i know i'm sorry idk what i was thinking i'll make it up to you i promise but okay okay okay no more texting i swear if you're not here and fucking me within the next 30 minutes tops i think i might actually lose my mind
skip the F train!! doesn't run those last few stops this late don't forget just wait for the A it's worth it whaaaaat the hell am i doing you taught ME that be safe make good choices i'll see you soon
[ the truest sign that her brain is just not in control anymore - grammar is nowhere to be found. ]
god it's really kinda hot that you're talking all new yorker at me is it hot? or am i just that far gone
( he's assuredly not taking ANY train, most of the time getting to Nancy's apartment will be trying to talk down his hard on so nobody notices Spider-Man webslinging through the streets with an obvious erection. )
okayokay okay no texting just going to where you are asap
( it does take him about twenty minutes, all told. perhaps still a suspiciously limited amount of time, all the same. how Nancy isn't onto Peter yet is kind of laughable. maybe she's just too horny? who knew that was such a successful distraction.
it's really especially bad to not start asking some hard questions when Peter is absolutely still allergic to doors. Nancy's fire escape is only a couple stories, is that a good excuse for why he uses her window instead of her door? absolutely not, but here he is rap-tap-tapping anyway. )
[ so nancy's gotten used to the fire escape thing, kind of, in that she doesn't actively question it anymore, but it still catches her by surprise this time, in a new way that has her checking the time on her cellphone as she gets up from her desk and moves to open her window, because how-? her "that doesn't make sense, does it?" ..sense is going off, but she's too damn horny for it right now. logic and the basic concept of time is lost on her already. maybe the F train can cut down its usual commute time by about ten minutes, at random. maybe that's a totally normal thing she never noticed.
anyway, her cheeks are comically flushed, in that it almost looks like she was in the middle of making out with someone for a long while before he knocked, and only split apart to catch her breath and answer the ..window. she's more than a little out of her mind. which is totally why she's shoving the window open as wide as it goes, despite the fact that it causes a rush of sticky summer air into the room when she's already feeling too hot ( the way she could almost hear the way her dad would bitch and moan about the central air bill skyrocketing with every second she leaves it open, ugh. go to hell, ted. ), and instead of giving him room to climb through before shutting it behind him, she only waits until he's about halfway through the window before she crowding his space and grabbing the front of his shirt so she can drag him in for a kiss.
she takes a small step back, ready to pull him towards her bed, but... what, she's really expecting him to be able to keep up with her, despite the whole window thing? not just the window, there's even a storage bench right under it he needs to clear before he's fully in her room. so she stops, laughs against his mouth. she gives him two more kisses, then helpfully takes two small steps back, and even lets go of his shirt. ]
( it doesn't make sense. it has never made sense. New Yorkers never choose to take the stairs, they're forced to because maintenance still hasn't fixed the elevator. you don't get across any part of town in 20 minutes. you can hardly make it 10 blocks in 20 minutes. Peter isn't that great at hiding his secret identity and frankly Nancy probably should have called him out by now. it's very convenient that horny brain is less detail oriented. if it makes Nancy feel better, Peter is equally susceptible to horny brain. he's smart enough to know that he should have cooled his jets awhile before he went rat-tap-tapping on her window.
he sure didn't, though, because sitting on her roof for fifteen minutes to make his arrival time a little more plausible would have been fifteen minutes that he wasn't touching Nancy, or kissing Nancy, or making good on all the delicious promises they'd made over text message. Peter frankly would have padded out how much through-a-window making out they could have done just because he finds Nancy's breathless, giddy kisses a lot more compelling than crawling over her furniture.
eventually Nancy backs up, confirming her as the more sensible of the two. which nobody is surprised by. that is enough for Peter to commit to entering her room properly and crawl over her throw pillows and bench and maybe even a forgotten book she must have been reading there at some point to join her in her room. considering how gangly awkward teenage boy he is, Peter manages to do so with strange dexterity. spider superpowers coming in clutch, once again. )
Hi, ( Peter says, grin almost verging on ridiculous. ) Where were we? ( as if he possibly forgot. kissing. lots and lots of kissing, and then more than kissing. his mind is a little fuzzy on what that more entailed, though they have lots of delightful options and Peter is at peace with whichever they end up on. their start, though, has to be pressing back against her because the required distance to not trip face first through her window is simply too distant now that he's in. so Peter winds her back close with a hand knotting in her hair and a palm sliding under the fabric of her shirt, leading with his mouth and walking Nancy toward her bed. )
[ more proof that nancy's not firing on all cylinders - she does actually take a breath and open her mouth to answer his question, which was very clearly rhetorical. luckily his mouth is back on hers before she jumps into any kind of explanation, and that breath gets released in a rush between them instead. it's a laugh too, sort of, because he's leading her to the bed, which is great, she loves that, but her window is still open! and normally she would spin them so she could rush to close it before basically tackling him onto her bed, but she's... honestly too far gone to worry about it.
because yeah, sometimes she can get a little, ah, loud? when she's making all those sounds they were just talking about. but who cares if someone hears her? she doesn't. and the temperature in her room is about two minutes away from officially matching the summer heat outside, but that's fine too, actually. peter always seems to run a little warm, but right now he's just hot ( haha, okay always hot, but anyway!! ) all over, and her light summer clothes do nothing to filter it. the hand he tucks under her shirt is searing, actually, and so is the one in her hair. but it's possible the flush of heat she's feeling from that is actually the perfect grip he has there. it's the kind that makes her pant into their kiss, makes her bite down into his lower lip and tug. and there's sweat under her palm where it settles on the back of his neck and holds on tight, but it turns out she's actually totally down to just... lean into that. so what if they sweat a little more than they usually do? she's learning so many new things about herself today.
the back of her knees bump into her bed before she's expecting them to, and luckily her jaw drops instead of biting him harder, but the hand on the back of his neck grips tighter, and the hand that was resting against his chest is bunched in his t-shirt, stretching the collar. oops. it doesn't stop her from getting right back into making out with him for a little while longer, but eventually she makes a decisive sound against his lips, kissing him one more time, then slowly drops to take a seat right there on the edge of her bed. she tips her head back into his hand, not wanting him to let her go of her hair yet ]
You took the train like this? [ the bed actually puts her at a height where she'd have to look down to see the way her hands are sliding up over the front of his shorts, pointedly framing the bulge that was already somewhat visible under the loose fabric, but there's no hiding it now that she's got her hands on him. but she really does like looking up at him from this angle, she wasn't just talking shit. so she keeps watching his face even as her hands slide up towards his hips, then back down his thighs, rubbing close to his dick, but not enough to give him any real friction. ] Peter.
( it's the New Yorker in him, Peter is not particularly concerned that someone might hear something through Nancy's window. it's not like she's on the 20th floor, but still, what are the chances things will carry that far? and even if they do, how would anyone connect that specific noise to Nancy Wheeler, 8-B? he's not at all worried about it, though to be fair, he didn't think about it at all. Peter was thinking pretty specifically about getting Nancy into bed. and getting her clothes off. and the rolodex of horny they'd been discussing before he got here.
besides, if her neighbors get an earful... turns out Peter is kind of proud of the wild little noises he can get out of Nancy Wheeler. let them listen.
she settles on the bed and that deprives him slightly from the heat of her mouth, though Peter is willing to make the sacrifice. his fingertips streak a little higher up her back, and her shirt hikes up after it, leaving her hair pleasantly disheveled from a combination of undressing and greedy fingers in it by the time he gets it up and off and gone. god only knows where her shirt lands, because Peter no longer has it in him to pay attention to it once it is off of her.
Nancy strokes him through jeans and his fingers are back in her hair to knot in a grip there, to lead her face back up to kiss her again. more heat and breath and tongue than anything else at this point. he's had to sacrifice some of his layers to the heat, which thankfully means there's less to take off before they'll be skin on skin. he mutters a noise of impatience at her palm sliding everywhere but where he wants it. because yeah, he's been wanting Nancy to touch him for so much longer than it took him to get here. finally finally finally having her is enough to make his thoughts blur together, and all of them starting and ending with Nancy. how she looks, how she smells, how she feels. the heat of her, the quiet admonishment in her tone, the way her mouth is quirking up into a smug little smile that she left him hard and horny to book it across town. )
Got some funny looks. ( not from the train. people on the street. though, mostly the looks were from Spider-Man wearing a short sleeved t-shirt and his mask lazily slapped on the top, like it wasn't weird for him to websling around looking like a slouchy skater from the neck down. ) The things you do to me, ( Peter says, and it might be the last coherent thought he has for awhile. because Nancy also has that effect on him, turns out, and Peter has given up pretending he doesn't feel it.
speaking of the slouchy skater look, Peter decides he'll divest himself of a shirt nearly as quickly as he divested Nancy of hers. the heat is almost too much, and without he feels like he can breathe a little better. or maybe that's bending back into her mouth, tilting her head to run his lips down her throat instead. )
[ as much as nancy would like to believe she's spontaneous and unpredictable when it comes to the things she wants to do with ( or to ) peter in bed, there are simply too many things that are a consistent weakness of hers to really hold up that image. because as soon as peter's hand is back in her hair with that perfect grip, her head tips back, and her eyes fall shut, and she stretches up to meet him where he guides her, lips parted so he can kiss her however the hell he wants. it's the easiest way to shove her into a "no thoughts, head empty" level of compliance, and it's absolutely predictable. nearly cliche. but it's not totally reliable, it doesn't last as long as he keeps his hand twisted up in her hair. it takes a lot more than that to have her feeling truly mindless.
that said, she's still breathless when he pulls back for a breath, listens to her tease him, like she has any room to actually talk. their conversation really did turn her on way, way to much, like, text messages shouldn't do that. sexting shouldn't make her wet, not like this. his timing is incredible, really, because her hands decided to take a detour, sliding up up up, and peter's shirt went right up up up with them. and yes, another predictable thing about nancy wheeler is that she absolutely gets distracted when a really hot guy is suddenly very shirtless, right in front of her. and she doesn't even need to be turned on beyond reason for that to happen. so her eyes look him over, taking in as much as she can, while her hands pretty much do the same. it's the pads of her fingers that press and drag down his torso, not her nails, not yet. although she does feel the need to get her mouth on him. now.
but peter's got other plans. and, well, she generally really likes peter's plans, especially when they start with kissing her neck. so maybe she can't get her mouth on him yet, but her hands are still free, and that's enough. more than enough. it means she can reach back to unhook her bra and let it slide down her arms, chucking it that way. his teeth are on her neck and she whines, her hand finding its way into his hair now, stay right there, as her head drops back to give him more room. but it's not long beforee she's bracing her other hand on the bed so she can try to move them back onto it. but wow, it's incredibly difficult trying to bully peter into moving anywhere, when he's determined to keep leaving those burning kisses all along her neck. so she stays just like that, fingers scratching through his hair, until she feels a harsh breath against her neck, and that's when she tugs away.
and maybe she originally just planned on backing up until she felt her pillows against her back, beckon him to meet her there if he hadn't moved along with her, but she stops right in the middle of the bed instead. because she, apparently, literally can't wait any longer before getting out of her shorts. luckily she has enough presence of mind to not just roll back and scramble to tug them off just to throw them into the void, and instead she slows it down, tucking her knees against her chest so she can slowly pull them off. but- just her shorts. because maybe she wants to make sure he can see the effect he has on her before he gets to touch her there, just from the fact that her panties are wet enough to cling to her skin. so even once her shorts are gone and she can lower her legs again, she just lets them butterfly open from there, hips shifting up so it's easy to stay that way. she reaches down to rub the flats of her fingers over herself, wanting to give him something to watch maybe, but she ends up blushing, cheeks doing dark, and she drops her head back onto the bed with a laugh ]
( stupidly, his spider senses track the travel pattern of her bra as she divests it and tugs it free and tosses it somewhere. it's not quite as easy as hitting snooze on his spider powers, but willfully ignoring them in favor of the salt on Nancy's skin does wonders. sex isn't a one man show, Peter Parker, and the girl is trying to make some positive changes in position, here. so instead of being a stubborn wall, he relents, keening toward her until suddenly she's gone, his senses practically sizzling in her absence. pointlessly dazed from whiplash, almost, hands spread across her comforter half dragged into her bed but not entirely yet.
and it turns out, patience is a virtue. shifting his weight onto one palm, then the other, crawling after her slowly and mostly just watching her as she watches him. as her legs tuck closer and her fingers dip under the hem of her shorts and she works them off, a slow glide down her legs and they're gone. Peter is too focused on her, this time, for even his spider senses to bother letting him know about the pajama pants that went tumbling off the bed.
Nancy didn't seem. hugely. experienced? when they got together. not like she was a virgin, more that — well, shy maybe wasn't the right word, just... uncertain? sometimes there was just this look, like — like she wasn't sure she should. like spreading her legs open for him or asking for him inside of her was just too much or something. to be fair, beyond Gwen, Peter wasn't enormously experienced, either. and his exactly one sexual partner had been with someone that... well, they didn't use words, him and Gwen. she'd pull him somewhere or he'd move slow enough to let her drag him somewhere else if she wanted that instead. she'd trust a bite of her lip and the thunder of her heartbeat in his ears, amplified by his senses, would be enough for him to know what she liked, and what she didn't.
and it was! it really... it really was.
things are different, with Nancy. it's been a slow build, sure, pushing what they're used to. leaning into more, instead of shying away from it. saying out loud what they want, which is really kinda powerful. and showing it, holy shit, Nancy spreading her legs open for him to share the stain of arousal, how wet and ready she was just from talking about getting to control how fast he got off or even if he got off at all, the idea of working down into his greedy mouth until she was seeing stars, that... it's unbearable, almost, in this sticky demented heat. )
Nance, ( he groans, almost a little hopeless as he crawls after her, placing sloppy and wet kisses on her stomach and waist as his fingers tug at her underwear. because he can't just look at how wet she is, he wants to feel it, wants to be part of it, wants to coat his fingers and his cock in it. ) God, I want... I want you so bad. Waiting twenty minutes to be with you like this, I think... Am I gray, or something? I think it took ten years off my life. Easy.
( Peter laughs, knowing he's just brain spiraling at her, at this point, finally shifting to bear down on top of her, even as his fingers trace her folds. ) You're so beautiful. I want you about... about 100 different ways, I think, how the hell are we gonna just pick one? ( this is where Nancy and her practicality is so useful. Peter's brain, especially inspired by something, is a rocket fueled pingpong ball. bounding place to place, relentlessly, a thoughtless storm. Nancy has an articulate talent of plucking his interest and demanding it somewhere, and it's honestly a relief, sometimes. to know she will tell him exactly what she wants, and how. )
[ okay, so- okay. nancy's never tried to be coy about the fact that she finds just about everything about peter ridiculously attractive, in pretty much every way someone can be. like, she really does seem to enjoy pointing out whenever he does or says things that she thinks are attractive, and she's probably used almost every synonym for handsome in the english language to describe how she sees him, at this point. because, shit, he just is. quite frankly, it's embarrassing how quickly she can go from composed, level, and mature, to heart-eyes, zoned out, bark bark bark! goofy, at any given time when he's around. so with all of that in mind, of course she's completely losing it over how hot he is right now - it's actually criminal how good peter looks when they're both in this kind of mood, how he moves, how he looks at her. the way he says her name.
especially when he calls her "nance". not a lot of people call her that, because she doesn't really let a lot of people call her that. it's not especially intimate or anything, it's common enough, but the divide between who does and who doesn't get to call her by that nickname sort of formed organically as she was growing up, because basically all the most important people to her called her by it, and because of that, she's become a little precious over it. when peter started calling her nance, it felt- pretty awesome. it felt right, like he wasn't overstepping. she actually kinda loves it when he calls her nance.
although with the way his arousal is coloring his voice right now, he could basically call her whatever the hell he wanted to and she'd be completely fucking charmed by it. so embarrassing. although it's hard to feel embarrassed when he's crawling forward to finish undressing her without missing a beat after she takes her shorts off, and when the path of his kisses up her body seems more than a little mindless. but like, the goal-oriented kind of mindless. her fingers lightly skim up the length of is arms, follow the bend of his shoulders, and she only adds a little more pressure behind it once she gets to his neck because yes, she's still very aware that his neck is sensitive, and she's not above taking advantage of that already, but she also doesn't want to give him the weird ticklish-sorta chill that comes with touches that are too featherlight. also, once they're in his hair, any sense of lightly skimming gets thrown in the trash. she threads her fingers through it in a way that's sort of like a head scratch, but also sort of like she's trying to find the best place to get a solid grip in it ( like she isn't already perfectly aware of exactly where that is, and how much of a grip or tug he likes at any given time, c'mon now ). mainly, she likes having her hands in his hair by the time he's close enough to kiss him, even if she only manages to steal a quick one before he makes her laugh.
she's about to tell him that he has nothing to worry about if he was going grey, because he would obviously be able to pull it off, but the words get lost in the needy whimper that follows that first slip of his fingers over her, and are abandoned forever once it becomes obvious that for the moment, he's really only touching her just to feel how wet she is. she's not pouting, exactly, but there's a pout to her lower lip as she lifts her face to bump his nose with hers, hips slowly rolling up against his hand. she wants more. right now. ]
We don't need to only pick one, just which one to start with. And I believe I already told you exactly what I want, handsome. [ it's a little funny, keeping her voice lower and batting her lashes when she's kinda holding him too close for either of them to be able to look at each other properly, pressing her forehead to his, but. oh well. she's more interested in being as close to him as possible, feeling him all over her. and it's probably kinda lucky for him that she has a habit of telegraphing when she's about to do something mischievous by smirking sort of, well, mischievously, but she does, then her nails are dragging down the back of his neck, and pulling back up again so she can grip his hair tight. ] Fuck me, first. Before anything else, let me feel you, make me come on your cock. I want- I need it.
Did you? ( Peter laughs in a huff, leaning back into the heated run of Nancy's mouth as her fingers leave fiery little reminders over his arms and shoulders, down his back. Peter trusts that they did decide on an itinerary, even if his brain couldn't possibly remember what it was when it was so determined to rapid fire skip through all the horny potentials. even if Nancy gets a little scattered when the heat pushes common sense out of the way, she still holds onto things better than he does. inside her first. okay, yes, mmmyup, that's a good place to start. she feels so perfect, just from his fingers sliding through her sex. the idea of her wrapped around him is maddening — especially if she keeps winding him closer like she's already trying to, a snare of legs and arms and chai tea scented kisses.
his face twists to the side to nestle in the crook of her throat and shoulder, forehead hot against her skin as his lips dust a few kisses across her collarbone and his hand spreads up her body. splays over her navel and plays along her ribs. Peter is allergic to compliments, most times, but he can take a handsome when Nancy is spread out underneath him, nipples peaked against his chest. he feels exactly how attracted to her and desperate for him she is, so trying to matrix under the point would just be ridiculous. Peter is gonna say something about condoms, make a stupid joke about how he's not sure he can take the twenty seconds without their skin pressed together to make it that far. and before he gets there, Nancy scores the skin of his back with her nails, arching up and tugging his hair.
there's not even words for it, the way that lights up his senses and coats his entire being in deeply delighted sensation. nope, just a guttural, delighted, frustrated noise — muffled only barely when Peter presses his mouth to Nancy's shoulder. fuck, fuck —- one of these days, surely! how easily and feverishly Nancy wants him, how she can play his desire like a fiddle, won't be so surprising. as it is, it is still all too easy to get a little lost in.
he should have taken more care to get as naked as Nancy is before he crawled in after her. it takes him a minute, bearing down on one elbow and sparing the free hand to guide their mouths bake together. and then he reaches down between them to drag off the basketball shorts that have barely done anything to hide how fucking hard he is. was when he walked in the door (oop. window), just from thinking about this — and now they're in the middle of it, the taste of Nancy on his tongue and her tiny (he can't help it, the caveman part of him notes it every time he's on top of her, how every part of her is smaller than he is), perfect frame moving against his. soft in all the right places and oh-so-sweet when holds him closer. wraps around him. arches against him, maybe not even on purpose, just instinct to have him inside of her.
getting his shorts down far enough is about all he can manage. this is not the time to strip down entirely, he really can't spare the distance. leaving them loose around his thighs works just as well, because when he presses back down he can grind his cock bare against Nancy's heat, spread and open for him. ) You feel so ... good. God — ( it takes all the self control in the world not to just sink inside her like this, nothing between them — but the same paranoia that kept him from handing his blood off to Harry requires he be careful. Peter really doesn't know what would happen, if he wasn't, and he's not okay with Nancy being the one to suffer for it.
instead of departing from her, though, he winds an arm around her and drags her with him closer to the side of the bed, instead of the comfortable nest in the middle of it. unfortunately from there, he has to sit up, kneels with his knees pinned beside Nancy's thighs to dig in her bedside table. he can't help himself, a feverish dialogue even with the foil in his teeth, or as he fusses with the latex. ) I need it too. Wrapped around me, the... the way you move? God, Nancy, it's so hot. I need you so bad, all the time. You know that? If you try and edge me I'm probably going to blow all over the sheets, just thinking about you touching me. I don't know if I can do it, but I want to. Mmm, god, I want to —
( did he get carried away? maybe. mostly. yes. in his defense, looking down on Nancy like this as he tries to jack himself off and get a condom on requires him to say something. his mind needs to keep moving or he'll devolve into animalistic instincts and just bury as deep inside of her as he can, responsibility and protection be damned. )
Yes. [ she laughs, because maybe it's mean of her to expect that he'd be able to remember the one specific thing she said she wanted first, out of all the dirty things she texted him, but it's not like she's about to hold him against him. not when he's here, and touching her, and groaning for her in a way she's pretty damn sure she'll never get tired of hearing. ] Told you I might lose my mind if you weren't here and fucking me in twenty minutes. Thirty? Something like that. [ she's smiling even as her eyes squeeze shut and her hips rock against the press of his fingers, because it's all just so- much. he's so much. he feels too good, and makes everything feel too good, and she's really never prepared for the way his reactions to her always makes her want to keep pushing. her brain automatically makes connections before she can help it - if he liked that, then he'll love this - faster than she can really keep up with. but that's kind of how it is with everything after they rile each other up this much.
she feels him shift over her, and luckily she's both too confused and too curious to interrupt whatever he's doing in favor of dragging him back down over her like a brat, because she'd actually much rather try to help him shove his shorts off. although that ends up spectacularly failing when he gives up the effort before she does, which means she's twisting the fabric of his shorts tight in her fist when he rocks up against her like that ] Shhhit, Peter. [ her breath catches around an almost flustered moan because they've never- he's always worn a condom with her, they've never tried it without, and she's wound up just enough to think that maybe that's about to change, maybe he can't stand waiting any longer than she can. she's on the pill, hasn't been with anyone besides him in, um, forever. he could.
but then he's gone, but not, and nancy's hands both move to grip his shoulders as he moves her ( damn, will she ever get used to that enough, how strong he is, or how he knows she doesn't mind / kinda likes / completely loses her mind when he picks her up or moves her where he wants her ), reluctantly lets them slip back down his arms once he has to pull away. she brings her hands up to rest near either side of here head, one finding a loose curl to wind around her fingers, the other lightly pinching the bedspread under it. she doesn't try to stop him when he sits up because she knows why they're over on this side of the bed, but she really has to focus on not following the urge to sit up so she can get her hands on him, or her mouth on him, or anything that might add more time between now and when he gives her what she wants. but it's difficult, near impossible, especially when he starts running his mouth. it makes her squirm a bit, impatient, lips parting when she can't help the way she's panting at this point. ]
I think you will, you'll be able to. Because- you would do anything for me, wouldn't you? So you'll let me bring you up as many times as I want to, or sit on your face while I touch you, or- fuck, kneel right over you, make you finger me for a little while.. And you'll be so good for me through all of it, I know it. Won't come until I tell you to, huh? God, I can't wait. I can't wait to see you like that. [ both hands are gripped tight in her blanket now, pulling it tight under her shoulders. her lip is caught between her teeth as she watches him, watches his hands ] Please, Peter. Hurry up. [ is she whining? yes. is she worried about that? no. ]
Where's the clock at on that? ( Peter wonders, a limited remaining streak of shithead before he goes completely caveman brain senseless. if it's 20, he's screwed. totally missed the deadline. 30, well, they might be okay. he really hauled ass uptown. Peter Parker is notedly terrible at meeting deadlines, so honestly bravo on being nearly on the clock for this one. it would figure that work and school, he can't manage to get anything done in an orderly fashion, but if Nancy Wheeler sets strict time requirements to being inside of her? apparently that is something Peter can be on time for.
any brainpower left for being a brat entirely fades as Nancy leans back, watches and taunts him all at once. it was pretty hot to have Nancy text him all the vivid things she's imagined — all the things she wants to do to him, do together. it's on a completely different plane of sexual enlightenment to have her say it to him directly. in person especially, no hint of shame or discomfort. with that rusty needy cast to her voice as she watches and writhes underneath him. it is moments exactly like this one that Peter wants to be able to capture, hold forever in a picture. show Nancy exactly how beautiful she is, how impossibly arousing she is without trying, in the heat of a moment they're sharing together.
not this time — he didn't bring his camera and he doesn't have nearly enough patience required to try and focus on taking a decent shot. but it's exhilarating that Nancy trusts him enough that she wants to try it. sooner, rather than later, hopefully — though their list of things to try is getting a mile wide, at this point. and maybe that's sort of thrilling, too. being in a place where he can think about someone in the long term. thrilling, sometimes terrifying. thankfully in the needy heat of this particular moment, the terrifying isn't really at the forefront. )
Holy shit, Nance — ( is about all Peter can manage to articulate, at first. it's all too overwhelming, compounded on the fact he sure isn't inside of her yet. thank god most of the heavy lifting is done on the condom front, because frankly after that spiel maybe he'd forget the reasons he's determinedly careful for just the satisfaction of sinking as deep in her as he could possibly manage. legs splayed across his lap, fingers knotted tightly in the sheets, she's perfectly spread and ready for him. there's nothing between them for when it comes down to giving her exactly what she needs from him. hell, what both of them need. the fact he's hard and desperate for her is no secret when there's nothing left between them but skin and heady breaths.
which makes it feel all the more perfect, when he finally seals them together. reaches between them to line their bodies together, and then press in and against her. bodies flush and her body arching into his as his cock fills her up. there's not enough grace to it to be an actual kiss, not really. he just wants to be close as possible when Nancy adjusts to him — as her body reacts when he can finally start to grind into her, grants both of them the satisfaction they're both desperate for. dissolves into a brainless spiral of want and need and horny. ) I want that too. I don't want to wait, either, but I don't think I could last. And I want to — As long as you want. God. And now I'm going to go crazy thinking about it, waiting for it. Waiting for you, just like this —
( well. not just like this. but at the same time, not not like this. he is devastatingly desperate for Nancy, so, honestly, keeping a running record of 100 different ways he wants her sounds about par for the course. )
[ holy shit, nance makes her laugh, the tops of her cheeks blushing dark, because it's easy to run her mouth when she's this turned on, but she never thinks ahead far enough to actually anticipate his reaction. she lifts both hands to hold onto his arms, slides them from his elbows up to his shoulders once he's leaning down closer to her again. peter is always so careful with her, but luckily he manages it without being frustrating about it. and right now that's in the way he's slow as he presses into her, but only just slow enough to give her body time to stretch comfortably around him, not slow like he thinks she's too delicate to rush this part. sometimes faster can be better, sometimes she's in the mood to feel outpaced, in a way, like she's just trying to keep up with him - but right now, this is perfect. she tucks her knees back a bit more so her thighs squeeze higher on his hips, heels bumping the back of his thighs as she pants against his mouth. it really is difficult to focus on properly kissing him at this point, so she only manages to lick his bottom lip with a needy whine before he starts that slow grind against her, making her brain truly check out for a few long moments.
using her words isn't currently an option, so her thighs tighten around him and her heels dig in to pull him even tighter against her, wanting him to keep moving just like that, as her head tips back into her pillows with a low groan, eyes sliding shut. she used to try and hold back some of the sounds he managed to pull from her, because she was so sure that groaning and grunting weren't exactly the sweet, feminine sounds most guys would want to hear from her, but... luckily that didn't last too long. mostly because peter seemed to love that she was so vocal sometimes. it's too easy to drop her insecurities when peter parker is watching her with his big doe eyes - whether they're bright with admiration, or darker with something a little filthy. so she lets him hear her, whether she's groaning, or making those mewling sounds he likes so much ( the ones she'll pretend don't sound anything like that, but she knows it's pretty damn true ). she blinks her eyes open to look into his, but they keep dropping to his mouth, and eventually she's reaching up to rub her thumb along his lower lip ]
Nh-hn, can't yet. Need you just like this now. [ she doesn't actual think he was suggesting they start in on that plan/challenge now, but acting like she does is kinda fun. like she has more control than she actually does, over the way things are going to play out now that they're finally in bed together again. he rocks in and her hips lift up to meet him as much as she can manage, against the way they're pinned to the bed under his- and it probably doesn't seem like much, but it makes him sink into her just a touch deeper, pulling another sound from her chest. ] --oh fuck, babe, that's- [ really doing it for her, apparently, because instead of waiting to match the slow press of him grinding into her again, she squirms under him, moving to change the angle of him inside her and letting gravity do the rest. she's not sure her eyes literally cross before she squeezes them shut, but there's a small chance they definitely did, because that's how stupid turned on she is at this point. which is a little scary, considering they only just got started, but.. scary in a good way. scary sexy. her thumb trips lower, to his chin, pressing down so she can catch his lower lip between her lips and bite down, sucking on it softly before letting go ] You feel so good it's insane. I want it like - nnh - I need you to fuck me deep like this, please, I can handle it, I promise.
( if there really was some guy out there that thought the heady noises Nancy tends to make when she's getting what she wants and feeling too much and her senses are firing on overdrive aren't girly enough to be sexy — well, they're probably too stupid to ever hear a girl make them in the first place. Peter has steadily gotten more and more noises out of Nancy, the longer they're together. and it's not like he thought he cared that much! about making his lover vocal. and then Nancy had nearly cried out after an orgasm, the sort of noise that got his neighbor to leave a passive aggressive note on his door. and it isn't really about the passive aggressive note (even if it was funny), it's about the flushed pleased liquid way she gets after. the noises she makes are like the breadcrumbs on the trail, proof he's going in the right direction, giving her what she needs. of course he likes those noises, deep and dark and sharp as they can be sometimes.
the way she shifts to take more of him does feel like something, actually. maybe he's just completely crazy, or maybe his super spider senses can actually feel the difference. between in her and completing her, two bodies as close to being one as they can get. he grinds back against her, hiking his hips hoping for just a little more. shifting in and out, shallow strokes, just to enjoy the clench of her tight and desperate around him. the kisses have gotten sloppy and scattered, inaccurate and mostly just occasional half presses of lips filled with a lot of breath. it's still good, though it's even better when she mutters through how he is making her feel and what she wants from him next. maybe one day Nancy telling him exactly what she wants will be less evisceratingly hot. it just turns out, today isn't that day. )
Hmm, ( Peter mumbles, and damn, being smart and mouthy and flirty really did fade out the window fast once she was clenched around him, didn't it. ) Like this, ( he agrees, one hand pinning at her hip for traction, the other braced under her against the mattress. he pulls back just enough that Nancy will feel every inch as he sinks back inside her, s l o w to the point of nearly excruciating. ) Like that? Is that what you want?
( he knows, absolutely, from the I can handle it, that the slow and steady is not what she's angling for here. look, if Nancy is going to work his orgasm like a fiddle, on and off until she decides he gets to come? yeah, so, teasing and taunting her a little just seems fair, actually. )
[ look, nancy isn't thinking very clearly either, so she's sure that he's talking about how he's letting her feel all of him like that, and not the pace. her eyes fall shut when he starts to move, because it does feel good, it feels really good. perfect, when he bottoms out again. the way his hand fits over her hip, the slow slide of him, the deep stretch as he pushes in. she isn't rushing to touch him everywhere, all at once, but her hands move to his shoulders to slide down his arms then back up, one settling on the back of his neck while the other traces along his collar bone. she closes her eyes to focus on it, on everything.
and then, after four or five thrusts she realizes he isn't speeding up from that very deliberately unhurried pace. at all.
the corner of her mouth quirks up before she opens her eyes to look up at him again, because he's so damn annoying, but she so far gone that she's still so damned charmed by it. or something. mildly amused, even as she tries to rock her hips up, against the weight of his hand on her hip, bracing himself. fuck.
but it's fine, if he's going to be a jerk, then she can be a brat. even if the most she can manage at the moment is slowly tightening her grip on the back of his neck, enough to have her short nails digging into that spot that makes him go a little crazy when she presses kisses there. and, okay, she's picked up on the fact that his neck is sensitive in a lot of places, she hasn't pinned down a super secret little spot here, but that's not the point! she bumps her heels on the back of his thighs, pouting ]
Peter. [ her tone is bright, a tiny bit amused and a lotta bit turned on, which undermines that pout, but she can't help it. he's not fucking her exactly the way she told him to, but his alternative isn't terrible. so, so far from it, actually. he feels so good, and looks so good, and she wants-! him! to give her! what she asked for! the way she asked for it! damnit! but she's not too proud to try and hide how this is doing it for her, too. her eyelids start to drop as she pants against his lips, but she keeps watching him, doesn't let them close. ..not until he rocks his hips into her a little harder when his body's already pressed flush to hers, like he's trying to fuck her even deeper. ] Fuuuck, oh my god, you're such a jerk. [ she groans, jaw clenching, then relaxing again with a needier sound ] Fuck me harder, c'mon.
Jerk, ( Peter laughs, (laughs! he's proving Nancy's point), before her nails knick at that pressure point in his neck. the spot his senses like to sizzle, good or bad or anything inbetween. it does something to him when she touches him there. somehow it's like the calming lull of a kitten getting scruffed and all of his senses and nerves firing off wildly at once. it's weird how it can be both. maybe the point is it is good, even if it makes him shiver at the sensation, stalled out mid thrust as his body is over stimulated in the best sort of ways. needs a moment to recover, because suddenly he's lost in skin and sweat and the way she looks with heavy lowered lids and the heady demand, fuck me harder, ricocheting around in his ears.
slow is nice. he likes slow, sometimes. like when they were watching some movie and they forgot the watching part, because her hand ended up in his pants and then she's riding him, fingers tight in his hair as she grinds. or when he's still sore from getting thrown through a brick wall a couple days prior and even though he looks better, more or less, slow is still all he can manage but he still wants her. needs her, maybe. slow is good when it is less about clawing, needy, demanding desire. slow isn't an I need it sort of thing.
and the instinctual way her body arcs and rocks to meet him, the way her arms and hands keep tightening on any part of him she can reach, how her skin is so hot — it's not just Nancy, either. the way his cock feels heavy and aching, and they've barely started, is a sign too. this isn't a take it slow sort of situation. and even if Peter does like being a punk about as much as Nancy likes being a brat, there's only so long he can keep it up when he wants more than low and slow, too.
it took some... time. to try fast, to try hard. being strong enough to lift a city bus, it does make the idea of losing control a little intimidating. terrifying, even. a lot more so, when he's felt the consequences of what his super strength could really do to someone. it took awhile, to try again. in all sorts of ways. and when they finally were there, it made Nancy a complete monster. she doesn't realize exactly how much practice she's given him, in finding the right balance of getting lost in the sensation and finding an anchor in the way Nancy responds to him and fucks back against him. bucking and demanding. it always takes him a moment, to find his bearings. but Nancy will know she got her way when he spreads her thighs open to sit up and grip her there.
the first thrust is the last he can manage slow and excruciating. because he needs more, just like she needs more. that satisfying smack of their bodies coming together, the feeling of her in his bones. ) Like that? ( he pants, and god, if he had all of his brain cells working right now, he'd feel like such a cheesy cliche. what a dumb thing to say, and he already said it once! but he can't think of anything else and slowing down to figure it out would require slowing down, and now that he's started to pump into her, harder and faster; he's not stopping until both of them can't take any more. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
i'll make it up to you i promise
but okay okay okay
no more texting
i swear if you're not here and fucking me within the next
30 minutes tops
i think i might actually lose my mind
skip the F train!!
doesn't run those last few stops this late don't forget
just wait for the A it's worth it
whaaaaat the hell am i doing you taught ME that
be safe make good choices i'll see you soon
[ the truest sign that her brain is just not in control anymore - grammar is nowhere to be found. ]
actions ✨
is it hot? or am i just that far gone
( he's assuredly not taking ANY train, most of the time getting to Nancy's apartment will be trying to talk down his hard on so nobody notices Spider-Man webslinging through the streets with an obvious erection. )
okayokay okay
no texting just going to where you are
asap
( it does take him about twenty minutes, all told. perhaps still a suspiciously limited amount of time, all the same. how Nancy isn't onto Peter yet is kind of laughable. maybe she's just too horny? who knew that was such a successful distraction.
it's really especially bad to not start asking some hard questions when Peter is absolutely still allergic to doors. Nancy's fire escape is only a couple stories, is that a good excuse for why he uses her window instead of her door? absolutely not, but here he is rap-tap-tapping anyway. )
no subject
anyway, her cheeks are comically flushed, in that it almost looks like she was in the middle of making out with someone for a long while before he knocked, and only split apart to catch her breath and answer the ..window. she's more than a little out of her mind. which is totally why she's shoving the window open as wide as it goes, despite the fact that it causes a rush of sticky summer air into the room when she's already feeling too hot ( the way she could almost hear the way her dad would bitch and moan about the central air bill skyrocketing with every second she leaves it open, ugh. go to hell, ted. ), and instead of giving him room to climb through before shutting it behind him, she only waits until he's about halfway through the window before she crowding his space and grabbing the front of his shirt so she can drag him in for a kiss.
she takes a small step back, ready to pull him towards her bed, but... what, she's really expecting him to be able to keep up with her, despite the whole window thing? not just the window, there's even a storage bench right under it he needs to clear before he's fully in her room. so she stops, laughs against his mouth. she gives him two more kisses, then helpfully takes two small steps back, and even lets go of his shirt. ]
Hey there.
no subject
he sure didn't, though, because sitting on her roof for fifteen minutes to make his arrival time a little more plausible would have been fifteen minutes that he wasn't touching Nancy, or kissing Nancy, or making good on all the delicious promises they'd made over text message. Peter frankly would have padded out how much through-a-window making out they could have done just because he finds Nancy's breathless, giddy kisses a lot more compelling than crawling over her furniture.
eventually Nancy backs up, confirming her as the more sensible of the two. which nobody is surprised by. that is enough for Peter to commit to entering her room properly and crawl over her throw pillows and bench and maybe even a forgotten book she must have been reading there at some point to join her in her room. considering how gangly awkward teenage boy he is, Peter manages to do so with strange dexterity. spider superpowers coming in clutch, once again. )
Hi, ( Peter says, grin almost verging on ridiculous. ) Where were we? ( as if he possibly forgot. kissing. lots and lots of kissing, and then more than kissing. his mind is a little fuzzy on what that more entailed, though they have lots of delightful options and Peter is at peace with whichever they end up on. their start, though, has to be pressing back against her because the required distance to not trip face first through her window is simply too distant now that he's in. so Peter winds her back close with a hand knotting in her hair and a palm sliding under the fabric of her shirt, leading with his mouth and walking Nancy toward her bed. )
no subject
because yeah, sometimes she can get a little, ah, loud? when she's making all those sounds they were just talking about. but who cares if someone hears her? she doesn't. and the temperature in her room is about two minutes away from officially matching the summer heat outside, but that's fine too, actually. peter always seems to run a little warm, but right now he's just hot ( haha, okay always hot, but anyway!! ) all over, and her light summer clothes do nothing to filter it. the hand he tucks under her shirt is searing, actually, and so is the one in her hair. but it's possible the flush of heat she's feeling from that is actually the perfect grip he has there. it's the kind that makes her pant into their kiss, makes her bite down into his lower lip and tug. and there's sweat under her palm where it settles on the back of his neck and holds on tight, but it turns out she's actually totally down to just... lean into that. so what if they sweat a little more than they usually do? she's learning so many new things about herself today.
the back of her knees bump into her bed before she's expecting them to, and luckily her jaw drops instead of biting him harder, but the hand on the back of his neck grips tighter, and the hand that was resting against his chest is bunched in his t-shirt, stretching the collar. oops. it doesn't stop her from getting right back into making out with him for a little while longer, but eventually she makes a decisive sound against his lips, kissing him one more time, then slowly drops to take a seat right there on the edge of her bed. she tips her head back into his hand, not wanting him to let her go of her hair yet ]
You took the train like this? [ the bed actually puts her at a height where she'd have to look down to see the way her hands are sliding up over the front of his shorts, pointedly framing the bulge that was already somewhat visible under the loose fabric, but there's no hiding it now that she's got her hands on him. but she really does like looking up at him from this angle, she wasn't just talking shit. so she keeps watching his face even as her hands slide up towards his hips, then back down his thighs, rubbing close to his dick, but not enough to give him any real friction. ] Peter.
no subject
besides, if her neighbors get an earful... turns out Peter is kind of proud of the wild little noises he can get out of Nancy Wheeler. let them listen.
she settles on the bed and that deprives him slightly from the heat of her mouth, though Peter is willing to make the sacrifice. his fingertips streak a little higher up her back, and her shirt hikes up after it, leaving her hair pleasantly disheveled from a combination of undressing and greedy fingers in it by the time he gets it up and off and gone. god only knows where her shirt lands, because Peter no longer has it in him to pay attention to it once it is off of her.
Nancy strokes him through jeans and his fingers are back in her hair to knot in a grip there, to lead her face back up to kiss her again. more heat and breath and tongue than anything else at this point. he's had to sacrifice some of his layers to the heat, which thankfully means there's less to take off before they'll be skin on skin. he mutters a noise of impatience at her palm sliding everywhere but where he wants it. because yeah, he's been wanting Nancy to touch him for so much longer than it took him to get here. finally finally finally having her is enough to make his thoughts blur together, and all of them starting and ending with Nancy. how she looks, how she smells, how she feels. the heat of her, the quiet admonishment in her tone, the way her mouth is quirking up into a smug little smile that she left him hard and horny to book it across town. )
Got some funny looks. ( not from the train. people on the street. though, mostly the looks were from Spider-Man wearing a short sleeved t-shirt and his mask lazily slapped on the top, like it wasn't weird for him to websling around looking like a slouchy skater from the neck down. ) The things you do to me, ( Peter says, and it might be the last coherent thought he has for awhile. because Nancy also has that effect on him, turns out, and Peter has given up pretending he doesn't feel it.
speaking of the slouchy skater look, Peter decides he'll divest himself of a shirt nearly as quickly as he divested Nancy of hers. the heat is almost too much, and without he feels like he can breathe a little better. or maybe that's bending back into her mouth, tilting her head to run his lips down her throat instead. )
no subject
that said, she's still breathless when he pulls back for a breath, listens to her tease him, like she has any room to actually talk. their conversation really did turn her on way, way to much, like, text messages shouldn't do that. sexting shouldn't make her wet, not like this. his timing is incredible, really, because her hands decided to take a detour, sliding up up up, and peter's shirt went right up up up with them. and yes, another predictable thing about nancy wheeler is that she absolutely gets distracted when a really hot guy is suddenly very shirtless, right in front of her. and she doesn't even need to be turned on beyond reason for that to happen. so her eyes look him over, taking in as much as she can, while her hands pretty much do the same. it's the pads of her fingers that press and drag down his torso, not her nails, not yet. although she does feel the need to get her mouth on him. now.
but peter's got other plans. and, well, she generally really likes peter's plans, especially when they start with kissing her neck. so maybe she can't get her mouth on him yet, but her hands are still free, and that's enough. more than enough. it means she can reach back to unhook her bra and let it slide down her arms, chucking it that way. his teeth are on her neck and she whines, her hand finding its way into his hair now, stay right there, as her head drops back to give him more room. but it's not long beforee she's bracing her other hand on the bed so she can try to move them back onto it. but wow, it's incredibly difficult trying to bully peter into moving anywhere, when he's determined to keep leaving those burning kisses all along her neck. so she stays just like that, fingers scratching through his hair, until she feels a harsh breath against her neck, and that's when she tugs away.
and maybe she originally just planned on backing up until she felt her pillows against her back, beckon him to meet her there if he hadn't moved along with her, but she stops right in the middle of the bed instead. because she, apparently, literally can't wait any longer before getting out of her shorts. luckily she has enough presence of mind to not just roll back and scramble to tug them off just to throw them into the void, and instead she slows it down, tucking her knees against her chest so she can slowly pull them off. but- just her shorts. because maybe she wants to make sure he can see the effect he has on her before he gets to touch her there, just from the fact that her panties are wet enough to cling to her skin. so even once her shorts are gone and she can lower her legs again, she just lets them butterfly open from there, hips shifting up so it's easy to stay that way. she reaches down to rub the flats of her fingers over herself, wanting to give him something to watch maybe, but she ends up blushing, cheeks doing dark, and she drops her head back onto the bed with a laugh ]
It's definitely not just you.
no subject
and it turns out, patience is a virtue. shifting his weight onto one palm, then the other, crawling after her slowly and mostly just watching her as she watches him. as her legs tuck closer and her fingers dip under the hem of her shorts and she works them off, a slow glide down her legs and they're gone. Peter is too focused on her, this time, for even his spider senses to bother letting him know about the pajama pants that went tumbling off the bed.
Nancy didn't seem. hugely. experienced? when they got together. not like she was a virgin, more that — well, shy maybe wasn't the right word, just... uncertain? sometimes there was just this look, like — like she wasn't sure she should. like spreading her legs open for him or asking for him inside of her was just too much or something. to be fair, beyond Gwen, Peter wasn't enormously experienced, either. and his exactly one sexual partner had been with someone that... well, they didn't use words, him and Gwen. she'd pull him somewhere or he'd move slow enough to let her drag him somewhere else if she wanted that instead. she'd trust a bite of her lip and the thunder of her heartbeat in his ears, amplified by his senses, would be enough for him to know what she liked, and what she didn't.
and it was! it really... it really was.
things are different, with Nancy. it's been a slow build, sure, pushing what they're used to. leaning into more, instead of shying away from it. saying out loud what they want, which is really kinda powerful. and showing it, holy shit, Nancy spreading her legs open for him to share the stain of arousal, how wet and ready she was just from talking about getting to control how fast he got off or even if he got off at all, the idea of working down into his greedy mouth until she was seeing stars, that... it's unbearable, almost, in this sticky demented heat. )
Nance, ( he groans, almost a little hopeless as he crawls after her, placing sloppy and wet kisses on her stomach and waist as his fingers tug at her underwear. because he can't just look at how wet she is, he wants to feel it, wants to be part of it, wants to coat his fingers and his cock in it. ) God, I want... I want you so bad. Waiting twenty minutes to be with you like this, I think... Am I gray, or something? I think it took ten years off my life. Easy.
( Peter laughs, knowing he's just brain spiraling at her, at this point, finally shifting to bear down on top of her, even as his fingers trace her folds. ) You're so beautiful. I want you about... about 100 different ways, I think, how the hell are we gonna just pick one? ( this is where Nancy and her practicality is so useful. Peter's brain, especially inspired by something, is a rocket fueled pingpong ball. bounding place to place, relentlessly, a thoughtless storm. Nancy has an articulate talent of plucking his interest and demanding it somewhere, and it's honestly a relief, sometimes. to know she will tell him exactly what she wants, and how. )
no subject
especially when he calls her "nance". not a lot of people call her that, because she doesn't really let a lot of people call her that. it's not especially intimate or anything, it's common enough, but the divide between who does and who doesn't get to call her by that nickname sort of formed organically as she was growing up, because basically all the most important people to her called her by it, and because of that, she's become a little precious over it. when peter started calling her nance, it felt- pretty awesome. it felt right, like he wasn't overstepping. she actually kinda loves it when he calls her nance.
although with the way his arousal is coloring his voice right now, he could basically call her whatever the hell he wanted to and she'd be completely fucking charmed by it. so embarrassing. although it's hard to feel embarrassed when he's crawling forward to finish undressing her without missing a beat after she takes her shorts off, and when the path of his kisses up her body seems more than a little mindless. but like, the goal-oriented kind of mindless. her fingers lightly skim up the length of is arms, follow the bend of his shoulders, and she only adds a little more pressure behind it once she gets to his neck because yes, she's still very aware that his neck is sensitive, and she's not above taking advantage of that already, but she also doesn't want to give him the weird ticklish-sorta chill that comes with touches that are too featherlight. also, once they're in his hair, any sense of lightly skimming gets thrown in the trash. she threads her fingers through it in a way that's sort of like a head scratch, but also sort of like she's trying to find the best place to get a solid grip in it ( like she isn't already perfectly aware of exactly where that is, and how much of a grip or tug he likes at any given time, c'mon now ). mainly, she likes having her hands in his hair by the time he's close enough to kiss him, even if she only manages to steal a quick one before he makes her laugh.
she's about to tell him that he has nothing to worry about if he was going grey, because he would obviously be able to pull it off, but the words get lost in the needy whimper that follows that first slip of his fingers over her, and are abandoned forever once it becomes obvious that for the moment, he's really only touching her just to feel how wet she is. she's not pouting, exactly, but there's a pout to her lower lip as she lifts her face to bump his nose with hers, hips slowly rolling up against his hand. she wants more. right now. ]
We don't need to only pick one, just which one to start with. And I believe I already told you exactly what I want, handsome. [ it's a little funny, keeping her voice lower and batting her lashes when she's kinda holding him too close for either of them to be able to look at each other properly, pressing her forehead to his, but. oh well. she's more interested in being as close to him as possible, feeling him all over her. and it's probably kinda lucky for him that she has a habit of telegraphing when she's about to do something mischievous by smirking sort of, well, mischievously, but she does, then her nails are dragging down the back of his neck, and pulling back up again so she can grip his hair tight. ] Fuck me, first. Before anything else, let me feel you, make me come on your cock. I want- I need it.
no subject
his face twists to the side to nestle in the crook of her throat and shoulder, forehead hot against her skin as his lips dust a few kisses across her collarbone and his hand spreads up her body. splays over her navel and plays along her ribs. Peter is allergic to compliments, most times, but he can take a handsome when Nancy is spread out underneath him, nipples peaked against his chest. he feels exactly how attracted to her and desperate for him she is, so trying to matrix under the point would just be ridiculous. Peter is gonna say something about condoms, make a stupid joke about how he's not sure he can take the twenty seconds without their skin pressed together to make it that far. and before he gets there, Nancy scores the skin of his back with her nails, arching up and tugging his hair.
there's not even words for it, the way that lights up his senses and coats his entire being in deeply delighted sensation. nope, just a guttural, delighted, frustrated noise — muffled only barely when Peter presses his mouth to Nancy's shoulder. fuck, fuck —- one of these days, surely! how easily and feverishly Nancy wants him, how she can play his desire like a fiddle, won't be so surprising. as it is, it is still all too easy to get a little lost in.
he should have taken more care to get as naked as Nancy is before he crawled in after her. it takes him a minute, bearing down on one elbow and sparing the free hand to guide their mouths bake together. and then he reaches down between them to drag off the basketball shorts that have barely done anything to hide how fucking hard he is. was when he walked in the door (oop. window), just from thinking about this — and now they're in the middle of it, the taste of Nancy on his tongue and her tiny (he can't help it, the caveman part of him notes it every time he's on top of her, how every part of her is smaller than he is), perfect frame moving against his. soft in all the right places and oh-so-sweet when holds him closer. wraps around him. arches against him, maybe not even on purpose, just instinct to have him inside of her.
getting his shorts down far enough is about all he can manage. this is not the time to strip down entirely, he really can't spare the distance. leaving them loose around his thighs works just as well, because when he presses back down he can grind his cock bare against Nancy's heat, spread and open for him. ) You feel so ... good. God — ( it takes all the self control in the world not to just sink inside her like this, nothing between them — but the same paranoia that kept him from handing his blood off to Harry requires he be careful. Peter really doesn't know what would happen, if he wasn't, and he's not okay with Nancy being the one to suffer for it.
instead of departing from her, though, he winds an arm around her and drags her with him closer to the side of the bed, instead of the comfortable nest in the middle of it. unfortunately from there, he has to sit up, kneels with his knees pinned beside Nancy's thighs to dig in her bedside table. he can't help himself, a feverish dialogue even with the foil in his teeth, or as he fusses with the latex. ) I need it too. Wrapped around me, the... the way you move? God, Nancy, it's so hot. I need you so bad, all the time. You know that? If you try and edge me I'm probably going to blow all over the sheets, just thinking about you touching me. I don't know if I can do it, but I want to. Mmm, god, I want to —
( did he get carried away? maybe. mostly. yes. in his defense, looking down on Nancy like this as he tries to jack himself off and get a condom on requires him to say something. his mind needs to keep moving or he'll devolve into animalistic instincts and just bury as deep inside of her as he can, responsibility and protection be damned. )
no subject
she feels him shift over her, and luckily she's both too confused and too curious to interrupt whatever he's doing in favor of dragging him back down over her like a brat, because she'd actually much rather try to help him shove his shorts off. although that ends up spectacularly failing when he gives up the effort before she does, which means she's twisting the fabric of his shorts tight in her fist when he rocks up against her like that ] Shhhit, Peter. [ her breath catches around an almost flustered moan because they've never- he's always worn a condom with her, they've never tried it without, and she's wound up just enough to think that maybe that's about to change, maybe he can't stand waiting any longer than she can. she's on the pill, hasn't been with anyone besides him in, um, forever. he could.
but then he's gone, but not, and nancy's hands both move to grip his shoulders as he moves her ( damn, will she ever get used to that enough, how strong he is, or how he knows she doesn't mind / kinda likes / completely loses her mind when he picks her up or moves her where he wants her ), reluctantly lets them slip back down his arms once he has to pull away. she brings her hands up to rest near either side of here head, one finding a loose curl to wind around her fingers, the other lightly pinching the bedspread under it. she doesn't try to stop him when he sits up because she knows why they're over on this side of the bed, but she really has to focus on not following the urge to sit up so she can get her hands on him, or her mouth on him, or anything that might add more time between now and when he gives her what she wants. but it's difficult, near impossible, especially when he starts running his mouth. it makes her squirm a bit, impatient, lips parting when she can't help the way she's panting at this point. ]
I think you will, you'll be able to. Because- you would do anything for me, wouldn't you? So you'll let me bring you up as many times as I want to, or sit on your face while I touch you, or- fuck, kneel right over you, make you finger me for a little while.. And you'll be so good for me through all of it, I know it. Won't come until I tell you to, huh? God, I can't wait. I can't wait to see you like that. [ both hands are gripped tight in her blanket now, pulling it tight under her shoulders. her lip is caught between her teeth as she watches him, watches his hands ] Please, Peter. Hurry up. [ is she whining? yes. is she worried about that? no. ]
no subject
any brainpower left for being a brat entirely fades as Nancy leans back, watches and taunts him all at once. it was pretty hot to have Nancy text him all the vivid things she's imagined — all the things she wants to do to him, do together. it's on a completely different plane of sexual enlightenment to have her say it to him directly. in person especially, no hint of shame or discomfort. with that rusty needy cast to her voice as she watches and writhes underneath him. it is moments exactly like this one that Peter wants to be able to capture, hold forever in a picture. show Nancy exactly how beautiful she is, how impossibly arousing she is without trying, in the heat of a moment they're sharing together.
not this time — he didn't bring his camera and he doesn't have nearly enough patience required to try and focus on taking a decent shot. but it's exhilarating that Nancy trusts him enough that she wants to try it. sooner, rather than later, hopefully — though their list of things to try is getting a mile wide, at this point. and maybe that's sort of thrilling, too. being in a place where he can think about someone in the long term. thrilling, sometimes terrifying. thankfully in the needy heat of this particular moment, the terrifying isn't really at the forefront. )
Holy shit, Nance — ( is about all Peter can manage to articulate, at first. it's all too overwhelming, compounded on the fact he sure isn't inside of her yet. thank god most of the heavy lifting is done on the condom front, because frankly after that spiel maybe he'd forget the reasons he's determinedly careful for just the satisfaction of sinking as deep in her as he could possibly manage. legs splayed across his lap, fingers knotted tightly in the sheets, she's perfectly spread and ready for him. there's nothing between them for when it comes down to giving her exactly what she needs from him. hell, what both of them need. the fact he's hard and desperate for her is no secret when there's nothing left between them but skin and heady breaths.
which makes it feel all the more perfect, when he finally seals them together. reaches between them to line their bodies together, and then press in and against her. bodies flush and her body arching into his as his cock fills her up. there's not enough grace to it to be an actual kiss, not really. he just wants to be close as possible when Nancy adjusts to him — as her body reacts when he can finally start to grind into her, grants both of them the satisfaction they're both desperate for. dissolves into a brainless spiral of want and need and horny. ) I want that too. I don't want to wait, either, but I don't think I could last. And I want to — As long as you want. God. And now I'm going to go crazy thinking about it, waiting for it. Waiting for you, just like this —
( well. not just like this. but at the same time, not not like this. he is devastatingly desperate for Nancy, so, honestly, keeping a running record of 100 different ways he wants her sounds about par for the course. )
no subject
using her words isn't currently an option, so her thighs tighten around him and her heels dig in to pull him even tighter against her, wanting him to keep moving just like that, as her head tips back into her pillows with a low groan, eyes sliding shut. she used to try and hold back some of the sounds he managed to pull from her, because she was so sure that groaning and grunting weren't exactly the sweet, feminine sounds most guys would want to hear from her, but... luckily that didn't last too long. mostly because peter seemed to love that she was so vocal sometimes. it's too easy to drop her insecurities when peter parker is watching her with his big doe eyes - whether they're bright with admiration, or darker with something a little filthy. so she lets him hear her, whether she's groaning, or making those mewling sounds he likes so much ( the ones she'll pretend don't sound anything like that, but she knows it's pretty damn true ). she blinks her eyes open to look into his, but they keep dropping to his mouth, and eventually she's reaching up to rub her thumb along his lower lip ]
Nh-hn, can't yet. Need you just like this now. [ she doesn't actual think he was suggesting they start in on that plan/challenge now, but acting like she does is kinda fun. like she has more control than she actually does, over the way things are going to play out now that they're finally in bed together again. he rocks in and her hips lift up to meet him as much as she can manage, against the way they're pinned to the bed under his- and it probably doesn't seem like much, but it makes him sink into her just a touch deeper, pulling another sound from her chest. ] --oh fuck, babe, that's- [ really doing it for her, apparently, because instead of waiting to match the slow press of him grinding into her again, she squirms under him, moving to change the angle of him inside her and letting gravity do the rest. she's not sure her eyes literally cross before she squeezes them shut, but there's a small chance they definitely did, because that's how stupid turned on she is at this point. which is a little scary, considering they only just got started, but.. scary in a good way. scary sexy. her thumb trips lower, to his chin, pressing down so she can catch his lower lip between her lips and bite down, sucking on it softly before letting go ] You feel so good it's insane. I want it like - nnh - I need you to fuck me deep like this, please, I can handle it, I promise.
no subject
the way she shifts to take more of him does feel like something, actually. maybe he's just completely crazy, or maybe his super spider senses can actually feel the difference. between in her and completing her, two bodies as close to being one as they can get. he grinds back against her, hiking his hips hoping for just a little more. shifting in and out, shallow strokes, just to enjoy the clench of her tight and desperate around him. the kisses have gotten sloppy and scattered, inaccurate and mostly just occasional half presses of lips filled with a lot of breath. it's still good, though it's even better when she mutters through how he is making her feel and what she wants from him next. maybe one day Nancy telling him exactly what she wants will be less evisceratingly hot. it just turns out, today isn't that day. )
Hmm, ( Peter mumbles, and damn, being smart and mouthy and flirty really did fade out the window fast once she was clenched around him, didn't it. ) Like this, ( he agrees, one hand pinning at her hip for traction, the other braced under her against the mattress. he pulls back just enough that Nancy will feel every inch as he sinks back inside her, s l o w to the point of nearly excruciating. ) Like that? Is that what you want?
( he knows, absolutely, from the I can handle it, that the slow and steady is not what she's angling for here. look, if Nancy is going to work his orgasm like a fiddle, on and off until she decides he gets to come? yeah, so, teasing and taunting her a little just seems fair, actually. )
no subject
[ look, nancy isn't thinking very clearly either, so she's sure that he's talking about how he's letting her feel all of him like that, and not the pace. her eyes fall shut when he starts to move, because it does feel good, it feels really good. perfect, when he bottoms out again. the way his hand fits over her hip, the slow slide of him, the deep stretch as he pushes in. she isn't rushing to touch him everywhere, all at once, but her hands move to his shoulders to slide down his arms then back up, one settling on the back of his neck while the other traces along his collar bone. she closes her eyes to focus on it, on everything.
and then, after four or five thrusts she realizes he isn't speeding up from that very deliberately unhurried pace. at all.
the corner of her mouth quirks up before she opens her eyes to look up at him again, because he's so damn annoying, but she so far gone that she's still so damned charmed by it. or something. mildly amused, even as she tries to rock her hips up, against the weight of his hand on her hip, bracing himself. fuck.
but it's fine, if he's going to be a jerk, then she can be a brat. even if the most she can manage at the moment is slowly tightening her grip on the back of his neck, enough to have her short nails digging into that spot that makes him go a little crazy when she presses kisses there. and, okay, she's picked up on the fact that his neck is sensitive in a lot of places, she hasn't pinned down a super secret little spot here, but that's not the point! she bumps her heels on the back of his thighs, pouting ]
Peter. [ her tone is bright, a tiny bit amused and a lotta bit turned on, which undermines that pout, but she can't help it. he's not fucking her exactly the way she told him to, but his alternative isn't terrible. so, so far from it, actually. he feels so good, and looks so good, and she wants-! him! to give her! what she asked for! the way she asked for it! damnit! but she's not too proud to try and hide how this is doing it for her, too. her eyelids start to drop as she pants against his lips, but she keeps watching him, doesn't let them close. ..not until he rocks his hips into her a little harder when his body's already pressed flush to hers, like he's trying to fuck her even deeper. ] Fuuuck, oh my god, you're such a jerk. [ she groans, jaw clenching, then relaxing again with a needier sound ] Fuck me harder, c'mon.
no subject
slow is nice. he likes slow, sometimes. like when they were watching some movie and they forgot the watching part, because her hand ended up in his pants and then she's riding him, fingers tight in his hair as she grinds. or when he's still sore from getting thrown through a brick wall a couple days prior and even though he looks better, more or less, slow is still all he can manage but he still wants her. needs her, maybe. slow is good when it is less about clawing, needy, demanding desire. slow isn't an I need it sort of thing.
and the instinctual way her body arcs and rocks to meet him, the way her arms and hands keep tightening on any part of him she can reach, how her skin is so hot — it's not just Nancy, either. the way his cock feels heavy and aching, and they've barely started, is a sign too. this isn't a take it slow sort of situation. and even if Peter does like being a punk about as much as Nancy likes being a brat, there's only so long he can keep it up when he wants more than low and slow, too.
it took some... time. to try fast, to try hard. being strong enough to lift a city bus, it does make the idea of losing control a little intimidating. terrifying, even. a lot more so, when he's felt the consequences of what his super strength could really do to someone. it took awhile, to try again. in all sorts of ways. and when they finally were there, it made Nancy a complete monster. she doesn't realize exactly how much practice she's given him, in finding the right balance of getting lost in the sensation and finding an anchor in the way Nancy responds to him and fucks back against him. bucking and demanding. it always takes him a moment, to find his bearings. but Nancy will know she got her way when he spreads her thighs open to sit up and grip her there.
the first thrust is the last he can manage slow and excruciating. because he needs more, just like she needs more. that satisfying smack of their bodies coming together, the feeling of her in his bones. ) Like that? ( he pants, and god, if he had all of his brain cells working right now, he'd feel like such a cheesy cliche. what a dumb thing to say, and he already said it once! but he can't think of anything else and slowing down to figure it out would require slowing down, and now that he's started to pump into her, harder and faster; he's not stopping until both of them can't take any more. )