Hey Elle I Was Wondering If You Can Do A Oneshot Of Matt And Fem! Reader And Age Takes Matt Shopping

hey elle i was wondering if you can do a oneshot of matt and fem! reader and age takes matt shopping with her and she tries on some new clothes and matt is just being very handsy. thank you❤️

Yes omg this is so cute and also makes my heart race??

Pairing: Matt x fem!reader

Warnings: Mostly fluff + intimate touching

Summary: You go shopping for a new dress, and... Matt decides to join. 

“What even is a summer solstice party?” you demanded, tearing through the bottom drawer of your dresser to no avail. “And why don’t I have any fancy summer dresses?”

“Don’t you have that nice silky one?” Matt said, leaning against the doorframe and listening to the ruckus as you emptied your entire closet onto the bedroom floor. “You know, the one that hangs low in the back?”

“It’s midnight blue. More wintry looking, you know?” You paused and gave him a look. “You just like it because the back dips low.”

“Does it matter? I don’t think anyone is going to care if you’re not wearing vibrant yellow.”

“‘Does it matter?’” you repeated. “Yes, Matthew, it matters! I have a reputation at stake! The entire office is going to be there and I promise you that every single one of my coworkers will be expecting me to fit the summer theme because they’re all absolutely insane. Remember last Christmas? They practically had a laughing fit because I apparently had the audacity to show up in a normal sweater instead of one of those dumb ugly sweaters.”

“I think I have an orange tie somewhere in the back of my closet. At least, according to Foggy, it’s a ‘Lorax-as-shit-tie’.” He lifted his fingers in air quotes. “You could sling it over your shoulder and call it a summer sash.”

“Brilliant, Matt. You really missed your calling in fashion design,” you said dryly. “Yeah. This isn’t working. I’m going to have to make a run before the mall closes. What time is it?”

Matt’s hand ran over his watch. “Almost five.”

“Perfect. I’ll head to Columbus Circle.” You spun around, looking for your keys. “What’re you going to be up to this evening? Will you still be here when I get back?”

“I’m not going out tonight.”

“You’re not?” You appraised him suspiciously. “Why? You didn’t get injured last night, did you?”

“No. I just have a scheduling conflict.”

“A scheduling conflict with your deviling.” You crossed your arms. “I don’t buy it.”

He caught your arm and pulled you in closely. “I was thinking of going shopping tonight. Columbus Circle seems like a good place to go.”

Your mouth drifted open slightly. “You want to join me?”

“Well, it’s just a coincidence that you were planning on shopping tonight, but I suppose we could go together, if that’s what you want,” he said, giving you a teasing peck on the cheek. “It’s been awhile since I’ve gone out with you.”

“It’ll be boring, I’m warning you. There’s a reason every mall has a couple couches in the center where there’s always a few stray men on their phones.”

“I want to come with you. I miss you.”

“I’m right here.”

“I miss being out in the city with you,” he amended.

“I mean, I’d love to have you,” you said, bemused. “As long as you’re sure you want to come.”

Thirty minutes later, you had a better idea of why Matt had wanted to join you. You emerged from the changing room in a pastel orange slip dress, twirling for him as though he could see it. 

“Is this one okay?” you asked, ruffling the material for added effect. 

“How would I know?”

You gave him an indignant look. “Well, I assumed you were paying close attention to the wavelengths propagating from my twirl.”

The corners of Matt’s lips were lifted upwards in a smirk. Before you could blink, he was suddenly behind you and slipping his hands around your waist. 

“Feels good,” he said, and then he slid his hands down lower. “I approve. And as for the wavelengths, they’re... wavy.”

“Wavy? That’s all I get for a compliment?”

“Mm. I like the material. It’s soft, smooth.” He squeezed you and you gasped, glancing around surreptitiously. 

“No one’s around,” he assured you. “You should try on that other dress. The one with the lace trim.”

“It doesn’t exactly look appropriate for a work party.”

“Exactly." 

You rolled your eyes and returned to the changing room, giving him one last look before closing the door. He was seated on the bench, completely at ease and relaxed despite the atrocious pop music playing in the background and the baby wailing in its mother’s arms not fifty feet away. Surely the mall had to be painful for him. How could it not? You couldn’t imagine what it must sound and smell like; the constant cacophony of everyday life, all condensed within one building. 

Well. Doubtlessly he could use something else to listen to other than that crying child. 

“This goes way, way too low,” you said under your breath, grinning in spite of yourself at the way Matt was almost undoubtedly cocking his head to listen to you. “Definitely not appropriate for work.” You played with the strings on the dress, then smoothed out the fabric over your hips. It was almost painful not being able to see Matt’s reaction. You repeated the motion, drawing your hands out slowly as you passed them over every part of the dress, shaping it over your body. “Shit, did they mean for the dip in the back to go all the way—”

“Need some help?” Matt’s voice came from the other side of the door. Like a moth to light. 

“No,” you said, sighing dramatically. “It’s just taking me longer than expected. The dress has a thin, loopy back, and it’s all exposed, so I’m trying to tie the knot, but I keep slipping.” You actually had quite a firm handle on the knot and had already tied it. Whether Matt could tell was unknown. 

“Unlock the door and I’ll help.”

“Thank you, but I’m all set,” you said, holding back your laughter as you saw the shadow of his feet pace slightly on the other side. “I’ll just... I’ll try on the more work-appropriate dress. Besides, it must be boring for you to have to endure me coming out after each change, since you can’t actually see each dress, so I’ll spare you the trouble and just take this off now—”

His voice was a growl, guttural and low. “Let me in, sweetheart, before I kick down the door.”

There’s my devil. You popped open the lock, smiling weakly. “Ta-da.”

The door closed behind Matt as he entered, dropping the cane against the wall immediately and pushing your back into the mirror. He braced himself on either side of you, hands against the wall. You took a couple of shallow breaths; there was something about the way his jaw was tense, and the way the muscles in his lower arms were taut, that made your heart skip. 

“Enjoying yourself?” he murmured, moving his hands from the wall to gently push you down onto the seat. “Mind if I... feel your dress?”

He never fails to check in first. You smiled at him, warm love for everything about Matt Murdock palpitating in your chest. 

“Well, I wouldn’t want to buy it if I wasn’t sure it felt nice, right?” you said, your voice coming out in a squeak; your composure was completely shattered by the strong and blazing aura rippling off of him. 

His hands traced the back of the dress and then up your shoulders again, feeling every bit of the fabric and where the dress clung to your body; then they moved to your breasts, lightly assessing the cowl fold of the neckline at the end as though that had been his intention all along. 

“I think you should buy it,” he decided. 

“Oh, really? And what am I supposed to wear to the work party?”

“This one.” Without turning his body he plucked the third dress from the hook behind him, feeling the shape of the dress. “It’ll fit.”

“Show-off.”

“Only for you.” He brushed his hand against your arm again. “I’ll be waiting out here.” 

Sure enough, you came out from the changing room one last time to see him sitting placidly on the bench, rolling the cane back and forth in his fingers. He was the image of innocence as he stood up and inclined his head towards you. “Ready?”

“Unfortunately for my wallet, yes.”

He kept up the charade until you were in line, with people watching. You lifted up both dresses, admiring them — both were, you had to admit, very beautiful — when Matt’s hand suddenly slipped up your shirt and grabbed at your hips. 

“Matt!” You fought back a laugh and swatted his hand away. “People are watching!”

“Good. They’ll know you’re mine.”

“And there are children around. We’re going to traumatize them if you keep that up.” 

He lifted both hands, a mocking smirk on his face. “Alright.” And then he leaned in to whisper in your ear, his hand curving around the back of your neck. Goosebumps ran up your arms. “But I have something planned for when we get home.”

If you ever feel insignificant, remember that you are living on a planet that is perfectly placed by a star inside one of the 100 billion galaxies in the universe and that most of the elements that make you were formed in stars over billions of years and many star lifetimes... your existence is literally a miracle. You are literally one in a million. No, it's not always easy. Yes, sometimes it hurts. But you are a miracle... you are beautiful stardust thats perfectly placed on earth... There isn't another you out there. That is your superpower...You are radiant. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Don't let anyone take away your light.

@clarityinchaos

depressed!Reader

This is a really specific brand of hurt/comfort. I'm using this tag to cover fics regarding all kinds of mental health issues in the reader - depression, anxiety, self harm, eating disorders, etc. Read at your own risk and treat yourself with kindness. See #abusive relationship for anything in that vein, past or present

100 Days by @amchapel - tw self harm

Imagine Matt calming you down after an anxiety attack by @randomimaginesblog

Flicker by @galaxysgal - Matt comforts #depressed!reader

Stay by @trashmagines

i'll be in good company by @mattmurdockspainkink - You aren't feeling so well so Matt stops by to help

"Stay in Bed" Day by @nelson-et-murdock - Your anxiety is bad today and Matt takes care of you

Chamomile by @bucky-murdock-moans - Matt helps with your anxiety. Gentle angst, kind of fluffy

Scars drabble by @titan-sl8yer - Matt finds your self-harm scars

safe and okay by @mattmurdockspainkink - You're spiraling and Matt comes to comfort you

"I'll take care of you" by @mattmurdocksscars - a pre-smut drabble with anxious!reader

Stay by @cellophaine - depression, suicidal ideation

You think Matt deserves better by @pastafossa - #breakup

can you manage by @mvtthewmurdvck - #anxiety attack

matt comforting stressed reader by @mattmurdockspainkink

Triggered by @slutobrien - you wake up to a panic attack

Your Anchor by @reaperintheroses - #depression and #anxiety

Guardian Devil by @peterman-spideyparker - everything finally becomes too much but Daredevil talks you down, tw suicide

Good Enough by @19mrs-barnes17 - Matt stops by on a bad day

Happy Trans Day of Visibility 2023! I love being trans – the part that makes it difficult is the transphobes.

Tell me in the replies/tags/reblogs what trans joy looks like for you. :D

Transphobes do not touch this post.

Image ID: 10-image cartoon comic featuring Joey, a boy with short hair. Image 1: Joey smiles and gesticulates to the title of the comic which reads: “Accessing gender-affirming care as a minor has allowed me to experience trans joy as a transgender adult!”. The words “trans joy” are in large block letters the color of the trans flag. Image 2: A younger Joey wearing a sweater and boxers receives his first T shot from a nurse. The text reads: “I started testosterone 5 days before my 17th birthday after spending the year jumping through a bajillion hurdles. Today, my home state is trying to criminalize my care and specifically shut down the trans specialty clinic that cared for me. Throughout all of this false ‘debate’ about best-practice medicine, I have seen no politicians, reporters, or cis allies talk about trans joy.” Image 3: A younger Joey in a hoodie stands at the stove cooking. He is happy, and there are music notes around his head. The text reads: “When I realized that I was trans years earlier, the world became lighter. I suddenly had answers for why I felt the way I did, and I knew that I wasn’t alone. I found myself humming and singing again”. Image 4: Joey is posed stretched across the frame. He’s wearing suspenders and plaid pants and throwing up a peace sign. The text reads: “I discovered my fashion sense for the first time. I had never been happy in any clothing, but realizing that I was a boy let me explore and find the clothes that made me feel great”. Image 5: Joey’s hand holds up a phone, and on the screen are thumbnails of videos of his face. The text reads: “Most trans people can tell you the day they started hormones (or another transition milestone). It’s like having a second birthday! I’ve got a digital diary recording my monthly changes from the first 2 years.” Image 6: Joey sits on the ground next to a friend, and they are both drawing in notebooks and smiling. Joey’s friend has glasses, an undercut, earrings, and facial hair. The text reads: “I have the most wonderful trans friends who enrich my life every day. I am so lucky to be part of such a loving community”. Image 7: Joey holds hands with his boyfriend, who is a taller boy with long hair in a ponytail and facial hair. The text reads: “Realizing that I was a boy made me realize that I was gay. Up until then, I just thought that I couldn’t experience attraction at all (which is also perfectly normal, by the way!). A wonderful boy and I fell in love 5 years ago, and we get to watch each other grow. Image 8: Joey is shirtless and holding a toothbrush while his boyfriend hugs him from behind. They are both smiling. The text reads: “He often reminds me of how good I look, and boy do I know it! I love my trans body. It’s perfectly me!” Image 9: Joey is shirtless and showing his chest and top surgery scars. The text reads: “Like most places, my clinic does not refer minors for surgery. But when I turned 18, I got top surgery to remove my (bountiful) breast tissue. It’s one of the best things to ever happen to me. I adore my chest. I’ve been freed.” Beside a small doodle of a cat, the text reads: “My cat sleeps on my flat chest every night”. Image 10: Joey has his arms behind his back and is addressing the reader. The text reads: “In the midst of purposeful misinformation and frankly genocidal language and laws, I’d like us to remember the joy of getting to be ourselves. Gender-affirming care not only saves but enriches lives for people of all ages. The joy of being oneself is what the Right wants to eliminate. It is imperative that we preserve and encourage the continuation of trans joy by allowing all trans people to safely thrive.” The comic is dated March 31, 2023. End ID.

please, call me peter

DATE: JANUARY 6, 2023

summary: you haven’t been able to come with anyone besides yourself, making you think something’s wrong with you. once you go to the gynecologist, dr. parker shows you that you’re just fine.

request: yes yes

words: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering], small praise kink, dirty talking), and a cute ending.

note: shooting out requests like webs. sorry that was lame. if this makes you uncomfortable, do not read.

gynecologist!peter x female!reader

—

Your eyes scan the white room while you sit impatiently. Your heart lightly thuds in your chest and your fingers drum rapidly along your clothed thigh. The nurse had asked if you wanted to change into a hospital gown, which you politely denied. She gave you an indifferent expression before walking out, leaving you here.

You were at the gynecologist for one concerning reason; every time you had sex, you couldn’t come. Your previous relationship ended because you were unable to reach that euphoric high, which you believed was a ridiculous reason to leave someone. You weren’t as sad as you thought you’d be because you were too concerned with your own well-being to dwell on some bloke.

Before heading to the doctor, you had a quick hook-up, assuming that you and your ex just weren’t sexually compatible. But then you were proved wrong when you didn’t come. Again. You weren’t really the hook-up type, in fear of catching some unwanted disease or infection. Finally, you took matters into your own hands, literally, and masturbated with your fingers until you orgasmed all over your bed sheets.

See? It wasn’t impossible.

Then why couldn’t you come with other people? It had to be your fault. It had to be.

So, again, you were left here in the small hospital room sitting between empty stirrups with your ankles tightly crossed. The widening of the wooden door alerted you, your eyes shooting towards the man entering the room.

A guy? Your gynecologist was a guy?

You knew you were a decently healthy person because you were always on track with your appointments, even small check-ups. Because of your good wellness, you had never needed to go to the gyno. Until now, which seemed a bit nerve-racking all of a sudden.

The second the doctor turned around, you knew exactly why.

Warm, brown eyes peer at you with tenderness. Chestnut curls rest upon his head a little messily, but in the cutest way. He wore a professional lab coat over his casual clothing. His ribbed shirt and blue jeans seemed to match him perfectly. His cheeks appear a tinge pink when he smiles, welcoming and greeting you.

Oh shit.

“I’m Dr. Parker, and you are?” Dr. Parker asks as he plops onto his spinny chair. His eyes stare deeply into yours, causing your heart to race more than you’d like to admit. His voice was as attractive as his face, and you tried to convince yourself that he had to have at least one bad quality that you just haven’t seen yet, so you didn’t soak your panties.

“Y/N,” You blink to wash away the feeling of your nerves as your palms get clammy. “but you probably knew that already.”

“That is true, but I like for my patients to introduce themselves to me directly,” He states simply and you nod in response. Your sweaty hands interlocked over your thighs to ease yourself.

“So, what brings you in here today, Y/N?” Dr. Parker questions with a lick of his lips. He can’t help himself when his eyes drift nonchalantly, but quickly down your body. You were beautiful, which made it hard to concentrate on anything else, especially when you started talking. Your voice was silky, and he wanted to ask you more questions just so he could hear it more.

“I…” You were a bit embarrassed to share your reasoning. Was it common? Will he laugh at you? No, of course not, he’s a doctor! You battled with yourself in your head before spitting it out. “I can’t come during sex.”

Your jaw clenched as your hand practically hit your forehead in embarrassment. You couldn’t look at him because he was probably holding back a laugh. But you also couldn’t look at him because he was so handsome you might melt.

True be told, Peter already knew why you were here. He read the small report the nurse got before he entered. It was part of protocol and he wanted to hear you describe it yourself.

“That’s okay, darling. Nothing to be ashamed of,” He reassures gently as you remove your hand from your face. He smiles sincerely and you smile bashfully back. The nickname erupts butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t disregard the small wetness you feel trickle in your underwear.

When he asks, you go on to explain your situation in detail, even including the part about your ex-boyfriend dumping you. When Peter hears this, his jaw subtly clenches as irritation spreads through him.

Who breaks up with someone for that? He wanted to ask, but knew that was probably inappropriate. He does need to question you professionally though to ensure there’s nothing wrong. However, he thinks he already knows the answer.

“I’m going to ask you some questions that get pretty personal,” Parker faces his notes with you in the corner of his eye. You nod as your nervousness never fades and your heart beat remains quite fast.

Most of his questions were simple and straightforward, so you weren’t too ashamed to answer.

“Do you have any pain?”

“No.”

“Are you on birth control?”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“Two years,” You eyes strayed away from him, thumbs twiddling in your lap like an anxious child. He wonders how you got birth control without going to the gynecologist in the past, seeming as though you’ve had no history.

However, some questions made the heat rise to your cheeks. Your arousal worsened the more Dr. Parker spoke, his voice warm and soothing like honey.

“To clarify, you have orgasmed before, correct?” Peter was able to focus when his eyes were glued to his papers, but one glance at your adorable shyness and his cock was semi-hard in his boxers.

“Yes, I-I did it myself,” You hissed at yourself for stuttering. He made you so starstruck it was hard to form words. You didn’t meet many people like that in your life— now that you think of it, none at all. He surveys you for a moment you think was a little too long, and you tighten your ankles together at his burning gaze.

“Um,” He grunts, covering it up with a cough as his cheeks turn pink a tad more. Your lip subtly curls into a smile at his cuteness. Peter was nervous for the first time in a while, fingers shaking as he scribbled notes about you. He felt as silly as a child who had a crush on a classmate. “you seem very well.”

“So nothing’s wrong?” Your eyebrows crinkle in confusion, a lost expression cascading over your face when you feel like you’ve hit a dead end. You gaze at the floor, trying to understand.

“Not directly,” He says to reassure you. Your eyes meet his with a head tilt. Now, you were really confused.

“What do I do then?”

“Don’t have sex with idiots,” He grumbles, honestly hoping you didn’t hear it. But of course you did. Your heart rate quickens wildly in your chest at his blunt statement. “but to make sure, I’m going to check you, okay?”

Your eyes widen for a moment, not thinking you would have to be checked. Your thoughts immediately shoot to your soaked panties and how he’ll see your very visual arousal. Hopefully, he assumes it’s from nerves.

“Would you like to change into something more comfortable and accessible?” He asks, looking at your shirt with jean shorts. He checks most of his patients, so usually they would have been in a gown already. But at this hospital, the patient didn’t have to change, even though it was highly recommended. However, when they rarely denied the new wardrobe, the doctor had to undress the patient themselves. So far in Peter’s career, he’s only had to do that with incidents that were an emergency.

“No, thank you,” You answered with no explanation. Secretly, you hated the material of the gown and you swore it gave you rashes. Maybe you were allergic?

Dr. Parker nods once and turns to his little side table beside you. He slips on his blue gloves and tells you exactly what he’s going to do, so you’re not unprepared.

“And since you’re not in a gown, the protocol is that I must undress you myself,” Peter feels the burning red flame up his cheeks at his statement. Your eyes widen again at the image of the sensual action, but nod in understanding.

Who made that rule? You wanted to ask, but it seemed disrespectful. You honestly couldn’t tell if you loved or hated the person that invented that idea. Picturing Dr. Parker strip you only made a pool in your panties.

Peter’s gloved fingers unbutton and zip down your jean shorts with your permission. It was slow and steady, unlike your heart that was bouncing off the walls of your ribs. You know he could see your heavy breathing as your stomach rose up and down too quickly under the thin material of your shirt.

Your shorts were removed and then he was on to your underwear.

Peter’s cock pulsed in his jeans at the wet patch on your panties, his red blush never fading. He wanted to press the pad of his thumb against your throbbing clit. He would rub you over the flimsy fabric and then make you moan for him as he fucked you roughly with his fingers. He could assume that you were tight and tense because of your struggle to orgasm with another person, but the thought only made his cock twitch needily as he imagined you squeezing around him.

“Are you okay so far? And can I remove these?” He asks for consent and patiently waits. You nod, but he’s not having that. “Words, Y/N. I need you to say it.”

His demand caused you to clench around nothing as you stutter out a trembling yes, so he can proceed. Peter delicately removes your panties, sliding them down your supple legs and placing them with your shorts. You didn’t open your legs, but you knew he’d already seen the wetness leaking out of you.

“Okay, um,” His professionalism was fading from him. He wanted to devour you because you probably tasted amazing. The smell of your arousal filled his nostrils, making it hard to focus on anything. “Put your legs on these stirrups. I’ll help you.”

He guides your legs into the holders, strongly resisting the urge to gawk at your vulnerable area. Once you were settled, he looked down and nearly came right there. Arousal drowned your folds as your puffy clit poked out behind it all. He noticed the fluttering of your folds as the cold air hit your wetness. He wouldn’t need to use any lube on you for sure. Peter was losing his cool and was about to lose everything if he did not pull himself together.

“I’m about to start. Are you okay?” He could sense your nervousness from a mile away. He wanted to make sure you were okay, even if you’ve had sex multiple times before.

“Yes, doctor,” You reassure and his jaw subtly locks at his label leaving from your mouth. He avoids picturing his falling from your pretty lips, so he could focus on the task at hand. You didn’t notice, too caught up in your own thoughts of his fingers entering you. You wanted him to pound them into you mercilessly because you know he’d know all the right spots and special places to hit. You can imagine he’s soft and caring, and always gives immense pleasure to the woman.

You almost gasp aloud when you come to a realization; he probably has a girlfriend. Or a wife. A wife and kids. You don’t remember seeing a ring, but that doesn’t mean anything. Oh, God, you were daydreaming sexual thoughts about your gynecologist who would probably freak out if he could hear them.

“If it makes you more comfortable, my name is Peter. Sometimes that small detail helps the patients relax more,” He noticed your sudden panicked state and high tension in your legs, wanting to calm you down, so it doesn’t hurt. It was perfectly fine to be nervous, but it wasn’t fine for him to be this nervous. He’s a professional doctor, yet he’s thinking about ruining it all just to please you at this moment.

You feel the latex gloves graze your folds, making your heart jump up into your throat. Peter’s middle finger practically teases your entrance, and you hold back pathetic whimpers. Once he slips his middle finger inside, you release a shuddery moan. His finger stills, deep inside of you while he gives you a second to adjust.

“Relax for me,” You try not to clench around him, but you’re a lost cause when he begins to wiggle it around the tight space. Peter is struggling. His cock is about to burst at the seams while his middle finger sinks far inside you. Your clenching walls and hushed noises nearly make him moan. He sees you resisting the urge to moan and it’s killing him because he wants to hear you.

“You can moan,” Peter says, voice low and sultry. “It’s welcomed.” He curls his finger and slowly pushes in and out. You don’t hold back your moan this time as lust begins to fill your vision. It feels too good, even though you know it’s wrong. You feel yourself getting wetter and wetter at his skilled finger and his concentrated expression.

Peter is positive you’re enjoying this. He can’t resist you anymore when he has you spread open for him. Plus, he found nothing peculiar inside, you seemed healthy. He could stop now if he’d like, but the contraction of your pussy walls around his finger and the sweet whimpers you’re eliciting spur him to continue.

“How does this feel, Y/N?” Peter’s voice was gravelly and lustful; you were sure to catch on by now. His question was borderline professional, yet inappropriate. At this point, Peter couldn’t care less because your face said it all.

“Good, really good,” You admitted with fluttering eyes as your hands gripped the sides of your shirt. Your name out of his mouth made you melt into his touch as you instinctively grinded your hips into his hand.

“What about this?” His ring finger slides in effortlessly, and they both curl inside you. You gasp, eliciting another shaky moan. His digits were thick and just the right length to satisfy you without even needing his cock, even though you wanted it. “God, you’re so tight. Imagine what you’d feel like around my cock.” He grumbles.

You gasp at his sudden profound language, but the dirtiness only made you more aroused. Your brain imagined how his cock would look buried so deep inside of you that you’d feel him in your stomach. You imagine this pre-cum leaking from his tip as he pulls out of you just to slam back in. Your core tensed at the thought.

“I didn’t hear you, Y/N,” He grunts gravelly, slowing his movements. He slips his fingers out, removing the glove swiftly. You whine at the emptiness, answering him. He was so sweet, yet dirty, and you loved it.

“So good! It feels so good, please don’t stop,” You plead and he smirks in satisfaction as he continues. His thumb rolls over your puffy clit, making your hips press into his hand as he slips back in. Your thighs contracted as they begged to close, but the locked stirrups blocked you from doing so.

“Who’s making you feel this good?” His tone was smooth and clear, almost contradicting his sinful actions. His pace becomes brutal, ramming in and out of you with no mercy. The rough texture of his bare hand sends a shiver up your spine as your orgasm nears.

“You! You, Peter,” Your chest heaves as choked moans leave your lips. His digits rub your throbbing nerves as his fingers glide against your walls addictingly good. Your fingernails dig into the soft flesh of your trembling thighs. His lips raise in another smirk as his cheeks flush that familiar pink. “I’m close, Peter,” You whimper, causing him to hiss at the harsh pulsing of his shaft when his name falls delicately from your lips just how he imagined.

“I know, honey. Can feel you clenching around me,” He groans when you release another noise of pleasure. His eyes wander down to your aching cunt as his fingers become drenched in your juices. You’re squeezing him torturously, on the edge of your break.

“Are you gonna come? Gonna come for me?”

Without another moment, your orgasm ripples through your body with a blissful wail. Clenched muscles and screwed eyes don’t even express the full ecstasy you feel. White liquid saturates Peter’s bare fingers before he licks them clean. It wasn’t the most sanitary, but he didn’t give one fuck.

Your face screams fucked out; perspired skin, droopy eyes, and a weary smile. In his ideal situation, he would have devoured you until you couldn’t take it anymore. But that was for another time. If there ever was another time, which he hoped there would be.

Just maybe not in a hospital.

“Well, Y/N, it seems like you are very healthy,” Peter grins, taking the tissues to clean you thoroughly. You can feel the heat radiating from your cheeks at his joking comment.

“Thanks, doctor,” Your voice came out a bit squeaky while your heart continued to stammer in your chest.

“After that, I think you should call me Peter,” He chuckles, sliding away in his stool to discard the tissues. Heat burns your skin from his adorable laugh.

“Peter it is then,” He helps you down the stirrups and you begin to get dressed with a goofy smile curling on your face. Peter doesn’t fail to notice this as his thoughts begin to wander. He knows he just met you, but he wants to see where this goes. He is confident that you’re interested in him (at least enough for him to finger you), so maybe asking you out isn’t the crazy idea he’s ever had.

“Y/N?” Suddenly, he didn’t feel so confident.

“Yeah?” Your response was breathless.

“Would you, um,” Peter hesitated to find the words. He really was like a little kid talking to his crush for the first time. “like to go out sometime? Maybe?”

You admire his bashfulness. He anxiously rolls up his coat sleeves while his face displaces a rosy blush. His brown eyes twinkled with hope as he waited for a reply.

“I would like that, doctor,” You smile genuinely and sweetly, your joyful energy calming his pent-up nerves. “I mean Peter.” You giggle when he blushes.

“Okay, okay, this is great. Here’s my number,” Peter scribbles messily on a small sheet of note paper, handing it to you. It was adorable how nervous he was for being a well-respected doctor who waltzed in with a sweet kind of confidence. You were giddy as well, but you were way better at hiding it clearly. You snatch the sheet with your fingers, tucking it away in your palm.

“Do you do this with all your patients, Dr. Parker?” You tease with a quirked eyebrow and a pointed finger at his chest. Peter huffs out a chuckle while clicking his tongue.

“Only the most beautiful ones,” He gently lifts your finger, kissing it gently before striding out of the room. Peter doesn’t forget to leave an arrogant wink as the heavy, wooden door closes abruptly.

Maybe being a doctor does make him arrogant. Sometimes.

You stand frozen, starstruck. Your breathing was back to heaving again because he left you breathless. And speechless. You jokingly wondered for a minute if you would die from a heart attack, due to the rapid thumping of a stupid organ against your ribs. Curious, you open your palm and unfold the slip of paper he wrote hastingly. Glancing past the number, you notice the small words underneath.

Please, call me Peter.

—

yesss tell me what you think :)