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content.ᐟ 18+, stress-relief with your best friend! ꨄ︎; fwb!mark, porn no plot, handjob, orgasm denial, crying, begging . . .

MARK GRAYSON has been running on fumes lately.

between cecil breathing down his neck and the responsibility of having oliver around, he feels like he can't catch a break.

he's so wound up he feels like he might snap. which is exactly why he spends his rare moments of off time with his very best friend!

"shitshitshit!" the words break out of him in a high, desperate whimper. his head lolls back, eyes fluttering shut as your hands wrap around his length, jerking his flushed, aching dick with a merciless rhythm.

he looks gorgeous like this; hot tears running down his face from the sheer amount you've edged him, pink puffy kiss-swollen lips, and those big glossy puppy dog eyes you've always adored. can it get any better than this?

he's bucking into your hand, trying his best to listen to you telling him over and over again to stay still. "mark.." you coo at him, your hand slowing down a fraction, "stay still for me, okay?" he nods frantically at your request, but it's easier said than done :(

"m'sorry, i-" he's cut off by another whine as you speed up the strokes. his body jolts up and one of his hands grip the sheets next to him so hard his knuckles turn white, his other on your hip, not squeezing as tight because he knows he needs to control himself.

"please" he cries, "pleasepleaseplease lemme cum!" he looks up at you with big desperate eyes, "i'll be good, i'll be so good!" he promises. you can't count how many times he's said that in the past 10 minutes.

"yeah? you wanna cum, mark?" you tilt your head down at him with a patronizingly sweet smile, bringing your free hand up to move sweaty strands of his black hair away from his forehead tenderly.

he nods so fast you're afraid he'll get whiplash. he mumbles nonsense as you praise him and turn him to putty, though he doesn't realize it's nonsense in his fucked-out, dazed state.

once you finally give him the permission to cum, he's blabbering incoherent thank you's and arching his back off the bed as he pulses rhythmically and coats your hand in globs of warm sticky release.

viltrumites sure do cum a lot.

he's panting and recovering from his orgasm, falling into you and clutching the hem of your shirt. "thank you..." he mumbles,

"s'good.." you smile at his words, rubbing his back. and to no one's surprise, he's still somewhat hard.

maybe you two should do this more often.

not yet which is surprising ehhehehehe.

you waiting to pick up bakugou so you can go home together and you’re standing with his firefighter buddies. they’re chatting about the upcoming charity calendar and your eyes almost bulge out of your head.

“you do the naked calendar shoot? really?!”

kirishima chuckles, “we aren’t naked! just shirtless and oiled. close but never completely.”

“we do it yearly! we raise thousands for it.” deku says.

you look around for your boyfriend, in his office probably, “and katsuki? is he on it too?”

deku shakes his head, “he plans it and signs us up for it but never does it himself. we’ve asked!”

kirishima slowly smiles, grin rising up on his cheeks. “you could get him to do it though. i know you could.”

bakugou swings open the door, his bag over his shoulder, thick jacket on.

“why d’you look like you’re mad at me? what did i do?” he grumbles, ducking down to kiss your cheek.

you huff, “you didn’t tell me you do those naked calendars!”

he groans loudly, “why’d you guys tell her!”

“we aren’t actually naked just—,”

“‘cause now you’re gonna join us!”

you pout, genuinely a little upset, “are you keeping secrets from me? why?”

he drops his bag to the ground, dragging you into his chest. “‘course i’m not.”

but as he’s hugging you, he’s mouthing curses to his friends.

“you’re gonna make me do the calendar and i don’t wanna.” he almost sounds like he’s about to stomp his foot, have a little tantrum.

you look up at him, big pretty smile that makes him weak in the knees. “you have to do it this year. you half naked surrounded by pumpkins. you with a santa hat on your dick. you with bunnies for the spring!”

all three men look at you with wide eyes, how you’ve come up with ideas so quickly. “ghost costume but there’s a bump at your dicks under the sheet—,”

“this isn’t a porn calendar.”

“no but it’s for charity! sex sells and you, baby,” you drag him down to you by the chin, three kisses to his lips that has him chasing you right after, “are sexy.”

bakugou bites down on his bottom lip. a growl fighting its way out of his throat. looking at you in a way his friends have never seen. half backed into a corner but completely and utterly into you. “i don’t wanna do it.”

“for me? maybe just a calendar shoot that i keep.”

deku gasps, “we’ll get more sales with you involved kacchan!”

“imagine all the…,” you turn to deku, “what’s the charity for?”

“animal shelter nearby!”

“imagine all the kitties and doggies having better lives, all from flashing your chest,” you run your hand down his chest for emphasis and bakugou flings his head back in a groan.

“fine.”

“what’s that?”

“fine!”

you squeal, spinning around and bumping your hip with his. “got him on board!”

“knew you would yn.”

“that was easier than i thought.”

bakugou rolls his eyes, pulling your back into his chest, “scrap all the ideas involving my dick.”

clark kent x plus-size reader

Clark has always been weird, not in the typical way like nerdy or a freak. Though he is nerdy sometimes. No Clark is a different kind of weird. It's weird that since the first time you met him he showed you nothing but kindness. It's weird that he was a jock but didn't make fun of you or call you names. Its weird that he chose to be your friend even if you have nothing in common and he was way to attractive to even be seen next to. It's even weirder that he asked you out, after three months of friendship where you spent the whole time waiting for the other shoe to drop and find out it was all one big joke.

The shoe never dropped. Even after the date where you dressed as nice as you can, the dress you only wear on special occasions finally seeing the light of day. Clark showed up to your house with beat up daisies he defiantly found in his yard. He looked perfect as always but he pracatly glows when he smiles at you coming down your porch steps. Says he can't believe how beautiful you look leaving you to turn into a blushing mess. He was perfect and for some reason he liked you.

So when Clark sat you down on your couch and told his little alien secret, you weren't all that surprised.

"I knew you weren't real" is all you said, squinting your eyes at him.

"what?"

"I mean look at you! Your way to hot to be human, and your dating me of all people!" you scoff. The tips of his ears turn pink but he frowns at the last part.

"who else would I be dating?" he said it like you were being stupid for even slightly doubting why he would be interested in you.

"Im not trying to be self deprecating when I say this but your literally perfect Clark, I seriously could not name one bad thing about you....except maybe you keeping this from me for so long."

"that is a very self deprecating thing to say and you know I hate when you do that." he did hate it when you made mean comments about yourself, not that you did it often but whenever you did he would kiss and praise all your insecurities away. Clark was sweet like that.

"I know, I know, i'm just saying i'm not surprised you're not entirely human. Baby you're the sweetest person I've ever met and that's including your mom. Even after two years of dating you're still such a good boyfriend." You lift your hand to run your fingers through his soft hair, Clark leans into it without even noticing.

"By that logic you should be Kyptonian too," he moved impossibly closer to you on the already small couch, "you're more than perfect sweetheart, you're brave-"

"Clark you're literally superman I think between the two of us your the brave one."

"yeah but I could never stand up to myself the way you do, in fact half the time your the one standing up for me. You get insecure sometimes but you never let anyone talk badly about you or push you around." his warm palms land softly on your thighs, his heat seeping through your jeans.

"whatever" you mumble, unable to hide the deep blush in your cheeks. Clark always turned the tables on you, you give him compliments that are honestly more like facts, and he bombs you with all of his. "wait! If you're an alien why do you look so human?"

"what am I supposed to look like? Green with big black eyes?" your fingers twirl through his curls while he smiles down at you.

"no but I've seen you naked and it all looks perfectly human to me," It was his turn to blush now , "not that I've seen a lot of people naked but its just a little...disappointing"

"I dont know, im sorry your alien boyfriend isn't alien enough for you" he rolls his eyes in that cute Clark-only way.

"you know that's not what I mean, its just if you look like every other human then other aliens can too right?"

"Honey, when I started this conversation I thought I would get hit," you scrunch up your face, "I think I prefer that to all these unanswerable questions" you gasp in mock offense before hitting his arm.

"there now you got the reaction you wanted" you huff untangling your self from him.

"wait where are you going?"

"im going to find a boyfriend who doesn't think getting hit is better than a conversation." you only make it to the end of the couch before Clark scoops you up and sets you back down on the cushions.

"im sorry ok? Ask away, I'll answer every one of your ridiculous questions."

dick grayson x fem!reader

summary: after losing the person you thought you'd spend forever with, you crumble beneath the weight of self-doubt. thankfully, your best friend is there to remind you that you're worth choosing. author's note: ahhh thank you guys for all the love on my last two posts!! i was so certain that i wouldn't post again, but all of your kind words have made me reconsider. i hope you guys enjoy this one. ♡ warnings: lowercased, cheating, anxiety/panic symptoms, angst/hurt + comfort, self-blame word count: 1.5k words

the city of blüdhaven was a bit quieter after midnight. not silent, no, but quiet enough to hear the delicate sounds of rain pattering against your window and the faint police sirens blaring from a block away. 

and while it was a nice sound for most, you wished for the opposite--for noise to drown out the ringing in your ears and the storm slowly forming in your chest.

you had thrown your phone across the room after you mistakenly read the screenshots of the messages a fourth time. you thought that, on the last attempt, you’d be able to convince yourself it was an old thread between you and him.

but you don’t text like that.

and he’s never needed you to keep anything a secret.

now you find yourself seated at the foot of your bed with your head in your hands, allowing every insecurity you’ve ever had to swallow you whole.

maybe you weren’t pretty enough.

or as experienced.

maybe she was easier to love.

you tried to steady your breathing, but each breath caught halfway up your throat, as though your body had forgotten how to do something so simple. each inhale tightened painfully in your chest, leaving your lungs feeling empty and bruised.

somewhere between trying hard to breathe and trying not to think, you missed the light thud on your window.

“you know, i think i’m finally starting to win my ongoing feud with that gargoyle on fifth street--”

your head snaps up at the familiar voice.

“wow. tough crowd tonight, huh?”

dick hoists himself through your half-opened window with practiced ease, landing softly on the floor of your bedroom. rain clung to the dark strands of his hair, leaving a shine on his suit, as a few droplets trickled onto the hardwood floor beneath his boots.

“anyway,” he sets his escrima sticks against the wall, completely unaware of the chaos swimming in your head, “ i got our tickets for the new movie next weekend. all we have to do is order the matching pajamas, and before you say anything--yes, wally and donna will be wearing them too.”

a small smile almost pulls at your lips.

when dick comes to realize that you’re in a dark room and zeros in on your somber demeanor, his grin falters immediately, and his wit disappears, “hey…”

you refuse to meet his eyes.

he says your name softly, “what’s wrong? what happened?”

“nothing,” you say weakly.

but dick knows you better than that. he’s seen you truly happy before. he knows the way your eyes naturally squint when you smile, and how you beam like sunlight when you’re excited. he tilts his head slightly, studying you. this isn’t just “nothing”.

“mm,” his voice gentle and unbelieving, “and is ‘nothing’ the reason why you’re sitting in the dark alone on a friday night?” 

the question quietly shatters something within you, causing a sob to erupt from your chest without warning. in the same beat, dick freezes. not because he’s scared or hesitant, but because it hurts to hear you cry like that.

he immediately crouches down in front of you, gently pulling your hands away from your face.

“hey,” he whispers, urging your glossy eyes to meet his. he says your name again, pleadingly.

“talk to me.”

you close your eyes with shame, “i should’ve known.”

dick stays still, quietly wracking his brain to piece together possible reasons for your sadness. he moves his head in accordance with yours, following the movement of your eyes until you have no choice but to only look at him.

“he cheated on me,” you admit, your voice cracking beneath the weight of the confession. “and i should’ve realized it was happening the moment he started getting off of work late.”

for a moment, your words are met with deafening silence. dick doesn’t say anything, he just stares at you. 

of all the possible things he prepared himself to hear, that wasn’t one of them. 

someone cheated on you. 

his best friend. who’s kind. who over-apologizes, and ensures the needs of everyone around her are met before she even thinks about tending to her own. who remembers the little things, like favorite songs and smoothie orders. 

how could someone do that to you?

dick’s jaw tightens while his blue eyes continue to scan your face, instinctively searching for a version of the story where you tell him this is a misunderstanding.

“he cheated on you?”

you nod defenseless.

“no.”

“what?” you blink through tears.

“i know that’s not how this works, but no. i refuse to believe it.”

exasperation slips through your exhaustion, “dick—”

“i just—” he exhales, “i don’t know. what kind of idiot would do that?”

you look down again, “i really should’ve known. if anything i feel like an idiot. i was too in love to realize he was falling out of it—”

“sweetheart, you’re looking back at this with new information. you couldn’t have known.”

“i just feel so stupid. the red flags were there i just…” you pause, “i honestly just feel like i did this to myself.” 

his face falls at the way you’re speaking about yourself, “loving someone isn’t stupid. it could never be.” 

“i loved him so much, dick.”

“i know.” 

“i really thought we’d get married.”

the confession leaves your heart feeling even heavier than before. and leaves your best friend feeling like air has been knocked from his lungs.

it was now his turn to forget how to breathe. 

it wasn’t like he didn’t know the two of you were serious—he did. he tagged along for gift shopping, and helped you plan every anniversary surprise for the past three years. he couldn’t miss the way your face lit up when someone would mention your future. 

everyone knew how much you loved your boyfriend. 

dick most of all. 

but you saying it out loud tonight? hearing you mourn a future you were so certain about? 

deep down it made his chest ache. especially because you’re saying it through tears this time.

“it’s okay, though.” you force a weak smile. “i guess these things happen.”

that clears his head real quick.

“stop.” the interruption is both gentle and firm. his gloved hand carefully cups your chin, keeping your eyes on his, somehow causing all your words of doubt to dissolve on your tongue.

your brows furrow.

“we’re not doing that tonight.” he shakes his head, “you couldn’t have known, and i don’t want you convincing yourself that someone else’s betrayal was your fault.” 

another tear slips down your cheek and on instinct you turn away before he can see it. he doesn’t let you.

he smiles softly, “do you know what i see when i look at you?”

you don’t answer.

“i see someone full of love. who gives people second chances even when they don’t deserve them,” his thumb brushes your cheek lightly, “you’re gentle, and you’re caring. you still apologize when people bump into you, and you never hesitate to give the rest of your cash away to help the homeless man outside your apartment building.”

in spite of your sadness, a watery laugh escapes you. 

“you’ve been like this ever since i met you,” he says your name softly, “hell, remember when you’d still patch me up after patrol when i didn’t deserve it?”

“dripping blood all over my bedroom.” you mumble.

“yeah,” the corner of his mouth lifts, “and despite how long it’d take you to clean it after, you’d still help me anyway.” 

his expression softens even more, letting you feel every word.

“if someone can have all of that and still throw it away,” he takes a pause, as though the thought is unfathomable, “that is a serious loss on their end.”

dick stands from where he’d been kneeling in front you, and pulls you to your feet. you look at him, clad in suit and all, and the realization that he hadn’t even gone home first hits you like a truck. when his arms wrap around you, you fold into him completely, letting more tears fall at the idea of someone caring for you this way. 

despite the rain still clinging to his suit and hair, his embrace was warm. his hugs had the power to quiet the city further, leaving the sole sound of his heartbeat against your ear, and your erratic heart tripping over itself to follow suit.

before you know it, you’re tucked beneath your covers, and the sun patiently waits to greet you from behind your curtain. 

dick is asleep on your floor. 

wedged awkwardly between the wall and your bed, one arm is thrown lazily beneath his face— a poor attempt to make up for the lack of a pillow. 

his escrima sticks are still leaning against the wall where he’d left them hours ago, and empty wrappers from the food he tried convincing you to eat sit on the edge of your dresser. you remember how he insisted you eat and drink before bed—something about how dehydrated you might be from all that crying. you smile to yourself.

he stayed.

while the world kept spinning, and the boisterous city of blüdhaven continued, dick grayson stayed. 

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

Dick Grayson x plus size reader

You’re a single mom who’s just moved into a new house with your boyfriend, and your 6 year old has decided that now is the time to give him a new name

Warnings: mom!reader, f!reader, fluff, bit of crack humour, plus size reader, established relationship WC: 1.4k Minors DNI Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Dating a single parent had its challenges, sure, but Dick had been ready for them the moment you laughed so hard you snorted in the fancy restaurant where you had your first date. It had been a blind date courtesy of Alfred who frequented your tea shop cafe. There was something about you that had his heart pounding and his mind buzzing with ideas of a future he never thought he could have. And the news that you had a little boy waiting for you at home did little to shake him from the haze of infatuation that settled over his soul.

He took it slow, a hell of a lot slower than he was used to, but it was worth it. After two years of Friday night date nights at the arcade or your apartment, emergency pickups from kindergarten when your tyrant of a boss kept you late, and family cuddle piles on your bed, you were finally moving in together.

he's right where he wants to be

pairings: bruce wayne x reader; dick grayson x reader; jason todd x reader; tim drake x reader; clark kent x reader; conner kent x reader

warnings: conner and dick's parts are suggestive

a/n: just a little reminder that my requests are open :) it may take me a little while to get to them (if they're full-length fic reqs) due to work and starting college again. also thank you guys so much for 100 followers!!

"There you are." A strong arm hooks around your waist and yanks you into a solid chest. Bruce tilts his head down just enough for his voice to filter right into your ear. "I thought I told you to stick by my side."

Bruce had finally agreed to let you join a patrol with him. He'd been hesitating for a while because he hadn't wanted to force you into this part of his life just because you're dating him. Sure, you were a vigilante before the two of you got together, but you had given it up for a bit. He hadn't wanted to pressure you. Turns out he didn't need to worry at all! You're excited to be back in action, and you've been giving him the runaround all night, much to his chagrin.

"Maybe you did, but a girl needs to stretch her legs every now and then," you murmur. It's been so long since you've seen Gotham from the rooftops. You'd forgotten what it's like to look down and see across the city. It's a rush of power and adrenaline that sets your blood buzzing in your veins. "I'm sure you understand. Don't you, Br—Batsy?"

Bruce huffs under his cowl and loosens his grip on your waist. "I do, but that doesn't—"

"Then you'll forgive me for this," you cut him off. In the blink of an eye, you slip out of his grip and disappear into the night. Bruce watches in stunned silence for half a second before his gaze narrows on your form, now three buildings away.

Oh, it's on.

As he grapples across the city, he finds that he's not as angry as he should be. Batman should be angry that his new partner is treating patrol as a joke.

But Bruce Wayne loves you too much to want to damper your fun.

He's content to spend his night chasing after you, if only to have you back in his arms by sunrise. His boots hit the roof of the next building with a thud, and he realizes something phenomenal. He's exactly where he wants to be.

—————————————————————————

at the beginning of your relationship, tim drake tried to be quiet during sex— keyword, tried

he’d swallow moans and just let out a gasp of your name whenever he was balls deep inside you, feeling the walls of your pussy give him such a warm welcome that tim swore he was gonna cum right that instant

and whenever tim felt like a sound was gonna slip from his mouth, he would capture your lips with his to muffle a sound and swallow some of your own

but as time in your relationship passed on, so did his attempts to be ‘quiet’

and by quiet, im talking about tim sitting on his chair and full on moaning your name while you deepthroated him under the desk of his monitors, on your knees and holding his inner thighs as you looked up at him with those pretty wide eyes of yours he would stare at for hours

and god, was he singing like a fucking canary

“shit, baby” he let out another whimper, closing his eyes shut and knocking his head back to the headrest of his chair as he kept blabbering to himself. “so good, so good, so good—"

you just let out a hum, and the vibrations of your voice made his thighs in your grasp tremble for a second and a choked gasp leave his lips. it was so so hard for tim to focus on anything but the way your tongue swirled around the length of his cock and how warm your throat felt

oh, and you took him by the fucking hilt, mind you. so much so that your chin was hitting his balls and resting on the chair.

beads of sweat were forming on his face, his breath narrowing by the second. tim opened his eyes to look back down at you with that blown-out look on his face, heavy pants leaving his mouth.

and you were able to see his mouth open for a loud whimper to drag out of his fully parted lips from your tongue flattening on his tip, causing a small grin to form on your lips before your head slowly began to bob and drag his cock so much deeper in your throat that saliva started to seep from the corner of your lips

oh boy, when i tell you tim couldn’t keep his eyes off you— and his mouth shut too

“oh my god, ohhhh my god, you feel so good. takin’ me like a fucking goddess”

“don’t stop, please— hah— dont stop” “fuck, im close. wanna cum in your mouth so bad”

“please baby im so close— god, i wanna cum. pleasepleasepleaseplease—”

hey, at least he stopped trying to be quiet

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His eyes stay on your face the entire time, eyes half lidded and pupils dilated as he buries his face deeper into your wet pussy, making out with your cunt.

He experiments too, trying to figure out what makes you scream with pleasure. He'll give your clit quick kitten licks as he shoves his fingers inside your dripping hole, then maybe curl them roughly or gently to see what noises you'll make.

He may nip at it too, or spit on it and slowly rub it in to make your eyes roll back. Then he may latch his lips around it and suck roughly, making you whine that youre so so so close, only to feel him pull off you, leaving you untouched.

He does this a few times, watching the tears swell in the corners of your eyes and spill over, listening to you beg so sweetly for him to let you cum, to please just give you what you want. Telling him that you'll be good for him. So good, so sweet. He logs all of this in his head, slowly filing away each tell of yours: what makes you whine or moan or mewl or buck or curse so harshly as you pull so roughly on his hair he almost cums in his boxers.

When you've begged enough, he'll dive back in, murmuring sweet praise about how you deserve this reward as he shoves three fingers into your throbbing pussy while he drags his tongue along that pearl of nerves at the crest of your sex, knowing this makes the edges of your vision go white and your moans sound like a porn star.

You cum quickly, squirting onto his face while your thighs lock around his head and his mouth eagerly laps up your juices.

He massages your hips after, kissing your trembling thighs as they slowly relax around his head. He nuzzles into the soft flesh of your inner thigh, mouthing at his gently as he looks up at you softly, tenderly, eyes eagerly absorbing every twitch in your face as you come down from your high.

CONTENT ⋮ fem!reader, established relationship, suggestive, no more than kissing and a little grinding, references to previous sex, talk about peter’s body

“Peter. Peterrrr,” you whined when he didn’t give back more than a grunt as a response. “Can you do something for me?”

He paused his workout, taking a deep breath while staring at you, waiting for you to continue. Unluckily for him, you wanted a real response from your boyfriend.

“Yeah? What do you need?” his voice was sweet and patient like it always was. “Want some more attention?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, shaking your head.

“Nope,” you said, popping the p, “I want you to do as many push-ups as you can. And say my name after every one...”

“Okay..? Like—like this?” he asked as he did a test push-up. You hummed an, “uh-huh,” and waited.

pairing: peter parker x gf!reader summary: you're determined to leave love bites all over peter's neck, but unfortunately for you, his accelerated healing has other plans. peter has a couple of suggestions to lift your spirits. cw: attempts at giving hickeys, dry humping, kissing, allusions to sex, reader is kind of possessive but peter loves it wc: 1k+

Peter sharply inhales, hands tightening on your hips as your teeth softly graze the soft skin of his neck. In the back of the room, Evie calls out “Senses are overriding”, but you couldn’t care less, gripping your boyfriend’s face in one hand and moving it away from you so more space on his neck becomes exposed to you. A pathetic noise leaves Peter’s mouth at the way you handle him, lips reconnecting with his neck to sharply begin sucking again.

A slick layer of sweat coats Peter’s skin for a few reasons. One, you’ve been kissing him for a while now, and not long ago you got the brilliant idea to start leaving love bites on his skin. Two, your hips began moving against his own from where you’ve perched yourself above him a little while ago, and he’s been putting a large effort into not rolling his growing erection into your core. And lastly, you’re growing frustrated, which frankly makes him a little nervous.

You pull back from Peter’s neck with a loud pop, wiping your saliva off his skin with your unoccupied hand, and the second you huff again, Peter swallows thickly. The hickeys you’ve been trying to decorate him with just aren’t settling. In the minutes they take to appear, they already begin healing, leaving his skin unmarked.

“It’s not fair.” You mumble, and Peter truly sympathises with you, taking in the soft pout on your lips as you let go of his face. “What does a girl have to do give her boyfriend a couple of hickeys?” Peter gives you a small smile despite himself, eyes fluttering shut when you lean in again to continue your assault on his neck. God, you’re like a vampire, he thinks, groaning quietly as you press your entire body harder against his, chest flat against his. The hand you had on his face now buries itself in his hair, and Peter’s lips part as you grind down onto his lap.

“Heart rate quickly accelerating.” The robotic voice announces again, and Peter feels heat instantly rush to his face as you hum against his skin, taking in Evie’s words. You move your lips closer to Peter’s jaw, right where his pulse point lies, and he whimpers when your lips stretch into a smile against his neck, feeling the heavy thump of his pulse fighting against his veins. You pucker your lips to kiss the spot, and Peter’s hands snake up from your hips to the curve of your waist, where his fingers can dig better into your plush fat.

You pull away from Peter, seemingly unbothered by the fact that none of his hickeys are appearing, too busy admiring the state you’ve left your boyfriend in this time. Peter risks letting go of your waist with one hand, using it to cradle your cheek and pull you into a kiss instead. Your lips are wet with your saliva, and Peter moans against them, relaxing back into his pillows when you press your hands to his chest. Peter tries breaking the kiss, parting his lips to tell you something, but you’re quick to follow his lips, his open mouth letting you glide your tongue against his with practiced ease.

Peter’s hips twitch below you, bucking up into you in a way that makes the both of you let out a pleasured sigh. You break the kiss as Peter had tried doing mere moments ago, but now you ask him “Pete, why won’t you let me leave hickeys on you?”

Your boyfriend’s face softens at your upset expression, and he tilts his head sympathetically, saying “Trust me baby, I want you to be able to mark me up as much as you do.” The words send a throb to your core, and you try squeezing your thighs together, blocked by Peter’s body between them, and he grins softly. “What if I leave a couple on you, mhm?” Peter asks, fingers brushing up against your neck. He doesn’t wait for your response before bringing his lips there, his nose tickling your neck as it brushes against your skin, even as you reject his offer.

“But I want people to know you’re taken.” You open your mouth to add to your sentence, but what comes out instead is a quiet moan as Peter creates suction on your skin, one of your hands gripping his shoulder harshly. “I have a solution for that.” Peter mumbles, separating from your neck and looking up at you. You lean forward a little, pressing your forehead against Peter’s as you hum inquisitively, and your boyfriend mimics the noise with a slight nod of his head. “All it takes is to have you by my side any time I leave the house, and I’m sure everyone in Manhattan will get the hint.”

You press a short kiss to Peter’s lips, and you pull away for him to find you with a smile on your face. “Like that idea?” He questions quietly, and you nod softly, playing with the hair that hangs in front of his face. He pecks your lips shortly before returning his attention to your neck, grazing his teeth against your skin before sucking harshly on the spot for a long moment. You gasp, arching your body into his, and Peter pulls away to observe his work.

Peter glances up to meet your eyes before his gaze is quickly dipping down to your neck, and he grins, adding “And this hickey on your neck may very well be a sign to everyone that we belong to each other.”

“Already!?” You gasp, fingers coming up to graze the love bite Peter has so easily left on you. He nods, bringing an annoyed groan out of you, and you slump on his chest as you mumble in annoyance “That’s so unfair, I wanted to leave my mark on you, but no, of course Mr. Spider-Man’s accelerated healing has to confiscate his girlfriend’s simple pleasures in life.”

Peter laughs loudly, securing an arm around your waist and carefully rolling you over on the bed so he can hover over you. “Okay Mrs. Spider-Man, since you’re so upset about the hickeys, we can see if something else like back scratches last any longer.”

And of course, it’s all worth it to see the way your eyes light up at his suggestion, even though you demand a couple more rounds when nothing appears on his back the first time around.

Btw im the same person who sent the other overstimulated Peter ask but i thought of this after so you can lowk just ignore that one 😭

that scene where he was spurting webs everywhere and he couldn’t control it.. ugh

seeing him get all huffy and teary eyed because you just feel so good, his hands pressing on your hips harder than he realizes because he forgets how strong he can be sometimes.. and you’re on top of him, grinding your hips back and forth on his lap just clamping down on his pulsing cock :(( you can literally feel him throbbing inside you, all veiny and hard..