers.
he felt really stupid and embarrassed cumming that fast. with his senses this overloaded, even the lightest touch felt overwhelming. and you looked entirely too pleased with yourself.
“f-fuck…” he muttered, almost to himself. his head was thrown back and his jaw fell open in a gasp as he felt the air of your hot mouth before you wrapped your lips around the tip. feeling the softness of your tongue as you cleaned the cum off. then you started bobbing your head up and down lightly.
“baby- baby, wait- stop, please- i’m gonna-” his words were barely audible. before he could finish, he came again. it went along with the ringing in his ear. so as he came into your mouth, he was groaning from both his orgasm and from how hard his head hurt. pleasure and pain twisted together. it was almost indistinguishable.
you pulled his cock from your mouth. sucking him clean before giving a gentle kiss to the tip. then you just stared at him, watching him try his hardest to handle whatever was happening to him.
as it stopped, he panted a little too hard. “i’m okay, baby. it’s…” he managed between breaths, feeling your gaze on him. his broad chest rose and fell unevenly. he could feel his own heartbeat in his throat.
you squinted slightly, biting your lip as you studied him. there was something in your eyes he couldn’t name. still holding his hard, leaking cock and giving gentle licks that made his breathing hitch every time.
you rose to your full height and looked down at him. gently, you lifted his chin so he had no choice but to look at you. his hand rested lightly against your hip.
“peter-”
before you could ask what was wrong, he cracked.
“okay, shit. don’t look at me like that.” he squeezed his eyes shut, mortified and still recovering from his orgasms. the next words became a murmur. “i might cum again.”
PETER PARKER is so sensitive, especially when it comes to his organic web shooters.
thinking about running your finger across the vein of his forearm gently, watching the way his breath hitches and he visibly blushes, face a pretty pink all the way to the tips of his ears.
"is that okay?" you ask, voice impossibly soft and caring. your soothing tone only makes his dick twitch in his pants. :(
he hesitantly nods, squeezing his eyes shut at the pad of your thumb running over the barely noticeable flap the webs eject from. "feels-- shit-" he's trying not to get worked up, "feels weird– i-i dunno-" his voice cracks pathetically, leaning into your sweet touch despite himself.
he's not lying either, it's a sensation so strange, like nothing he could've imagined. seeing webs sputter from the slit disgusted him the first time he witnessed it, but it's different with you. how do you manage to make it feel so fucking good?
"s'okay, peter" you purr in that way that has him whining, "let me take care of you, yeah?" you rub slow, calculated circles on the flap, taking notice of the way he bucks his hips up, as if he needs release. "ohgod– s'good-- i- i like it" he chokes out, nodding his head feverishly and squirming impatiently on the mattress.
"oh yeah?" you challenge, curiously deciding to take it further. you start at the midway point of his inner arm, pressing down hard on the vein and dragging your finger up to the flap.
"oh fuck--!" he gasps, the sudden pressure has him humping the air mindlessly, chasing something that's not there. he's trying to be good, to control himself, but how the fuck is he supposed to do that when you're touching him like this?
his dick strains against his sweats as you increase pressure, skin hot under your thumb.
"waitwaitwait!" he cries out as your thumb nears the slit, so close to shooting out that sticky web, his cock so close to shooting out sticky release. "baby– m'sorry, just–" he pants, his heart beating a frantic rhythm, he's right on the edge. your hand pauses completely.
you glance at him, and he looks just gorgeous like this. his eyes are wide and glassy, lips bitten raw, and cheeks wet with a few tears, falling from just how perverted he feels. how is he able to get off from this? is he really that desperate?
"pete." your honey-smooth voice makes him go dumb, makes him nod along to anything you say, lets you do anything you want to him. "just... let me try this, okay?" you lean down to press a reverent kiss to his forehead, making him shudder.
without any warning, you quickly press down and drag your thumb across the vein, forcing a string of webs to shoot across the room.
peter immediately flinches, gasping and rolling his eyes to the back of his head. "oh shit--!" he moans whorishly, his cock shooting out hot release directly after. he didn't think he could cum so quickly, especially in his boxers.
you watch in a daze as he rides out his orgasm, leftover webs bubbling up to the flap and pitifully dripping down his arm.
he glances down at his wrist, gagging at the sight of the white liquid. "god– that's so gross" he groans, arm moving to cover his face in disgust. his chest is still heaving, pink lips slightly parted.
"yeah well–" a giggle bubbles up in your chest, "you're the one who came from me touching it" you point out, moving to kiss his flushed cheek when he groans further in embarrassment.
he peeks out from under his arm, hesitating to speak. "maybe uh– we can do that again? like– not right now, obviously... but y'know–" he stutters, chuckling nervously.
he's such a dork, you think.
you lay down next to him, smiling at his hopeful expression when you nod your head, before speaking.
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- hands free orgasm (technically), overstimulation (technically), dry orgasm (maybe?), slightttt noncon, slightt sadism, sub!Peter, cumming in pants (or suit), Peter cries, a little praise, mean reader
Peter was laying on your bed, his mask removed, but otherwise still completely clad in his Spider-Man suit. He looked up at you with brown eyes pooled with desire, but also filled with weariness. He must have taken in your mischievous expression.
You, clad in an old oversized tshirt of his and a pair of panties, were feeling mischievous tonight. Peter had told you about the changes happening to his body, the way webs would shoot out against his control, and you were eager to see it for yourself.
Peter glanced around the room nervously, his lips turning down to form a pout, as if he could predict your next move. Lucky for you, his spidey senses didn’t seem to be keen enough for that, or you weren’t sure he’d still be laying here willingly. Though the tent in his pants was proof enough he’d let his girlfriend try anything with him.
You leaned in, watching his pretty eyes flutter closed and his lips part, clearly expecting you to kiss him. A kinda evil smirk graces your own mouth. Much to his dismay, at the last second you avoid his face entirely and instead focus your attention on his left arm.
Peter exhales in disappointment. He opens his eyes to glance at you sideways. “D-don’t tease me like that…” his voice is breathy, anticipation beginning to make his body squirm a bit underneath you.
You ignore his whining, carefully moving his arm to extend straight out, 90 degrees from his body. You slowly slide his sleeve down just a bit, as well as riding his glove up a fraction, to expose a few inches of his wrist.
Your intentions click in Peter’s head immediately. He whips his head to the side to look at you, nerves twisting his features. “..w-wait what are d-doing?”
You lightly place your pointer finger over his plush lips to quiet him. “Shh.. I just wanna try something.” You purr sweetly.
“I-I don’t know.. it’s weird and I don’t understand it yet and I d—“ he begins nervously blabbering, but before he can finish you give the lightest swipe over the barely visible slit in his wrist.
His whole body twitches. His breath hitches with a quiet and surprised “fuck!”
You continue caressing his wrist, passing over the slit and down the newly thick vein. With every touch, Peter shivers with concerning force, his face twisted into a hesitant expression of pleasure and disgust.
Mock sympathy crosses your features. “You okay, Spidey?”
“God— I-it feels so weird— w-wait! Wait wait w—“
Peter’s hand spasms as a long, thick spurt of web shoots from his wrist.
“Agh! Shit.” He throws his head back, a mix of a groan and whimper bubbling from his throat. His face scrunches even more as his boner strains against the thin fabric. He turns to you, his eyes watery, assuming you’re done now.
But you don’t stop. Your thumb is right back to swiping over his wrist, his vein now pulsing slightly. Peter’s arm trembles but you hold it still with your other hand.
“Aww it’s okay baby.” You coo at him, now rubbing circles around the small slit. His fingers won’t stop tensing and twitching, just like the nonstop string of pathetic noises coming from him.
“P-please.” He begs. “It’s s-sensitive hah now.”
Though he doesn’t make a move to stop you, only continues to writhe on your bed. So you keep going, pressing hard into his vein all the way up, as if to milk the web out of him. “You’re being such a good boy.” You murmur.
Another spurt shoots out.
This one has more of an effect on him. His whole body shakes, hips jerking up, eyes blown wide as he moans. “Fuck! Okay, okay. We’re done now? I can’t—“
This time, you cut him off with your mouth. Your tongue eagerly runs down his vein and laps at the tiny slit.
A broken sound pierces the air as a third wave of web sprays out of him, much weaker than the first two.
You glance over at him, seeing a few tears run down his cheeks. “It’s too much. It’s too much for me.” His entire body is flushed, shaking, and covered in a sheen layer of sweat.
“Just one more?” You innocently bat your eyelashes, pressing a sweet kiss to his jaw. “You’re doing so good. You can handle it. Your body wouldn’t make it if it wasn’t meant to come out.”
Before he can answer, you’re back to his wrist. Your teeth come out this time, lightly nibbling on his vein. It only takes a few sucks and nips before a fourth wave is coming out. It weakly spurts from him, more oozing than anything. His eyes roll back with a cry.
Your mouth comes down, licking up the little blotches of web that finished trickling out. Even after his wrist is cleaned, though, you don’t pull away.
He violently shudders. “Oh god I t-think I’m gonna— I think I’m gonna—“
His entire body convulses. Hips bucking frantically, head tossing around wildly, loud and pathetic whines and groans filling the bedroom air.
A huge glob of web sprays from his right hand, and you see the now damp spot in his crotch area where he must have cum in his pants…
But nothing came out of his left wrist.
He turns his attention to it the same time you do, a slightly pained expression on his face. “Oh, fuck.”
You look him in the eye with a tilt of your head, grinning. “What’s wrong? Got nothing left in there?”
Your thumb comes down to his wrist again. He jerks, squeezing his eyes shut. “Gah! Hah! Plea.. mm! I ca- ngh!”
You suppress a giggle at his inability to form a coherent thought.
After a few minutes his arm tenses and his hand clenches like it always does before a spray, but nothing comes out.
He groans, and this time it sounds like pain has finally outweighed pleasure. His eyebrows are drawn in and eyes screwed shut. His back is off the bed as he heavily pants.
You slide his glove back on all the way, pushing his hair off his sticky forehead. “What does it feel like?” You murmur.
He opens his eyes to look at you, gaze cloudy and lost. “Like my body wants— n-needs to shoot something out, but there’s nothing for it to.”
You give him a light kiss on his nose bridge. “That must be so hard.” You say, voice sympathetic, but there’s a glint in your eyes at his completely fucked out state, one that you were the complete cause of.
Though he doesn’t see the slightly evil look in your eye, as his eyes are shut again, focusing on his heavy breathing. He simply nods. “I-it is. I can’t stand it. It’s like being denied l-like air o-or—“
Your hand gently cups his cheek, thumb swiping the drying tears under his eyes. “That’s just awful. Especially since I haven’t finished your right arm yet.”
