nyx

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.

peter bucked like you’d electrocuted him.

“wait-” his breath caught. “jesus. i-it’s okay- i’m okay… please don’t pull away.”

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.”

𓂅 SENSITIVE ⋮ (NSFW)

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.

"only if you ask nicely"

©𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐈

MDNI Peter Parker BND x reader!

- inspired by that one fanart

- 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.”

His eyes shoot open.

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smth completely random I thought to do 😭 reader as a stark just a small smau

the isopod trend ʚïɞ text message au

thank you angel for your ask ♡

isopod is happy to do as the cooties desire ^-^ ask and you shall receive my loves!! this is my first time posting / making texts specifically so let me know if you all like them and want more!! (n excuse any weird typos or user error things i'm a boomer still with the thing i use for it but i WILL get better) i have no idea how to tag them so i'll make something up lol

content: those fake iphone message threads, reader is doing the isopod trend on their partner, pet names are used, no reference to reader gender/name, reader likes iced coffee, very fluffy ✧˖°

pairings: character changes every two images! frank castle x reader, carmen berzatto x reader, peter parker x reader, andrew cody x reader, clark kent x reader, bruce wayne x reader, richard grayson x reader

yes i mishmashed a bunch of different fandoms / characters together because that's how i like it and think more people should do it too

ok enjoy !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love reading your comments and reblog thought i love u bye 

taglist: @midnightsunkissd @somewhereyoucantfindmealone

“Soooo.. do you cum webs?”

Michael chokes on his water, patting his chest as he tries to clear his throat. But— the question didn’t throw him off.. it was the genuine curiosity in your voice.

“I’m sorry— pardon?” Michael says, leaning more to your side as you two sit on the couch.

“Do you cum webs?” You say, turning to him, eyebrows knitted together like your in a deep concentration.

“Wh— Why are you asking me this, babe? I—,”

“Because you organically make your own webs.” You grab his wrist, gliding your thumb up to where the webs would come out.

“Hnghh— shit, don’t do that..” You watch as he throws his head back, his body twitching.

You did not know he could do that.

“Huh.. oh-kay— but still, can you or can you not shoot webs out of your dick??” You say, turning to face him. You watch as he opens one half-lidded eye at you before pouting.

“Well— I’ve never.. Y’know tried it.” He says, sitting up. Michael puts his arms on his knees as he leans forward, clearly flustered by your claim. “.. wanna try it out?”

sometimes peter needs a break from the superhero life. sometimes he needs his, mommy. (18+) ￫ inspo: here (@filmjules) ♡

peter slumped against the door frame of the small, dimly lit apartment, the mask that concealed his identity now peeled off and discarded carelessly on the floor. his suit, was half-zipped down his chest, revealing the sweat-slicked skin beneath. the city’s noise still buzzed in his veins, a series of sirens, the rush of web-slinging, and that endless adrenaline that came with being a hero. but the second he saw you waiting on the bed, legs spread in nothing but black lace, everything else faded.

you aimed a finger at him, your voice an inviting purr. “come here, baby. mommy’s got you.”