Bae

| summary: you go to Frank’s door with a pie as an excuse to see him- you have been crushing on him for a while after all? He lets you in and you find out there’s mutual feelings for more than cherry pie.

| authors notes: Been wanting to post an age-gap fic with Frank for a while so… here we are. kinda an au where he isn’t the punisher?

| content: fem reader, smut, p in v, softdom!frank, agegap, comfort, fingering, frank being a fucking tease, praise, pet names, dirty talk 😛, frank taking care of you, experienced!frank x inexperienced!reader, frank lowkey having a moral dilemma

| word count: 8.6k

Everyone knows Frank. If you were to ask, they’d tell you: “that quiet, handsome guy down the street.” But nobody really knows him. He’s the city’s favorite loner, and admired from afar by all of the women- single women, divorced ones, even married wives. They hang on his every manly step like he’s something out of a daydream, watching him in awe. Frank notices, of course. But all they ever get from him is a soft smile and polite nod as he walks away.

So, you don’t know how or why exactly you got to his door, but you know you’re here now, a gentle breeze blowing through your hair on this cozy autumn day, and a fresh warm cherry pie in your hands. You don’t know what you were thinking to be honest, as if he’s going to even spare a glance at you, a younger girl in this city full of experienced women. But try as you might, you couldn’t stop yourself, so you’re here now, skirt blowing in the breeze as you build up the courage to knock on his door.

Summary: It’s the one year anniversary of your death. Since you were caught in the crossfire of Frank’s war on Hell’s Kitchen’s gangs. He couldn’t help but visit your favorite store: a crystal shop in a better part of the neighborhood. What happens when he makes the wish that has been haunting him since your passing…NOT PROOFREAD

Warning: nonconsensual resurrection, angst, angst, like this tore me apart, 18+ MDNI, smut (piv, oral f!receiving), horror themes(?), flashes of death scene, two uses of Y/N (it couldn’t be avoided)

WC: 5.9k

a/n: rewatched Obsession over the weekend…this is what came of it…(sorry in advanced) Also, divider by @mieluno

Spark the middle and break in half...

Frank knew what day it was the moment he awoke. He knew what day it was last night, when he fought sleep until exhaustion finally dragged his conscious into slumber. As if prolonging sleep would extend the hours in the day. Like time wouldn’t keep passing and the one year anniversary of your death—your murder wouldn’t circle around. 

He begrudgingly sat his body upright and dragged a hand across his face, using his other hand to grab the framed photo of you on the nightstand. 

It was the only picture he had of you. Frank because of his loss and the trauma that grew from it, never allowed you to take any pictures of him or of you two together and vice versa. But you looked so beautiful that day. He remembered everything about that moment, you wore a pink floral sundress you knew he had grown a favoritism towards. 

You had convinced him to leave the city for a bit and drive to the closest beach town, making a day trip out of it. He remembered you asking for weeks before he finally relented and agreed. Frank even recalled mumbling under his breath about the ordeal. Now, though, he wished he could go back in time and say yes the first time you asked. 

The tips of his fingers were white from the hard grip he had on the frame. You weren’t looking into the lens of the camera, but at him. Or past him that snapped the picture. The fondness and love in your gaze permanently captured in the photo was one that he now realized he took for granted. 

It was as though that reminder burned him as he slammed the frame down. The grief felt heavier today, it was a given. But he knew you wouldnt want him wasting away, chasing and hunting down the gangs not only responsible for the loss of his family, but for the loss of you. Maybe deep down, Frank believed that if he could continue to chase after these men, he could outrun the ghost of you that haunted him every morning when he woke and every night when he slept. 

So Frank got up and did his usual routine. Put on a shirt and jeans, brushed his teeth and ate breakfast that tasted like ash in his mouth. But he took care of himself, the way you used to. After all, he was the reason you were no longer here to do it. 

—

His body moved before his mind caught up. Before he knew it, Frank walked into the crystal shop—your favorite store in Hell’s Kitchen and the last place you two went on a date. The bell hung above the door chimed, signaling to the employee behind the cashier that someone had entered the store. 

She looked up briefly from her phone, glanced at Frank, before returning her gaze to her screen, muttering a half-hearted welcome. “Welcome to The Green Man Store. Let me know if you need anything.” It didn’t take a smart man to know she didn’t really mean the last sentence. 

Flashes of the date entered Frank’s mind. The way you passionately explained each crystal’s properties and meanings to him. How your eyes seemingly lit up more when they landed on your favorite one. 

He remembered sneakily grabbing the best looking one when you walked away after looking at the price and making an excuse he couldn’t remember for you to wait at the front of the store so he could purchase the crystal. 

The pure look of surprise and adoration that was evident by the toothy smile on your face when he gifted it to you later that night. How soft and gentle your lips were while you peppered kisses all over his face in gratitude. 

Frank had a sense of deja vu as he walked through the store in the exact same path the two of you did. 

He was a man of reason. Of facts. Frank respected your love of crystals and your belief in them. That didn’t mean he did too. But if there was even the tiniest inkling the crystals were as powerful as you made them to be, he would’ve done everything in his power to bring you back. 

His gaze landed on a shelf towards the back of the store. Various collectibles were assorted neatly on it. But one in particular caught his eye. It hadn’t been there the last time he was in here with you. Frank walked over to it before grabbing one of the red and white retro-styled boxes. One Wish Willow, Frank read under his breath. 

Amaze your friends! You only get one wish.

Maybe it was because this day in particular had a heavier effect on him than others. Maybe he thought it was a way to be closer to you. Frank found himself walking to the register, the cashier looking up as he set the item down firmly onto the counter. 

“What is this?” His voice was gruff, hoarse. The sound you’d expect for a man who hasn’t spoken much. 

The cashier, a blonde woman in her early twenties, grabbed the item before looking back at Frank with an unamused look on her face. “It’s a collectible.” A statement whose words were dragged out so much it sounded like a question to Frank. “No returns.”

Frank simply pulled out his wallet, throwing the exact amount for the item before heading out the door in three long strides. 

—

Here lies Y/N. Daughter. Friend. Fiancée. 

“Until we meet again.” The quote so fitting for you, Frank thought. He hadn’t been the one to choose it. In fact, it was Matthew and Karen who had arranged everything from the headstone to the casket. Frank was drowned in grief, in disbelief at the thought of having to bury the woman he thought he would be spending the rest of his life with. 

He had barely made it to the funeral. 

But he had gone to your grave every night after. This night was no different. Except it was. 

Frank didn’t know how many hours had passed since he arrived at the cemetery, only that he’d gone to a floral shop and purchased your favorite flowers right before.

“Hey, sweetheart.” It is—was—your favorite pet name he called you. You even preferred to be called that than your own name. And he happily obliged. Reality soon punched him with realization that you were no longer here to hear him say it. “Got ya flowers. Your favorite ones.”

God, he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. To dig himself so deep that he may be able to reach you, hold you, tell you he loves you. Frank’s hands formed into fists as they hung at his side, a physical restraint to remind him that you weren’t there. Your body was but you weren’t. 

He continued talking as if you were, though. “Stopped by that crystal place y’like so much. Even bought a toy you’d laugh at me for spending money on.” A slight breeze blew across his face and for a brief moment, he swore, your laughter echoed in the wind. 

He reached into his jacket’s pocket, fishing out the vintage toy. “Thought we could open it together, baby.” He stared at the print once more before turning the box to its side, opening it haphazardly. 

“Was never the gentle one. Y’know that sweetheart.” Frank reached inside the box for its content, his fingers grabbed onto the object inside and pulled it out. An eerie sound played when Frank tugged at what looked to be a plastic twig, the haunting music cutting into the quiet night. 

You only get one wish. Frank knew he looked pathetic. A grieving man standing before his lover’s grave, begging the universe for more time. So consumed by the loss, he bought a toy for its supposed magical properties. Frank knew he looked desperate. He was. But he was also a man who knew the dead stayed dead. 

Still, he held the twig by both ends, sparing a brief glance at your headstone and closed his eyes. He envisioned you. 

You in the middle of the night, eating ice cream straight from the tub, wearing only his shirt. Your face right before you came, always wanting to look at him as you did. You wiping the blood off him every night. You, the night that tipped the scale. Your face streaked with tears as your voiced cracked, exhausted from yelling but refusing to let him allow his anger to drive him into an early grave. 

The flashback to that night threw him back into the past, despite all efforts to stop it. 

“You walk out that door every night. Every fucking night, Frank,” your voice rising along with your frustration. “You leave me here in our home where I don’t know if you’ll come back. And if you do, I don’t know what state you’ll be in. How many injuries, wounds, or bruises that threaten to take you from me.”

Frank stood by the door, dragging a hand down his face, trying to keep his anger from reaching you. “I’m not going nowhere. ‘M right here.”

You retorted, “But you’re not. Your head is always in the battlefield. Every day, a little more of you is left there. I won’t let you do this to yourself.”

“You know what they did to Maria. To my son. My babygirl.” 

Your voice softened, face scrunched in sharing his pain and understanding. “I know, baby. But is this what they would’ve wanted? When does it end?” That seemed to set the moment aflame. His voice had gone cold, deeper and darker than he’d ever spoken to you before. “I don’t know what the hell they want. ‘Cause they’re dead. Murdered. So don’t go using that shit against me, you hear me?”

Frank watched as you stepped closer to him, trying to close the distance not only physically, but emotionally. “I can’t begin to understand that kind of loss. But I love you, Frank. They loved you. And it hurts to see you like this. Letting grief morph into an armor of anger that controls your life. You don’t have to wear your grief like a badge of honor. Like it’s proof they were real.” Your hand pressed gently against his chest, right above where his heart is. “They’re here. You’re proof that they’re real.

“I want there to be an after for you. With me.”

He didn’t deserve you. Didn’t deserve your care. Your understanding. Your love. How vulnerable your presence made him. It terrified him. So, he did what he knew. He pushed you away.

Frank took a step back, your hand falling from where it rested on him. He turned his body towards the door as his hand reached for the knob. “Don’t wait up.” 

Your pleas were cut off by the slam of the door. 

—

Frank returned sometime around 3 AM. But something was wrong. Off. 

He immediately reached for his gun, fear sinking into every fiber of his being when he noticed the front door of your apartment was slightly ajar. Frank kicked the door open, eyes methodically scanning the room. 

No.

No.

No.

Frank Castle was a man whose name alone instilled prey-like fear into his enemies. Hell’s Kitchen had even nicknamed him The Punisher for his brutality against criminals. But the second his eyes landed on your body in the middle of the living room, he was just a man. 

His gun was immediately forgotten as he cradled your lifeless, unmoving body. Your name was a prayer on his lips that he repeated over and over. “Baby, c’mon, open your eyes f’me.” More and more please left his lips to no avail. The single gunshot to your chest answered for them. His pants were drenched in your blood that pooled all around you. 

He begged, voice heavy with sobs that tore from his lips. “You’re okay. You’re okay, sweetheart, just open up those pretty eyes.” But they remained closed. 

The yell that tore from his lips was one of pure, unadulterated agony.

Frank didn’t move for the gun when he felt another presence enter the room. He hadn’t looked up, only hoped that it was the intruder coming back to finish the job. 

“Frank.” It was Matt.

No response. Frank continued to caress your hair, rocking the both of you as he pleaded again for you to wake up. 

Matt said his name again. And again. 

Finally, Frank answered, his voice fragile, so painfully fractured, that Matt almost didn’t recognize it was his. “Y’gotta help me, Red. Help me save her.” Each word threatened to be the string that pulled Frank apart completely.

Frank Castle, the name alone would send chills down men’s spines. The brutal, merciless, Punisher was a shattered, heart-broken man. Nothing like the stoic, unrelenting man that executed justice. 

No. Frank Castle was like a little boy hoping for Santa to come. Wishing on a shooting star as he begged Matt to save you. The man Hell’s Kitchen’s criminals feared was now met with something he couldn’t fight. No gun or brute force could beat the grief that consumed his entire being. 

“Don’t wait up.” Were his last three words he said to you. Three last words said in anger, in panic over being vulnerable. They weren’t the three words he had said to you every night before. And you would never hear the three last words from him ever again. 

—

A tear trickled down his left cheek, splattering onto the plastic twig. Frank Castle was a man of reason.

But he had never been reasonable when it came to you. So, he wished. “I wish Y/N L/N was alive again.” The sharp snap of the twig cut through the silence around him. 

Frank waited. And waited. For what, he wasn’t sure. Humorlessly, he shook his head as he left out a huff. “Losin’ it without y’here, sweetheart.” Frank pressed two fingers to his lips before moving them to your headstone. “I love you.”

—

Frank returned sometime around 3 AM. But something was wrong. Off. 

He immediately reached for the gun he kept on him at all times. Slowly, he unlocked the front door, before holding his gun up, scanning the room. Frank Castle was a man whose name alone instilled prey-like fear into his enemies. Hell’s Kitchen had even nicknamed him The Punisher for his brutality against gangs. But the second his eyes landed on you standing in the middle of the living room, he was just a man.

His entire body froze, like time stood still. You were wearing exactly what you’d been wearing that night. Every inch of your body completely unharmed. Untouched. 

You said his name. So gently, like his name was precious. Sacred. “Frank?” It had undone him completely. In two long strides, he stood before you, hands holding your face between them delicately. Like if he held on any tighter, you’d disappear. 

“Are you-Are you real?”. The question sounded incredulous to your ears, the crease between your brows evident of that. But you smiled anyway. “What’re you talking about, Frankie? Of course I’m real.” He didn’t question it as he wrapped his arms around you, burying his face into your neck. Though you were still confused, comforting Frank took precedence in your mind. You gently caressed his hair, which you noticed had impossibly gotten longer in the few hours you’d seen him.

His tears soaked your shirt and his embrace almost left you unable to breathe but you continued to whisper words of comfort in an attempt to soothe him. “Wanna tell me what’s got you so upset, baby?” Frank didn’t respond. Didn’t trust his voice to not give out. 

And he didn’t want to pull away even a centimeter. He knew he wouldn’t survive if he opened his eyes and you were no longer there. So he simply shook his head. 

You nodded, voice still soft in a tone you only ever used with him. “Okay, okay, we don’t have to tonight. But let’s get you changed and ready for bed, yeah?” His grip on you tightened the second you tried to unravel yourself from him a bit. His head shot up from its place in the crook of your neck. His eyes filled with fear. Panic.

Now it was you who cupped his face. “I’m here, Frankie. I’m here. See?” You gently grabbed his hand and placed it above your heart. It was supposed to be a soothing gesture and it was. But Frank couldn’t feel the soft thumps of your heartbeat. Not thinking much of it though, Frank blamed it on how hard his own heart was pounding and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. “C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

He let you drag him into your shared bedroom.

Everything remained unchanged. Frank hadn’t moved a single item from its place since your death.

He let you help him take off his shirt and pants before helping him slip into a pair of grey sweatpants. “Better?” You asked him. He nodded before closing the small distance between you. One of his hands slipped around your waist while the other gently caressed your cheek. Instinctually, you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

You couldn’t make out every emotion etched onto his face. So many fleeting after the other. But you didn’t have time to begin to decipher them as Frank smashed his lips against yours, pouring every emotion he couldn’t say. You responded with just as much rigor.

His hand that held your cheek joined his other one in wrapping you into a tight embrace, pulling you impossibly closer. His grip on your waist slowly moved to behind your thighs, you wrapping your legs around his waist in response. Frank slowly lowered you onto the bed, trapping your body in between his legs. Your hand found its way to Frank’s curls at the nape of his neck, tugging at them gently. He groaned into your mouth, the sound pulling a moan out of your lips in response. “Frank.” Your voice breathless. 

“Say my name again.” His lips traveling down to your jawline. To your neck where he began to gently suck at the sensitive skin. “C’mon, sweetheart. Say it.” 

“Frank.” You moaned, your nails lightly scratched his back in pleasure. He moved his lips to your sweetheart he had memorized. Your hips bucked into his when he gently nibbled at the spot. “Frank!”

He had missed the sound. Missed you. He had let you die without letting you know how much he loved you. 

Frank would not make that mistake again. He helped you out of the shirt you were wearing—his shirt. And he so gently helped you out of your lacy underwear, and attached his lips to yours once more. You felt his tongue trace your bottom lip. The feeling of his tongue dancing with yours elicited another pitchy moan from you, Frank grinned his hips into yours in response, his mouth swallow the sound. Slowly, his lips made their way down to your neck before moving to your breasts, nipples hardened in anticipation and pleasure. He took one into his mouth, switching from swirling his tongue to gently sucking on it, as his other hand kneaded your other breast before switching. 

You were light-headed in pleasure, hands pulling at his hair as you moaned his name over and over. Frank moved down further til his head was in between your thighs. Not waiting another moment, he pressed his tongue flat onto your clit, before licking a long, slow strip up. Your hands gripped the sheets, trying to ground yourself in the moment. He continued to lick and suck as one of his hands began rubbing in a circular motion.

“Missed you, sweetheart.” His tongue continued to lap at the space between your sensitive folds. “‘M so sorry.” His breath was hot against your flesh. “Oh, Frankie,” you panted, your fingers tugging even harder at his hair. “Don’t stop, I’m close.” And he didn’t. He continued to work your clit with his mouth before he suddenly added a long, thick finger. You clenched, adjusting to the stretch. Your hips moved against his face, the feeling of his large nose bumping your clit was almost enough to make you come.

The pleasure built further as he added another finger, curling them inside you, hitting the spot he knew would make you reach your climax. Your thigh clenched, legs slightly shaking as you orgasmed. Sounds of pleas left your lips as he lapped up all your juices. “So sensitive, Frankie, please.” Only then did he move his body so that he was directly on top of you once more. The bottom half of his face glistened with your cum, making you blush as you pulled him down for another wet, messy kiss. Your hands made their way to the waistband of his boxers, one of them moving to palm  his hardened length. He gently bit down on your lower lip, pulling it slightly before releasing. 

You watched as he pulled the boxers off quickly, the head of his cock leaking with precum. He’d been inside you before, but you could never get used to the sheer size of him. Had this been another night, Frank might’ve smirked and teased you about gawking. But tonight, he needed to feel you, be inside you as fast as possible. He moved back onto the bed, placing his arms on either side of your head, moving his hips so that the head of his cock was lined up with your entrance, pressing slightly. 

He bottomed out in a singular thrust, your nails digging into the skin on his back as you moaned. You felt so full. 

Frank looked down at you, searching for any signs of discomfort. When your eyes finally met his, he began moving. Each thrust was slow as he pulled himself almost all the way out before thrusting back in fully. You felt euphoric. Each thrust hit a spot so deep inside you. The spot he knew made you roll your eyes back in pure bliss. “Oh god, Frankie, right there-“ You begun to say incoherent sentences. He moved a hand to throw a leg over his waist, gripping your thigh so it felt even deeper. “Feel so good around me, baby.” He groaned, voice raspy and deep. “Only one f’me ever.”

Tears fell from the outer corner of your eyes as you reached your second climax. Frank came not long after, releasing after you’d clenched hard around his length. He peppered gentle kisses on your face, bringing you down from the high. 

When your breath finally evened out, he carefully pulled out. You whined at the loss of contact. Frank entered the bathroom and came back with a damp towel, it felt warm and soothing against your sensitive skin as he wiped you clean. When he finished, he placed a delicate kiss on your inner thigh before throwing the towel into the laundry basket. “Did so good, sweetheart.” 

Frank remained awake long after you’d fallen asleep. His mind wouldn’t allow him to succumb to slumber. He feared that if he closed his eyes for longer than a second, he open them to find you gone. So he tightened his arm that was wrapped around your sleeping body and watched as your chest rose and fell rhythmically.

—

A week had gone by. Every morning, you woke up in his arms. Every night, you fell asleep in his embrace. Seven days of normalcy. 

Seven days of Frank being able to wrap his arms around you while you cooked. Placing kisses onto your shoulder.

Seven days of Frank kissing you at any given moment just because he could. 

Frank had begun to allow himself to let his guard down. To allow himself to melt into your arms. Your kisses. Your love. 

But one should know, all magic comes with a price.

—

Frank woke up to a blood curdling scream. Your scream. He reached for the gun that rested atop of his nightstand, sitting upright, scanning the bedroom. Though he found no intruder, his body remained tensed as you screamed again. 

He said your name as he shook you slightly. “Baby, wake up.” 

Your body jolted upright. Chest heaving. When it seemed as though you finally came to your senses. You turned to look at Frank, who adorned a worried expression on his face. “Frankie?”

He gently grabbed your face in between his large, rough hands. Eyes searching for answers on your face.  “You were screaming in your sleep, sweetheart. Wanna tell me what happened?” 

Your eyes now had a daze look to them as you tried to recall the events of your nightmare. “I…it was so scary, Frank. I was so scared.” His arms immediately came to wrap around you in a protective embrace the second your voice broke. 

“‘M right here. Not gonna let anythin’ hurt you, ya hear me?” Not again, he meant. 

You swallowed, throat suddenly becoming dry as you moved back a bit so you could look up at him. “It was night. I was by myself in our apartment.” Frank patiently waited and you collected your thoughts together, rubbing his hands up and down your arms in a soothing manner. 

“I remember feeling like my heart was so heavy…like there was something sitting on my chest. I think I was waiting for you to come home but I got sleepy.” You played with the hem of his shirt you’d worn to sleep. “The lights were barely turned off when I heard the front door open. I’m sorry, Frankie, don’t be mad but I don’t think I remembered to lock the door in my dream-“

“Ain’t got nothing to be sorry for. Y’hear me?” He gripped your chin, making sure you looked at him as he said it. You nodded before continuing, “I thought it was you so I went to the living room. A man was standing there.” You were gripping his hand now, Frank not minding the tightness of it one bit. “I was frozen, didn’t know what to do, and then…he shot me point blank.” 

Tears welled up in your eyes. “I know it was just a dream, Frankie. But it felt so real. The pain from the bullet was agonizing and I don’t remember where he went after. But all I could do was just lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling as I began to lose feeling in my limbs. But that wasn’t the worst part.” It was now Frank’s turn for his grip to become vine-like. 

“It was after. After…was just nothing. It wasn’t darkness. Darkness is a color. It was just…nothing. I tried screaming in my dream but I couldn’t. Didn’t realize I was actually screaming out loud.” For a moment, Frank said nothing. 

All the blood seemingly drained from his face. It couldn’t be. You had just recited the exact events leading up to your death. Except, you thought it was just a dream. You didn’t know it had been Frank’s reality just a week ago. Your voice broke him from his thoughts. 

Your eyes peered up at him, oozing with vulnerability. He pressed a soft kiss on your lips before coaxing you to lie back down. “It was just a dream, sweetheart. You know I’d never let anyone or anything hurt you, yeah?”. Frank pressed another gentle kiss on your lips once you nodded in agreement. 

You managed to fall back asleep after some encouragement and words of assurance from the man. Frank was not a lucky. His mind raced and searched for any possible explanation. He hadn’t slept an ounce by the time you woke up. 

—

Two nights after the incident, Frank sleepily reached for your body, immediately sitting upright when his arm failed to find you. “Baby?” He called out, trying to silence the fear that began to bloom in his chest. Seeing the bedroom door slightly open, he followed his instincts into the living room. It was completely pitch dark, save for the moonlight that streamed in from the window. When his eyes finally adjusted, he saw you standing abnormally still in the living room. In the exact same spot where he’d found you. Swallow harshly, he called out to you cautiously. “Sweetheart? What’re you doin’ awake?”

No response. You didn’t move an inch, your gaze remained fixated onto the floor. He called your name again. “C’mon, sweetheart, gotta answer me. ‘M worried.” Silence. 

Then, when he was just inches from you, you finally spoke. But your voice didn’t sound like yours. It sounded foreign and far away. “This is where I died, isn’t it?” Frank swore his heart almost stopped. “Say that again, sweetheart?” He had heard you clearly. 

You tore your gaze from the floor, meeting his. Gone was the love your eyes always seemed to hold whenever you looked at him. In its place was a haunted look that had settled in your eyes. “I died.” 

Frank mouth had gone dry. It opened and closed as he tried to find the correct words. “It was just a dream, remember, sweetheart?” He had chose to lie for he could not face the truth yet. He could not explain how he had simply snapped a plastic twig and you appeared in the room where you died, untouched. 

You repeated your words. “I died. It felt real because it happened. In this exact spot. Where’s my heart, Frank? Where did my heart go?” Frank didn’t answer. Because he didn’t have one. 

One of your hands move to your chest, right where your heart was supposed to be beating. “I don’t feel it, Frank. I don’t feel anything. Just this…agonizing pain. All the time.” You noticed the tears that threatened to leave Frank’s eyes as he stood there, helpless. “Frank…

“How am I here?”. 

Your voice was so delicate, like a quiet breath. Your eyes were still hollow. A ghost of who you used to be. 

Frank couldn’t admit it to himself, let alone you. How could he tell you that he noticed from the very beginning that something wasn’t right. That he didn’t feel your heartbeat that first night. Or any other when he rested his head on your chest, pressing his ear against it searching for even the lightest thump. He refused to acknowledge the lack of warmth your skin held. How drastically cold it was in comparison to before your death. But the longer he stared at you, the more he realized just how different you looked. 

Your hair, once shiny and health and become dull and lifeless. Your skin, once so warm, so soft and felt smooth whenever his hands roamed every crevice of your body was now cold, corpse-like. Your eyes, the ones that used to look at him like he was the center of your universe, had lost its flame. 

You looked dead.

As if all the strength left his body, Frank fell to his knees before you, wrapping his arms around your legs, muttering apologies. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. It was so selfish of me. But I just missed you. So damn much.” Your hands hung limp at your body. “I didn’t think it was real. Didn’t think much at all.

Frank looked up at you when he felt your hand caress his cheek. He leaned into it, despite the situation of it all, he just wanted you. Whatever was left. And so slowly he explained all of it, the vintage collectible item, the twig inside the box, how he’d snapped it at your grave. “I made the wish because I was drowning in misery. In pain. And for a moment, I let it believe it was all real. No cost.

“I was selfish when I left that night and I was selfish the night I snapped that fucking toy. I dragged you into the hole with me.” The tears fell. God, Frank knew he didn’t deserve you the first time around. He should’ve known he didn’t deserve a second chance with you. Not after how the first time ended. 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” You kneeled so that you were now almost eye to eye with the way he hung his head. “Frank. Look at me.” He didn’t. He wasn’t sure if he could handle what he’d see.

You called his name again. “Frank. Please.”

Slowly, he lifted his head and met your eyes. You grabbed his face gently between your hands, resting your forehead on top of his. “I understand.”

He pulled back in shock, though you didn’t let him get far. “I understand. I’d have done the same, Frankie.”

“Life has been so hard on you. I’m not angry at you for reaching out for help. I’m sad because my absence has added to your grief. But you have to let me go.” The silence thickened at those last three words.

“What’re you talking about, sweetheart?”. Frank couldn’t let you go. He’d just gotten you back.

“This is my body. This is my voice.” You paused. “But it’s not me. I’m not the woman who died that night.” Frank shook his head. “I can’t…I can’t lose you again, sweetheart. Can’t.” 

“You’re not losing me. I’m here.” You pressed your hand against his chest, feeling how fast his heart was pumping. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. “I’m always with you.” 

“Sweetheart, please—“ No one would believe it if you had told them that the almighty Frank Castle had fallen to his knees and was begging. You kissed him, as hard as he had that first night, pouring in everything words would fail to encompass. 

“Frankie, you have to let me go.” He knew you were right, but he had to pick a fight, because if he gave in, you’d slip through his fingers. Again. 

“I loved you then. I loved you in death. I love you now.” Your gaze filled with so much love yet was so hollow had completely shattered his heart. His chest physically aching as a result. “I know my words alone will do little to soothe the ache. And I know nothing I leave will ever be enough. But—“ Your voice cracked, as if him finally loosening his grip on his wish was beginning to set you free. 

“If you ever miss the sound of my voice. My laughter. Or you begin to forget the color of my eyes, check your phone when I am gone.” You had left voice notes, for various scenarios and you had left pictures. You had been able to prepare this time.

“But if you begin to miss my presence, step outside and feel the breeze by my grave.” Your voice began to sound quieter, as if you were farther than you really were. But your cheeks were beginning to flush. Your eyes were gleaming even in the dark room. Frank swears your temperature has risen. He pressed a feather-light kiss on your palm. “The pain will fade eventually, my love.

“I’m just glad we were given a chance to say goodbye this time.” He pulled you into him in a tight embrace, one that you couldn’t escape from even if you wanted to. You didn’t. And pressed right against his chest, he could feel your heart beating for the first time since you’d been resurrected.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, toying with the ends of his curls one final time. “Keep your hair like this. I like it.” He held you tighter.

“I’ll do whatever you want, sweetheart. I love you.” 

One moment, you were in his arms.

The next, you were gone. Vanished into thin air. Like the three words he’d spoken to you had finally set you free. 

Frank Castle was a man whose name alone instilled prey-like fear into his enemies. Hell’s Kitchen had even nicknamed him The Punisher for his brutality against gangs. But as he knelt in the exact spot your body was when you died, he was just a man who loved you so much, he let you go.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 SUMMARY: flirting with your guests is a regular on your youtube show… but flirting with SPIDER-MAN hits different, especially ‘cause he flirts right back!

ⓘ CONTENT WARNINGS: flirting, teasing -> confident fem! reader ノ dialogue heavy ノ back-and-forth banter ノ heavyyyy fluff ノ couple of uses of y/n!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: wow, me not posting smut for once— fluff will appear on this page every once and a while. my guilty pleasure watch is “chicken shop date” and love the idea of spider-man flirting heavyyyy. god, i can’t wait for brand new day! btw, i don’t own chicken shop, that shit belongs to amelia diloldenberg, only using the idea!

NEW NOTIFICATION!

CHICKEN SHOP DATE with y/n l/n has uploaded a new video: SPIDER-MAN | CHICKEN SHOP DATE #214

(2 hours ago…)

it took about two years to finally get the man on your show… but finally, someone from spider-man’s personal life finally listened to you and got him on your youtube series.

peter? loved your show. he loves the guests and the style of the show and your laid back personality compared to the other shows on youtube. he always found late night shows too… forced, other people had weird questions, but yours? yours was perfect

the only issue? they asked for… him. so now, here he was, dressed in his spider-man suit, mask halfway pushed up to reveal his mouth and a part of his jawline, and a camera on him… steaming hot chicken and fries sitting in front of him.

and here you were; internally freaking out that you were really interviewing him, the fucking king of new york himself. spider-man. fucking spider-man. the wall crawler!

the restaurant atmosphere wasn’t tense or quiet but rather warm and nervous. maybe it’s cause you’re interviewing world famous superhero, possibly. but even spider-man across the table was nervous as he tasted the food.

but then, spider-man speaks the first words of the video. “you know… this is really good chicken.”

“thanks, we try to make the chicken at least some what edible… like me.” you reply to him, taking a bite of your own food; it’s pretty good, you will agree with him like that.

immediately, peter could feel his heart do a little flip thing that he’s felt before… but never to this extent. he doesn’t let it show though, he knows he can’t be too confident on this show— just be friendly, flirt back, and don’t overshare too much. “well it’s good cause i’m hungry. i didn’t eat before coming.”

you lean back in your chair, pointing to him. “so how do you work out? considering you’re a… human spider after all.”

he chuckles lightly, covering his mouth with the top of his hand before speaking, pointing to his own body. “the spider-like qualities don’t really… stick in terms of… appetite and stuff like that.”

“oh? it doesn’t.”

“no, luckily i’ve gotten good at maintaining sweat and all that jazz.”

[video cuts to an outside shot of the shop; nighttime with the moon bright and the lights of the chicken shop lit brightly; Y/N’S CHICKEN. ON 45TH STREET]

peter takes another bite of the chicken as he swirls the straw around in his chosen drink. “you know… we’ve probably met before.”

“oh yeah?” you challenge. “you think as spider-man we’ve met or as your secret alias thing?”

he shrugs as he scratches his left cheek with his fingers. “i mean, probably as both… sorry if i didn’t remember you if i did save you once; i save a lot of people.”

you put your chin on your hand as you completely ignore his defense. “you have been avoiding me”

“have i?” he asks, tilting his head.

you nodded. “yeah, been trying to get you on this show for two years up to this point… seems like my calls to your manager didn’t reach you.”

he nods his head even if he doesn’t agree with your sentiment. “i don’t have a manager darling, it’s just me… who the hell would you have called in the first place?”

“i tried the daily bugle but they hung up on me, i think i was talking to jameson himself."

“yeah… he doesn’t really… fancy me all too much.” 

putting a chicken strip into your mouth, you chew on it before putting your knuckles to your mouth, swallowing it as you respond. “oh that’s so unfortunate.”

peter points his french-fry holding fingers at you in agreement. “that’s what i tell them because i don’t do anything wrong and yet they have an issue!”

“i mean, what did you do to them?” you question, a teasing tone to your words.

peter shrugs. “i don’t know.”

“did you like, fuck jameson’s wife? flirt with his daughter in front of him?” you ask, adding possible solutions to j.jonah jameson’s undying hatred for the wallcrawler.

“not that i know of.” he answers, sipping from his straw. “spider-man doesn’t usually do the hit it and quit it stuff so i know i didn’t do anything to him personally.”

you crack a smile at his words. “so spider-man doesn’t fuck a civillian he saves if they ask hard enough?”

he shakes his head. “nope… not trying to have a son or daughter running ‘round and it uh… reveals my secret identity because of dna and everything… plus, not trying to give my powers away.”

“selfish.” 

“reasonable.” 

[video cuts to a woman’s arm, your arm, putting the fries from the deep-fry basket onto the tray, ready to serve to the next customer]

you eat a couple of fries before steering the conversation somewhere else. “so we all know new york is the weirdest of weird places… what’s the weirdest thing you’ve interrupted while swinging?”

spider-man chuckles behind his glass. “uhhhh… basically, i accidentally landed… right in between a proposing couple on one of those garden rooftops.” 

“was there like a serial killer on the roof? what happened?” you ask.

“uh… the ring rolled off the roof and the guy nearly fell trying to catch it.” he explains, rubbing the back of his head as he chews on a fry, taking the time to scratch the back of his neck as well. “they still got engaged.” 

“did you go to the wedding?”

“no, wasn’t on the guest list.”

you click your tongue. “you know; i would invite you to my wedding.”

he smiles bold. “oh really? you think i could look good in a suit?”

“you’d be invited as the groom and not a guest.” your tone deadpan despite the smile on your lips.

peter nods in understanding— he tries to hide his blush at flirty words. “ohhhhh.”

[video cuts to a close up on the chicken’s shop menu… damn, in this economy, it’s surprising to see a 4 chicken tender and fry combo for seven dollars. the sound of the kitchen can be heard in the background.]

peter fixes his mask to make sure it doesn’t reveal too much before he speaks again. “i noticed that the colors of the show’s logo match my suit.”

you look up, smiling as you eat another piece of chicken. “oh yeah?” you cover your mouth to swallow before finishing your sentence. “you like it?”

“it’s an honor, sweetheart.”

[video cuts to the grill inside the kitchen, two pieces of texas toast sitting butter side down]

“is it true that all superheroes are fuckboys and fuckgirls?” you ask.

peter looks up at you, eyes of the mask widening before shortly going back to regular position, waving his hand is dismay. “nah, most of us are professional. i know the human torch and hawkeye and that knobhead from bludhaven, what’s his name?”

“nightwing?” you finish his question, remembering that black hair bird gymnast sitting across from you.

he snaps his finger. “yeah, that kid… bro, he gives us a bad rep ‘cause he’s always flirting with his fans… it’s like totally crazy the type of stuff he pulls with ‘em.”

“so you, spider-man, don’t flirt with your own fans?” you question him, raising a brow as you lean forward on the table.

the webslinger shakes his head. “nope. not trying to have my name trending for flirting.”

“well i’m a fan and you’re flirting with me right now…”

“if you wanna spin it like that.”

[video cuts to the soda station in the shop; all sodas are available except mountain dew. a sticky-note is placed at the bottom of the dispensary, reading very simply; out of order.]

“i’ve asked people out a lot.” you begin, swinging around the half-eaten chicken strip in your fingers. “and have gotten no’s back.”

peter interrupts with a smile, pointing to the ceiling of the restaurant. “in this way or like… in a real way?”

“no… no…” you begin, tilting his head at the accusation that this restaurant is not a real way. how dare he. “well, this is real, but…”  

then, spider-man busts out into a fit of laughter— serious, unbridled laughter. you just made spider-man laugh and there’s something good about that. there’s something sweet about having that power over someone so much more powerful.

“stop laughing damn it!” you say, reaching over and smacking the back of his shoulder, which only makes him laugh. “this is a serious issue!”

“oh i know it is, y/n, that’s why i’m laughing!” he tries to explain in between laughs, finally leaning back in his chair. 

you look at him dumbfounded, but a smile doesn’t stop from appearing on your lips. “you think you’re so fucking funny.”

“i think you’re funny, darling.”

[video cuts to a still shot of the outside deal; free desert with a purchase over $10, and in this restaurant? that’s pretty easy to get… so obviously, free cakes and free brownies were flying all over that damn restaurant]

“are you seeing anyone?” you ask him, stealing one of his fries.

he shakes his head as he does the same to you; stealing a much bigger fry than you stole. “not right now, it’s kinda hard to date with the whole… superhero stuff. why? you seeing if you have a chance?”

“maybe, why does that matter?” you press him, leaning back and crossing your arms.

he mirrors your action; key sign of someone liking you, mirroring your actions. “just asking. it’s hard to try to be on a date and suddenly an idiot is trying to rob a bank down fifth avenue.” he explains, motioning with his hand. 

you nod along. “are you feeling any danger around us?”

he puts his fingers on his chin; surprisingly? his spidey-sense haven’t gone off… maybe this is a sign. “nope, for once, my little inside radar ain’t going off.”

and you almost read his mind perfect. “aye, it’s a sign we are made for each other.”

“can you handle heights?” he asks.

you shrug. “possibly, why you asking?” you question. 

peter sticks his tongue to the inside of his cheek, visible to the screen as he scratches the back of his neck, a blush clear on his cheeks. “maybe after this, i can show you what a little web slinging with spidey is like.” 

[video cuts to an empty version of the chicken shop; the red and white tables nice and pretty, the lights vibrant inside the restaurant, in the background has two workers behind the cash register.]

“so… as we wrap up our date… speak now or forever hold your truth, they say.” you offer him before sipping on your drink.

peter thinks for a minute before grinning bright. “eh, you have my number, this won’t be our last date.”

4,912 COMMENTS (sort by…)

add a comment…

user431 (2 hours ago)

i have never seen two ppl flirt so hard before and go absolutely no where | 34K likes

user01 (2 hours ago)

HE WAS BEATING HER AT HER OWN GAME AND I LOVED EVERY SECOND OF IT | 12K likes

╰ user43: she wasn’t trying to stop it either

╰ user04: when he asked her to go web-slinging 🫦

user69 (2 hours ago)

would pay exponential amounts of money to see an uncut version of this | 128K likes

user420 (2 hours ago)

the random nightwing stray???? 😭😭😭 | 44K likes

╰ user55: bro is FUMING

╰ user67: he’s impregnating one of his fans just to make spidey more mad at the fact that he’s giving them a bad rep

╰ user58: and i’m the baby mama!

╰ user06: sorry! the baby mama is actually me!

╰ user88: i need to see them interact!

╰ user77: i fear spidey is putting him through the wall

johnnystorm (2 hours ago)

this motherfucker has no game istg | 404K likes

╰ mattthelawyer: how does he have the bucket right in front of him and yet still not score???

╰ johnnystorm: dawg idk, this is baddd

╰ user100: how tf is matt the blind lawyer typing if he can’t see shit?

╰ user44: user100 never heard of asking siri to read the comment out loud

user667 (2 hours ago)

their sex tape would go crazy | 69K likes

user111 (2 hours ago)

watching this after being broken up with was NOT a good idea lmaooooo | 101K likes

ironfistyoass (2 hours ago)

and i thought i was bad at realizing flirting attempts | 91K likes

╰ user789: it’s not even that he’s bad at flirting, it’s just that neither of them will fucking admit shit 😭

peterbparker (2 hours ago)

loved this one y/n, great interview! | 1K likes

╰ user123: jolly aah mf

╰ user457: basic ass comment

╰ user843: ur that mf from the daily bugle, u know spider-man, get this motherfucker on game or tell him to pass the controller!

╰ peterbparker: you think I know spidey personally?

╰ user843: yes. get on it.

user674 (2 hours ago)

i love how he says he doesn’t want to be on trending for flirting with fans and yet he’s been #1 trending for 2 hours bc of this interview 😭😭 | 690K likes

user999 (2 hours ago)

imagine if they become the next rpf final boss like superman and lois lane | 55K likes

╰ user885: their sex tape didn’t leak, this couple’s will atp

╰ user798: still can’t believe they actually became a thing

╰ user321: loved how they went from denying their relationship every single time they were seen out together. the amount of times “i’m just interviewing him” was said is insaneee

╰ user541: everyone remembers that casino video leaking of batman, wonder woman, green lantern, and the flash putting bets of them ‘cause even they were shipping them!

╰ user999: everyone was there for the sky photos

╰ user561: when they got photographed fucking on the daily planet logo 😭😭😭

masterlist is here! click here for more!

more here | wann join the taglist?

summary: peter is exposed to something he doesn't know and his spidey senses lead him to some things (part two to breath one two three) warning: 18+ male masturbation , gender neutral reader , s3x pollen , a very pervy peter, reader pleasure, rough, very wet lol pairing: peter parker x gender neutral reader

summary: peter 'friendly neighborhood spider-man' parker drooling at the sight of you when picking you up for the stark gala, and though he tries, peter is just unable to behave himself when you look that good

wc: ~6.7k

cw: jesus, okay. 18+! MNDI! alcohol consumption, heavy making out, unprotected p in v (don't do this! wrap it!), fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), multiple positions, praise kink, cocky peter, also softdom!peter, multiple orgasms, creamp!e (hot but we HAVE to find a different word), just a lot of hot and heavy pining

an: hello! this is my impossible to behave around series combined into one fic for those who prefer to read longer writing! this was the first multi-part i ever wrote, and my part three just hit 1000 notes 🥹 hope you enjoy!

masterlist and taglist!

peter put the finishing touches on his curls, doing his best to follow the instructions tony had given him. he wasn’t used to putting any effort into his hair, let alone the rest of his get-up for the evening. peter couldn't remember the last time he'd worn a three-piece suit to something. he had never been to a stark gala before, but he knew it was a bigger deal than anything he could even imagine.

he shot himself one last look in the mirror, running his hands over the custom-tailored jacket tony had gifted him. he’d never admit it, but he understood cashmere now.

peter threw his final belongings in his pocket as he did one last sweep of his room, and he made a hasty exit down the hallway towards your room in the stark compound.

he was beyond anxious; every one of peter's senses was on edge (even more than the normal 1000%). he stood in front of your door, hands shaking as he brought his fist up to knock gently. he rapped in a succession of five knocks, signaling it was him on the other side.

peter rocked on his heels as he awaited your answer, his impatient mind going a thousand miles an hour.

and suddenly, it was going zero. as soon as peter caught sight of you opening the door, it was the only thing on his mind: past, present, future.

he couldn’t help but let his eyes trail down your figure, taking in the entirety of the grace and elegance that adorned you. you stood in front of him, a gorgeous red silk dress ornamenting your body in the best way possible.

his color. you were wearing his color.

and you had your hair down, which he rarely ever saw, and suddenly he had a preferred hairstyle on you. everything about you made his breath catch in his throat, and he felt like he was under a spell.

“… peter?”

“oh my god, you, y-you look stunning,” peter responded in practically a moan, mouth hanging agape like the dog you had turned him into.

your face flushed, a smirk creeping on your lips as you reached over to grab your purse.

“you don’t look so bad yourself, pete.” you stepped out of your doorway, nearly having to push him backwards to leave your room.

you laughed, “are you ready to head out?”

peter nodded his head eagerly, bowing his arm out for you to link. you did so with content, and the two of you made your way to the elevator, nerves overpowering as you walked with him.

the tension between the two of you was palpable, both walking through the compound with aching silence. your heels echoed against the tile as you made your way to the main entrance, where happy was waiting with a car. you looked up at peter as you made your way into the lobby, his head turning immediately to look at you as he caught your glance in his peripheral. the moment your eyes locked, every last bit of air was vacuumed from your lungs. you could tell he felt the same way, his adam's apple bobbing as he took a heavy swallow. you gave him a smile, but not an innocent one at that. no, he knew the smile was filled with intention. he only hoped he was right about what said intention was.

happy's loud clap snapped them out of their trance. "okay! you two are not the only ones i have to pick up, so if we could just, pause the weird horny moment and get in the car, that would be awesome."

peter's cheeks flushed immediately, shocked with himself at how easily he was completely and utterly distracted by you. you had him under a spell, he was sure of it, but he couldn't seem to care.

you laughed and apologized to happy, rushing peter towards the limo. he ran ahead of you to grab the door, holding your hand as you lowered yourself into the vehicle. you looked up at your hand in his, the feeling of his skin on yours burning your senses. he looked so good in his suit, so strong and big. you shook yourself free from the trance, scooting further in to allow peter room on the seat.

he slid in after you, shutting the door behind him and never breaking eye contact. he let out a shaky breath and chewed on the inside of his lip, forcing himself to take deep breaths even just looking at you.

he was snapped out of it, jumping in his seat at the sound of a door slamming, signaling happy in the driver's seat. he looked up to make eye contact with him in the rearview mirror and let out a huff of air at seeing the older man wink at him before rolling up the privacy screen.

he stopped it an inch before closing, "sam and bucky will be in that backseat in less than five minutes. behave yourselves."

after sam and bucky got into the car, all tension quickly dissolved. between you and peter, that is. the second they made eye contact with the two of you, it was like they knew.

sam let out a chuckle, "well i was going to lend a compliment and say how nice you guys look, but something tells me you're both well aware already."

bucky barked out laughing at the comment, earning nothing but blushing cheeks from the two of you. you shifted slightly apart, glaring at the men in front of you. peter quickly went to start a conversation, hoping he could do anything to take the attention off of how obviously whipped he was coming off. jesus, this was going to be a long night.

after an agonizing car ride, you arrived at the venue and shuffled out of the far too cramped back seat. bucky clapped peter on the shoulder, throwing him a wink before heading up the walkway with sam.

peter took a deep breath and extended his arm out to you with a smile, beginning to lead you inside. once at the doorway, though, he hesitated. you looked up at him with your eyebrows furrowed slightly, "nervous?"

he almost jumped at your words, turning to look down at you. he let out a breathy laugh, "y-yeah, actually. kind of. i've never been to anything t-this, this nice before."

you smiled and gave him a nod, "yeah, honestly me neither,"

you took a deep breath, moving your arm off of his and going to intertwine your fingers instead. the action, simple as it may be, ignited something in the both of you. "i think it'll be fun, pete. we got this."

he took a deep breath as well, smiling at you once more with a squeeze of your hand before opening the door.

yeah, he had every right to be nervous. the venue was gorgeous and huge. everyone was dressed to the nines, and despite wearing what the tony stark had picked for him, he somehow felt underdressed. the ceilings were adorned with the most intricate chandeliers he'd ever seen, the entire venue decked out in the latest nanobot technology stark enterprises was showing off to the world. it didn't feel real.

a man walked past them with a platter of champagne flutes and peter took his chance, using his left hand to snag two glasses off as the man made his way around, his right hand never letting go of yours. he turned to you to offer you a flute, a smile creeping on his face with pride at how fluid the action was.

"wow pete, how smooth." you smirked up at him, bringing the glass to your lips. he swallowed hard, having to look away from how you were looking up at him. calm down, peter. it's not even 8pm.

he took a large swig from his own glass, his ears perking up as he heard his name from across the room. he looked over to see sam, bucky, and tony bantering and looking in his direction. they all laughed as he made eye contact, tony giving him a soft wink with the raise of his glass.

peter cleared his throat, "hey, i uh, i think i'm going to go check in with mr. stark, y-you know, thank him, for all of this, i mean,"

you giggled at how nervous he was, squeezing his hand once more before letting go. "that's okay, i'm going to go find nat. i'll see you in a bit pete, don't have too much fun without me."

he let out a shaky breath as you parted from him, downing the rest of his flute before grabbing another and heading towards the man of the hour.

you made your way through the crowd to where nat and wanda were standing, both adorned in the most gorgeous gowns you've ever seen.

"jesus guys, save some men for the rest of us!" they both turned to you, laughing at your comment as they reached out for you.

"holy shit, (y/n), you look stunning!" wanda exclaimed, her eyes raking up and down your figure. you smirked.

"so i've heard. i can't remember the last time i wore something this expensive, honestly probably never." you let out a chuckle, finishing off the glass of champagne peter had given you. nat handed you another.

you all small-talked for a while, chatting about how excessively gorgeous the event was and how put together everyone looked. it didn't take long for the conversation to turn to you and peter.

nat took a swig of her flask. "i mean, come on (y/n). i can't believe neither of you have made a move yet. i can practically see the two of you undressing each other with your eyes"

you blushed at the comment, looking across the room to where peter was. "i don't know nat, he's never actually... said anything, or, i don't know. i'm worried i'm reading things wrong, and i don't want to be bold if i'm not one hundred percent, you know?"

"trust me, i do know. and i'll be a hundred percent for you: that man over there has already planned out at least ten different ways he's going to fuck you. not wants to, is going to."

you let out a breath, ripping the flask out of her hand and taking an impressively long drink. "let's hope so."

peter stood on the other end of the event space, initially to thank tony for the invite, and now cornered by sam and bucky, who were absolutely dogging on him for the car ride over. peter was an absolute flustered mess, eyes entirely focused on the remaining bubbles in his glass.

"i mean jesus, pete. if you don't make a move on her tonight, i think i'm going to have to." bucky let out a hardy laugh.

the thought of bucky's hands on you caused peter's skin to boil. he grit his teeth, making eye contact with him and tightening his grip on his glass. foreign feelings of jealousy flooded his veins, and it wasn't until a hand hit his shoulder that he was knocked out of his haze.

"that's the energy i'm looking for. go get her, kid."

peter let out a huff, a nervous and airy laugh escaping his lips as he shakes himself out. he nodded to the guys, handing sam his now empty champagne glass and striding in your direction. he grabbed his now third flute, chugging it quickly while practically marching towards you.

you looked up to see peter bounding towards you, the urgency in his step making your legs go weak. you handed nat her flask back with a deep breath, the girls giving you smirks before turning and leaving you alone. not for long though, as the moment you turned around, you practically bumped your nose against peter's. jesus, when did he get over here so quick?

the proximity forced you to stand taller, willing your shaky knees to cooperate with you and begging yourself to maintain composure.

"hey pete, how's your night going?"

"good, yours?" he tapped his foot anxiously, summoning every ounce of courage he had in his body. he was spider-man, goddammit, he could do this.

"better now," you smiled at him with that devilish look in your eyes that made his summoned bravery obsolete, along with the air in his lungs. back under your trance, his eyes raked down your figure, lingering longer than he meant to at your cleavage. this earned a smirk from you.

"do you want to grab some air? i'm feeling a little… warm."

his eyes widened and he began to nod a little too feverishly, clearing his throat to collect himself. he knew what you meant. he could smell what you meant.

"yeah, y-uh, yeah of course," he breathed out, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the exit of the venue. you gasped as the cool night air hit your body, practically sizzling against your hot skin.

peter looked at you, your hands still intertwined. this was it. he'd been dreaming of a moment like this for longer than he could remember, and it was finally happening. parker, don't fuck this up.

you ran down the stairs, pulling him along behind you. peter had to summon every bit of strength in his body to not stare at the way your chest was moving as you strung him along. he lost the battle, looking down and letting his jaw drop at the sight of your plush skin. he felt his whole body tense, his pants growing painfully tight. his focus was ripped off the view as he heard an "oh god".

he looked up to see happy staring at the two of you, obviously picking up on the vibe. he let out a defeated sigh. "headed back to the compound so soon?"

the two of you blushed, beyond flustered as he let out a stronger sigh.

"jesus fuck, tony's going to kill me. yeah, get in."

peter let out a laugh, pulling you towards the backseat of the car. you both scramble in, panting at the anticipation of the entire situation. he stared at you with wonder in his eyes, slowly leaning over you. okay parker, this is it. just kiss her. holyshitholyshitholyshit ho-

the driver's door slammed shut and happy turned around to look at you. you both whipped your heads in his direction, eyes wide.

"i'm keeping the privacy divider down. i'm not condoning this, i just don't want you driving yourselves. i can fucking smell the alcohol on the two of you. keep it pg back there or i'm calling tony myself."

while the drive itself was less than ten minutes, peter was sure hours had passed by. not being able to touch you was physically painful at this point. the moment he felt the car stop, he was out before he was even certain where he was. he didn't care. he just needed to be alone with you again.

you laughed at how needy peter was being as he practically dragged you from the car, thanking happy for the ride on your way out. he grumbled something about safe sex, driving off and leaving you alone with peter once again. peter turned to you and held out his hand, really really hoping he wasn't either reading this wrong or dreaming.

he pulled you inside and stopped to stare at you again, bringing his hand up to your face. he grazed your cheek slightly and his touch made you feel high.

you bit your lip and he was hard all over again. you weren't able to stay in your trance for long, hearing footsteps down the hall from you. you grabbed him harshly, pulling him to the elevator and pressing the buttons rapidly as you both stifled your laughs, trying to get inside before you were caught by someone. finally, the doors opened, and something in peter snapped.

all the inhibition peter had was gone in an instant, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you backward into the elevator. he pushed your back against the wall with more strength than he intended, panting as the elevator door closed, and his brain was flooded with possibilities. he couldn't help it, he couldn't control himself anymore.

he moved his hands from your shoulders, leaning back to hit your floor number, not once averting eye contact.

he leaned back into you, placing his hands on either side of your head against the elevator wall. he leaned his body ever so slightly against yours, his forehead just grazing your own.

"please tell me i'm not reading this wrong before i really fuck up our friendship."

you smiled at him, your hands snaking up to back of his head and pulling him in eagerly. your lips smashed against his and peter moaned into the kiss, any reservations he had melting away at your touch.

peter reached towards either side of your face, holding you tightly. kissing you was something he only dared to dream of, and now that it was happening, he never wanted it to stop. he kissed you harder, his body pressing even further into yours. he was a moaning mess against your lips, but you weren’t much better. everything about his lips on yours was better than you could’ve hoped for. you tugged at his curls, forcing a groan from him and you used it to your advantage as you slid your tongue into his mouth, exploring freely.

the elevator let out a soft ding!, signaling the door was opening. peter pulled away, much to your dismay, and he stared at you in awe. as sexy as he was trying to be, his heart was absolutely swelling at the thought of him finally getting to kiss you. he couldn’t help but give you a shit-eating grin, hoping it wouldn’t detract from the confidence he hoped he was exuding.

but then you smiled at him, clearly expressing the same feeling, and the rush it gave him darkened his eyes instantly.

peter had a tight grip on your hand as he practically ran with you down the hallways of the complex, reaching his door in record speed. he nearly slammed his way through the wood, pulling you in behind him and shutting the door loudly. he clicked the lock shut and whipped around to face you, back to the wall and out of breath.

he took a moment to just stare at you, still absolutely wonderstruck from your first kiss. it was everything he could have wanted and more, and even now, he could feel his lips tingling from the sensation. he pressed his lips together and took a deep breath, a rush flushing through his system.

he took a step towards you, still hesitant. still unconvinced this wasn't just a dream.

"c-can i, i mean, can... we do that, again?" he let out in nearly a whisper.

you let out an exasperated huff of air in response, his courtesy towards you turning you on even more. you let out a whine, "god, please peter,"

peter didn't wait another second before grabbing the sides of your face and smashing his lips against yours, pulling your body flush to his against the door. his lips were hot on yours, only letting up from their attack for gasps of air, groans escaping from his throat as he kissed you harder than ever thought possible. you ghosted your hands over his chest and he was a moaning mess against you, his hands sliding down to your waist and holding you tight.

the feeling of your body was unimaginable, his hands grazing your curves over the silk draping your body. he was doing his best to keep his hands PG-13, not wanting to lose control and scare you away, but realizing just how thin your dress's fabric was made him ache for more.

he used his back to the door to his advantage, his hands on your waist pulling you even closer — so close that you could feel him hard against your thigh. the thought of you making him this hard elicited a moan to escape from your throat and directly into your kiss, sending a shiver down his spine.

the noises you let out gave him more confidence, allowing his large hands to wander around your sides more. he ran them up and down, spreading his fingers as he did so that each time he trailed up, the tips of his fingers would tease at the underneath of your chest, giving you goosebumps all over your body.

he was keen to the effect on you, smirking into the kiss as he used his thumbpads to lightly trace around the curves of your breasts. it was meant to tease you, however, he regretted the action almost immediately. his movements brought to his attention that not only were you not wearing a bra underneath the dress, but he now knew just how thin the material between him and your tits was. he let out a shaky moan, pained at the thought of your bare chest millimeters away from him. his fingers swiped upward, tracing softly over the outline of your hard nipples, earning a desperate moan from your lips.

and the sound to peter was earth-shattering.

he threw his head back as his fingers continued to graze your chest, relishing in the feeling of you in his hands. this new position grew quickly in your favor, using his exposed neck to press hot, sloppy kisses. he let out a filthy moan, and you reached your hands up to push past his own and take dominance, opening his suit jacket and finding his top button.

you worked them slowly, pulling away from his neck as you both watched your movements, whimpers flowing freely from peter's lips.

"god, (y/n), you have no idea what you're doing to me," he whined, the remnants of a pout traced on his features.

you popped his last button, not wasting a single second to place your hands on his bare chest, lightly tracing your nails up and down his torso.

at this point, peter was fighting for his life. your touch against him ignited his senses, and it felt as though he had electricity coursing through his veins. he's never felt this way before, and he was beginning to feel like he couldn't ever live without it. you were all-consuming to him, and he was losing control.

he grabbed your hips tightly, turning you around and swapping places with you pinned against the door. he kissed you hard, pressing himself against you so that you could feel just how crazy you were driving him. you groaned, allowing your fingers to hook on his belt loops, holding him just close enough to make him ache.

he pulled you back sharply, dragging you to the bed where he promptly sat down, pulling you in between his legs.

his hands rested firmly on your ass, kneading your plush curves through the dress as he pulled you into him and began planting soft kisses against your stomach. you felt his hot breath through the chilly fabric of the silk, goosebumps covering you as tangled your fingers through his lush curls.

"your hair looked so fucking good tonight, pete" you whined out, his kisses growing more sloppy against you as you praised him.

"i love these curls, y'know that? it's been so hard keeping my hands out of your hair, i just, i just want to—"

you tugged harshly, earning a low groan from peter, and he threw his head back, looking up at you with a smirk. the smirk sent more arousal south, and the look in his eyes made you the wettest you're sure you've ever been.

he latched back to your torso, beginning to trail his way down and kiss lower and lower on your stomach. you writhed against him and he took it as encouragement, slowly releasing his hands from your ass and lowering them to the hem of your dress down at your calves. he snaked his hands underneath the material, grazing his fingertips lightly up your bare legs and he hovered his lips over your core, heavily panting over the fabric as his hands reached their destination.

his fingers hooked your thong and you gasped, causing him to look up. he was trying to maintain composure, but he still could not believe he was in this situation. your legs began to tremble, the gratefulness in his eyes shining through and only turning you on more. the reaction he gained from you nearly short-circuited him.

holyshitholyshitholyshit — peter! focus!

he took a deep breath and winked at you, finally diving his head down where he wanted it to begin with. his lips wasted no time attacking your cunt through the silk, his hot breath against your core nearly dropping you to your knees. you let out another gasp as his fingers began to tug your thong down your legs under the dress, so slowly it was tormenting.

once he'd gotten the underwear to your ankles, he focused back on placing a kiss to your core, noticing your growing wetness through your dress with the new lack of garments. he pulled back and let out a breathy chuckle, skimming his fingertips over the forming wet patch on your dress.

"you want this so fucking bad, don't you?"

peter's words mere inches from your cunt caused you to clench around nothing, your entire body hot and needy. you whined a response to him, words already lost as he continued to practically eat you out through your dress.

your daze was quickly cut off, though, as peter pulled away sharply. he stood up to reconnect your lips, and you groaned into him as you could faintly taste yourself on him.

"i, fuck, i-i can't do this,"

you pulled back and stared at him, increasingly growing concerned as to where you started to misread the signals.

"what? i mean, no that's okay, i just—"

"if you don't want to go any further, that's fine. but we have to stop now before i can't control myself anymore."

you don't know if it's the words themselves or the way he said it, but you were throbbing. and by the look on his face, you were sure he knew it too.

a smirk graced his features, and suddenly it was as though all air had been vacuumed from the room.

he took a step closer.

"i mean, honestly. that dress? baby, you've got to be kidding me,"

another step, and his hand was on your neck.

"you like this, don't you?"

a measly whine escaped your throat as you failed to find words. it didn't matter. peters lips were back on yours, heavier and hungrier than they'd been yet that evening. but he wasn't done teasing you yet.

a kiss. "you're fucking impossible,"

another, "to behave around,"

a final, "when all i can do is fucking. smell you."

your eyes matched his darkness as you gasped at his words, his lips sucking the skin on your neck with no forgiveness. "please, i need you."

his hot mouth was attacking yours once again, and through the haze, you heard a faint ripping noise followed by a rush of cold air on your back. peter mumbled an apology and you realized he'd ripped your dress straight down the back.

"fucking zipper,"

his strength surprised you, and peter used your shock to his advantage as he strips you of the remaining fabric, leaving you in just a thong before him.

you grew shy momentarily, your vulnerable state reminding you it was peter you were standing in front of — a dream unfolding, but the implications daunting. you flustered, hands reaching up to cover you body.

peter immediately stepped in, grabbing your hands and pulling them back down to your side.

"baby, don't hide..."

he stood back to admire you fully, slack-jawed and in awe. he pulled you in for a kiss, one much sweeter than the rest. one full of limerence.

"you look like heaven,"

he kissed you again, desperation once again taking the main stage. he brought his hands to your bare breasts, a growl rumbling in his throat as he felt your flesh for the first time. he'd had enough playing around.

"i bet you taste like heaven too."

he pounced on you, pushing you onto the bed and straddling your frame. you used the position to your advantage, reaching down to palm him through his dress pants, and he was hard as a fucking rock.

peter was a moaning mess on top of you, the feeling of your hand on him sending him to another world.

you fumbled around to undo his belt, missing substantially one-handed. he grew impatient, leaving to take his pants off himself and standing before you in just in briefs. it was in this moment you got your first decent look at peter, and it's in this moment you took notice of just how big he was. he was straining in his blue briefs, a wet spot forming where his angry tip wouldn't stop leaking. the sight alone almost made you cum.

he smirked at your reaction and climbed over you again, not bothering to reach your mouth for a kiss this time. instead, he attacked you through your underwear, lips messy around your dripping cunt. he was quick to lose his composure as soon as he could taste you again, tearing the thong down your legs and licking a stripe up your heat.

you writhed underneath him, the heat of his breath on you driving pleasure through your whole body. he continued his work, getting absolutely lost in the way you tasted. with his tongue wrapped around your clit, he slid a hand in between your thighs, fingertips tracing lightly around your slick folds. you let out a pathetic moan and felt peter smile against your cunt, the vibrations from his chuckle sending your senses into overdrive.

he cautiously slipped one finger in, groaning desperately at the feeling of you warm and tight around him. he slid in with ease, your eager cunt ready and welcoming.

he took his time, drawing out your pleasure as he felt you shake underneath him. he added another finger, sensing your orgasm was close.

he increased his pace, fucking you senselessly with his fingers as his tongue attacked your clit, and you were right at the edge. you let out soft pleas, begging him to keep going. he curled his fingers suddenly, and it was enough to have you sent over the edge.

you felt nothing but pure, hot white power coursing through you as peter carried you through your orgasm. you took deep breaths to ground yourself, head still spinning as peter removed his fingers but continued the pace with his mouth. you gained enough consciousness to look down at the man between your legs, and you almost wish you hadn't, the sight bringing you over the edge once more.

between you, peter was eating you out with no care in the world, like a man starved. while doing so, his hips ground mercilessly into the mattress below him. he rutted himself down as his mouth slowed and stalled, his hips following suit as he let out a deep breath and chuckle, making eye contact with you for the first time in a while. his eyes were wide, a smile overpowering his cheeks as though he was a kid trying candy for the first time. the innocence of it all warmed your heart.

there was an emotion in the room neither of you could describe, but you both felt it. and it was strong.

after what felt like a lifetime of lingering, peter flashed you a toothy smile, nothing but love adorning his features. you were both still breathless as he climbed his way back up you, soft kisses planting themselves along your torso as he made his way finally to your lips.

he let out a chuckle, a blush apparent on his cheeks.

"what is it, pete?"

he sat up over you for a second, face bright red as he glanced downwards. you followed his gaze, a blush creeping on your own face as you noticed what he was referring to. the wet spot on his briefs had grown much larger, but he was still hard as ever.

"i um, i-i came as soon as i started cleaning you up. you just tasted so good,"

another wave of slick was sent to your cunt, the thought alone having you ready all over again. you gulped in anticipation and he let his shoulders fall as he noticed he had no reason to be embarrassed.

"spider-man has given me quite the refractory period, though, so,"

he began to pull his briefs down, his achingly hard cock springing free to let out a dirty slap against his stomach. he groaned at the sensation, throwing the garments across the room. "so, if you'll still have me..."

you whined soft pleas and he was on you before you could think about anything else, his kisses still messy on your skin. he hovered over you again, and you felt his cock hot on your stomach. you moaned at the feeling, desperately clenching around nothing as you begged for him to fuck you.

he sat up enough to grab hold of his length, using his burning red tip to slide through your slick folds and spread your wetness. the feeling was too much for you, peter towing a thin line between pleasure and overstimulation. you begged for more still, needing to feel him inside you. he harmonized with your moans as he continued.

"baby, if this is how good you feel on the outside, i've got absolutely no clue how i'm going to last inside of you."

you couldn't find words as he kept going, your nails digging sharply into his back. he smirked at your desperation, lining himself up with your dripping entrance.

“peter, please.”

an anguished sigh raked through his body as he began to push into you. he looked like he was at war with himself, torn between going slow for your comfort and wanting to absolutely ravish your body. though trying to go slow, he slid in with much more ease than he anticipated, growling at the sensation of your walls around him.

holyshitholyshitholyshit

he bottomed out, holding where he was as you both caught your breath. he locked eyes with you, hoping to find and ground you back to the moment. the second he had slid into you, you were washed in a wave of pleasure. meeting peter’s gaze, you held yourself back down on earth best you could.

“baby, you feel fucking sinful.”

clearly, he was not helping. you whined at his praise, feeling his cock twitch deep inside of you as he said it. he was driving you insane.

“pete, please. move.”

he chuckled at you, darkness flooding irises once again. “if you insist,”

he started thrusting into you, his pace steady and relentless. now that he knew this feeling, he was certain your cunt was all he’d ever think about again. he didn't mean to be going as fast as was, but he couldn't help it, the sounds coming from your mouth encouraging him like his own personal symphony. he looked down between the two of you, entranced in the way he was disappearing inside of you. and the noises coming from the two of you down there were downright filthy.

he grew restless, if that was even possible.

"god baby, please, flip over for me,"

"i need to feel more of you."

you started to sit up, gaging your surroundings as you did, but peter wasn’t patient enough for that. he grabbed your hips and flipped you over as though you weighed absolutely nothing. he gave you the generosity of situating yourself, digging your hands into the mattress as you steadied yourself on your knees before him. you stuck yourself out towards him, giving him a full view of everything he’d ever dreamed of. he almost came at the sight.

he lined himself back up and wasted no time, ramming himself into you even deeper than before. your arms trembled, causing you to fall and arch your back even more, a sharp cry escaping your throat as peter fucked you with no forgiveness.

he used one hand to steady himself on your hips, the other snaking its way around you to latch his fingers on your abused clit. another cry fell from your lips, tears pricking your eyes as you praised him.

“fuck, you feel so good inside of me, peter,”

your core was burning, build-up from a third orgasm igniting a fire in you as you tried to hold on.

"peter please, holy shit i'm going to cum, i can't— i can't hold it any longer."

peter felt you clenching around him hard, your pulse on his cock driving him to closer to the edge and much quicker than he'd hoped. a growl escaped from deep in his throat. "(y/n), i— fuck, i need to switch out. if— mm'ugh, shit,"

his hips didn't match the words he spoke, the merciless pace making your vision fade around the edges.

"fuck, no, i-i'm serious, i need— ah, fuck— my f-fingers. please. if i feel you finish around my cock, i-i'm not going to able to pull out in time."

the thought alone almost drove you off the edge.

"do it." you panted, pushing your hips further back to meet his thrusts.

"no, (y/n), i'm serious."

"no please, peter, stay,"

"please, i need you, i... i need to feel you finish inside of me."

and who was peter to deny you of something you needed?

"fuck it,"

he grabbed onto your hips and started fucking you with such force, you were positive you wouldn't be able to walk out of this room when he was done.

and that's when he felt it. he felt you snap and cum around his cock. the feeling was better than anything he'd ever imagined, a heaven he didn't know could possibly exist. it made him cum in an instant. he'd never felt such an amazing sensation before and holy shit he could stay here forever.

he came hard, holding your hips tight as spurt after spurt of the hot, thick ropes of his cum flooded inside of you. the feeling was indescribable, his cum filling you to the brink and then some. the sensation of his cock twitching in you was overwhelming, your insides hot and full. he pulled out, watching his cum drip out of your abused cunt with a glimmer in his eyes.

you collapsed from under him and peter followed, nearly falling on top of you from exhaustion. you both laid together, breathless as you tried to regain your composure.

"holy shit, that was—"

"—crazy,"

laughter filled the air around you, a comforting blanket that made your heart warm.

a beat of silence passed and you both sat and smiled at each other, almost in an air of reverence. he grabbed your hands in his and got quiet, a sheepish look overtaking his features. as if he hadn't just fucked you senseless.

"(y/n), i-i wanted to tell you that i really like you. like, really, really like you"

you give him a smirk.

sex pollen with peter parker x fem!reader

wc: 4.5k

cw: MDNI!! dubcon (bc there's an aphrodisiac involved), oral (f!receiving), fingering, lots of dirty talk, unprotected p in v, mating press, creampie, multiple orgasms, friends to lovers!!, HUNGRY peter

masterlist, taglist, and kinktober 2025 masterlist!

you weren't sure when it became a habit to sneak into the chemistry building after hours with peter to help him work on his web fluid; all you knew was it was your turn to pay for the pizza.

it was nearing midnight as your full belly laughs echoed through the empty lab, crusts long forgotten on the table behind you, as you lost yourself in a story. peter's smile was visible through prickling tears.

he knew it was a bad idea to invite you from the start — there was no shot in hell he'd get any work done as long as you were around him. peter had figured that out by the senior year of high school: he just couldn't seem to focus on anything other than you. he began to lie and say he was finished with his homework whenever you would hang out, covering his lack of progress in your presence.

peter had been distracted by you for the last few years, yet he could never seem to resist your company anyway. he beamed as you laughed at your own joke, relishing in the alone time he got to spend with the one person who made him feel like himself.

you let out a snort, and peter was done for, tears in his own eyes as he joined you in hearty laughter. he reached down and grabbed a vial through blurry vision, adding the final touch to his web fluid 3.0.

except that, instead of a sticky web-like substance, peter was met with a bright flash of hot pink from the liquid in the beaker before a cloud of magenta powder exploded from the glass, dusting the room, and in turn, you and peter.

he was on you instantly, shielding you from the flying shards of glass before the beaker even burst, though the aerosol impact was inevitable. the reaction was quick to hit your lungs, dragging out hoarse coughs, rough and heavy in your chest as you fought to regain a sense of your surroundings.

the headache was almost immediate as peter leaned down to say something, and you winced as you looked up at him.

"what?"

"are you okay? did you get cut at all?" peter frantically examined for any tears in your sweatshirt, checking your hands for any possible nicks.

"i'm okay, rea—woah," peter placed a hand on your jaw to inspect your face, and the touch activated something deep inside of you.

suddenly, you felt the hottest you'd ever been, and the headrush made you weak in the knees. your vision began to cloud, senses on overdrive as you felt an aching pain rising in your chest. meeting peter's gaze with panicked eyes, you began to really take in the state of the situation.

"peter, what did you just mix?"

"i-i don't know, i must've grabbed the wrong thing..." he trailed off as he turned to search through the drawers, but the movement stopped him dead in his tracks.

peter was instantly met with a rush of vertigo, the room spinning violently around him as he braced himself on the countertop. he felt like he did when he was first bitten: hypersensitive and overwhelmed. fuck, what did he mix?

amidst the rest of the world in his ears, peter picked up on the sound of your heartbeat and immediately knew something was wrong. really wrong. he took a moment to analyze you, everything moving in slow motion as he fought to figure out what the hell he mixed together, and where these symptoms were headed.

your current state didn't give him much comfort; peter quickly noticed how you were starting to sweat, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath, despite not having left your chair. your full-body flush made him wonder if he looked just as disheveled.

"are you feeling okay?" peter asked, heavy with concern and guilt.

you shook your head at him, words fighting to escape your trembling lips. "i-i don't know. i feel... warm. i don't know."

and then peter felt it. his cock twitched, and he realized for the first time how painfully hard he was. he looked down in horror, hoping you hadn't yet noticed in your own haze. peter quickly sat down again to cover the evidence, praying to any god who was listening that this wasn't happening.

while successful in his concealment, the slight friction in the movement of his pants was enough to elicit a groan from his throat; he hoped you didn't hear.

but you did. because each little noise he made, conscious or not, egged on every dirty fucking thought you were having right now. and about peter. in front of peter.

"maybe we should get some... some fresh air, or something," peter says weakly.

as you nodded in response and moved to get up, it became horribly apparent to peter that he had to stand up with you, and not only would you also know just how hard he was, but the friction alone might be enough to kill him.

and then he had a thought:

are you feeling this way too?

no, don't think like that. that's your best friend, and whatever's happening, clearly neither of you was in your right mind.

but peter had always felt this way about you. this time, it was just so physically painful for some reason. what the fuck was in that beaker?

he didn't have any more time for his mind to race, as you stood from your stool and he watched your knees buckle underneath you. peter rushed to stabilize you, grabbing your shoulders and keeping you steady. it was pointless, though. somehow, the feeling of peter's hand against you knocked your breath out, far worse than falling ever would've.

you had no idea what was going on, but it was getting harder and harder to think about anything other than peter (as if that wasn't the norm anyway, bffr). but this was heightened. this was all of your wildest desires pulled to the forefront of your mind in the middle of your ochem 403 lab at 11pm on a tuesday night.

what the fuck was going on with you?

you tried to shake off the way peter's touch relieved some of the haze clouding your brain, and tried to shake off the feeling that maybe he was also feeling this way. your thighs clenched at the thought — that peter was also thinking of every possible way to take you on this counter right now.

but this was your best friend, and you needed to get your shit together long enough to handle whatever this feeling was on your own.

"woah, are y'okay?" peter slurred, your body heat under his palms radiating down to the rest of his body and nearly sending him down as well.

"i... i don't know, i think..." you stuttered out, not trusting anything coming from your mouth right now. "i-i think i have to go, i'm, i'm not feeling well."

you turned to make a run for it, hoping to get out of peter's sight before you either passed out or pounced on him. he stopped you, though, grabbing your hand with a pleading "wait!" falling from his lips.

before you could stop it, a whimper escaped from your lips at his touch, and you went bright red in seconds, hand flying up to cover the unexpected noise.

peter didn't help as he stared at you with his mouth agape, pupils blown to shit. he looked fucked out beyond belief and you'd barely even touched.

you cleared your throat, hoping to get out as coherent and PG a sentence as you could. "peter i-i feel really weird. a-and, i think i'm freaking the fuck out."

knowing you were hurting as much as he was broke his heart, and peter struggled to put all his energy into focusing on you. "i know, it's okay, bug. just take some deep breaths, a-and let's try to make it outside, yeah?"

he tried to pull you, but your legs forgot how to work, and you were frozen where you were, breath quick as everything grew downright painful.

peter's breathing picked up as he heard you hyperventilating, panicking himself as he watched you crumble in front of you. he needed to find out what was in that vile, and fast.

but all he could fucking think about was being on his knees in between your thighs.

fuck.

"p-peter, please. please, i-i, i need your help. you have to make this stop."

"fuck— it'll be okay, i promise. i'll do whatever i need to get you better. i-i just..." he clamped his eyes shut, desperately trying to come up with a way to make an antidote of some kind without dying or ruining your friendship along the way.

"peter... i—"

"what?" he cut you off, concern heavy in his tone.

despite his ever-growing problem, peter reached out to cup your cheek, and though not an unnatural thing to do, it was one definitely influenced by a gravity drawing him towards the feeling of your skin on his.

you stared at his lust-blown eyes, wondering if yours looked the same. wondering if he felt the same.

peter spoke your name softly, his thumb grazing your cheek softly and lingering far too closely to your lips to not mean anything.

fuck it.

you grabbed his shirt and pulled him forward, nearly headbutting him in the process as you locked onto his lips, surprised when you felt him immediately reciprocate and tangle his hands in your hair. everything about the kiss was desperate, and the feeling of peter all over you was fucking radiant.

peter was nothing but a moaning mess against you, sloppy and wet against your lips as he pleaded your name as though each time he said it, it took away the pain in his chest. truthfully, it did.

peter pulled away to take a breath, and the lack of contact brought the sharp pain immediately back, earning a whine to fall from his lips. he shook it off, grabbing the sides of your face and doing his best to refocus.

"f-fuck, should we talk about this?" peter asked relectantly.

"i-i don't know. i don't know what's happening right now, pete. all i know is that i need you to touch me. anything, please. i'm sorry. just, please make it go away."

yeah, you could talk about it later.

"nonono, hey. im so sorry, baby, this is all my fault. i'll do whatever you need, i mean it. i'll make it better, i promise."

peter pulled you back into a hungry kiss, rough hands roaming your body in a way he'd never touched you before. the feeling of your curves under his palms was only something he'd dreamed of, and peter was insufferably hard as he pulled you into him further.

there was a nag in the back of his mind, something telling him to stop before you did something you'd regret. because there was no possible way he had you, his best friend, tangled in his arms and lips heavy on his own. and yeah, peter had been smitten with you since the day you met, but he was never going to do anything about it. you didn't feel that way about him, of course. right?

cause right now, you kinda did.

no! fuck! just the chemicals! this was a one-time thing, friends helping friends.

yeah, friends helping friends.

but the pretty little moans that came out of your mouth as peter trailed his way down your neck? those sounded awfully more than just friendly. and the way you whined as he moved his hands up your waist, palming your tits through your shirt as he growled for permission in your ear? peter was never going to be able to look you in the eyes after tonight.

but right now, he was entranced as you bunched his shirt fabric in your hands and begged for it off, pulling the material over his head and immediately attacking his firm chest with a series of hickeys. you shifted your hands down towards his waistband, tugging him by his belt loops as you left a wet, hot trail of kisses down his abs. peter couldn't help but cant his hips forward into you, absolutely fucking losing his mind.

his own hands made their way around your frame, trailing down to your ass and grabbing hard. you gasped at the feeling, then lost your breath fully as peter nipped at your ear and told you to jump. he caught your thighs, shifting to set you on the lab counter and wedging his body between your legs.

everything was hot and heavy, and the effects were evolving and worsening. it was growing stronger with each touch, and though feeling each other was helping ease the pain, the need for more was growing too strong to ignore.

you pulled away from him, tears threatening to spill from your doe eyes as you stared up at peter, who didn't look much better.

"what? what is it, what do you need, baby?"

"i-i... i need you to touch me, pete."

peter went pale at your confession. it was asked so quietly, but it held so much weight. weight he'd think about after he got to find out what you tasted like.

with a deep rumble in his chest and another sloppy kiss to your neck, peter began to fumble his way around your waistband, asking you a thousand extra times if this was okay.

yeah, i fucking think so.

peter's index fingers hooked the hips of your pants; feeling his hands on your bare skin for the first time covered you in goosebumps. it was numbing the pain in your chest and igniting something in it all the same. you were so caught up in the moment, gobsmacked over peter parker, your best friend of six years, tugging your pants down, that you almost didn't notice that he'd pulled them back up.

your cheeks instantly bloomed in mortification. "fuck, i-im sorry, i-i don't know what's come over me—"

"no! stop apologizing, please. i just..." peter took a dramatic pause, and the only thing that could be heard was the two of you heavily panting, taking in the scene unfolding before you as the pain hammered in each of your chests.

"i need to tell you something before anything else happens."

you gave him a worried look, and peter returned it with a heavy sigh.

"i don't know what the fuck is happening right now, and why i feel like im fucking going to die if you don't touch me right now, and this is all my fault and i'm so fucking sorry—"

"peter. what's wrong?"

well, we're already in this deep.

"i don't know what fuck-ass aphrodiasic i just created, but i need you to know that the real me means this too. i can't let anything happen without you knowing that i love you, and this still means something to me. even if i'm not myself right now. a-and i'll do whatever you need me to do, and we can never talk about this again, but you don't deserve me keeping that from you."

you sat on the counter, stunned, as peter anxiously bit his lip, worried he'd just fucked up one of the best relationships that had ever happened to him. and he was still so fucking hard.

the only response you gave him was hopping off the counter and taking your bottoms off for him.

and peter was immediately on you again.

he had a hand rough in your hair as he kissed you, his other firm on your bare ass as he kneaded the soft flesh with a hunger. through his moans and downright whines, he almost missed it:

"i love you too, peter. so fucking much."

something inside of him snapped, and this time he didn't even ask you to jump, wrapping his hands around your waist and lifting you to the counter like you weighed nothing. you wrapped your legs around his hips and pulled him close, the make-out nothing short of a frenzy.

the entire time, peter was in your ear, moaning things into your mouth you only ever dreamed you'd hear:

"this. this isn't how this was supposed to happen."

"you deserve better than this, fuck. deserve better than an empty fucking chem lab, christ's sake."

he was quick to get his hands back on you, traces of mischief left behind as he massaged your thighs and stared at your lace thong with a look you'd never seen from him before. peter had been so caught up in it all, he'd almost forgotten the effects of the reaction. his actions were genuine and intentional. but as he pulled back to get a proper look at you, the pain in his chest settled back in, and his senses reheightened to a million

"fuck, i need to touch you. please, can i touch you?" peter whined.

you were breathless in response, "please peter, do whatever the fuck you want to me. just please, do something. anything."

he groaned and ran his hands up your thighs till he reached the delicate lace, teasingly tracing the hemline. "don't fucking say that. i-i don't think i can control myself right now."

"pete, i don't want you to control yourself," a shudder ran down his spine.

"please. fuck me."

peter didn't have the energy left in him to delay this any longer.

he ripped the underwear clean from your body, pulling you to the edge of the counter and dropping to his knees in front of you. he wasted no time running his tongue through your glossy folds, latching his lips over your clit.

peter was so hungry, and the mixture of the fading pain in your chest and the pleasure blooming inside of you was an insane feeling. he added a finger? oh my god. you were fucking incoherent. he added another? you were pretty sure this rivaled the time you tried molly.

you pulled at his hair, begging him (to stop or to go harder, you didn't know). it was all so overwhelming, and every time you looked down to see the source of your pleasure and remembered it was your peter parker? you were close to the edge the quickest you'd ever been.

"pete, i-i..."

"what is it, baby?" he breathed, quickly returning to your dripping cunt.

baby. jesus fucking christ. that almost did you in right then and there.

"i wanna touch you too."

peter groaned deep inside you in response, and the vibration was enough to send you over the edge. you felt your body fly over the moon as you came, peter not letting down for a second as he fucked you with his tongue so you could ride out the high, lapping up every drop you gave him.

he stood up, breathless, glistening, and a little cocky if you knew peter the way you thought you did. "how are you feeling? did that help, d-does it still hurt?"

you were panting as you came down from your high, taking a second to be aware of your body and headspace again. you couldn't help but feel emotional as you noticed the effects starting to creep back in. you shed a tear and nodded as you felt the headache thundering in the distance.

peter pulled you into a hug, and it was almost enough to sober you up again, because something about this one felt different. more weighted.

"im sorry, baby, fuck. i-i'm sorry, what can i do? how can i help?" fuck, this was all his fault.

you sniffled in his ear, but the movement of your hips against his contradicted your melancholy demeanor. "it's better when you're touching me. please, just don't stop."

between your words and you snaking your hand down to palm him softly, peter parker was a wreck, and wrapped around your finger.

he was quick to envelop you in a kiss and drink you in, and you moved to claw his shirt off of him. you pulled back to look at him, and it wasn't like you hadn't seen peter shirtless over the years, but you'd never seen him this close, in this context. it made your chest hurt in a different way.

"fuck, you're so hot," you groaned, almost as though an inside thought had slipped out.

he snickered. "me? are you kidding me right now?"

peter roughly kissed you before tugging your shirt off, absolutely elated at the discovery you'd forgone a bra under your crewneck. he stared at you like a deer in headlights, starstruck as he saw you for the first time.

"jesus christ, you're a fucking dream."

his hands were on your tits before you could even register it, but the feeling only made you crave him more. you messed with his pants, and he took over amidst your frustration. boxers and all, he sprang free in front of you, and Holy Shit Peter Parker. that's fucking obscene.

"this is your last chance to change your mind. because once i start, i dont think i'll be able to stop," he warned.

"please fuck me, peter."

he attacked your chest with his lips, hands firm on your hips as he shifted you again to the edge of the counter. you wrapped your soft fingers around his leaking cock, and he was almost done for before you'd even started.

peter moaned loudly and moved to put his large hand over yours to line himself up. you were still soaked from peter's previous meal, making it easy for him to slide his head through your slit. you were a begging mess in his ear, nails scraping down his back in anticipation.

peter nudged your entrance and pushed in easily (whether from the pollen or his ample prep, no one knows). the two of you moaned in filthy harmony, the feeling a definition beyond indescribable.

his legs were shaking immediately, and despite his inhuman strength, it became apparent that he couldn't do this standing for much longer if you felt this good.

"fuck, sweetheart," peter grabbed you roughly and pulled you towards him, pushing to the hilt and pressing hip to hip with you. he picked you up, spun you around, and laid you on the cool tile

"this isn't what you deserve, fucking you on the ground like this. fuck, baby."

and then peter was relentless.

he pounded into you with such a force, his mouth still focused on your tits and how they bounced for him. both of you could breathe again, the pain lifting and now replaced with a newly discovered pleasure that made you emotional again. you looked completely fucked out, tears streaming down your cheeks as peter lifted your thighs higher to get as deep in you as possible.

"fuck, please don't cry," he begged, though he kept drilling into you, knees now meeting your own chest. "i'm sorry, i'm so sorry."

you pulled him down, his chest pressing against the back of your thighs, and your foreheads connected as you breathed him in, exhaling a rough "i love you so much, peter".

he stuttered for a moment, eyes as wide as they were the first time he heard you say it. not for long, though, as he stayed pressed against you and picked up the pace like never before.

"oh my god, i fucking love you."

peter had you seeing stars, and you didn't know how long you'd even been in the lab. five minutes could have passed, maybe three hours. all you knew was that you didn't care, and you were close. peter knew it too.

"babe-baby, you're close. i-i can feel it, you're so fucking tight around my cock." you couldn't help but clench him in response.

"fuck, yeah-y-yes. god, squeezing me so good. god, i knew you were made for me."

it was the sentimentality of everything that sent you over this time. hearing the way he talked about you, you came around his cock, and it felt so fucking magical. but peter didn't slow down, determined to ride out your orgasm. he was quickly losing his composure, though, at the feeling of you fluttering around his cock.

"sweetheart, w-where—"

"inside, please."

peter didn't even have time to question the outcomes to his actions because the second he heard you, his best fucking friend, moaning for him to cum inside of her? oh fucking hell.

he let out such a guttural moan as he came, hot and thick, deep inside of you. you felt so warm and full, so much so that it triggered a third orgasm, sobbing peter's name as he just kept going. mixed arousal spilled down your thighs as he continued to fuck you, and through your fucked out haze, you could feel his cum drip down and pool around your ass.

you were barely conscious at this point, but peter kept going as he muttered "i'm sorry" over and over again.

luckily, he'd released the goddamn mating press and released your legs, allowing you to stretch out. peter was able to cover more of your body with his, lying chest to chest with you as his hips rutted into yours. the new position was so much more intimate as he leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss again.

"please. please, just one more. one more and i'll stop."

peter said that three more times that evening before he was done, and he felt like himself again.

he looked down at you in awe, though concern slipped through his fucked out eyes. "you okay, bug?"

"i can't believe you really just gassed us with an aphrodisiac."

peter laughed, a blush creeping on his cheeks at the memory of his fatal mistake. "yeah, that was, uh... that was my bad."

a moment of silence.

"...any chance you wrote it down?"

tags!

A QUICK FIX. 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃

‎✧˚₊‧ down bad! peter parker who fucks like he’s mindless !

it’s not like he’s touch starved for any sort of real connection; everyone who he loves doesn’t know who he is, he doesn’t have anyone to go home to besides that red and blue stupid spider-man suit that mocks him from the hanger. he watches the news as people cheer for him but no one wants him.

truly wants him. peter parker, not spider-man.

peter parker is a man who is starved of touch. he can live with no connection— it was just him and his aunt for many years… but the feeling of another person’s hands on him that wasn’t some goon in manhattan trying to put him to early retirement… it was foreign to him.

it’s been four years since mj, and he hasn’t felt anything on his body… except now, his breaking point.

youre not quite sure how you ended up in his vicinity anyway, but you did. you were simply in professor banners class when he came running in at the last minute, completely sloppy looking and out of his mind to talk to the professor. you stayed back to watch him ramble to him, seeing how disgruntled he looked, the bruises on his jaw and his forearm peaking out under the empire state hoodie.

when he left, you left, and you asked for his number.

that’s how you ended up here; in his messy bed, his cock thrusting in and out of you like a piston. he’s rough with his thrusts but gentle with his hands, like his fingers are trying to mark every single inch of your body, his lips haven’t left your neck since he’s thrusted.

“o-oh god baby.” he whispers, voice cracking under the pressure of your pussy clenching down on him. your nails rake down his biceps,

you moan around him, listening to his chorus of whimpers and pleads as the wet sound of his cock forcing its way into your puffy folds fills his mundane apartment bedroom. “f-fuck peter! keep going! oh fuck!”

the apartment walls in this place may not be the thickest, but peter’s cock is, so you don’t care that your moans could probably be heard from top floor to basement.

he moans when your fingers create more markings into his body, his senses going haywire with each stroke of his dick. “feels good baby? pussy needing me s’so much, don’t you?” he whispers, sucking on his right thumb before bringing it down to your clit, rubbing tight circles on it. “never letting you go, swear to god, fucking christ…”

each one of his thrusts picks up with the speed and velocity only a man like peter parker could display. you couldn't describe it but you felt so full but so good at the time time. your eyes rolled back as he kisses your cheek, feeling his balls slap against your clit.

he kept thrusting like he had something to lose; his hands touched you like he was trying to keep a reminder to himself what a female body felt like, what another human's body felt like under his own callous palms.

he's never felt like this in four years, and now, he's a selfish man and who could blame him?

peter was a man suffering in silence, currently thrusting into you like he was personally trying to break your cervix— and you didn't mind it, feeling like heaven itself as his forearms cage your head, kissing your face even as the tears flow from overstimulation, his mouth catching each one.

he brings you closer and closer, groaning deep into your ear as you tighten around him. the bed was louder than you at some points but you didn't even try to be quiet.

if anyone truly knew what peter parker was suffering with for four years... they'd understand why he fucks like this. why he fucks like it's his last day on earth. why his cock ruins you like it's never done before... and you didn't quite understand the full extent of it...

you just understood peter parker making you cum, and feeling ropes of his hot and heavy cum filling your pussy.

and in the same night? he tucks you in and sneaks out the fire escape, because peter parker only gets temporary joy when the city needs spiderman all the time.

click here for main masterlist! 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃

AUTHOR'S NOTE: god, brand new day is gonna eat so hard. ive never written for peter, but he was so fucking fine in that trailer, so why not write for him. sadie, tom, and zendaya in the same movie + promotion is gonna be so funnnnn, I can’t fucking wait. I do not care; i will somehow get a sadie hot ones episode as well as a sadie vs tom hot ones episode because I said so.

thank you for all the support in every way possible! all support is very much appreciated! all content created on this blog is mine, do not copy or sent it through ai!

pairing: peter parker x fem!reader

word count: ~3.2k

warnings: drinking, smut

summary: during a summerween party in betty's peculiarly dank basement, flash calls for a round of two party games: spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven. then, when the bottle lands on you, you only hope for one thing---to suppress the crush you had on peter parker in high school.

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-

From under these peculiarly fluorescent party lights, Peter Parker nervously idled from foot-to-foot as he clutched the sides of a juicy, supple watermelon—that of which spilled watermelon seeds and pulp over the sides of it as some girl - also dressed up as a watermelon - inspected its gutted insides. 

“We can only carve them if they’re new,” she commented cooly. 

“I bought it this morning, Betty,” Peter said. As he spoke, his lips trembled. 

“From where? Wal-Mart?” 

“Hey, I didn’t know this party had a budget.” 

Betty laughed. “I’m playing with you. Need a napkin?” 

Peter sighed and shook his head as Betty turned on her heel, darting towards the spoke of paper towels she could not seem to grasp, as she was drunkenly spinning the wheel it was mounted on. She quickly ran back towards him and began to pat down his jeans. 

MJ snorted and sipped her drink, musing, “How many shots do you think she’s had?” 

“Not enough,” you said, watching Betty not-so-subtly attempt to feel Peter up. The only reaction he gave her was pity as he hitched the watermelon onto his hip. 

— love island season is back and so am i.

it’s one of those days in the villa where there’s nothing to do. just the beaming hot sun and attractive people all under one building… if anything, you mostly enjoy watching production behind the scenes. fixing cameras, changing lenses and one of your girls getting her mic fixed in the corner.

some of the boys are playing with the gym equipment, the girls standing in the pools chatting. a few couples have gone off to chat and so have you.

you sit cross legged on the day bed, opposite possibly one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen in real life. is it normal to meet someone and immediately want to jump them? to wonder how their lips would feel against yours and their hard toned chest against your softer one.

he lays beside you, thick bicep propping his head up on the pillow so he can see you properly. you recoupled with katsuki last night, drawn in by his pretty red eyes and the few flirtatious conversations you had previously. well mostly the blunt compliments and slight nervousness from him, that easily got you giddy and running your finger down his arm. you want to know more, you especially want to know if he’s boyfriend material.

AFTER THE BEEF

cw: this is so nom nom nom to me. my biggest issue as a writer is i love grovelling and writing arguments but i never know what the arguments should be about that doesn’t make it DETRIMENTAL!!! but love island eeeekkk we can do a few things. this is written as a long drabble L

i’m thinking maybe in the newest season… the boys go off out the villa and bkg is chosen to go on a date with a new bombshell. what he doesn’t realise is the date is being live-streamed back to you and the girls in the villa.

you’ve been in your couple for maybe two weeks now, going great going strong and you like him more than you can explain. katsuki’s funny without meaning to, he can flirt in a way that makes your heart race, he’s so perspective to your needs and he’s incredibly attractive. one look at him and you’re already crawling into his lap. with how much you feel for him so quickly, you think he feels the same but really, this is where you find that all out.

you’re looking pretty in the evening, sitting in a bean bag surrounded by your girls. your bestie, momo is holding your hand, your other friend, mina is laying her head on your shoulder.

you can barely breathe watching the new bombshell sitting at the table waiting for your lover to appear.

“she looks like me. doesn’t she look like me?” you warble, clenching your toes in your heels, “he’s definitely going to like her!”

all the girls hum in disagreement, though you don’t miss a few comments.

“she does… oddly alike.”

“she doesn’t! her hair is so much shorter and i bet she won’t sound anything about you. katsuki worships the ground you walk on. you’ll be okay, girl.”

you feel like you’re going to be sick.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZNRTw138W/

link

i do not have tiktok on my phone so only SOMETIMES my browser allows me to watch videos lol that’s the first usa clip i’ve seen in a few years AND THE WAY USA GETS BUDGET like that villa is bright! also the way everyone is fine as hellllllll. also that challenge lol so much more frisky that what uk has. what am i answering here!!????

bakugou meets you in casa im thinking. he gets lick and starts licking you down. down your neck, even throws in some kisses because he wants to on your mouth. and he even takes the time to quickly ask, “this okay? this okay?”

then he picks you up and puts you on your back on the ground. you say “yes yes yes!!!!” and his speed returns and he shoves up your dress and takes off your shoes so he can lick your feet and up your legs right up to your hips. you’re all giggly and yes, wet. even flips you around and licks your ass cheeks.

everyone on the sofa is GASPING!!!!!! nobody has seen bakugou be so into someone like this, like this is even more than just the challenge. he wouldn’t go this hard if he wasn’t into you even if he is competitive lol and he gets between your legs and you’re like “oh my god!!!!” and he flicks his eyes up to you and you’re melting.

“shit!! go on kacchan!!!!!!!”

“more more more!!” when there’s nothing more he can do unless he eats you out then and there.

anyways this is all i have!! hope you enjoyed and i would love to hear what you think - love from another black brit that is GAGGING to be friends with you and tteokdoroki 😔😔😔

okay now this!!!!!! if i were to do a whole new updated love island au this enemies to lovers route is what i’d wanna go down. sooo tasty. like i wanna make drabble after drabble big ass series from this one. i had to save this for when i had time. also i screenshotted the end and sent it to tteok!

you and bkg both being ogs too. him doing your friend dirty but really it was just that she liked him a lot and was trying really hard with him and he wasn’t into her. i imagine bkg saying “erm,, fuck. maybe let’s take it slow?” which is mad for your friend because people are already making out on the second day with their couples and he’s barely touched her. i think it’s very clear to viewers at home as well that he’s just notttt into her.

and then you with your couple. i think maybe you and your guy just work better as friends. he does like you but your personalities don’t mesh well in a couple. you’ve kissed a few times. once out a challenge but that’s it.

till the big blow up with bkg and his girl. she gets upset, crying to all the girls about “he just doesn’t like me. i don’t know what to do!! i see everyone else getting on and not us. it feels like he hasn’t even tried!” from then on you’re just put off by bkg. he’s always blunt, harsh. he doesn’t smile much and is always frowning at something. he made your friend cry and you don’t understand why he’d go on this show if he’s not TRYING. just wasting a spot for another guy.

so you and him are kinda passive aggressive. 100% from your side. he never is to you. if anything, he hardly speaks to you besides from offering if you want some of his breakfast, if you’re both in the kitchen and he’s refilling his bottle he’ll ask if yours is empty. he’ll tell you if there’s something on your face, or if your bikini string is loose. to YOU this is nothing much. but he’s always watching and paying attention to you. he never pulls you for a chat and neither you him.

when he made your friend cry that evening, you walk past him in your pyjamas rolling your eyes. he notices, blurting a loud, “hah? what?” and you go, “just because you don’t like a girl, it doesn’t mean you have to be unkind!” and honestly you’re in the wrong here, the public things you’re in the wrong here and bakugou is confused because it’s not his fault he’s not into her. he does like that you’re sticking up for your friend though. he says nothing to that. just watches you walk away. AND THAT is when the public sees it. that bakugou likes YOU. he keeps his eyes on you walking away. he smirks a little and then rubs his face with his palm to fix up before going into the bathroom to wash up.

then it’s a truth or dare challenge around the firepit. bakugou grabbing a dare and it says “kiss one islander, outside of your couple, that you find most attractive.”

and he immediately looks up and over at you.

all the islanders are shocked. jaw dropped. the guys, who bakugou is actually quite close to, didn’t even know about this.

“since when?”

“yn?”

“really?”

“this is a sticky one.”

he walks over to you, grabs your hand to pull you up.

so politely but rough in tone, he asks, “can i?”

and you’re flustered, not expecting this at all and he’s up close. towering over you. “yes.”

you and bkg have your first kiss. first makeout. first tongue in his mouth as he sucks and bites your bottom lip.

another challenge and its fill in the blanks. momo holds up a board and reads from it.

“it reads, ‘i have never been with a blonde but damn BLANK can get it. otherwise he’s my type.’”

and the villa is guessing who said it. what’s worse is that everyone thinks it’s your friend because she’s been so upfront about her like for bkg.

until momo rips off the blank, obviously revealing katsuki and then “said by YN.”

gasps. “really? yn? it was just a joke! he’s attractive! we all know that.”

you lock eyes with bkg across the sofa who’s silent, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed. his stare gets you hot, has you glancing away with embarrassment in your eyes. you also don’t miss the confused look your friend gives you. “just a joke.” you mumble to her.

then that changes things completely between you both. public at home are questioning whether you’re loyal to your friend if you’re going after the man she likes. some islanders think this too! then the public says that you should just go for it with bkg because you clearly both like each other.

the kiss and your admission leads to you both being somewhat secretive. you’re playing hard to get because you feel like you shouldn’t like him and you genuinely feel bad. then bkg is giving you a completely new side. where he’s sweet, funny and honest. still swears but clear with his compliments. if your clothing isn’t situated right he’s privately helping you fix it. it’s all so acts of service. secret sneaky link relationship or you both sneaking away to talk. on the terrace, in the hallway, by the stairs, in the bathroom, in the mornings. flirty conversations and deep ones.

you going, “i really wanna kiss you but i don’t want to hurt anybody.”

hand on his jaw, leg over his. he looks like a puppy dog. staring at your lips, biting down on his.

“isn’t that the point of this fuckin’ game. we aren’t datin’ anyone.”

“but she’s my friend. she likes you.”

you don’t end up kissing. he likes your loyalty.

having beds side by side in your couples. both of you looking at each other in your separate beds. you waving at him in the dark while he nods. when you think everyone’s asleep, you reach for his hand and he grabs yours.

i think the public are rooting for you both at this point. wanting you to just give in. apologise to your friend afterwards. it’s not friend island!!

then bakugou makes it more obvious talking to all his buddies. when they ask if he’s got his eyes on anyone he point blank says, “yn.” he makes you a coffee/tea/matcha in the morning. compliments you before the guy in your couple can. he always reassures you it’s okay because it’s him perusing you! you’re not doing anything wrong.

and with bakugou it’s so easy. easy chat, easy flirt, easy to look at. he pulls you for your first public chat after secretly chatting for the last few days.

sitting alone at the firepit with him.

“i’ve been tellin’ the guys that i wanna get to know you properly.”

your body heats. you bite down on your lip. he’s got sunglasses on, these thick black ones, a gold chain and navy swim shorts.

“i already told you how i feel. i can’t… i don’t wanna hurt her. she really likes you and you hurt her.”

bakugou sighs, “there’s no way i couldn’t have not hurt her. if i didnt like her back. i didn’t wanna force it.”

“but you didn’t even give her a chance!”

“‘cause i know what i want.”

you look at him, he looks at you.

“me? from when?”

“since we came in this place. ‘been watchin’ you from the beginnin’ didn’t know how to get to you.”

and that’s when you realise all the little things he did for you at the beginning.

you pout, moaning out, “oh katsuki. this is so fucked up.”

then your guy you coupled up with. “do you like your guy? doesn’t look like it.”

that makes you laugh, slapping his arm, “shut up. i do. i mean, he’s okay.”

“but you like me more. even if i am blonde.”

it’s been tiring caring for everyone’s emotions. not focusing on yourself and being a little selfish. you decide to take a page out of bakugou’s book and just be honest.

“i do. i do like you more.”

bakugou grins, all teeth showing. “i fuckin’ like the sound of that.”

you want to kiss him, share a bed with him. you wanna be able to talk to him without all this guilt in the pit of your stomach.

“i have to talk to her and him. i’ve got a whole lot more to lose here than you do,” then you wag your finger at him though your voice is completely serious, “you better be worth it katsuki.”

“i’d treat you like a princess. my one and only priority.”

he says it so earnestly, looking you deep in your eyes that you have to stand up. flicking his forehead.

“chat later. bye for now.”

you’ve told the girls katsuki does. especially when he wears his glasses at bedtime, climbing into his bed with another girl across the room. your heart races when he looks at you from his bed, staring at you like he’s trying to tell you he’d rather be with you right now.

in the mornings, he’s always up at the same time as you. grumpily trodding out the bathroom, rubbing his palm against his bare stomach. those fucking glasses on and messy wheat blonde bed hair.

“you look beautiful.” he mumbles to you as you tie your sarong around your waist. he leans on the doorframe to the girls make up room, biting down on his lip with sleep creases on his cheek.

you’ve just got your bikini on, not having done your makeup yet. his ruby eyes hold so much, mostly sleep deprivation but also admiration for you.

you don’t look at his tiny tight boxers as he crosses his arms across his chest.

“thanks katsuki,” you breathe, focusing on putting your hair in place in the mirror.

why are you staying loyal to your couple? isn’t the point of this experience to talk to as many people as you can? find a real connection?

it’s a few seconds of silence. you looking through your makeup bag as katsuki looks over at you.

“you okay?” you ask, peering at him through your lashes.

“i’m not… fuck i’m not tryna pressure you or anythin’. i’d hate for you to think that,” he sighs, shoves his fingertips under his glasses to rub his eyes, “but i’m still around. waitin’ if you wanna give me a chance.”

you moan to yourself. you’re not sure why you’re so afraid of giving him a chance. perhaps the fact you know he will be perfect for you. but what will everyone else say? the talk of how quickly you dropped shouto, two weeks long, for this new bombshell? isn’t that the point of it all?

“katsuki…,” you trail off.

he lets himself in the room.

“can i sit? i won’t fuck anythin’ up.”

you nod, studying how this big, six foot six man plops down in one of the makeup stools beside you.

he even smells good after a sweaty night sleep, looks sexy as hell too. sweet and sugary. a touch of mint from just brushing his teeth.

“what’s the glasses for?” you ask, checking your face in the mirror. you can’t be looking stupid in front of him.

katsuki chuckles, “shit eyes.”

you roll your eyes, “i know that, idiot. long sighted or short sighted.”

he spreads his legs to get comfortable, crosses his arms and leans forward to stretch his back. it feels as if he’s under your nose, all around your body. his presence is all consuming, warm.

“shortsighted. can’t miss what’s right in front of me,” he sniffs, “gotta have them on if i’m talkin’ to you.”

“shut up,” you whisper, so clearly amused. you adjust the strap of your bikini while he stares at your lips. “how’s your couple going?”

he pushes his glasses up his nose, makes a scrunched up face at your question. “in the nicest way possible, i couldn’t give a fuck.”

you slap his arm, “katsuki!”

“no wait, i mean we get on as friends but there’s nothing romantic there. nothing like an actual couple.” he tries to explain.

you raise your eyebrows at him. you get it. a few of your girls are in one right now. you opt to put your hair in a slick ponytail, smoothing out the bumps on your head. bakugou struggles to look away.

then he tilts his head, “what about you and what’s his face? you still lovin’ it there?”

“it’s complicated.” you grab your brush but you can’t get your hair to look right. you sigh to yourself, arms aching in the air.

“i can do it?”

you look at him through the mirror. he pokes his tongue in his cheek.

“my hair?”

“yeah? looks easy, dunno what you’re doing wrong.”

the audacity makes you give him a try, letting go of your hair for him to try.

“go on then. pro hero and a hairdresser. jack of all trades.”

bakugou smirks, rising from his stool, “yeah. that’s what they call me.”

with ease he swoops up your hair in one calloused hand and immediately your eyes widen. you’ve not even kissed the guy yet but with his hips to your back, holding your hair tight like this, somehow feels even more intimate.

“pass the brush. i’ll show you how it’s done.”

“you’re acting like i’ve never done it before.”

“this is gonna be the best ponytail you’ve ever had.”

he takes an odd boyish technique to it. holding your hair in a fist as he slowly brushes out every bump. he takes care, bending closer and looking at you through the mirror to check again. you’re cheek to cheek and you feel your body heat up like you’re out on the terrace and not in an air conditioned room.

“that’s good, right? smooth as hell,” he whispers next to you, voice husky.

“y-yeah. looks good.”

“sick,” he grins, grabbing your two hair bands off the table and tying your hair up into a high pony tail.

then katsuki steps away as if to check over his work.

“pretty. i’d kiss you if i was in a couple with you.”

you pout instinctively, “i’ll talk with shouto to keep him in the loop. i do… i think we’d get on.”

both your heads dart to the door at the sound of footsteps and giggles. everyone’s awake now.

“i think we’d more than get on, princess.”

“yn, baby! there you are!” your best friend momo says in her pyjamas, coming around the table to give you a side hug. “hey katsuki.”

katsuki grunts a hi, slowly inching out the room without taking his eyes off you.

“love the hair. how’d you get it so clean?”

you don’t give him the satisfaction, “trial and error, babe.”

“i’ll see you two later,” bakugou says, hand on the top of the doorframe to leave. “i’m gonna pull you later, yn.”

then he’s off down the corridor.

momo opens her eyes wide, staring at you. “spill. how long were you both in here? are you giving him a chance now? you… you didn’t kiss did you?”

you shake your hands in the air, “no, no, no! no kisses but i think i’m gonna give him a chance.” you throw your head back and close your eyes, “i’m scared of how much i’m going to like him.”

momo grins, “finally, babe. i’ve been waiting for you to wake up! you deserve excitement, fun, even love! and he’s fine as fuck! it’s going to be fun either way.”

about twenty minutes later, more girls have flooded the make up room getting ready while you sit back on the sofa and chat with everyone.

he’s hard to ignore, bakugou katsuki, as he steps into the room for the second time in the morning.

“for you,” he thrusts a green matcha at you. a pink straw out the top.

he’s got black shorts on now but still those goddamn glasses.

“thanks katsuki.”

“no worries, princess. see you outside.”

he doesn’t waste anytime, hating how all eyes are on him and the room has fallen silent. though he waits for you to take a sip, a slow smirk rising as you nod in delight.

“tasty! i’ll see you out there.”

with that, he nods, circling out the room.

“did he fucking call you princess?”

“are you finally letting him in now? that poor boy has been waiting!”

bakugou is only drinking because you’re on holiday right now with your girls. without you around, his whole routine has gone out of whack. no visiting you after work or picking you up from your writing class. no lounging on your sofa as he cooks you fancy pasta in your tiny kitchen with your roommate next door. he saves some for her also.

bakugou feels like a train run off the tracks, a zombie in his body, all the colours in his world have fallen flat.

so he’s taken to one of the most popular vices, alcohol with his buddies. his buddies aren’t helping. kaminari doesn’t know how to please this new girl he’s seeing and kirishima thinks he’s suitable to give advice. the third beer bakugou has downed makes them less annoying. just a smidge.

bakugou leans his head on the back of kirishima’s sofa, staring blankly at the ceiling. his beer fisted on his knee. you’re probably leaving the beach now, in that pretty striped bikini you snapped a photo of a few hours ago. you said you were going to sunbathe, eat snacks, listen to music and read your book. group solo time you said. he wishes he was with you now.

“and i know she’s going to leave me for it,” kaminari whines into his palms, “b-but i tell her that i can keep going but she says no she’s fine. i think she finds it awkward because i just came and she hasn’t.”

kirishima knocks his empty can on his coffee table. it’s surprising he’s even got one in his only basic necessities needed bachelor pad.

“you don’t finger her at the beginning? eat her out? girls love that.”

bakugou looks at his phone. no notifications from you. he huffs.

“why are you huffing and not helping me! i’m crying for help here!” kaminari moans, then burps right after. bakugou winces. “i do all the foreplay! she doesn’t come during that either!”

bakugou entertains him. he swings his head on the sofa to look at one of his longest friends. “the fuck are you doin’ if she’s not comin’ when you’re eatin’ her?”

even though kaminari asked him, he and kirishima turn to look at bakugou with these slow drunken blinks.

“hah? what?”

“what do you know about….” kaminari starts.

kirishima leans forward to his best friend, truly interested in his answer, “sexually pleasing women?”

“what are you two idiots on? obviously i know.” though bakugou flushes red at the topic.

sure he’s not the most experienced in womenkind but he is in one. he knows what you like.

“wait how—,” kirishima starts but kaminari cuts in with desperation neither men have seen before.

“kacchan how!” he cries, hands clasped together and shaking in bakugou’s face. “how do i make my lady orgasm?”

bakugou’s quick to push kaminari away, having him fly to the other side of the sofa but still, he looks to him for answers with eager eyes.

“get the hell off me!” bakugou says then remembers to check his phone. still no text from you. not even an update on the sunset on the beach? a selfie? damn. he shuts his device and looks to his friends. “the problem is you idiots callin’ it foreplay. touchin’ her is sex.”

“kacchan!” he urges.

“fuck! i usually eat her out and when she’s close, i add in my fingers. shit has her comin’ down my wrist on command.” bakugou blurts like the words were dragged out of his throat. then his blush deepens. he takes a swig of his beer.

kaminari’s mouth gapes open, “what the fuck? tell me HOW. in DETAIL!”

“who?” kirishima asks, tilting his chair to look at bakugou properly. “why didn’t you tell your brothers you had a girlfriend?”

“none of your fuckin’ business.”

“i bet you told deku!”

“fuck off about deku…,” then bakugou sighs. no notifications, “i met her through round face. she told him.”

“guys we’re going off topic. tell me how kacchan.” kaminari asks, about to crawl into bakugou’s lap.

bakugou shrugs. large motions all huffy and dramatic.

“it’s f-fuckin’ instinctual,” bakugou rubs his eyes. alcohol and thinking about your pussy around his friends. this wasn’t how he was expecting his evening to go. “i just suck and lick at her clit. i’m loud and messy with it… she likes that. stick my tongue in her, kiss her thighs. i dunno i just do everythin’. then when she’s about to come, she gets all grabby at my hair, pushin’ my head into her so i finger her. she explodes with these cute ass squeals.”

“shit, man,” from kirishima.

“damn kacchan… feel like i needa be making notes.” kaminari inches towards bakugou and bakugou grunts, spreading his legs to get comfortable. “but wait, before that, what happens? and what’s the technique when you give head? a—and your fingers—,”

it’s the alcohol that makes bakugou really consider his questions. thinking about you softens him, gets him warm and fuzzy inside.

“my woman told me that foreplay starts in the mornin’. she likes when i kiss her awake and sweet talk her. cute texts during the day. cookin’ for her and havin’ a plan for the evenin’ even if it’s watchin’ a movie. means when we start makin’ out on the sofa she’s climbin’ all over me, grindin and feelin’ for my dick.”

bakugou looks his friends up and down. “i don’t do all that to get my dick wet though. i do it ‘cause i like seein’ her happy.” then after frowning, “i do like eatin’ her pussy. i miss her.”

kirishima feels the urge to open hinge and messaging his matches. he wants whatever his best friend has.

“where is she?”

“on holiday with her friends.”

“why didn’t you go?”

“i said with her fuckin’ friends. i’m not her friend. why would i be there?” he snaps.

kirishima shrugs. “can we see a photo? what’s she look like?”

bakugou can do that. he goes into his photo gallery. he’s got so many photos of you to choose from.

“do you alternate between small licks and big licks? and your fingers, what’s the motion?”

bakugou rolls his lips in pondering, “big one at the start just to taste everythin’. then small licks on her clit. whatever gets her moanin’ loud.” he lazily flicks through selfies of you, “i curl my fingers inside her. brush against her insides.”

“and—,”

“this her.” bakugou thrusts his phone in his friends faces.

it’s a selfie you took yesterday on a boat in your striped bikini. the sun beams down on you beautifully, making you glow while the sea is bright blue behind you. you’re smiling, squinting slightly from the sun.

“don’t look too goddamn hard!” he barks once two heads duck closer to his phone.

“what’s her name? she’s gorgeous?”

“oh wow!”

bakugou doesn’t have a chance to answer when his phone is overcome from a phone call, showing your first name and last name.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” bakugou whips up from his seat, “she hasn’t called all day. i’m goin’ into your bedroom. don’t wait up for me.”

bakugou storms into kaminari’s bedroom, answering the phone in haste, “baby, finally. i’ve been waitin’ for you to call… no, i’m not drunk…. just a lil.”

once the bedroom door clicks shut, kirishima sighs, “i’m gonna get back on hinge… actually maybe ochako has some friends for me?”

- fluff

you tapped your pen against the front desk, scanning memberships as the usual morning crowd filtered in. the gym was quiet this early, just the hum of treadmills and clinking weights in the background. then the automatic doors slid open and in he came in like clockwork.

satoru gojo. tall, messy white hair, blindfold pushed up like a headband today so those insane blue eyes could shine under the fluorescent lights. he wore a black compression shirt that should be illegal.

“morning, sweetheart,” he drawled, leaning his forearms on the counter like he owned the place. “did you dream about me again? be honest.”

you snorted, sliding his card back without looking. “yeah, in my nightmares. you were late on dues and i had to chase you out with a clipboard.”

he gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “ouch. that hurts, baby. right here.” he pointed at his heart, then leaned in closer with a smirk. “but we both know you’d miss me if i stopped showing up. who else is gonna bring you these?”

he slid a strawberry mochi across the desk like he was handing over treasure. you tried to look unimpressed but took it anyway. “bribing the front desk now? bold strategy, gojo.”

“is it working?” he wiggled his eyebrows. “c’mon, give me a little credit. i even remembered your favorite flavor this time. last week you said the mango ones were mid.”

you popped a piece in your mouth, trying not to smile too big. “okay, fine. you’re slightly less annoying than usual today.”

“slightly? i’m wounded.” he clutched the counter like he might faint. “i come in here every day looking this good and all i get is ‘slightly’? cruel woman. i might have to start doing my sets right here so you can appreciate the view.”

“please don’t. you’ll scare the retirees away,” you laughed, waving him toward the gym floor. “go sweat somewhere else, pretty boy.”

gojo didn’t move. instead he rested his chin on his hand, staring at you with that stupidly soft grin that made your stomach flip.

“pretty boy, huh? keep calling me that and i really won’t leave this desk. might just camp out here until you agree to get coffee with me after your shift.” you raised an eyebrow, heart fluttering. “coffee? that’s the best line you got?”

“nah, i’ve got better ones, but i’m saving them for when you finally admit you like me too.” he winked, finally pushing off the counter but walking backwards so he could keep teasing. “four o’clock, right? don’t make me wait, desk princess. i get whiny when i’m hungry… and when the cutest girl in the building leaves me hanging.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. “go lift something heavy before your ego gets too big for the door, satoru.”

he blew you a kiss over his shoulder as he finally headed in. every day he came in he stayed longer at the desk, and every day the banter got a little sweeter. gojo was hooked, and he wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore.