Samyu

The truth was; you were aware of his name only because you were noisy and had heard a conversation between him and the landlord. Peter Parker. He was cute and friendly most of the time, you couldn’t deny it, but the way he seemed to push people away was such a turn-off that you stopped thinking about him after a while and let him do his things.

Well, that was a lie! You thought about him often and about how you’d die to ask him on a date and perhaps get to know him more.

But tonight? Waking you up so late? This was too much. 

You grabbed your night robe and your slippers before leaving your apartment quietly; in the hallway, all you could hear was the lights buzzing and the mechanic reply from the elevator as you called it. You arrived upstairs in only a few minutes, eyebrows furrowed and ready to spark an argument but the slight ajar door made you realize something could be wrong. You took one step closer, your heart beating faster inside your chest and almost giving you tinnitus with how loud he sounded in your ears. 

The door creaked when you pushed it slightly open and you told yourself it was a fuck-ass idea, you should just go back home and mind your business. Another thud made you jump on your feet, and before you realized what you were doing, you slipped inside the apartment. “Hello? Is someone there?” Your voice echoed in the room, your eyes squinted at the view of electronics, laptops, and whatnots. Nothing you knew of, nothing you clearly understood and stayed suspicious of.

A groan was heard in the room, deeper into the shadows, making you turn around.

A gasp left your mouth when you saw him, Spider-Man, staying there with his head in his hands. Well, half of Spider-Man was there because the rest was Peter Parker; the mask was gone from his face, giving his identity away and that’s when you recognized your quiet and friendly neighbor. You took a step closer and it was as if he had finally heard you after his migraine passed by, his eyes were wide as he looked up at you, and immediately panicked. “Shit! Don’t look!” He tried to turn around, and pull his mask on but you stopped him.

“I mean, there’s no need for that, I just saw your face, Peter.” You said, eyebrows furrowed in an apologetic expression. He slowed his movements, one gloved hands running through his brown curls before he sighed and turned around, looking at you. The fabric of your night robe had fallen from one of your shoulders, giving a view of the low collar of your pyjama top and he couldn’t stop focusing on it. You coughed and his cheeks tinted red before he looked away.

“Sorry, I—This is awkward…” You hummed at his words, nodding your head. It wasn’t like you were going to tell anyone about his secret, but what were you supposed to do now? Act like you had no idea? Wink at him each time you saw him in the elevator like don’t worry, I got you? 

“I live beneath you, and you just woke me up.” You simply replied, changing the subject so he wouldn’t feel bad for the fact that you had caught him without his mask on. His mouth opened wide for a second before he hissed, eyebrows furrowing again but in what seemed to be pain, this time. He choked on his words, gibberish leaving his mouth and you simply took another step closer. “Are you alright? Uh, do I need to call an ambulance?” 

He immediately shook his head at your words. “No! No—It’s alright… Just some headache. I’m sorry for the noise, I slipped over something. I swear it won’t happen again!” He said, a bit panicked, pupils blown out and you almost believed him. Still, you crossed your arms under your chest, the motion pushing your breasts up. You could clearly see the movements of his dilated eyes onto your body.

“You say that all the time, and then, you do it again. You know, there needs to be consequences to this, right?” You said, a shiver passing through your body as he panted, his cheeks tinting a deeper red when his orbs focused on you and the way your chest puffed up and down with each breath. There was tremor in his hands as he seemed to want to grab onto you, though his resilience was stronger and he took a step backwards.

“Yes, yes, I know… There will be consequences, I swear, I understand that.” His voice trembled as he turned his back to you and God, you could only watch as his muscles shook from under the fabric of his suit, contracting just for the pleasure of your eyes. You cleared out your throat, rubbing your temple and hummed at his words. “I’m serious, I’ll have to call the landlord if this keeps going. I don’t want to be like that but I need to sleep.” 

He took another step away and your eyes lowered to his thighs and higher, to his ass. You truly couldn’t help yourself but felt guilty after a second, and you ended up looking at the back of his head, at his brown curls. 

“I—I won’t make any more noise, I promise.”

The conversation kind of ended that way. There was no begging of keeping his secret, no explanation or question about his identity. You took what he gave you, the smallest of words and left it that way. It was enough, you told yourself; you also didn’t need to know more about the secret he was keeping. 

But God, if life was this simple, right? It was around 2A.M that you were awakened, only a week after the conversation you had with him.

That time, it wasn’t just a simple dull thud, no; it was as if his apartment was raided. Things were falling, hitting his floor and echoed into the darkness of your bedroom, glass hitting the walls and a loud whine that slipped past the very old floor to hit your ears.

You didn’t even try to cover yourself that time, and only because you were too mad to even think about grabbing something to do so; but it wasn’t like you were indecent, anyway. Your slippers made the wooden flooring of the old building creak as you took the stairs this time; you were not in the mood to wait for the elevator as you knew it might lower the level of anger you were in. (God, you didn’t want to relativize this time). 

The sound of your knuckles hitting on the door echoed in the small corridor that the apartment was in, almost being louder than it really was. Silence took over but only a second or so before something fell behind the closed door, breaking on the floor. You decided it was enough noise and decided to just enter; your luck that the door was not closed—and you almost cursed at your neighbor’s stupidity.

What if someone else had come all this way?

You mumbled under your breath when pushing the door close behind you, seeing the state of the apartment. Some of the furniture was overturned, glass broken on the floor and papers everywhere; the room only illuminated by a warm lamp. A silhouette was bent over the desk, you squinted just to see a flash of red and blue, making you recognize the man; Spider-Man, your friendly neighbor. (Literally). 

You couldn’t see the expression on his face as the mask was on, hiding the blown pupils and sweaty forehead to you.

The floor creaked as you took a step closer and his body immediately straightened but you couldn’t miss the way he was shaking, panting and trying to hide from your eyes. “Hey? Are you alright?” You asked, one hand extending like you were about to touch his shoulder. He gasped, a whine leaving his mouth and surprising you with how needy he seemed to be in that moment. “Wait! Stop—!” He said, hiding his front.

You stopped yourself from walking closer, breath stuck in your throat. It’s only then that you realize how warm the room was; how humid and sticky the air around felt and how heat had pooled in your stomach like a normal body response. But… to what?

He turned around, hands tightly gripping the edge of the desk and your eyes couldn’t help but feel attracted to the prominent bulge showing between his legs, stretching the fabric of his suit.

Warmth ran to the back of your neck and you tried your best to look upward to his masked face, only to feel his eyes already looking at you from behind the white-eyes. The words were stuck in your throat and you almost forgot why you had made your way to his apartment in the first place; until the half-darkness of the apartment reminded you.

“I—Do you know how late it is? You woke me up, again. This is getting tiring, seriously.” You said, licking your lips and begging any higher being to not let you look down again. Spider-Man—Peter, hissed, as if he couldn’t concentrate on the conversation at hand, his head rolling toward the ceiling, his thighs shaking before he hummed.

“I know, I—I swear I’m not doing it on purpose! I just.. I have no idea what is happening to me, I feel so hot…” A whine left his mouth before he could finish. 

Concern showed on your face after his words and you didn’t even think before taking a step closer, but his body straightened at the warmth that flowed out of you; something you couldn’t realize even if you wanted to, as a simple human. “Wait, no! Don’t come closer, please… I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself if you keep that up.” He said between his teeth but you heard that clearly.

Both of your hands shot up like defense and your eyes widened but you knew that there was no threat in his words. He seemed shaken up, needy—but more than that. Like his body was reacting to something you couldn’t understand, like his DNA was calling for more. 

“Okay, okay—Are you hurt or… in danger? I don’t know, uh—” He shook his head at your words, a groan leaving his throat as his hips jerked forward, calling your eyes back down. You sighed, feeling warmth pooling in your lower stomach before looking away, once more. “No, I’m not—I just… My arachnid DNA is mutating and shit. I have no idea why I am telling you this!” He groaned.

One of his hands moved to pull the mask away from his face and you were now able to see the red cheeks and sheen layer of sweat on his forehead. His eyebrows were furrowed but more in need than frustration. You hummed at his words like you had any idea what that meant before talking a step back, pointing toward the door with your thumb. “Uh, going to get you some help… The landlord might be awake, I don’t know.”

Peter immediately straightened, pushing himself from the desk with a step closer to you, panic on his face. “No, wait!” You turned around, sure of making the right move but your body was suddenly tugged backward, web around your waist to keep you from moving more.

You gasped but it was too late and you were pulled back like a jointless toy; it didn’t hurt but the sensation surely was weird.

You didn’t have time to think about it before hitting a chest, your back pressed against a firm torso. Hands wrapped around your waist and ended up holding your hips. Peter’s breathing was heard in your ear, labored and warm as he talked. “Please, don’t go… Fuck, don’t leave me.” He whined and that’s when you felt it; his hard cock pressed against your ass, your nightgown and his suit being the only fabric between the two of you. You gasped, your body melting against his front without shame.

A silence took over the room for what seemed to be hours but it was seconds, in reality. Peter’s gloved hands tightened on your hips before traveling to your stomach and almost pulling your satin nightgown up. “You just smell so good… My body is reacting to you and I don’t know why. It’s like… I have to have you.” He whispered in your ear, hips pushing against your ass.

You didn’t say anything for a second, just reveling in the way he ground himself against your butt and how hard he seemed to be under his suit. 

“Please, can you help me? Please, I’ll be good… I’ll be so silent.” He begged in your ear, then, and you couldn’t help but sigh. Was it bad to say you had thought about something like that before? Well, before you discovered he was Spider-Man, obviously.

But, deep down, you had thought of the mysterious neighbor that didn’t talk much before. You had thought about him and his pretty face, fucking you in the elevator or on the rooftop or taking you on dates.

You couldn’t help yourself and ground back against his cock, making him whine quietly. “Only if you promise to let me sleep peacefully afterward.” You replied, tone teasing like he had won this game already (He had).

Peter didn’t even reply to those words but his arms wrapped tightly around you and before you knew it, he had turned the both of you around so your body would be against the desk. One of his arms swiped papers and gadgets on the floor like it didn’t matter at the moment; well, it didn’t seem to, anyway. One strong hand of his pushed onto your shoulders and you were left to bend over the glass desk with a gasp.

“Hey—!” You were about to protest the position (who wouldn’t want to see his pretty face) but the words were cut in your throat when you looked over your shoulder just to see him on his knees right behind you. His pretty brown eyes were focused on your panties peaking from your nightgown and a loud sigh left him. “You’re so pretty, so pretty.” He whined, gloved hands moving to push the satin fabric of your nightgown up to your back. 

The floor creaked quietly as you moved your legs to spread them out, giving him a better view of the cotton panties you had on. He whined, squirming on his knees like a puppy before one his hands lifted again and his thumb pressed against your clothed folds. You gasped, arching backward to feel more of his touch and he spoke. “Feels good?” His tone was begging, like he only wanted to make you feel pleasure.

You nodded. “Yeah, I—Go on.”  Peter hummed, his free hand moving to your hip, holding it tightly so you wouldn’t squirm away as he touched you. His thumb pressed harder, running up and down your folds and watching the fabric of your panties dampen due to your wetness pooling. He mumbled to himself, whined at the view and started to circle your clit gently.

You sighed once more and pressed your chest against the glass desk; it was cold and awakening, reminding you that this moment wasn’t a dream. Your forehead rested on your forearms and you bit down on your lips to keep the noise down a maximum. “No, please, I want to hear you… Let me hear you, please.” Peter said, when he realized what you were doing.

“Okay! Okay, God—” You groaned, eyebrows furrowed as his thumb ran up and down your folds, his fingertip pushing against your clothed entrance to tease it and then, traveled back to your clit to rub it gently. The pleasure was making you dizzy already and you almost wanted him to go faster but couldn’t ask for it.

Both his hands moved just for his fingers to press onto your pussy, thumbs pushing your clothed folds closer and apart before rubbing them. 

Once again, he pressed a thumb against your clothed hole and pushed onto it, as if to fill you with your own damp panties. Peter watched and whimpered as the fabric slowly stretched back to place. He ran his index up between your covered asscheeks and your muscles contracted when you felt his digit press onto this hole, circling it slowly and teasing it through the cotton underwear. 

Your mouth opened to speak up but a gasp left your throat when Peter’s face closed the space and his mouth pressed onto your clothed cunt. Your body squirmed in surprise and both his hands held your hips again, not letting you move an inch. Mouth wide open, your face rolled toward the ceiling as Peter pressed lingering kisses to your damp panties; he knew where to be gentle and where not to be. 

His tongue darted out and the tip pressed against your clothed entrance, dampening your underwear even more; saliva and wetness mixing. When his mouth lowered to your clit, his nose rubbed against your hole and you sighed in pleasure.

He ate your pussy out through the fabric of your panties, rolling his tongue against your clit that slowly became sensitive due to the cotton rubbing against it. 

“God, where did you learn that—” You groaned, speaking just to speak as your thighs shook gently. Peter didn’t reply, didn’t even try to push his face away from your pussy as he licked a stripe onto your clothed cunt. You could feel the wetness pooling at your hole, your pussy begging to be played with.

His hands tightened on your hips as you jerked forward and he brought back toward his face. When he finally pulled away, your panties were a mess of saliva and wetness, your juices sticking to your pussy and clit throbbing. You thought it was over, but God, no.

“I want to taste it… Can I? Please?” He asked and you looked over your shoulder once more. “Isn’t that what you just did?” You sighed and he shook his head, fingers hooking in the fabric of your underwear and slowly pulled it down to reveal your glistening pussy. He slowly helped you out of the piece of clothing and threw it somewhere in his apartment, not caring about it.

“God, you’re so… so pretty.” He whined, his hands caressing the smooth skin of your ass for a second before his warm palms were spreading your asscheeks apart, giving him a view of your holes. You didn’t have time to reply before he closed the distance once more and his mouth latched on your sloppy cunt. A gasp left your throat and one of your hands traveled backward to finish in his hair; you pulled on the brown curls and he hissed at the feeling. 

Peter’s tongue darted out to lick a stripe all along your slick folds to your asshole, tasting the sweetness of your juices.

Your fingers tightened in his hair at the feeling and the tip of his tongue rolled around your clit. “Oh, yes! That feels so good!” You whined and the words made his cock throb inside his suit. Peter hummed and he started to kiss your pussy, part your folds with the flat of his tongue before pulling away, wetness on his tongue. 

A thread of saliva mixing with wetness connected his chin to your cunt but he didn’t seem to care, he even licked his lips clean. His strong and warm hands pushed your asscheeks apart even more, lifting them up as he leaned his face back between your thighs once more. But this time, his tongue found your higher hole, teasing it with quick circles. You gasped, tugging on his curls to both pull him away and push him deeper.

His fingers buried into the fat of your ass to push your cheeks wide open some more and his thumbs moved to part your folds just to have your cunt gap. 

His lips pressed kisses to your asshole, pressing and licking around it before lowering to your pussy just to pull away and spit a fat glob of saliva onto it. The saliva slowly dripped along your folds to end at your clit and drip to the floor. Peter didn’t lose a second before he lunged his face at your pussy, sucking his saliva back into his mouth and then, using it to lick your folds up to your asshole again. 

The wet noises he was making with his mouth were depraved, echoing in the empty room that should be silent at this hour of the night. Your moans vibrated on the furniture and the walls just to hit back in your ears as he flicked his tongue against your clit and sucked onto it.

“God, please—” You cried as Peter teased your asshole with the tip of his tongue, ending up by pressing kisses to your skin. His head tilted to the side and he let his mouth kiss your asscheek, gentle and lingering. Then, he nibbled at it, making you squirm.

“My thoughts were all about you since I saw you for the first time… I touched myself thinking about you.” He groaned, mouth pressed back onto your pussy. You whine, tugging on his locks and arched your back to have his face pressed deeper into your sloppy pussy. His fingers are now buried into the fat of your ass entirely, thumbs teasing the muscle of your hole and pushing against it as he keeps eating you out like dinner.

His tongue alternates between licking, sucking on your pussy and pushing against your asshole. He can taste the sweetness of your juices in his mouth, making him hum and whine. 

The pleasure is mind-blowing and you don’t even know how much time has passed before you start to feel the warmth pooling in your stomach, your pussy clenching around air. Peter must have felt it too as he lowers his mouth to your clit just to suck on it. You gasp, mouth wide open as his tongue flicks against your sensitive bud, bringing you closer to your orgasm.

He then pressed the flat of his tongue against your slick clit, rubbing it until your thighs were shaking. You squirmed onto the desk, Peter hissing quietly as your fingers pulled onto his hair once more; but it seemed like neither of you cared. Pleasure coursed through you and you moaned loudly, head thrown to the ceiling when your climax started.

“M’coming! Oh shit, I’m coming!” You cried out, and Peter didn’t stop even as your thighs shook and knees buckled. You held yourself onto the desk, biting down on your lips harshly as Peter’s tongue kept circling your sensitive clit. 

You genuinely thought he would pull away and move on with this; but no. His strong hands left your asscheeks and you heard some ruffling behind, all fast and impatient. You didn’t have time to realize his movements before he pushed two fingers inside your sloppy pussy, making you gasp loudly and hold onto the desk with one hand.

A quick look behind your shoulder to see that he had pushed his suit down to his hips, revealing strong muscles and bulging biceps.

Veins ran along his forearms, his pectorals bounced as he started to finger you through your orgasm. “P-Peter, fuck!” You cried out as he snapped his fingers deep inside your pussy, pressing against your g-spot like he already knew where it was.

Your thighs shook even more due to the overstimulation, your muscles contracted and you pulled harder on his hair. He groaned, leaning his face just to lick your asshole like he had done before. His wet mouth left kisses around, his fingers pounding your cunt and creating loud squelching noises as your vaginal fluids leaked from your hole. You whined, head dizzy from the on-going orgasm, your body squirming onto the desk as Peter kept eating you out at the same time.

But it was when his lips closed onto your clit again that you really felt it; the knot breaking inside your body. You cried out, back arching and knees buckling. “Peter! I’m going to—Shit, I can’t stop it!” You warned but it was too late and you ended up squirting in his mouth; coating him in your juices as he kept finger-fucking you deeply. The tip of his fingers rubbed your g-spot repeatedly, not giving you an ounce of peace.

Juices flowed out of you, making a mess of both his face and fingers and then, the floor. Peter didn’t seem to care as he lapped at your cunt, trying to get as much juices he could in his mouth. The pace of his fingers slowed down when he saw your upper body pressed onto his desk and when your orgasm was over, he slowly pulled his digits out of you and licked his fingers clean.

You felt dizzy and time passed differently as Peter was suddenly next to you, one hand caressing your back gently. “Are you alright? Did I push you too far?” He asked and you pressed your palms flat onto the desk to lift yourself up. “No… No, you didn’t. Just—I don’t remember the last time I came so hard.” You joked, turning around to press your butt onto the desk, hands holding the edge of it.

Your legs were shaking; you thought you would fall over if you let go of the desk. 

Peter hummed as he walked in front of you, so close that you felt the warmth of his body. It’s only then that you let your eyes travel around; seeing the strong biceps, the veins, the broad shoulders. Did he know how hot he was right now? All flushed and puppy-like, begging for sex. His hands moved to your hips, his clothed hard cock pressed against your thigh and you cursed at the size of him.

“Can we do more? Please, I just… I can’t get you out of my head.” He whined, grinding his cock against you, breath hitching each time his hips thrusted upward. “You can’t get me out of your head? Uh, are you sure? You have been doing nothing but ignoring me since you moved into the building.” You voiced, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

Peter shook his head at that. “I just—I didn’t know how to talk to you. I’m like… super awkward. But I thought about you all the time.” He said and you hummed, the tiniest of mocking in your tone. “Yeah? You touched yourself about me, I heard?” The words leaving your mouth reminded him of what he had said earlier and his cheeks flushed red. Peter hissed as his hips faltered against your thigh. 

He didn’t have time to justify himself before you spoke again. “Show me.” His head shot up and his big brown eyes locked onto your orbs. “What—? Show you…?” You nodded, moving your hands to his pectorals just to push him slightly away. “Show me how you touch yourself thinking about me. I want to see it.” 

He didn’t reply, but he actually didn't need to. The embarrassment on his face was enough to convey all he was feeling at that moment. 

One of his hands lowered to the bunched up fabric of his suit that rested on his hip and in one movement, he freed his aching cock. You couldn’t help yourself and bit down on your lips at the view of it; tip angry red and leaking pre-cum in pearly translucent beads, veins throbbing all along the length and a girth that made you salivate. Peter sighed as his hand wrapped around the base.

His eyes looked up at you again, you were already focused on what he was doing. He moved his hand, making his hard cock slap against his lower-stomach, his balls following the movement. God, you wanted him in your mouth—but decided that you wanted him to touch himself first.

“God, I can’t believe I’m doing this in front of you but I just can’t stop myself.” He whined, slowly starting to jerk himself. You moved, bending over so your head was right above his cock. Peter gasped as you spoke. “Wait, let me—” You didn’t finish, only spit directly into his cock; the glob of saliva hitting his length and made him twitch.

“Fuck, fuck…” He whined and immediately ran his hand to coat his cock with your saliva.

“Thank you, thank you… Yes, fuck, it feels so much better…” He cried out quietly, using his palm to rub his mushroom head and smearing his pre-cum around. You almost teased him for the fact that his hips mindlessly thrusted forward into his hand, but he seemed genuinely needy like he couldn’t help himself at all. 

Slick noises echoed in the room as Peter squeezed his cock and pumped it faster, leaving himself breathless and moaning your name. Warmth pooled in your lower belly again, pussy clenching around air just at the view you had of him; how pathetic he looked and yet, so beautiful. “Feels so good… It feels so fuckin’ good.” You heard him say, his palm rolling on top of his bulbous head, teasing his slit with his thumb.

Peter teased himself by stopping his hand at his base, letting his shaft twitch in his hold while quietly crying out for you. Your teeth bit down on your bottom lip and your thighs clenched as you watched him; his thumb rubbing down along his length and onto the veins there before rolling around his mushroom tip.

Then, he started to pump it back, only getting the tip in his warm palm. “Nghgg! Ah, it feels so good…” He said, eyebrows furrowed and body almost folding forward with how he was edging himself.

His free hand moved to his balls to fondle them gently, his thumb pressing against the skin and pulled down which made him moan. He moved the hand to his cock to meet the first one and started to twirl them with a strong grip, wet noises echoing from this action.

Pre-cum leaked from his tip, running down his length to finish at his base. His balls slapped down his thighs each time he jerked himself, creating a cacophony of skin-slapping-skin noises in the apartment. The thought of having him in your mouth resonated again and this time, you acted up on the thought. “Peter, I want to suck you off.” The sudden words made him groan loudly, his eyes looking up at you once more.

“Please! Please, I want you to take care of me… I want to have my cock inside your mouth.” He whined and you didn’t lose a second before falling to your knees in front of him. He kept jerking himself up, and toward your face now, but you pushed his hand away. His cock throbbed at the sudden lack of attention and Peter hissed like he had been denied his orgasm which was perhaps the case.

You wrapped your own hand at the base, whistling. “You’re so big. Think I can take it all in my mouth?” You asked but it was more rhetorical than anything. Peter didn’t have time to reply before you wrapped your lips around his bulbous head and a gasp left him, his back straightened immediately at the sensation of your warm tongue against his sensitive tip. 

A hum left your mouth and vibrated against his mushroom head, his cock heavy against your tongue. He truly was big, but deep down, you knew it wouldn’t be hard to take him all.

You slowly started to suck on him, humming and rolling your tongue around his girth. Peter moaned, his eyebrows furrowing as his brown eyes focused down on you and your pretty face. You seemed to enjoy yourself, licking him like a lollipop, circling his slit with the tip of your tongue.

Once you got the hang of it, you pushed more of his fat cock inside your mouth, taking more than half of it. A gasp left Peter’s mouth, one of his hands mindlessly slipped through your hair.

The hand you had at his base started to jerk him off for now, letting your throat adjust before anything else. Your tongue twirled around, pressing against veins and pushing onto his length while bobbing slowly. Your cheeks hollowed, slurping noises echoing in the room as you made a mess. Saliva leaked from the corner of your lips, dripping all the way down to your chin and throat which made the slurping noise of your mouth even louder than they were before.

Peter’s hand in your hair tightened as you took even more of him, his bulbous tip hitting the back of your throat, creating a gagging sound out of you. You forced yourself to stay right where you were, pushing your nose against his base and choking on his cock. “F—Oh, God! Mmfuuck!” Peter groaned and both your hands moved to his thighs, squeezing the strong muscles in your palms.

A cough left your throat, making you gag more onto his shaft and this time, you had to pull away. A thick thread of saliva connected your lips to his mushroom head and the view of it made the spider-like man curse under his breath; his hips mindlessly thrusting toward your face.

“Please, take it back in your mouth… It hurts so bad.” Peter groans at you, one of your hands wrapping around his throbbing cock in reply, smudging your saliva onto his length and teasing his tip.

“It hurts? You’re too hard, that’s why.” The words left your mouth before you pushed his shaft past your lips again, rolling your tongue around his girth. Your jaw slacked as much as it could, his tip pushing past your throat until you were gagging once more. Peter didn’t lose a second before his hand pressed in the back of your head to get you closer so your nose would be pushed against his base. 

Both your hands lifted up in surprise and you held onto his hips, eyes wide as you felt his heavy cock on your tongue and down your throat. You coughed, saliva dripping from the corners of your lips and to your chin, just to slick his balls. Peter whined, his hips giving quick thrusts toward your face which only pushed his cock deeper inside your mouth and made you choke.

“I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry—you look so pretty like that… Is that okay?” He asked and you only looked up at his face to see tears pooling in his eyes, his cheeks red and a layer of sweat on his forehead. He seemed so out of it, so needy and pathetic.

Unable to reply due to the shaft in your mouth, you blinked at him and he understood the action. It was harder to breathe through your nose but you made it work, going as far as trying to stick your tongue out to lick his sensitive balls before gagging again.

His bulbous tip leaked pre-cum directly down your throat and you felt the salty substance on your taste buds, making you hum. The vibration made Peter’s cock twitching inside your mouth and he moaned. There was no warning when he started to thrust his cock in your mouth, pulling until the tip was on your tongue and then, back down your throat.

You choked on him, your muscles contracting around his shaft which only made him moan louder.

Your fingers tugged on the Spider-Man suit that was still pooling at his hips, you desperately tried to hold yourself as he fucked your face. His balls slapped against your chin, sticky due to the amount of saliva that was dripping from your mouth and toward your covered chest. 

Peter groaned, his grip in your hair becoming harsh while he pushed his shaft down your throat once more. Loud slurping noises mixed with gagging were heard in the room, before it was filled with muffled complaints as Peter made you deepthroat him again and so suddenly, having your nose pressed to his base; you smelled the slight musk and sweat from his skin.

Your eyes were wet with tears, face a mess of fluids but neither of you seemed to care about that. The surplus of saliva bubbled out of your mouth as you gagged, skin-slapping-skin echoing in your ears as Peter’s ballsack hit your chin repeatedly. Slurping and groans left your throat too and vibrated against Peter’s shaft.

“Mghmgg! Your throat feels so good, it’s so tight…” Peter whined to you and all you could do in answer was to roll your tongue around his girth, pressing against his throbbing veins. At that, he gasped, his body almost folding forward. “I’m going to come if you do that!” He said but you didn’t listen and did it again, pressing harder this time. A louder gasp left his mouth and he pulled away from your mouth in a wet, loud pop! noise.

There was so much saliva dripping from your chin, mixing with your tears and the water from your nose. You licked your lips, fingers wiping the drool away or at least, the maximum you could. It was harder to swallow now but you did your best and took a deep breath right after. 

Peter’s cock twitched in the air, slapping his lower-stomach before standing proud in front of your eyes. It was glistening with pre-cum and saliva, the tip angry red from all the attention it had gotten. It’s only then that you realized how bad your throat was hurting and you coughed, trying to swallow again.

“Did I hurt you? I’m—I’m so sorry, shit.” He cursed, but you shook your head at him. “No! No, you didn’t… I liked that, so don’t panic.” You immediately said, one of your hands lifting to his wet cock.

His hips thrusted toward your hand when you jerked him off once more. “Shit! I’m not going to last… Feels so good…” He moaned as you rubbed your palm on top of his slick mushroom head, teasing his slit. Both his hands now ran through your hair as you leaned your face closer just to suck on his balls. “Fuck! Oh, God, yes… Yes!” Peter voiced as your tongue licked his ballsack and around before teasing the skin right under his balls.

His heavy balls ended up resting on your nose as you sucked them off, pressing kisses here and there all while your hand kept jerking him off. You mixed fast and slow paces, squeezing him from time to time and all Peter could do was moan your name, thighs shaking.

Your tongue pressed flat against the skin of his ball, licking a stripe all the way to his base and you felt his shaft throb in your hand. His hips jerked uncoordinatedly with whines leaving his mouth so you understood that he was close. “You’re going to come?” You asked, looking up at his red face. He nodded, mouth wide open to let pleasure noises escape.

 Your face moved then, just to stay right in front of his aching cock. You pumped your hand only a few more times before Peter came and you opened your mouth on purpose. You gasped even though you were waiting for it; there was so much semen.

The thick substance hit your tongue as Peter cried out, his cock twitching in your hand as you kept jerking him off to milk him dry. “Please! Yes, it feels so good… Ah, fuck! Don’t stop!” Most of the semen got in your mouth or on your face.

His thighs shook as the latest drop hit the floor and he was breathless. You panted too, slowly pulling your hand away from his cock just to realize he was still rock-hard. You licked your lips, tasting him on your tongue before wiping a fat amount of semen on your fingers to lick them clean before swallowing it all. Peter looked at you as you did so, his cock twitching toward his stomach, begging for more.

“I need to get inside you.” He suddenly said, his strong arms moving to pull you up on your feet and surprise showed on your face at the strength he showed. His biceps bulged, veins running along his forearms that begged to be bit and sucked on. Your thoughts were suddenly broken when Peter shot his webs around your back to under your armpits and toward the ceiling.

“Peter—!” You shouted when your feet left the ground and you were a few inches above the wooden floor of his apartment.

Your eyes widened when more webs shot out just to bend your legs and tie them like bondage ropes toward your chest with your calves pressed to the back of your thighs. Another thick thread of web rolled around your hips and attached itself to the ceiling for more support. The latest webs went for your wrists and tied them like handcuffs to the threads already standing above you, making you unable to touch Peter anymore.

“Peter—ah!” His strong hands caressed the skin of your legs and up to your thighs just to part them wider than they already were due to the position he put you in. “You look so fuckin’ pretty like that… You’re so warm and so sweet. My cock is so hard and I—I have to get inside you… Please?” He whined all while his fingers brushed to your inner-thighs, purposely missing your sloppy cunt and traveled to your clothed stomach. 

You whined at his words, trying your best to roll your hips but it only made your entire body swing in the air. It seemed to be an enough reply for Peter and his hands stopped at your breasts before he suddenly tore the fabric of your nightgown apart, freeing your bouncing tits. 

A gasp left your mouth but it was soon eaten by moans as warm digits rolled around your nipples, hardening them due to the sensitivity. “God, I—It feels so good, Peter.” You couldn’t help but say, head rolling in the air just to end toward the ceiling. “You’re so pretty. So, so pretty. I can’t stop playing with your body.” He whined, his index fingers moving to flick at your nipples just to hear more moans escaping your mouth.

Your back arched to push your tits toward his hands and he listened to the way your body replied, now groping your breasts with his full hands. Peter squeezed the fat, moved his hands to your underboobs just to make them bounce and jiggle. Thumbs pressed down onto your perky buds before caressing your areolas.

Your thoughts were in shambles with how much attention Peter was giving to your tits and you felt your cunt clench around nothing, more wetness pooling at your hole.

You realized Peter was able to multitask when one of his hands left your tit just to lower between your thighs. Half-expecting him to touch your cunt, a whine left your mouth when his index finger circled around your asshole, pressing against the muscle to tease it. It was already slick from your wetness dripping there and therefore, Peter had no difficulty pushing the tip of his finger inside.

Your entrance clenched at the intrusion and a moan escaped you as he curled his digit against your velvety wall just to rub it and the mix of this and the attention he was giving to your chest was mindblowing.

His index and thumb pinched one of your nipples and tugged on it and the fat of your chest jiggled as he let go.

Then, his hand moved to his length and you thought he was going to jerk himself off for the second time but no. A gasp left you when his bulbous tip suddenly slapped down onto your sensitive clit at the same time his finger pumped inside your asshole. “Ah! Mhhpf!” You whined and he did it again, teasing your bud of nerves with his leaking mushroom head, smearing his pre-cum to your already soaked cunt. The slapping of his cock against your pussy made your body jerk up each time and your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure.

Wet noises echoed in the room when his shaft slapped your slick and dripping cunt once more and he ground himself against your folds, parting them with his tip. Moans left his mouth before he closed the distance with your tits and started to suck on one of your nipples. You gasped, eyes wide as he rubbed himself against your pussy and his tip rubbed your clit a few times, his finger slowing the pace inside your asshole.

The stimulation was suddenly over as Peter took a step backwards just to look at you; face shining with sweat, nightgown tore open and pussy full to his view, leaking wetness. His digit had felt an empty feeling inside you now.

Your eyes shifted to look at him and you realized he was in the same state as you were, if not more disheveled. His cheeks were red, his eyes were teary, he was sweating and God, his cock was still rock-hard and throbbing. His hands moved to your bent knees to stop your body from swinging around before speaking.

“I don’t… I don’t have a condom on me.” The little information almost made you giggle but you stopped yourself and shrugged. “I’m on the pill, it’s alright.” But Peter shook his head immediately and winced. “No—I told you something is going on with me and… and it’s mating season for spiders so I don’t want to take the risk.” Well, at least he was mindful.

You didn’t even have to reply because it seemed like Peter had found the solution to his own problem. His head lowered to his twitching cock then, to his wrist and back to his cock. You groaned at the view of his web shooting toward his shaft and enveloping it in a thick condom-like protection.

Peter moaned at the feeling, his length visibly twitching upward like begging for attention. 

He wobbled like a baby deer closer to your tied and swinging body, one of his strong hands grabbing the thread from around your hips and the other wrapped around the base of his cock. Once more, he slapped it against your pussy which made you gasp; it felt good and so much warmer than before. 

“Your pussy is calling for me… I want to be inside it.” He whined and his eyes lifted up to your face so you nodded at him. 

Peter rubbed his fat cock down between your folds, parting them and smearing your wetness around his makeshift condom for lubrication. Once his bulbous head was near your entrance, you rolled your hips which was easier now that Peter was holding the swing.

“Please, do it… Push inside, Peter, fill me up.” You said in a labored voice, feeling yourself getting needy. His eyebrows furrowed but he didn’t lose a second before listening to you, his tip now pressing against your hole.

Slowly, he pushed inside, making you gasp loudly. Your arms tugged on the web-restaint but with no consequences, the slightest burning sensation coursing through your cunt as Peter stretched you inch by inch. “So tight—Shit, you’re so tight and warm… I can feel you even through the webs.” He said, eyes watching as his cock disappeared inside your pussy.

You didn’t reply, not immediately, because pleasure mixed with little pain and you felt dizzy for a second. His mushroom tip pressed inside you to get even deeper and your gummy walls kissed his length, keeping it warm and snuggled. Your mouth fell wide open when he was finally buried inside all the way in, his base sticking to your cunt. “Mghhmg, fuck…” You cursed quietly.

“Are you alright? Does—Does it hurt?” Peter asked and you shook your head. “No, no… The webs are just weird but it doesn’t hurt at all. Just give me a second.” He hummed at your words, now both his hands gripping the rope-like web from around your hips. You took a deep breath, pussy pulsating from the size of his cock and you felt him throb inside you. Your toes curled already and your velvety walls clenched for a second before they relaxed completely. 

“Go on, you can move.” You voiced after a short minute and it seemed like Peter was only waiting for those words because he did, in fact, immediately move. A whine felt you as his hips pulled backwards just to snap against yours in a fast and hard single thrust.

He seemed to test the water and when he realized you didn’t mind how he moved, he kept going. 

Skin-slapping-skin noises echoed in the room and vibrated against the walls as soon as Peter started fucking you. Your body swung back and forth onto his cock as he quite literally used the threads of webs to move you around and bury himself deep inside you. Moans left your throat unapologetically and you were louder than expected; pleasure coursed through you from head to toes.

“Peter! Peter, ah… Keep going!” You cried out, words babbled due to the position and pace of his thrusts.

Peter groaned at those words, his hips snapping against your own which made his cock stretch your cunt open with each thrust, your gummy walls welcoming him in its sloppy warmth. 

Your juices made your pussy glisten and slick your inner-thighs but also Peter’s base. It coated his balls, making them stick to your ass as he pressed onto you. He seemed focused; eyebrows furrowed and biting down on his bottom lip (which didn’t stop the moans and whimpers from escaping his throat).

Once more, your arms tugged on the web-restraits which didn’t do anything to get you out of them—but it was a nice try. Peter fastened his pace suddenly which made you gasp and cry out to him.

“Oh my God! Oh my God, yes! Keep going, please!” You said, head rolling to the ceiling once more, hips trying to roll and meet Peter’s cock to bury it deeper inside you. You didn’t even realize how aching your legs were in that bondage position or how much your back was hurting from being in the air—all you focused on was how Peter fucked you.

“So tight, you’re so tight… I love being inside you! I want to be inside you all the time!” He said and the words half made sense due to pleasure running in your brain at that moment. His cock twitched in the warm confines, snapping deeper and deeper with each thrust he gave you; bulbous head almost kissing your cervix now. “You have the best pussy ever… I don’t… I want to keep using it forever!” He whined and you swore he only said those things because of how he physically felt.

His biceps bulged as he swung your body back and forth on his cock, squelching noises created by your sloppy cunt were louder now. There was so much wetness pooling at your hole and mixing with the creamy white ring around his protected girth. You both were a mess now but it seemed like Peter wasn’t done stimulating you or using you.

His upper-body leaned forward to your chest and without any warning, he wrapped his lips around one of your nipples. “Peter!” You cried out, a raw moan leaving your mouth as he rolled his tongue around the perky bud, his teeth nibbling at your skin but overall, he sucked like you were a lollipop.

Your pussy clenched around his fat cock, squeezing him inside you at the stimulation of your chest. The angle changed with how Peter was laying on top of you and his base snapped against your cunt, your clit being rubbed each time.

He didn’t leave your nipples at all, only going back and forth with the left and right for what seemed to be hours; he sucked, licked, rolled his tongue around before letting the buds leave his mouth in wet noises. His saliva coated your chest and dripped to your sideboobs. “You’re so good… So good to me. Your pussy fits so well around my cock and… And you’re so soft and warm.” He said after a moment of silence broken by his pelvis snapping against yours.

“You fuck me so good, Peter, please don’t stop!” You whined and a whimper left his mouth like being praised did something to him. For your own entertainment, you spoke again. “You’re so good to me, aren’t you? Fucking me so well… Your cock fits so perfectly inside me.” That time, you felt him throb inside you and his pace—already maddening—fastened. Your mouth gasped and your eyes widened in surprise as his hips rutted against yours, your clit being hit by his pelvis. 

“M’going to make you come so hard, I promise… I’ll be so fucking good to you!” He groaned, his hands moving to grab the fat of your hips directly to snap you on his cock.

He only needed a few seconds to get his repair before one strong hand sneaked between your open legs. “Fuck, feels so good! Keep going, Peter, make me come!” You cried as his bulbous head rubbed your g-spot each time he jerked his cock back inside you, glistening with all your vaginal fluids. 

Peter’s thumb started to tease your clit and smear your wetness all around it so it would become even slicker than it was. Only then, he rubbed it, drawing circles around that matched the pace of his thrusts; it was exactly what you needed to squirm in the air, toes curling as pleasure ran through your warm body.

“Shit! Yes… Fuck me, oh my God!” You babbled nonsense, your muscles aching as you arched your back. Peter groaned, his eyes lowering to your leaking cunt and how much of a mess you were making on his covered cock. His balls slapped your ass, tightening and shrinking towards his shaft as pleasure also increased for him, his mushroom head squeezed by your gummy, wet walls. 

His hand moved and you gasped loudly as he slapped your cunt, fingers hitting your sensitive clit. “I want… I want you to come on my cock… Please, let me make you come.” He said, cursing quietly in his breath. “Fuck, you’re so good… Such a good girl, squeezing my cock so well.” 

He slapped your cunt against and your hips jerked upward which made his tip hit directly onto your g-spot. You groaned, thoughts becoming all dizzy due to the sudden amount of pleasure you were feeling. Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes and you nodded at him. “Make me come! Make me come on your cock, Peter!” His digits fell down on your clit for the third time and your pussy clenched, thighs trying to close but it wouldn’t happen.

Peter focused back on rubbing your bud of nerves, hitting your special spot repeatedly now. Your toes curled even harder, your arms tugged on the restraints as you felt your orgasm showing the tip of its nose. “Coming! Coming! Fuck, mghhpg!” You cried, tears rolling down your cheeks as your whole body squirmed and your muscles contracted.

Peter groaned, thumb still rubbing your slick clit with the same pace he was thrusting inside you with. Warmth flowed to your lower-belly and another gasp left your mouth.

“Oh shit, Peter! I’m—I’m going to squirt again!” You voiced and it only made him double his efforts. “I want to see that, let me see you squirt on my cock this time.” 

You didn’t have time to warn him before it flowed out of you; squirt gushed around and hit Peter’s pelvis and thighs just to finish its course on his wooden floor. He moaned at the warmth of it against his skin, his cock still thrusting inside you to keep the pleasure going which made the juices flow stronger with no end. Your muscles contracted, body shaking as a long moan left your mouth. “Ah, yes! You’re so pretty, so good…” Peter praised as more squirt left your pussy before the rest of it trickled from your cunt to the ground.

But Peter didn’t stop.

He kept jerking his hips against yours, searching for his own orgasm and therefore, overstimulating you. You cried, hips rolling and pussy pulsating. “Too much—! Fuck, Peter, please!” You begged and he whimpered. “I know, I—Shit, I can feel it!” His whole body was shaking, his cock throbbing inside you as it stretched you open. The pleasure was mind-blowing and you lost track of time for a minute or so while being used by Peter.

His body straightened as he cursed, his eyebrows furrowing and you saw his biceps bulging. “I’m coming! Oh, mhfffuck! Coming!” He cried out with a whiny voice, his jaw dropping just for a whimper to escape it. His body folded forward and against yours when he stopped moving, his shaft throbbing inside your pussy when he came inside the makeshift condom.

You both took a deep breath, silence taking over the room which was only broken by panting and quiet curses.

Peter lifted his head to look at you; all sweaty and red in the face. “I just can’t believe it happened… I—I’m so sorry. Oh my God, I want to die right now.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at the words leaving his mouth, a hiss escaping you when he gently pulled away and his cock slipped out of your cunt. There was a thick line of vaginal fluid attached to his tip, one that he ignored. His hands undid the webs that held you up to the ceiling carefully, making sure to help you down.

“Don’t apologize. I mean… I wouldn’t have stayed if I didn’t want this to happen.” You replied to him, voice raw and muscles aching as your feet touched the floor again. You wiggled your toes, feeling the blood rushing to them.

Peter was squirming on his feet too, but mostly from embarrassment. “Yeah, but—I don’t know what happened to me and it’s mating season for spiders—I said that already.” He voiced again but you only tilted now.

“So you like… just made me your spider-wife or something?” He gasped like you had hit him, his hands frantically tucking himself back down the suit.

“No! No… I don’t think so? I don’t know. It just happened to me for the first time.” He moved around to his desk, grabbing a few tissues before turning around to you. “Do you want to take a shower? You want something to eat? I can make eggs.” You laughed, taking the tissues from his hand to wipe yourself clean (as much as you could). Throwing the sticky paper in his bin, you looked up at him. “Where’s your bed? I need sleep right now.”

His eyebrows raised up and he pointed to the back of the room with his thumb. “There. I can clean around while you nap.”

One of your hands shot up to grab his wrist and you pulled him with you while walking toward the space he had pointed at. “No, after what you just did to me, I think I deserve some cuddles. My legs are literally wobbly right now.” Peter hummed, wrapping one arm around your waist while walking you to the bed.

“Cuddles? I can do cuddles. I love cuddles.” He said before you both fell down onto the mattress, laying pressed to each other. His face moved to nuzzle your neck, his torso covering your bare chest while his hands went to your nape, caressing it gently. “I should ask you on a date now.”

“Oh yeah, you totally should.”

“M-Mr. Stark!” Peter stammers, trying to recover from his mistake. “What’s up?” He can practically hear Tony rolling his eyes. “Nice try, kid, but I saw you hung up on me. Multiple times, actually.” “Well, I-” “Ah, ah! No excuses. The adult is talking now,” Tony tuts, and Peter swears he could hear the sound of music in the background. “Why are you calling, Mr. Stark?” Peter asks, rubbing his brow and checking his alarm clock. 12:30 AM, it reads. “And so late. Normally you just get Happy to deal with me.”

Tony lets out a heavy sigh, expressing an exhaustion he rarely showed. “I would’ve had Happy call you if it was something on your level. What I’m asking you to do now isn’t that.” Peter’s eyes go wide in anticipation. Could this be it? Could this be another mission, another chance to join the Avengers? Another chance to prove himself to Mr. Stark? “Whatever you’ve got for me, I can handle, Mr. Stark,” Peter says with a newly reignited determination. He hears Tony pause for a second on the other line and smack his lips. “Well, aren’t you peppy today?” Tony remarks dryly before returning to seriousness. “Okay, here’s the deal, Parker. What I’m asking you to do is-” Solve a conspiracy? Fight an alien?? Go to Asgard??? “-pick up my kid from a frat party.” All of Peter’s excitement falls flat. “What?” “You heard me, Parker. You need to go get them from that mosh pit of disgustingness and degeneracy and bring them home.” Oh. Tony was not joking. “Why can’t you get them? Aren’t you their dad?” Peter can’t help but ask, still in disbelief at the request. Tony lets out an exasperated groan. “First of all, I’m on vacation with Pepper in Singapore,” Tony retorts, moving his phone away from his ear so Peter could hear the blasting music from the club he was at. “Second of all, aren’t you their friend? I see the googly eyes you give them. You’re like a helpless puppy; I’m surprised you didn’t bark at the opportunity to do this for me.” Peter’s ears burn red. “I don’t know how true that is, Mr. Stark, and aren’t you just at a party too-” “Uh-uh!” Tony snaps. “This is the part where you zip it and agree to go rescue my kid! Who do you think designed that high-tech leotard you swing in?” Peter debates his choices for the night as he stares at the Spider-Man mask on his pillow. On one hand, Lego Star Wars AT-AT. On the other hand, you. You could be all alone in an unfamiliar place surrounded by unfamiliar people. Unsafe. He didn’t like that idea. Tonight, he chooses responsibility over his own desires, as Spider-Man always does. “Alright,” Peter yields, setting the Lego box down. “I’ll get them. Just let me know where they are.” “Oh, perfect,” Tony hums, satisfied with his victory. “I’ve already sent you their location. They’re at some frat-owned brownstone.” Peter nods, holding his phone to his ear with his shoulder as he prepares to suit up. “Okay, I’ll call them to let them know I’m coming-” “Their phone is at home.” Tony cuts him off. A pause. The gears in Peter’s head turn. “Then how are you tracking them?” Another pause. This one, longer. Then realization hits. “Oh, my god. You put a tracker on your kid?!” “I put trackers on everyone, Parker,” Tony answers, unfazed. “Are you going to get them, or not?” “Yeah, yeah, I’m going,” Peter tries not to get irritated with Tony’s nagging. “No funny business!” Tony warns. “I know, I won’t-” “And no drinking! You are swinging them back sober!” After his last reminder, Tony hangs up, leaving Peter alone in the silence of his room. He checks his phone to see your location, a tiny green blip on a map. “I’m coming,” he whispers to the green blip- to you- before finishing suiting up and swinging to your rescue.

Peter makes quick work of arriving at the brownstone, carefully crawling around the fire escape window to see if he could spot you. He brought his backpack with him, stuffed full with electrolyte-boosted water for you and a change of civilian clothes for him. His genius plan is to change and sneak into the party as Peter and swing you back home as Spider-Man. Even with his heightened senses, Peter can barely gauge what’s going on inside the brownstone. It’s filled with colorful lights and bass blasting so loud the whole building shakes. He leans closer to the window, hoping to find you in the packed crowd, but he finds someone else first. Some guy, holding a red solo cup and wearing a backwards snapback, stares at Peter with his jaw dropped. “Spider-Man?” Peter sees the guy mouth in shock. Shit. He’d been spotted. Without hesitation, the guy opens the window, a wide, drunk grin on his face. “Holy fuck,” he slurs in amazement, gaping at Peter in his suit. “I’m just here for a friend,” Peter jumps down from the wall, raising his hands in surrender. “Can you tell me if you’ve seen-” “YO, SPIDER-MAN IS HERE!” the guy screams back to the rest of the party before Peter can finish his question. Peter doesn’t even get the chance to protest before a crowd of tipsy partygoers forms in front of him. The drunk guy grabs his wrist, pulling on it and forcing him to come inside. As expected, Peter is getting swarmed. People shower him with compliments, insults, and everything in between as he pushes through the crowd, murmuring excuses and still searching for you. “Spider-Man, you’re amazing-” “Spidey, do a shot with us!” “Spider-Man, you’re so fucking hot-” All of the voices around Peter clammer into one, the combination with the booming music making his enhanced senses overreact ever so slightly. But then he hears something familiar. A voice that breaks through the chaos until it’s all he can hear. He recognizes it. It’s you. With your voice as his guiding light, Peter finally finds you in the kitchen of the brownstone. You’re dressed in an outfit that Tony would complain “leaves little to the imagination” and sipping a solo cup, clearly engrossed in whatever conversation you were having with the girl next to you. The closer he gets, the louder he can hear you and the girl’s giggles and whispers. They abruptly stop as soon as he’s within earshot of your conversation. The girl, your friend Cindy, raises a brow at you and tilts her head towards something behind you. You turn and are met by Peter, hands folded and still wearing his backpack, patiently waiting for you. You give him a once-over, eyeing him up and down, before giving him the most belittling look he’s ever seen. “Nice costume,” you sneer, and Peter smells the alcohol on your breath. “It almost looks like the real thing.” You turn back to Cindy and burst into another fit of laughter, so loud you throw your head back. Cindy giggles along with you, but continues to watch Peter, a tempted smile on her lips. “Not a costume,” Peter retorts, already exhausted of this party. “I’m here to take you home; your dad sent me.”

Cindy eyes you suggestively and nudges you with a small “oooh!” You roll your eyes, taking another sip of your solo cup and whatever mystery jungle juice was inside. “Are you trying to roleplay with me now?” you question sardonically, your Stark sarcasm biting like bullets. “Sorry, but that’s not going to work.” Cindy laughs at your second jab, and Peter tries not to groan in frustration. There were already people watching the two of you, a small crowd forming around the kitchen. Wanting to get out of this party as soon as possible, Peter grabs your solo cup out of your hand. You open your mouth to make a fuss, but Peter’s already webbed it up on the kitchen cabinet behind you and out of reach. “Still don’t believe I’m the real thing?” Peter asks you, imitating your sly tone from before. You can only blink for a moment, a flick of something in your eyes, but then it’s gone again, and your attitude is back. “No,” you respond brattishly. “I don’t. And I’m not going home with someone pretending to be a hero.” That’s Peter’s last straw. Without another word, he grabs your wrist, dragging you away from Cindy, who only lets out another unhelpful “oooh!” The other party attendees notice as Spider-Man drags you behind him as you yell and protest, only drawing more attention to you. “Spidey and Stark are going to make out!” you hear someone croon. “Shut up!” you fire back, still trying to tug yourself out of Peter’s grasp, but he’s too strong. Before you know it, Peter has you in the bathroom, letting go of your wrist and slamming the door behind him. You whine, leaning against the cold tile wall. “If this is your way of flirting, it’s really unattractive,” you grumble as Peter fumbles with the door lock. Once he’s confirmed it’s shut, Peter turns back to you and calls your name. “Your dad wants me to take you home,” he repeats slowly, like it would get the words through your drunk mind. “Are you still trying to roleplay with me?” you smirk, mindlessly picking at your nail beds. Peter can only throw his hands up in the air, letting out an exasperated “what?!” and wildly gesturing towards himself and you, as if that would help. You just stare at him blankly, and it’s only then that Peter realizes you’re too far gone. With a heavy sigh, Peter rips off his mask and your glazed-over eyes finally, finally, light up in recognition. The sight of his familiar mousy curls, big brown eyes, and freckles has your whole demeanor lighting up. You stumble towards him, tackling him in a clumsy full-body hug. Peter holds you tight so you don’t fall, bracing your body against his. “Peterrrr!” you beam, burying your face in his shoulder. “I missed you.” “How much did you drink?” Peter tiredly questions, the smell of sickly sweet alcohol still clear on your breath. You just shrug, face still buried. “Enough,” is all you answer. “Enough,” Peter echoes. You lazily nod your head, taking in Peter’s familiar scent and sighing euphorically.

“You know,” Peter grumbles. “You can be really mean sometimes.” You pull away from his shoulder and give him a guilty pout. 

“‘M sorry,” you babble, and the look in your eyes almost makes Peter’s heart break. “I didn’t know it was you. Please don’t be mad.” Peter lifts you under your armpits to make you stand up straight. You fall forward like a ragdoll, face colliding with his chest. Peter huffs and pulls you back into a stabilizing embrace. “I’m not mad,” he explains as he rubs your back. “But I do have to get you out of this party before your dad kills us both.” At that, you let out a noise of objection, immediately prying yourself off Peter and moving to sit on the toilet instead. Your head droops into your hands as you fiercely shake your it. “I don’t wanna go,” you complain, voice muffled by your palms. “I wanna stay here with you.” “Well, what if I wanna go?” Peter suggests casually. Your head shoots back up at that, eyes wide. “Noo,” you whimper, and Peter thinks you might actually cry. “That’s even worse!”  Peter walks over to you and rubs your back. “Then let’s go together,” he proposes softly, warm gaze meeting your glassy one. When Peter still sees the hesitancy on your face, he pulls out his last card. “I’ll swing you home.” 

You perk up at that. You could never say no to a free swinging joyride, after all. “You’re so nice to me, Peter,” you slur with a drunken smile. “I like you so much.” Peter can’t help but crack a small smile back as he helps you back to your feet. You wrap your arms around his for support. “Yeah, well, I like you too.” Your smile only grows at that. “Hey, can you guys stop making out in there?!” a voice shouts from outside the bathroom, banging on the door. “I gotta piss!” “No!” you jeer back at the voice with a guffaw. Peter’s expression returns to seriousness. He really needed to get you out of here. Pulling his mask back on, he unlocks the bathroom door and leaves with you still clinging to his arm. He expertly weaves through the crowd and back to the fire escape. While he ignores everyone staring at the two of you, you only giggle and wave back at them, smugly holding onto Peter. Peter’s the first to jump out the window to the fire escape, giving you his hand to help you climb out. As soon as you’re outside, he slams the window shut, tight enough so no one could open it again.

The whole party presses up against the window, watching in disbelief as Spider-Man swings away into the night with you. (“That’s my friend!” Cindy shouts. Nobody seems to pay attention.)

Without music blasting your eardrums out or lights blinding your eyes, you slowly come back to your senses. “Peter,” you mumble as he swings with you on his arm. “Yeah?” he responds, shouting over the wind blowing past you. “I don’t feel good,” you moan, and Peter hears you retch. Quickly diverting his path to land on a roof, Peter places you back down on the ground. You shamble away from him and make another nauseating noise. Then you hurl up your stomach right in front of him. Peter is right at your side once you’re done, offering you one of the water bottles he’d packed and wiping the leftover vomit away from your lips. “You okay?” Peter asks you softly as you begin to sip on the water. “‘M feeling sick, Peter,” you whine in response. “And cold.” Your comment has Peter swiftly digging through his backpack again, pulling out an oversized t-shirt that reads “I SURVIVED MY TRIP TO NYC” with a yellow taxi cab on it. “Raise your arms,” Peter orders, and you listen for once. He slips the shirt over you, and your shivering slowly dissipates.

You sit with Peter on the roof for a few more minutes, sipping on your water and letting your stomach and body settle. After a bit, you let him know you can go again with a quiet “I’m ready”. Peter looks at you hesitantly. “You sure?” 

You nod. Peter chews on his lip, running through the logistics of leaving you alone at your apartment while you’re in this state. It’s not like either of your parents was in town to come if something happened. “You know what?” he decides as he lifts you back into his arms. “We’re going to swing to my place. I don’t want you to be by yourself tonight.” His change of plans has you letting out a weak whoop and sluggishly throwing your hands up in celebration. “Yay!” you cheer groggily. “I love May.” Peter just chuckles at that with a shake of his head, swinging back off the roof and into the night. He feels your breath tickle the nape of his neck as the skyline flies by and holds you just a little tighter.

Peter can already tell you’re fast asleep by the time he reaches his apartment. He climbs into the window, undetected, and moves you off his side and onto his bed. He carefully pulls the covers over your resting form so as not to wake you. You frown in your sleep at the loss of contact with him. Your action makes his lips curl up, the affection in his heart for you growing as he brushes your hair from your forehead. “Don’t worry, I’m here,” he whispers to you, hoping his words will reach you in your blissful sleep. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

When you wake up, you feel like Hulk hit you over the head. There’s a ringing pain in your head that makes you take a few seconds to figure out where you are. Not at the frat house. Not at your apartment. You sit up and look around the room you’re in, seeing a vintage computer sitting on a desk and a backpack hanging from the door. You look down at the unfamiliar graphic t-shirt you’re wearing, and right away know who it belongs to. Ah, you realize. You’re at Peter’s. As you try to replay your blurry account of the previous night, the sound of soft snoring draws your attention. You look down at the floor to see Peter sleeping there, curled up and in his pajamas. The sight makes you snort, just a little, and you reach down to wake him up with a poke to his cheek. Peter’s eyes quickly snap open. When he sees you’re awake, he rushes to sit up, face willed with worry. “Are you feeling alright? Still feeling sick?” he fusses over you, grabbing the painkillers and water bottle he’d left out for you so they’d be ready in the morning. You nod with a small grin. “Yeah, thanks to you,” you compliment as Peter places a pill in your hand. “There was no way I was making it home last night. I was basically at half-functionality.” Peter chuckles at that, sitting on his bed next to you. “You know, you had some pretty jerky things to say to me last night,” Peter lightly teases you as you take a swig of water to swallow the painkiller. “You didn’t even recognize me at first.” You blink at that, trying to remember anything from the party. All you can remember is getting extremely shit-faced with Cindy, and then it’s blank from there. Embarrassment was an emotion you rarely felt- but the idea of Peter seeing you wasted was enough to make your face heat up. “Sorry,” you mumble and stare at your lap, genuinely apologetic. “I tend to be mean when I’m drunk.” Peter shrugs his shoulders. “I mean, you said pretty nice things too,” he says, and you know he’s trying to egg you on. Your brow furrows. “Like what?” “You said that you liked me. A lot, actually,” Peter smirks playfully. 

Your face heats up even more. If only drunk you knew how to shut your mouth. “You wish, Peter,” you deny with a heavy huff that only has him laughing. “It’s true!” Peter insists, and you firmly shake your head, which only makes him laugh harder. “I should thank you, though,” you admit after Peter finishes snickering at your drunken actions of the previous night. “You came and got me.” You bump his shoulder with yours. “My hero.” Peter beams at you in reply, and you think that you’re so lucky to have him. After all, he’d always come for you, no matter how stupid or drunk or mean you were acting. He’d always be there, ready to come to your rescue. Truly, your hero. 

And maybe it was the leftover alcohol in your system, or your headache, or just your dumb heart that had you leaning over to Peter and placing a quick peck on his cheek. You hear Peter’s breath hitch at your gesture, and he looks at you in surprise, eyes as wide as Captain America’s shield. “Does this mean you do like me?” Peter asks, bewildered with a dopey grin. You pretend to think for a moment, tapping your chin. “Maybe,” is all you tell him after a moment. And that’s enough confirmation for him. 

You like him. The ringing of Peter’s phone takes his focus, and he stands to grab it. Seeing it’s your father calling (he’d finally saved the number), he instantly picks up. “Oh, hey Mr. Stark! I got them home safe from the party and-” “Um, yeah, care to explain why MY kid is at YOUR house, Parker? I swear, I am going to get Rhodey to War Machine you so hard that-” You and Peter wince at Tony’s yells. You were both going to have a lot of explaining to do.