dolly ᥫ᭡.

let me further elaborate on enemy!peter x journalist!reader (based on this post)

obviously, their relationship is fueled by mutual hatred, bickering at any given chance and annoying the hell out of each other (and everyone else around them).

but that’s peter parker and journalist!reader, not spiderman and journalist!reader. your first interaction was when you was walking home after dinner with friends, slightly tipsy with sore feet from your heels. your guard was down and before you knew it, your purse was snatched from your shoulder, leaving you helpless and confused in your hazy state. it took a good moment for it to register that you just got robbed, moving too late. thankfully for you, spiderman was nearby, saving your precious purse and handling the thief. now, peter didn’t want to help you originally, debating with himself, tempted to leave you there to your own devices. but then again, right now he wasn’t peter parker and you weren’t the girl he hated with all his might, he was spiderman and he had a duty to protect the citizens of new york—even the insufferable ones. so he shot out a web, retrieved your purse and did what he would’ve done had you been anyone else.

“here you go, miss. you shouldn’t be walking alone so late, i won’t always be around to save you.”

you were flabbergasted, jaw dropped. there was absolutely no way you were face to face with spiderman! peter really wished he could taunt you the next day for your star struck reaction, knowing just how big of a fan girl you were. he knew all about your little crush on him—well his alter ego—and it was just to amusing to see your reaction.

“i-i know, but i live close by.”

your stuttering had him smug under the mask, he’s never once heard you stutter before. it encouraged him to just tease you more, but the way you looked up at him with such awe and trust made him strangely falter, instead offering to walk you to your apartment, shocking himself.

you thanked him so sweetly, smiling all coy before stumbling into your apartment complex, waving bye all shy, nothing like how you usually were with him outside of the mask. you’d totally brag about this to peter the next day, he could sense it and he’d just have to pretend to be irritated.

overtime, his plan to mess around with you as spiderman, using your attraction to his advantage, died down, wanting nothing more than to keep a careful eye on you and make sure you stayed safe of any trouble. if you would’ve told him a month ago that he was this concerned for you, he would’ve been sure it was bullshit, yet, here he was.

you had no clue that the hero you were flirting with whenever you got the chance through an interview or the countless times he had to save you was actually the one soul on this earth that you despised. you’d be mortified to know that the masked hero you spent many sleepless nights touching yourself to and having wet dreams about was peter parker, and if he knew how much you though of spiderman in that way, he’d feel some sort of guilt but when you got all lovely with him, he really wouldn’t have it any other way.

or in which peter parker comes home after patrol to eat out his sleepy gf.

it’s been a long day and peter was exhausted by his nightly routine. he hadn’t had proper sleep in a good while and the lack of rest was catching up to his body. thankfully, tonight was calm for the most part, a few attempts of breaking into jewelry shops and robbing people on the street was the most criminal activity he had to stop tonight, but that didn’t make him any less tired as he stumbled into your shared bedroom, the window feeling too small for his aching body.

there you were, a real sleeping beauty, sprawled out in bed, hugging his pillow as if it were him as you slept your stress away. he knew work had been hard on you recently, with your boss’s ever demanding orders and your coworkers sucking you into their work drama, the weekend was exactly what you needed to recover. you looked so peaceful with your hair sprayed out on the pillows and your lips slightly parted, the softest snores leaving them, a real testament of your deep sleep. he knew he should’ve just taken a quick shower and joined you in slumber, but something about how docile you looked tempted him.

carefully, he walked over, quiet as to not wake up up. the last thing he wanted was to accidentally disturb your slumber, so he was as silent as he could be as he made his way over to your bed. he took in the sight of you, guard down and gentle, and the slightest pang of guilt hit him, how could he even think about touching your sweet, sleeping form? then again, you did say you’d do anything for him and you never minded when he woke you up by eating you out.

that’s exactly how you ended up, half asleep with his head between your thighs. his mouth left kisses along the inner skin, trailing up to your gleaming pussy, already dripping like honey as he peeled away your tiny sleep shorts. he let out a chuckle against your skin, shaking his head in amusement when he noticed you weren’t wearing any panties. even in your sleep, you were such a slut for him.

“no panties, sweetie? such a desperate thing, huh?”

the vibration of his words against your cunt had you stirring a bit, legs spreading unconsciously. squirming, you let out a mewl as if your mind was slowly registering what was happening. with the first lick up your slit alone, you were waking up, the cutest sleepy noises leaving your lips as your hand creeped down to find his head, still sleepy and slightly scared, you needed confirmation that it was your boyfriend.

“mmph! peter?”

the drowsiness in your whine had his heart clenching, his poor baby was just so tired, but how could he resist you when you looked so alluring under the pale moonlight.

“shh, baby, yeah, it’s me. go back to sleep, honey, i’ve got you.”

accentuating his words, his hands pinned your thighs down onto the mattress, his lips latching onto your throbbing bud, subduing you and any protests that threatened to leave your lips. with a sluggish mewl, your eyes were closing again—not that they ever fully opened and the hand resting in his hair went limp. he felt the way you only got wetter as he worked his tongue on your puffy folds, your moans quiet and tired proved how much you were enjoying this, motivating him to keep taking care of you. after all, he did promise he’d always take care of you his girl no matter what, he’d spend the whole night caressing your thighs and making out with glossy cunt if it meant you’d sleep better—you always did after he fucked you. all he wanted was to be a good boyfriend for his sleepy girl.

it started in high school, with something as petty as who got the better grade in chem class, but that little rivalry followed you all the way to university, even when studying different majors, you still fought as if you were each other competition, making your friend group awkward when both of you were together.

not to mention, you hated the smug look he got whenever you mentioned spiderman, going on and on about the hero and how you looked up to him, even talking all delusional about how you bet he was just so hot under the mask, oblivious to the fact your very own enemy was the man under the suit. you never understood why he looked so cocky every time you cooed over spiderman, growing suspicious since the first times you noticed it back in junior year, even going as far as questioning mj and ned, cornering them with claims that seemed ridiculous as you said them outloud, believing peter was spiderman. they denied it, of course, and you let it go, brushing it off as stupid, there was no way he could ever be someone as heroic as spiderman.

things only got worst when you got a job at a newspaper office and much to your surprise, he was working there too, as a photographer but still close enough to you! it set you off horribly, he wasn’t even remotely interested in working in journalism like you were, you were determined to becoming a reporter and you were convinced he took the job just to spite you. you were fuming when you saw him, scoffing and going off on him during your lunch break, damning him to hell for having the audacity to sell photographs here!

“seriously, parker, you just had to work here! you’re not even good at this, just look at your shitty pictures!”

the venom in your voice was horrible, glaring at him in the lobby, walking out to get buy lunch.

“yeah, well, the paycheck i just got says otherwise.”

he’s retort dryly, shaking the white envelope in front of your face to further annoy you. you’d scoff and grumble under your breath, irritated by how he so easily got under your skin.

“whatever, i bet you didn’t even take those pictures, there’s just no way you have the talent for that.”

“i told you, im friends with spiderman, dont be so jealous that i know him.”

you scoffed, rolling your eyes and looking at him with pure disdain, “right and i’m best friends with thor. there’s no way someone as cool as spiderman would be friends with you.”

if only you knew how much you boosted his ego when you praised spiderman, he knew you’d be mortified to find out you were talking so highly about him. you just hated peter parker and he hated you just as much, but something about your attraction to spiderman both gave him confidence and furthered enraged him, how could you like the hero but not him?

strangely, he’d still use his hero persona as a way to get closer to you, under the guise that it was solely because he wanted to get to more about your weaknesses and vulnerabilities so he could torture you with it as peter parker, but somewhere throughout bonding with you, he grew a soft spot and genuine care for you—though hed rather choke on his blood and get his identity revealed to the world before he admit it to himself.

you should’ve known something was off with peter as soon as the door slammed when he got home, barely acknowledging you as he stepped into your shared apartment. his arachnid senses were going crazy and the way you just stared at him with doe eyes wasn’t exactly helping how needy he felt for you. it was bad as it was when the arachnid hormones weren’t sending him in overdrive, but like this, everything you did seemed to be extra arousing.

“peter? are you okay?” your soft voice registered in his mind, sitting there all pretty on the couch, brows furrowed in confusion as you got up. he could hear your heart beating faster, gasping softly as you noticed the black in his eyes and the sweat dripping from his brow.

everything was ten times more intense, from how loud your moans were—practically sounding like screams to his ears—to the sweet sensation of your warm pussy, welcoming him as you fell limp against the bed, fucked out by his relentless pace. he knew he was being rough with you which is partially why he hated fucking you when he was like this, he didn’t want to hurt you. he’d rather die than ever make you feel pain, but the sopping squelching of your pussy was the perfect reassurance that you were in anything but pain.

your glistening cunt was soaking his hand, dripping down his wrist as his fingers found that hypersensitive little button of yours, reveling in the way your body jerked forward, a throaty, cut off moan leaving your lips.

“p-peter, hmph!”

your hand snaked over to reach for his arm, whining in harmony to the squeaking of the bed as he fucked into you. “arm” you babbled, blinding grabbing at his strong limb as he continued his relentless attack on your aching clit.

delivering a sharp smack to your ass, your let out a pained, pitiful whimper. “use your words, baby, can’t read your mind.”

you forgot how mean he could get when he was possessed by those extra spider hormones, yet with how fuzzy your brain was already, it was just so hard to form words and he knew it. slowing his pace, he reached over, taking ahold of your chin, his big, rough hand cupping your jaw until he maneuvered your head to look back at him.

“cmon, pretty, i can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me, ask nicely, honey, you know how.”

his condescending tone had your eyes rolling back, mewling as incoherent babbles left your lips, trying your very best to ask for what you needed.

“c-choke!”

you managed to stutter out, earning you a gentle caress down your back, a contrast to how roughly he was fucking using you. “atta girl, that’s more like it, knew you had it in you, sweetheart.”

it wasn’t the first time you asked for him to choke you. every time you had sex for the last two weeks, you had asked begged him to be rougher and just squeeze your neck, but he always refused, too scared to hurt you with his superhuman strength. however, he was careless in this state, leaning his weight over your back as he kept your pliant on all fours, taking his cock dumbly. you’ve been on your best behavior all night, so who was he to refuse his sweet girls request?

before you knew it, he was granting your plea, with his arm tightly squeezing around your neck, head lolling into the crook of his bicep, drooling onto the sheets below you, staggered, high pitched moans leaving those glossy lips, looking utterly fucked out as he let out low groans above you.

he squeezed harder, ripping a loud yelp from your lips that would’ve been concerning if you didn’t suddenly gush around him, milking his cock as your eyes shut lazily. he could tell you were close with the way you tightened and your body tensed, more gibberish fell from your lips as he kept rubbing your puffy clit, pushing you over the edge as you came, followed shortly by his own release, leaving your pussy and thighs a creamy, sticky mess, the black in his eyes clearing as he relaxed.

as you both caught your breath, your hands came up to his forearm, gently tugging at it, a silent request to let you go and film you over. once he did, you smiled softly at him, hand coming up to cup his cheek, arching up to kiss him. pulling away, he could see the pure love and subtle concern floating in your eyes, “feel better?”

he didn’t even bother to verbally responded, scooping you up and resting his body weight on you, enveloping you in a hug as you let out a giggle, hand tangling in his hair as wrapped yourself up in him.

the two of you stayed that way, warm in each others embrace before he kissed your cheek, peeling away and muttering, “let me clean you up.” only for you to protest, pulling him back onto you and wrapping yourself slightly sweaty arms around him, “no, no, stay, want a round two anyway.”

with the blissful look on your face and the way you nuzzled into him, how could he ever deny his ever so perfect and helpful girlfriend?

you were still in your scrubs, ready to rest after a stressful day. you’ve only been working at the hospital for a week and getting adjusted had been a process you had heavily underestimated. exhausted from the day, you grabbed clothes and all your necessary bath supplies to take a quick shower, grateful to finally have a day off after a long week of getting yelled at by both patients and family members.

as you hummed to the music playing softly through your room, a sudden brisk knock on your window, hasty and distressed, forcing you to pause your music and slow your movements to listen for any hint of who could possibly be outside your apartment at this time—it wasn’t like you invited anyone over, especially not by window.

glancing around the bedroom, your eyes landed on an old baseball bat, metallic and sturdy, perfect to become a makeshift weapon. reaching over and stepping back, ready to swing, you jumped when a knock came through again, only growing more and more desperate, scaring you as your breath hitched and you stepped closer to the window, bat in one hand while the other peeked through the curtains.

in hindsight, it was a stupid idea to make it known to the mysterious stranger outside that you were home—and in your room—but, as you peeled away the flimsy excuse of a fabric you called a curtain, nothing could’ve been better than seeing spiderman on the other side.

the bat slide out of your grip, crashing onto the ground in a loud clang. your lips parted in disbelief, blinking like a deer in headlights at the sight, subtly pinching your thigh to check if it was a dream. wincing as the sensation of the pinch stung your body, one thing was clear to you—spiderman was really at your apartment. at your window, knocking and upon looking weaker than you’ve ever seen him on the news.

after a split moment of hesitation and sensing the slight regret in his body, you unlocked the window, hastily pushing it open, letting him crawl in, heavy breathing filling the other wise silence of your room.

star stuck, you remained still, staring at him for what felt like an eternity before your voice, shaky and quiet—as if you were nervous someone would hear you in this empty apartment.

“y-youre spiderman.”

despite the obvious confusion in your tone, your eyes gave away your excitement of having a literal superhero in your room! before you could say anything else, he winced in pain as he moved, shifting your attention from his face to his torso, noticing the cut on the side of his stomach.

"oh my goodness," you mused, feet moving on their own as you examined his cut. it was like a switch flipped in you, suddenly professional as if he were an ordinary patient, not spiderman--or at least you thought, your nerves were too obvious, if he weren't so hurt, he would've laughed.

"are you--are you okay? sorry, sorry that's a dumb question." talking to yourself, slightly relaxing when you heard him chuckle then groan in pain. "uh, I have a first aid kit?" you didn't mean for it to come out like a question, but even a professional got caught off guard every once in awhile. "it's in the bathroom, just...sit," you gestured to your bed, turning to leave your room before glancing back at him, "wait here."

you groaned silently as your walked to the restroom, cringing at the fact that you just ordered spiderman to sit on your bed. looking through your drawers, your heart dropped when you realized you hadn't restocked since the last time you used the kit, leaving you with minimal supplies--and very embarrassing spiderman themed bandaids. you had forgotten all about those, buying them for your little cousins--who like any child, were obsessed with the hero-- only letting you cover their scraped knees and cuts if you used "cool" bandaids. there was absolutely no way you could use these childish, humiliating bandaids on him, but you couldn't just leave him bleeding on your bed.

sighing, you grabbed the bright red and blue box, heading back to your room, carrying antiseptic, gauze pads, and some pain relievers you assumed he'd appreciate. heading back into you room, you dropped everything on the corner of your bed, suddenly shy as you looked over at him, a small smile grazing your lips. you caught him staring at a frame of you with your best friends--mj and ned.

you let out a soft laugh, momentarily staring at the picture before fixing your gaze on him, it was so warm and gentle, making his heart ache with the urge to tell you all about your forgotten past.

"those are my best friends," you mumbled as you wet a gauze with antiseptic, carefully sitting down next to him, leaning over to carefully clean his cut.

"they look nice." he finally said after letting your words linger in the suddenly cramped room for too long. if only you knew that he knew just how nice they could be.

"they are." you chuckled, missing the way his eyes stayed glued on the frame for a few more seconds, too focused on making sure his injuries didn't get infected. in fact, you also missed the way he admired you, softened by how easily you were willing to help him--a complete stranger. sure, his hero alias had a popularity and there was no doubt you knew of him, but that didn't mean you had to welcome him into your home, especially after an extensive work day. he wasn't blind to your worry--of course you were worried--attempting to ease your concern with a joke,"you should see the other guy"

pausing your ministrations, a mixture of a scoff and chuckle left your lips, the perfect sound of disappointment yet amusement. "id hate to be him--or his nurse."

under the mask, he smiled, remembering all the times you teased him about being his personal nurse. "oh, so you're my nurse now."

shooting him a pointed look with a brow raised in a way that screamed 'seriously?', "what else would you call the person who tends to your wounds, mr. spiderman?"

holding eye contact for what felt for too long, you burst out into a fit of laughter, reveling in the fact that you made him laugh, you finally turned away, more flustered than you should've been, returning to the matter at hand.

you were so focused with your tongue sticking out in concentration, careful as you pressed gently against the big cut on his side, letting the gauze soak up the blood, setting aside the dirtied cotton into a plastic bag to dispose of later. once you were sure the wound was clean, you wrapped the bandage around the now cleaned cut, shifting your attention to other minor injuries that ranged from bruises to cuts.

the room was noticeably quiet after all your laughing, devoid of any sounds other than your movements and his breathing. it wasn't strange to him, you always were silent when you were focused like this. yet, he couldn't help but recall the many times you helped tend to his injuries before that horrid spell made him disappear from your mind.

as you reached into your first aid kit for band aids to cover the small cuts, you suddenly remembered the spiderman themed bandaids, all hopes of them going unnoticed dying as soon as you picked one out of the box.

"I didnt take you as that big of a fan of me."

the way he said it so casually and cockily made you scoff playfully, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. "don't boost your own ego, they're for my little cousins." slightly embarrassed by the very vibrant bandaids.

“it’s okay to admit if they’re yours, i’ve got fans of all ages.”

“they’re so not mine, im more of a hulk fan.” you shrugged, shaking your head in pure amusement as you carefully placed the bright red and blue band aid over his now cleaned cuts, letting the back and forth banter fill your cozy room, making you strangely nostalgic for something you couldn’t remember.

“o-kay! you’re all done.” you chirped,smiling at him as you awkwardly patted at his arm, cautious to avoiding any injuries.

as the tension in the room grew more and more awkward after he thanked you, you excused yourself to go throw away the used gauze and stash your first aid kid back in the cabinet. moving quickly, you headed back to ask if he needed anything else, only to find your bed empty and window open, looking out just in time to see a flash of red and blue costuming swinging past the buildings, glancing back down at your bed, smiling to yourself as you noticed the silly box of bandaids you forgot to put away, a little post it covered in his messy handwriting, 'thank you' next to a smily face. giggling, you stored the bandaids in your nightstand, the post it safe in the drawer, what a day.

a/n: i lowkey rushed the ending, forgive me guys 😖