Eff

.

.

"that's so gross-" peter all but moans into the crook of your neck.

he's settled in your lap, half hard, in nothing but his boxers. his eyes - glassy and wet - peak out from underneath your jaw, fixated on the hand trailing up his forearm. you gently press you index into the small indent at the top and he whines into your neck, hips jutting into the air helplessly.

"so gross..."

"its not gross, peter. its your body," you say to him. you tease around the hole and he squirms. "you're so sensitive here."

he whines again, shutting his eyes tight and shoving his face further into your neck. he's so sweet, always so good for you. when you'd first presented the idea of playing with his organic web shooter he'd been so hesitant and shy, yet so willing to try just for you.

you tenderly graze the back of your nail over top of it and he nearly chokes. "feels weird."

"yeah?" you say, but then you pause. you want to make sure that it doesn't just feel weird, but that it feels good.

"do you want me to stop?" your hand just barely lifts off him, and peter's reaction is immediate.

"no! no," he corrects himself when you glare down at him. he knew you didn't tolerate when he raised his voice, even in a setting like this. "please don't stop."

"you like it?"

he nods, but you need more than that. you don't dare touch him until he finally manages out a shaky, "i- yes, i like it. please. please keep going."

so you do, a little more roughly this time. it's to get back at him for yelling. he deserves it, you tell yourself. you take the edge of your thumb and dig your nail into the slit.

its hardly a punishment, though. he moans, loud. you're eyes flit down to the bulge in his boxers. his hips are twitching up and there's a tiny wet spot at the tip of where his dick presses against the fabric.

"oh my god, please- so good, so good. again, please-"

and who were you to deny such a sweet sound?

instead of scratching him again, you massage the padding of your fingers down his arm. you start low, which makes his head lull back against you, and draw little circles upwards. when you finally reach the top again, peter is flushed and his body is drawn tight and his face is pinched together in concentration.

"are you close?" you hum into his ear.

he nods fervently, and he's so out of it that you decide that a nonverbal answer is good enough this time.

"can i? please? i'm so close-"

"go ahead, baby. you've been so good."

that's all it takes for him. with one last press of your fingers on his wrist he wails, coming untouched in his boxers. you rub his back through it, keeping a firm finger pressed to his web shooter.

"thank you, thank you."

there's a brief lapse of silence only filled by peter's heavy breathing in the quiet of the room. he relaxes into your arms and nuzzles into you.

you pet his hair, carding your fingers through sweaty locks of brunette and decide something.

"one more."

"huh?" is all he's able to get out before you're dipping your head down to lick over the opening.

he gasps, and tenses under you immediately, back arching into the hot embrace of your mouth. you close your lips around him and suck.

"ah- wait-!"

tears spring to his eyes. they bead up in the corners and roll over his waterline, soaking his face.

his mouth hangs open uselessly. he tries to find words but nothing coherent finds its way out.

"nghh- fuck- slow-hah-slow down-!"

you don't. he's a super hero, he can take it. if he really wants you to stop, there's a safeword. you lave your tongue over the tiny opening and his body jolts, like he's being electrocuted.

he's openly crying now. the overstimulation of having just orgasmed and toying with his already sensitive web shooter is too much for him.

"please, i- oh god."

it doesn't take long before he's reaching his peak again. he cries, body thrashing uselessly under you as you continue sucking and licking at his wrist.

when you finally pull off, he lets out a sob of relief and his shoulders are wracked with shivers.

"good job, baby. you did so good."

the praise him floaty. he replies in a high keen.

you brush his bangs out of his face with a careful hand. "i'm so proud of you, pete. i mean it, you did so good. my sweet boy."

he whines, then makes a face at you before asking, "kiss?"

of course you'd give that to him. your lips quirk up into a smile before you lean down and press them against his.