Peter Parker x Reader

Birthday Wishes✶

A/N- All credit goes to the writer blooming-violets on Tumbler

https://www.tumblr.com/blooming-violets/747704474383138816/private-5-bent-over-a-table-while-somethings

Pairings ---> Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Bent over a table while something's baking in the oven.

Warnings- SMUT(Hard, rough, kitchen sex)(reader is described as having a ponytail that is long enough for Peter to wrap around his hand and use as leverage)

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His birthday cake was nestled happily inside the heated oven.

She got up early to make it for his special day. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail to keep out of her face while she had prepped and she was still in her pajamas from this morning. She had planned to have the cake in the oven, get her shower done, and place out his presents on the table all before he woke up.

Peter, of course, had other ideas.

He leaned against the kitchen doorway with a lopsided grin as he sleepily took in the sight of her. She paused when she saw him there, silent as ever, and crossed her arms.

"You are not supposed to be awake for another hour," she chastised.

Thirty-five looked good on him. Every year he seemed to get more and more handsome.

His eye wrinkles grew as his smile widened. A strand of dark hair fell down his forehead and he absentmindedly brushed it away. He was shirtless with nothing but a pair of dark boxers to keep him decent.

She admired how defined his chest was. A hinting of his six pack was peeking out from just under the surface of his lean body.

"I smelled cake." His voice was thick and scratchy with lingering sleep. Peter's morning voice was one the sexiest sounds she'd ever heard.

She smiled as she rolled her eyes. It had hardly been in the oven for more than five minutes and it was already enough to get him out of bed.

"The kitchen is a mess. I was going to clean it all up and have your presents out and I was going to be all dressed up and looking extra cute. You ruined it all with your stupid nose."

Peter laughed as he strode across the room to slip his arms around her waist. She looked up to admire him and wiped at a staining of toothpaste still clinging to the side of his lips. She caught it with her thumb and shoved it back into his mouth while he licked it off.

"You already look extra cute," he mumbled around her thumb.

"I'm literally wearing your old, hole filled shirt and bright pink fluffy pants. This is not how I wanted you to see me this morning. It's your birthday. I wanted it to be special." She tugged her thumb back with a huff.

Peter stepped back to appreciate her outfit in the morning light. She had already been in bed by the time he crawled through their window last night.

"I like it," he stated. "It's hipster."

She let out a laugh in response, "I don't think you know what hipster means, babe."

Peter shrugged, "It means you dress like a bum, right?"

"Oh my god, why don't you go back to bed and try this again in an hour when everything is all set up, okay?"

"No," he whined. He latched himself onto her back, snaking his arms tightly around her stomach to press her against him. "I'm up. It's my birthday. Say happy birthday to me and tell me you love me."