Notes: Written for kink_bingo on Dreamwidth to fill the square Mechanical/Technological.

Peter presses Gwen against her bedroom wall, the posters crinkling when she shifts. His breath is hot against her throat, and she pulls her long strands of hair out of the way with one hand to make it easier for him.

"Mm," he agrees, and lays a soft kiss in the hollow of her throat.

She runs her other hand from his waist, up his chest, still covered in spandex, past his shoulder and up his arm. Her fingers scrape against the device on the wrist of his suit, but she continues upward, intertwining her fingers with his. He responds by pressing closer, his mouth traveling up the side of her jaw.

She almost feels trapped there, against the wall, and it gives her a small thrill of danger. He's so fast, so strong, that if she wanted to escape, she couldn't. She struggles in his arms then, whining a soft complaint.

He steps back immediately, a look of worry on his face. "Did I hurt you?" His eyes flick to her wrist, still upraised against the wall.

She lowers her eyes, embarrassed. "No, I was just... thinking what it must be like to be one of the criminals you catch." Her eyes glance at his web shooters. "Unable to move."

He takes another step back, rubbing a hand through his messy shock of hair. "Oh god, I'm sorry, Gwen." He shifts back and forth. "I-I was so happy to see you after patrol that I didn't even think about that, I'm sorry..." He stumbles back and sits on a chair a few feet away.


He lifts his chin, shooting her a mortified look.

"I didn't say..." She licks her lips nervously. "... that I didn't like it."

His face transforms from apology to confusion. "You...?"

"The thought was kind of... thrilling. Let's say that I'm a... purse snatcher or something," she continues, thinking aloud, pacing away from him. She grabs her purse from the side table and clutches it to her chest. "You see me running away from the scene of the crime."

A smile is beginning on his lips. "You're serious about this." It's halfway between a question and disbelief.

She shrugs. "Just go with it." She pivots on one heel. "I dash around the corner into an alley. I'm trapped." She puts up her fists. "Spider-Man!" she says, overdramatically. "You'll never take me alive!"

Peter raises one heavy eyebrow.

Gwen gestures impatiently. "I have a-a secret weapon." Gwen digs in her purse and finds a small bottle of hair spray. Aiming it at him with a flourish, she cries, "Pest Control!"

"What is that?" he taunts, getting into the role. "Bug spray? Geez..." He saunters closer, and she marvels at the transformation in his demeanor. "You guys always get this wrong. I'm an arachnid, not an insect."

She holds the can up higher. "I'm warning you!"

He smirks. "Please." Raising his wrists, he pretends to spray her with webbing. "Thwip! Thwip! You're trapped!"

Gwen does not act as if she were trapped at all. Instead, she freezes in place, in her best villain pose.

Peter tilts his head. "I webbed you."

Gwen glances at her hands. "I don't see any webbing."

"I said, 'Thwip, thwip.' Um, that's the sound."

Breaking character for a moment, she murmurs out of the side of her mouth, "Do it for real, you know, like I'm an actual thief."

"Uh, um..." He's clearly not sure she's serious.

"I'm serious." He still looks worried. She drops her pose and becomes Gwen again. "I really want you to, see what it's like." Then she lifts the bottle and snarls, "I'll exterminate you, Spider-Man!"

His expression is somewhere between a smile and a puzzled frown. "Okay."

Then with blinding speed she finds herself propelled backward into the wall, the spray bottle flying. One wrist, then the other, hits the wall, covered in webbing. The bottle rolls to a stop at Peter's boots.


He grimaces. "Sorry?"

She tries to move her wrists. They are completely immobile, no matter how she struggles. The thrill from before doubles, centered low.

She lets out a breath. "That is... amazing."

He seems relieved that she isn't hurt. "They do say that about me," he replies with a smirk.

"How do you remove it?" Her inner scientist takes over. "No, wait. How did you make it?"

"I adapted it from an Oscorp formula. I can show you on my computer, later. The shooters are all mine, though." He walks over to start to free her. "I can either tear it off, or it'll dissolve on its own after a while."

As he gets close, she whispers, "Leave it on. For now."

That eyebrow goes up again, checking to see if she's joking.

She nods her consent. "Let's continue where we left off - before all of this."

He leans down gently to kiss her, but she responds with ferocity. She takes his lower lip between her teeth and sucks it, drawing a moan from him. His tongue slides in, moving across hers, and it's her turn to moan. She wants more, she wants to put her hands all over him, and she can't. Somehow that makes the fire in her rise even higher.

He begins to trail kisses down her jaw. "Peter..."

He lifts his head to look at her, lips moist and red.

"Could you...?" She drops her eyes to the buttons of her blouse. Her heart suddenly races as he follows her eyes. Can he hear that?

Whether he can or not, his eyes darken and he gives her the tiniest nod. They've never done anything more than make out, hands deliberately above the clothes. He's been too polite, she's been too timid. But something about this situation is heating her blood, making her feel a little reckless, a little less like daddy's compliant angel. And anything that will let her step down from the pedestal she suspects Peter has placed her on is a good thing.

She sighs as he uses his gloved hands to work at the buttons. They stick a little before coming free, and he takes a step back to remove them. "Can you leave them on?" she asks.

He doesn't question her this time, just goes back to working his way to the bottom button. But when he sees the front clasp of her bra, he hesitates.

She bites her lip and nods. "That, too."

To her surprise, he takes his time with it, sliding a finger along the swell of one breast, and then the other, tracing the seams and the clasp almost reverently. Gwen closes her eyes at the sensation. She hopes he won't lose his nerve.

Then he pops the clasp in one swift move, freeing her breasts from confinement. She tilts her head back and sighs. He gently shifts the lacy cup to the side, and fits his hand around one breast. He pauses there, long enough for Gwen to open her eyes.

The look of wonder in his face would be almost funny, considering the amazing things he's seen these last few months, were it not for the fact that she's feeling something similar. But she wants his mouth on her, and now. She arches into his hand, hoping he will get the hint.

He obliges, and she shudders as his lips close around her nipple. He sucks and laves it with his tongue, and sensation flows directly to her groin. She lets out a throaty moan. Thank god her mother took the boys out somewhere tonight.

He moves to the other breast, growing more confident at her vocal encouragement. His fingers work one breast while his mouth takes care of the other. The dual sensation of the textured gloves and his wet tongue is escalating her arousal so fast that she growls, "Peter...!"

He stops abruptly, misunderstanding the tone of her voice. "You want to stop?"

She smiles at him. "The opposite. But..." She's ready to use her hands now, on him. "Can you take off the webbing?"

He nods, and with a couple of swift tugs her hands are free. She rubs at her wrists for a moment, then places her palms flat on his chest. "My turn."

He grins. "Okay." He steps back to pull the top half of his uniform over his head. She can still see the scars from his battle with the Lizard, though they've healed faster than any normal human's wounds would. He lifts his hands, still gloved. "On or off?"

"On," she begins, but then changes her mind. "No. Off." She holds out her hand to take them, and he places them in her palm. Slyly, she asks, "Do you think they would fit me?"

"What?" He looks a little shocked.

She works her smaller hand into one of them and holds it up for him to see. The red fabric conforms to her fingers, looking oddly natural. Then she places her gloved hands on his chest and pushes him onto her bed. "I did say it was my turn."