Pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Warnings: No BND spoilers, suggestive (and that's as far as I go)
Requested by: no one
Prompts: Inspired by this text exchange about Peter. Me: *Squishes his tummy* Them: :0
Pronouns: They/Them
Was it laundry day? Y/N had never seen Peter in a cropped vest and... Juicy Couture? At least it looked was accurate. Maybe that needed testing.
He had wandered in, not saying a word, and got to work. Y/N watched from where they sat in the corner, books abandoned on the floor. Whatever they were searching for was already forgotten.
Peter kept adjusting his top. Every few minutes he would tug it down his tummy. Each time becoming further apart until he became so engrossed in his work that he didn't notice. His soft belly just left on display for all to see. All being Y/N, staring like a creep.
His muscles would tense sporadically: perhaps when something confused or surprised him. He would just work through it, a cute little frown on his face as he focused. But he wouldn't tense deliberately, how he might if he felt the need to impress. The little self conscious thoughts disappeared as he worked, so his body was allowed to relax and soften. The minimal layers of fat created gentle curves for Y/N to admire. Especially around the belt.
They left the comfy chair to walk up behind Peter. His spidey sense had adjusted to them long ago so they weren't registered as a threat.
Y/N was behind him in an instant, snaking their arms around his waist to embrace him like so many times before. But just as Peter was about to lean into their touch, they grabbed a handful of his flesh.
"Wha- hey!" He jumped forward, hands landing flat on his desk to brace himself.
"Hey." They squeezed.
Peter tried to turn, but couldn't move his hands. An unfortunate side effect of his increased arachnid hormone production, was the increased stickiness. Meant to be a life saving measure, but more inconvenient than anything else. "What are you doing?"
"I'm just testing if the label is accurate. Don't worry about it." Y/N put more pressure on his tummy to encourage him to step back. Combined with his stuck hands, it created a more arched position for them to press against.
"Label-ah!" He let out a loud gasp as they grabbed his butt. "Y/N!"
"Hmm. I think I need to investigate further." Fingers trailed back around his abdomen, catching on his belly button in the process. His tummy --now tensed again-- provided the opportunity to explore down his v lines.
"You don't know by now?" His head dropped forward to watch their thumbs rub over his hip bones next.
"Can never be too thorough." Y/N knew very well the increased sensitivity was felt across his entire body too. They pressed a quick kiss to his exposed lower back.
"Mmph." Added to his neediness too, no matter how hard he tried to rein it in.
"What's that? Want me to help with your stretches too?" Their chest was flush with his back and hands grabbed both his thighs.
"Oh my- Y/N." His thighs clenched while his breath turned short and heavy through his open mouth.
Their hands kneeded down the insides, targeting pressure along the muscles. Y/N could feel the way they rippled even through the tracksuit bottoms. He gasped again as a foot kicked his legs apart.
"Y/N..." He tried to look back at them but they kneeled down to use both hands on one leg at a time.
"Peter." They knew his hands were still stuck tight to the table. "Are you going to relax yet?"
He nodded and breathed out shakily. He hadn't really relaxed for days (even years).
Y/N stood again to help pry his hands off his desk. Peter sighed, moving to hold their waist.
They grabbed his first, walking him backwards until the Juicy sequins pressed into the wood. Y/N kept pushing until he rested on the surface, feet barely able to touch the floor. They kneeled again.
"If not stretches, then how about a massage." He nodded. "Good boy."
