Tom Holland & Peter Parker Imagines & Preferences (book 2)

Bagels, Bruises, & Broken Thongs - Peter Parker (smut)

⚠️CREDITS TO hey-marlie on tumblr⚠️
⚠️🔞SMUT WARNING🔞⚠️

🔞⚠️WARNING SMUT⚠️🔞

Y/N: Maggie is gone for the weekend
Peter: What? Why?
Y/N: Her aunt is getting married or something idk
Y/N: Zelda is spending the weekend at her conference and I just dropped Gracie off at the train station to spend her weekend visiting Cynthia
Peter: If you're at the train station still can you pick me up some of those blueberry bagels from that shop like two doors down?
Y/N: Are you even paying attention to what I'm implying?
Peter: That you're close to my favorite bagel shop?
Y/N: I hate you.
Y/N: Do you wanna spend the weekend at mine?
Peter: Fuck me I have some stupid robotics exam on Monday. Blocked out this whole weekend to study baby I'm so sorry
Y/N: k

Peter groaned, tossing his phone on his bed and flopping back down onto his sheets. 'k' was never a good sign, and Peter knew that you understood why he couldn't come over but you didn't want to mask your disappointment.
He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes as he let out another groan and wondered what the actual hell he was going to do.
Sophomore year of college was really rough.
Peter was maxed out in credits trying to finish his robotics minor in two years (so he could have more time to patrol as Spider-Man in his final years of college), and you were up to your chin in accounting, business, and other courses that would one day land you as CEO of Stark Industries.
Where freshmen year had been full of fun and friends and parties, and you and Peter had enjoyed breezing through your classes due to your level of intellect, the boundaries had finally been hit and you and Peter were starting to slowly drown in your studies.
Peter wanted nothing more than to spend the weekend with you.
The two of you had been trying to take a vacation away for ages. You'd initially had this grand plan to spend Spring Break in Greece, but then freshmen year your Avengers duties had gotten in the way, and now sophomore year you and Peter had been goaded into going to Mexico with all your friends.
There was nothing wrong with going to Mexico with all your friends. You both loved your friends.
But the two of you just needed some alone time.
You were both living on the edges of campus now. Peter had moved in to an apartment with Scotty and Jake, and you were in an apartment with Gracie, Maggie, and Zelda.
It was nice having your own places and you could now burn candles and if you wanted a pet that could also happen. You could keep alcohol in your fridge and there wasn't any sort of curfew. Maggie could smoke weed on the balcony without fear of getting put on probation.
Shit was good.
And yet you and Peter were more stressed than ever.
Peter felt his phone buzz and rolled over to grasp it again. He blinked a couple times at the screen and pushed his overgrown curls from his face.

Y/N: They were out of blueberry so I got plain
Peter: You're the love of my life
Y/N: Sure

Standing up, Peter milled about his room, pulling together all the textbooks and papers and notebooks he'd need to study for the robotics exam. It all barely fit into his backpack, and he was still holding at least three textbooks with a folder in his mouth as he shoved his way through the door.
"And where are you off to?" Jake asked.
He was lying on the couch, his guitar in his hand only wearing his boxers as Peter spit the folder onto the countertop and dropped everything onto the floor in the kitchen.
"Gonna go study," Peter grumbled, "Robotics exam."
"Can you listen to my new composition at some point?" Jake asked, leaning his head against the back of the couch as he watched Peter shuffle around the kitchen looking for his mug.
"Yeah sure. Probably be back later tonight," Peter grumbled, half paying attention.
"Okay. And also can you walk our pet ostrich while you're at it?"
"Yeah whatever you need man," Peter said, obviously half listening.
Peter's senses went off as something was suddenly being hurled towards his face. Ducking slightly and catching it in his hand, Peter whipped his head to see Jake had literally chucked the remote towards him at full force.
"What the fuck, dude?!"
"You were zoning out! You're stressed, dude! You need a break!"
"I don't have time," Peter grumbled, shaking his head as he tossed the remote back to his friend. "I have the robotics exam and then we have to present our midterm projects at the end of the week. Or is it next week?"
Peter stopped for a moment and turned to his friend as if he would know.
"Shit I also have to call Flash."
"I forget you have a boyfriend named Flash."
"He is not my boyfriend."
"But he's the cute little one right? The one that is in Connecticut and is like, super rich?"
"Do you just want me to send you his contact info? He and his boyfriend just broke up. Fuck, I also now have to call Harley."
Peter leaned on the counter and hung his head, groaning slightly before slamming his fist into the table with half his force, still rattling the silverware and dishes around him.
"Pete, dude, I'm staying this because I love you -"
"I'm not gay, Jake, for the last fucking time," Peter grumbled, "You're hot but I'm not into your dick."
Jake burst out laughing, standing and placing his guitar on the couch before walking over to where Peter was standing.
"Please stop trying to jump me," Jake said seriously, "I know you're attracted to me and it's honestly just because awkward at this point because you're not my type."
"When are you going to tell Scotty that you swing both ways?" Peter asked, smirking as Jake rolled his eyes.
"I'd say we both having swinging secrets we could tell Scotty, huh?"
Peter furrowed his eyebrows, wrinkling his nose as he mumbled, "What?" but Jake had already moved on.
"Listen," Jake said, "College is tough as shit but you can't let yourself get burned out at the beginning. You're overloading and that sucks, you're working at your internship way more than you'd anticipated but at least it's work, and you have a really hot girlfriend who is always there to support you and has the whole place free to herself this weekend."
"How did you -"
"Zelda and I gossip all the time," Jake shrugged as if it was common knowledge. "Go spend some time with Y/N. She misses you. You miss her. We live literally a four minute walk from one another. You shouldn't have to miss her."
Peter's heart was heavy in his chest as he looked down at his phone to see the background photo of the two of you. It had been over three years now and he'd still yet to change the photo from the Halloween party your senior year of high school.
It was the most carefree Peter had ever felt with you, and the fact that you were wearing a red lace bralette and red lipstick was also a nice reminder.
"I will," Peter sighed, "But I have to study first."
Jake looked a bit disappointed, but he nodded, pushing off from the kitchen counter and making his way back over the couch.
"Maybe spend the night with her at least?" Jake suggested, "It's not like you're going to be studying through the night."
But Peter did study through the night.
It was a Friday night and Peter found himself in the library until 4am. He hadn't meant to, but it had kind of just happened and the next thing he knew his morning alarm at 4:30am was going off on his walk back to his dorm and his entire body felt heavy, wound up, and jittery.
He had to walk past your building to get to his own, and he was a bit confused when he noticed that your light was on in your room four floors up.
Though his body was screaming at him to go back to his dorm and keep plugging away at the equations that were running through his head, he saw a figure walk past your window and couldn't help himself.
Climbing up the fire escape, Peter only had to climb along the wall for a couple feet before he landed on your window and knocked.
You'd been pacing, trying to keep yourself awake as you'd been reading over one of the essays you were trying to finish. Startled, you dropped everything - the pen in your mouth, your phone in your hand, and the large textbook you'd been reading - before you turned to see Peter hunched over looking in from your window.
Scurrying over, you were quick to open the window and allow Peter to crawl inside as he slumped against the wall.
"What are you doing up?" he asked, dropping all his stuff with a heavy thud. He dropped it with such force and without thinking that the wood of your floor splintered slightly, his strength sometimes being too much for him to remember to take it easy.
You looked down at the small cracks in your floor before looking up at him, concern washing over your features.
"What are you doing up?" you asked back, hands on your hips.
"I was in the library. Walking back," Peter shrugged, "Are you studying for -?"
"Stat 201," you nodded, "And -?"
"Robotics," Peter confirmed, yawning slightly.
You stepped forward and reached up, carting your fingers through his hair as Peter hummed at the feeling of you massaging his scalp.
"You need a haircut," you whispered.
Peter nodded but didn't say anything, stepping towards you and wrapping his arms around your waist as he let his head fall to your shoulder.
"M'tired."
"You can take a nap here?"
Peter shook his head, "Need to study."
"Hey."
Your grip on his wrist was firm, and your eyes were pleading as he turned and gave you a tired, out of focused look. "Let's get some rest," you said, "I'll set an alarm. We can sleep for a couple hours and then start studying again, yeah?"
Peter looked like he was near to tears as he nodded, allowing you to take his hand and lead him to your room.
You helped him remove all his clothing as he slumped on your bed, pulling his shirt over his head and having him lift his hips so you could shimmy his jeans down his legs.
He watched quietly and sleepily as you tossed your shirt off, the cream bralette you were wearing causing Peter's mouth to water as you looked around your room for your sleep shorts.
It was soft moments like these that caused Peter to realize that you were his and you were always going to be. He was so lucky to have you and the intimate feeling of you being so comfortable in your own space to walk around in your bra and thong while he laid in your bed caused his heart to beat quickly.
You looked over to see Peter watching you closely, the hard look in his eyes signaling to you what Peter might really need in this moment.
"Pete?" you whispered cautiously, forgetting about finding your sleep shorts and walking over to Peter as he sat up slightly and blinked at you.
"C'mere," he nearly growled, his voice so low that it sent a shiver through your body and you were quick to crawl up onto the bed.
Peter roughly pulled you into him, his hand strong and tight around your arm as you fell against his chest. Peter pushed you down into the bed, his breath hot against your skin as you reached up and pulled him down to kiss you.
His lips were hot and his breathing was already uneven as he pressed his lips to your skin with vigor and strength. You could tell Peter was kind of in his own headspace, not saying anything and only paying attention to your body as he literally tore your thong from your body.
"Peter!" you gasped, as the two of you looked at the torn material, shock on both your faces as Peter turned back to you with wide eyes.
"I-I didn't mean - I wasn't going to -"
"It's okay; it's okay," you reassured him, leaning up and pulling his lips back to yours as he tossed the thong aside, his hands coming back to massage your skin as he rolled his hips against yours.
You moaned, arching your back to reach behind you and awkwardly remove your bra, tossing it aside as Peter sat back on his knees and stood, pushing his boxers down to leave both of you naked.
He looked like such a mess. His hair was completely fucked out and as he'd begun to sweat the curls had started to really stick out. His cheeks were red and you could see he had been on the verge of crying tears of frustration. His lips were now swollen and there was still a bit of a scab on his lip from when it had gotten busted a couple days ago when Spider-Man had broken up a drug deal.
But he was your Peter Parker and he was standing in front of you waiting for permission.
"C'mere," you now told him, watching as Peter nearly collapsed into the bed and smothered you with his own body. He bit down on your collarbone, groaning as you dug your fingertips into his shoulders.
"I - Y/N - I can't -"
You could tell from his trembling body and the way Peter's hands were digging deep into your hips that Peter was having a difficult time controlling his senses. He wasn't going into sensory overload exactly, but he was unstable. His nose was so harshly pressed up against your breast, his lips sucking so strongly on the underside of your chest that you could tell Peter was hardly clinging on to anything other than what was right in front of him.
And it kind of turned you on.
"You're okay, Pete," you said softly, "Just let go, angel. It's okay."
"I-I could hurt you."
"You'll never hurt me."
Peter couldn't even look at you, he felt so far gone already but he anchored onto your soothing voice, knowing that if you trusted him then that was all that mattered.
He hiked your left leg over his shoulder, propping himself up on his one elbow as he gripped himself in his hand and hissed, pumping his cock a few times before pressing against your entrance.
He didn't waste any time and you gasped as he pushed into you in one go. You were wet and wanting him, that was for sure, but Peter usually would coax you to an orgasm prior with his fingers or tongue to make sure you were ready.
But this time he was going diving right in.
His thrusts were strong and purposeful as he gripped your hip in one hand and your wrist in the other, holding it above your head as you dug your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.
He was littering hickies along your breasts, nipping and sucking the skin in front of his face as he thrust in and out of you at a steady rhythm. His grunts and moans filled the room to accompany the sound of his skin slamming against yours.
You could hardly say anything as Peter continued to pound into you. He was going so hard and fast that you knew you weren't going to last much longer, but you had a feeling that wasn't even on Peter's mind.
He shifted above you, rolling you onto your side as your leg hooked back over his hip and Peter repositioned himself behind you, fucking up into you as you gripped the sheets in front of you.
"So good," Peter moaned, "Shit. Fuck me."
This position didn't last long though, and as you were building towards your orgasm, Peter pulled out of you again. You rolled back onto your back as Peter yanked at your legs, wrapping them back around his waist.
Peter dove down to kiss you now and his kisses were so hungry and passionate that you felt he was trying to swallow you up.
He pushed back into you and you moaned, breaking the kiss as you mouth widened and a loud whimper fell from your lips. Peter's hands on your hips were searing into your skin, almost as if he'd dug into your skin and was gripping the bone.
"God ..."
Peter's groan caused your orgasms to tear through your body unannounced. He was groaning and growling, whimpering at the feeling of you so tightly around him. You let out a small whine as Peter continued to fill you up, his thrusts not stopping as he continued to rhythmically pound into you with no mercy.
Your body felt like it was fizzling out, like the last remnants of a sparkler, and you were on the edge of something warm and weightless.
"Fuck Peter," you whimpered, gripping onto him as tightly as you could as Peter groaned above you.
"Good girl," he mumbled, "My good girl. Fuck!"
Peter leaned back from you, propping himself up on his knees as he held your ass in his hands to push you onto him repeatedly over and over.
"God ... fucking hell!" Peter yelled, noticing your fucked out expression and bleary eyes. "That's it baby."
Your legs felt numb, and if Peter hadn't been gripping them so tightly, you had a feeling they would fall from around his waist had he not propped them up. You focused on watching Peter's muscles flex and twitch, the strain they were causing as he continued to mercilessly fuck into you.
The sun was starting to rise, and in the dark things had been nothing but a mesh of skin to skin, but now you could see Peter's manic expression, his red skin, and the blotchy complexion starting to materialize across his skin as he hunkered back over you and thrust up into you as quickly as he could, chasing his high.
"Shit baby yes," Peter groaned, "That's it. Fuck me; I - FUCK!"
You felt Peter cum hard, shooting into you as he cried out, strangled cries echoing through your apartment as spurts of his cum shot into you repeatedly over and over.
He slumped against you once he was done, kissing your shoulder sloppily and tangling his fingers in your hair as he rolled off you and, just as his one hand reached out for yours, immediately fell asleep.
You watched his face relax, the way his muscles slowly unwound and how his body seemed to melt into the mattress.
He looked so beyond exhausted, and you gently trailed your fingertip along the bags under his eyes. You were really going to need to nurse him back to health today, you could feel it, because sometimes Peter couldn't differentiate his deep feelings of stress with the constant buzz of his senses and he would push himself too far.
Like now.
You body ached, and though you knew Peter hadn't meant to, your legs hurt and you could feel the sting of the hickies he'd left on your chest.
Groaning softly, you winced as you sat up and slowly dragged yourself to the bathroom. You struggled to walk, barely making it before leaning against the counter and reaching for something to clean yourself off with.
You pulled on a pair of sleep shorts and the shirt Peter had tossed off that now lay on the floor before tucking Peter in and making sure he was comfortable. You hobbled to the kitchen, starting to make some tea, and stood to get some work done.
Sitting was not an option.
Peter woke up four hours later. It was still early morning, around 8am, but Peter felt like he'd slept a lifetime. His whole body ached and he felt that post-orgasmic glow that left his body feeling stretched and relaxed.
He turned over in bed hoping to find you there, but the sheets were cold and he groaned as he sat up, searching for his clothes to only find his boxers and jeans. He smiled to himself, realizing you were probably somewhere wearing his shirt, and stood.
After cracking his back and rolling his shoulders a bit, he searched around for his glasses in his backpack before shoving them on his face and sighing contently at the feeling of his senses dulling.
He could smell coffee so he knew you were in the kitchen, and he smiled from the doorway as he watched you flipping through one of your textbooks, trying some notes into your laptop as you drank your tea.
You didn't need spidey senses to know Peter was watching you, and you looked up to see a dopey smile on his face as his cheeks flushed when he realized he'd been caught staring.
"Hey," you said softly, "How're you feeling?"
"I ... much better," Peter said stepping forward, "I uh ... I did it again, didn't I?"
You nodded, reaching up and smoothing down his hair.
"You really should start to have some way of knowing when you're over stressing yourself," you advised.
Peter nodded, "I'll work on it."
"We can work on something in the lab," you suggested, "Some way of regulating the levels of -" you winced, jumping slightly as Peter had gone to wrap his arms around your waist and he jumped back, his face in shock.
"D-Did I hurt you?" he asked, noticing the slight pinch in your face as you cleared your throat and tried to go back to normal.
"N-No," you shook your head, "Just stubbed my toe."
"Y/N ..."
"I'm fine."
"Y/N."
Peter's face was stern and you finally gave up, sighing as you put down your tea mug. "It's not your fault ..." you started, and suddenly Peter felt horrible.
"What did I do?" he whispered, horror etched into his features as you were quick to shake your head.
"It's okay -"
"No, Y/N, please what did I do?" Peter begged, "Did I ... oh God."
Realization seemed to hit Peter hard and you felt awful. You'd told him it was okay but Peter now remembered just how lost he'd become last night and ...
"Oh shit, Y/N please show me."
"It's - Peter," you begged, but his fingers were already nimbly tugging at the bottom of his shirt. You allowed him to start to push it up but you stopped him.
"Do - Would you - Let's shower," you suggested.
Peter followed you slowly for a couple steps before noticing the slight ache in your walk and gingerly picking you up, holding you as lightly as he could as he walked you to the bathroom.
There was a dull ache in his chest and a sharp strike of panic when he set you down and you winced slightly, turning to him. "I don't want you to feel guilty."
"I -"
"Peter," you said sternly.
He nodded, knowing he was going to feel guilt regardless, but watched with pain in his eyes as you took the shirt off and stepped out of your shorts.
Your chest was covered in dark, dark bruises - the kind of hickies that would take a while to go away. They were the kind of tri-colored bruises that Peter would sometimes leave on his most aggressive attackers as Spider-Man. The dark purple in the middle with the ring of red, a splotchy green and yellow hue on the edges.
"O-Oh my God," Peter whispered, falling to his knees as he inspected them, his cold fingers shakily running over them as goosebumps rose on your skin and you hissed, pulling away slightly.
"Y-Y/N. Sweetheart," Peter gushed, his eyes swimming as he looked up at you.
Your hips were about the same with some very obvious hand marks Peter had left, some bruises littering your thighs.
"O-Oh baby," he whispered. "Y-You should have - You should have s-stopped me! O-Or ... Or we shouldn't have -"
"Peter," you spoke in a soft whisper, your two fingers resting under his chin so he could look up at you. "It's okay. You were so wound up. You needed something to help you relax and that's what I'm here for."
"N-Not like this," Peter shook his head, "Baby, this can't happen again. Please. It may have felt good in the moment but now ... No," he continued to shake his head, "Please I never want to see you like this ever again."
He was crying, tears falling down his face as you cooed at him, pulling him back up to his feet and pressing your lips to his softly.
"I love you," you whispered, "And I want to be with you no matter what. You can't hurt me, Peter. Everything I do for you is out of love, and I know you feel awful about this but it's okay. We'll just work on your stress levels and figure out a way to regulate them so you're aware and -"
"And keep you safe," Peter nodded, "Oh God, baby. I-I'm so sorry."
"I forgive you."
You didn't want to say you forgave Peter, because there was nothing to forgive, but you knew it was what he wanted to hear so you said it, a soft smile on your face.
"What can I do?" Peter asked, "Please tell me how to make this better."
"Well, let's shower and then we can spend the day studying and I still have all those bagels we can eat?"
Peter nodded, sniffling slightly as you kissed his chest. "And maybe I can sit in your lap because chairs ... chairs are difficult right now."
Peter's face turned a deep shade of red and he groaned, tucking his face into your neck, completely embarrassed.
You couldn't help but laugh, giggling as he grumbled something about never living this down.
"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, you know that?" Peter asked, helping you into the shower. "I'm surprised you haven't run away from me yet."
You laughed, rolling your eyes, "You're so dramatic."
Peter laughed, shaking his head, "I'm going to take such good care of you this weekend."
"You already did, baby," you winked, causing Peter to groan and shaking his head.
Gracie was the first one back when the weekend ended, coming back from visiting her girlfriend as she walked through the door with a yawn. All your roommates had figured Peter would hunker down in your apartment while you had the place to yourself, but what none of them had expected was for Peter to be duct taping ice packs to your boobs in the kitchen.
The ice packs were wrapped in small towels, wrapped all around your upper torso, and Peter was having you twirl around as he duct taped them to your body securely.
Gracie stopped in the doorway, you and Peter also freezing as you noticed her presence.
"What the fuck," she whispered, staring at the two of you as Peter looked back and forth from one to the other with wide eyes.
"It's not what it looks like," you said quickly, arms still raised as Peter awkwardly tore the tape and pressed the last bit down to the taped ice packs.
"I don't even know what it looks like," Gracie said honestly, placing her stuff on the counter. "What even happened?"
"I fell chest first into a wall during a fight?" you offered, "They're ... bruised."
"You fell chest first into Peter's lips?" Gracie offered, raising an eyebrow as Peter literally squawked in horror and you gapped at her.
"A wall!" you cried, "As an Avenger!"
Gracie nodded, "Uh huh. Like we all haven't had a painful hickey or two on our boobs every once in a while."
"That isn't -" Peter started but Gracie waved him off.
"Y'all need to get your own place," she grumbled, shaking her head as she reached around the two of you nonchalantly and grabbed her juice from the fridge.
Peter looked to you as Gracie exited to her room, a sheepish look on his face as he sighed, "Maybe we should start looking for our own place."
You smirked, shaking your head as you pressed your hands to the ice packs covering your chest. "I'm not sure my titties can handle that much attention."
Peter sputtered as you giggled, making your way back to your room to study as he stood there, wondering what the hell he ever did to deserve someone as weird, wonderful, talented, and smart as you.
"Is that a yes?" he called from the kitchen, simply listening to your laughter as a response.