You stood a few feet away from him, and he couldn’t even bother trying to hide the way he was ogling you.
The way your nipples were poking through your shirt had his fingers twitching to pinch them.
Fuck.
He took a deep breathe, trying to calm himself. Balling his fists up at his sides.
It was cold outside the cabin the two of you were residing in for the mission you’d just completed, and apparently inside too.
“Peter, dinners almost ready” you smile sweetly at him and he bites the inside of his cheek at the way blood is already rushing to his cock.
But how could he help it? It was just so domestic, you cooking for him. You didn’t have to, you did it because you wanted to. Because you cared about him, but as a friend. Peter has to remind himself. And friends don’t cross certain boundaries.
But with the way your hair fell around your face as you fixed him a plate had him wanting to web swing right over all those god forsaken boundaries.
“I hope you like it, I’ve only made this dish a few times…” you chirp hopefully and Peter’s stomach churns with affection. You were so cute.
“I’m sure I’m gonna love it Y/N, you’re too good to me” Peter thanks you as you both sit down to eat. You blush at his kind words, you were going to make dinner for yourself. Of course you’d make some for him as well, he was one of your closest friends and favorite team mate.
“I’ll cook for you anytime Pete” you grin, taking your first bite and he follows suit. He doesn’t know what was better, how amazing the food tasted or the sound of you promising to cook for him whenever he wanted.
He groans as his mouth explodes with a mixture of delicious flavors. You find yourself blushing again at the sound of it, rumbling low in his chest.
His brown hair sitting in perfect loose curls on his head. Peter had always been attractive, but now he’s grown up. Broader shoulders, and a more muscular frame made for a way more confident man, assertive almost.
Peter took note of your red cheeks, a small smirk playing on his lips.
“Mmmph, this is amazing Y/N” he compliments you. And he wasn’t lying, you were an amazing cook.
“I’m glad you like it…” you hum. The way you were beaming at him made a feeling of guilt wash over him once again for what he was about to do.
You and Peter had done dozens of missions together, you had a mutual trust. Peter was the genius, you let him handle certain things and you others. Of course you were smart, and read the mission reports etc…but sometimes on a quick retrieval trip like the one you were on now; you didn’t always bother with all the details.
On this trip Peter had paid attention to all the details, like the fact that one of the things you had retrieved was an aphrodisiac from Asgard.
“Let me grab us some drinks” Peter offers, standing before you could even respond. He sighs, pouring you both glasses of wine and the aphrodisiac into yours.
Peter knows he’s betraying your trust by doing this. But he needs you. Every part of him yearns for you. As he sets the glasses down on the table, he prays one day you can forgive him.
“Mmm, is it a bit chilly in here or just me?” You question, taking a sip of your wine. Peter nods in agreement, heart hammering in his chest as he watches you drink.
“Yeah, it is kind of cold” he adds, playing it off and keeping his demeanor calm and collected. This is what he had to do to have you.
You drink and joke, no longer feeling the cold from outside like you did before. Actually; you were getting pretty warm.
Your eyes fall shut as a surge of heat rushes through you, quickly passing. You try to brush it off, but soon your find yourself gripping the table when something stirs deep in your belly. You stifle a moan, curling over to conceal yourself as your face contorts at the random feelings of pleasure.
“Y/N, are you okay?” Peter feigns innocence to your condition, knowing very well what was happening to you. Of course he did his research. He’d never want to hurt you. You’d just finally have that extra push into his arms that he needed.
“I’m fine“ you try to lie, lifting your head up only to be cut off by another burst of pleasure that had your jaw dropping in a gasp.
“Peter..” you whimper, eyes locking with his and he’s next to you in seconds.
“Let’s get you in bed” he suggests, and you agree. You strip down to your tank top and underwear, body still growing hotter and hotter. You couldn’t bother to feel ashamed right now.
Of course you’d been horny but you’d never felt like this before. Your core was practically clenching around nothing at this point and you were counting down the seconds until Peter left so you could shove your hand into your panties and make yourself cum. But Peter had other plans.
He takes off his own shirt, climbing into the bed next to you and pulling you too him. Your body screams in welcome at the contact from a man as handsome as him. But he was a friend; and more importantly your teammate. Sleeping with him was off limits, no matter how wet your pussy was. Or how good he felt pressed against you.
“Peter I could be contagious! What are you doing?” You try your best to scare him off, brain only working at partial capacity at this point. It was taking actual effort to keep yourself from rubbing against him.
“I’m taking care of you” he coos, hand coming up to rest on your side.
“I’m not that kind of sick, you can go I promise” you respond with words, but your body leans into his touch.
“What kind of sick are you then Y/N” he asks, hand sliding up until it sits right under your curve of your breast.
You’re sure he doesn’t realize, certain his hands have the intentions of simply making you feel better. But still your thighs grow sticky with wetness from the feel of them.
“Let me help you Y/N” he whispers, voice laced with something dangerous.
His hand goes up even further until his groping your breast and you hum at how nice his big hand feels.
“Fuck, you’re perfect” he groans, flicking your nipple through your shirt and your hips jerk at the how good it feels. Peter smirks, doing it again and you can’t help squeak.
“Peter, stop. We can’t!” You feel yourself have a moment of clarity, this was too much.
“What’s wrong? It’s supposed to feel good if someone plays with your nipples” he answers, leaning in to kiss your neck and both hands now tweaking your nipples.
Your hands go to his shoulders to push him off, but before you can his actions have you succumbing to power of the aphrodisiac again.
“Peter please…” you find yourself begging and Peter bites down on your neck before sucking a bruise into it.
“Please what, baby?” He asks, kissing down the column of your throat and making quick work of your shirt so he can bury his face in your chest.
“More” is all you can choke out as his mouth wraps around your nipple.
Your panties are next to go, his hands eager to get rid of them. He’d dreamed of this.
He runs a finger down your folds, letting his digit get coated by your wetness. He switches nipples as he pushes his first finger into you.
“Oh fuckkk” you drawl, hips bucking at the welcomed intrusion. He chuckles adding another finger, and he grunts at how tight you are.
“So fucking right; even just around my fingers” he breathes finally coming up from your tits to kiss your mouth. His lips were soft but you could feel the strength behind them. He lead and you followed.
“…be even tighter around your cock” you pull away from the kiss breathlessly and Peter takes out his fingers to gently smack your pussy.
“I can only imagine” he quips and you reach your hands up tangle in his thick hair,
“Don’t imagine it, fuck me” you tilt your face up to kiss him again. It’s all tongue and teeth as Peter kicks down his pants and boxers.
“Anything you want baby”
And then he’s pushing his hard cock into you. Your back arches, and Peters arms reach under you to pull you as close to him as possible.
He thrusts sharply, dick reaching the deepest parts of you. Your nipples rub against his bare chest, the sound of skin slapping skin echos through the room.
You can barely catch your breath at how good everything feels, and your toes curl as you feel your orgasm approaching.
“Cum for me Y/N” he hums, pressing his lips yours and you struggle to kiss him back as your high washes over you.
Your hips jerk in pleasure, walls contracting around him and bringing him to his own peak. He fills you up, grunting you name as he spills inside of you.
Peter breathes heavily, burying his face in your neck as you both come down.
So much for boundaries.
___________________________
this is the most different thing I’ve ever written, let me know if y’all want more like this just tryna to ease my way into some darker stuff!
Trying to keep your relationship with your professor was easy enough, until you learned that someone had found out about it.
words:7,424
tags: manipulative!peter, explicit noncon/dubcon elements, degredation, implied overstimulation, blackmailing, kidnapping, college student and professor relationship,
a/n:whew this had a lot of words compared to what i usually write. plus, since im bad at titles, i’ll just use my fav song titles lmao. (ps. erik lehnsherr aka magneto is here and im just glad i could put him in my little fictional world bc im d biggest slut for him)
A complete lie, you just did not want to deal with college fuck boys.
The man in front of the class was practically pouring his heart out into the lecture. The chalkboard was filled with white letterings from left to right, not knowing where to start as you take down notes.
“It is important to keep in mind that bimolecular structure and function are dictated by the properties of the medium in which they are dissolved,” your professor explains while continually pacing from one end to the other among the students seated at the first row.
You decided to seat around the middle to the last row, knowing it was the least obvious way for other students in the class to notice how much you fawn over your Organic Chemistry professor rather than the subject itself.
Honestly you could listen to him talk for hours. All those information he had been discussing would not actually process through your thoughts. You knew that better than anyone.
But who honestly would invalidate your reason? Everyone can probably relate to hating Chemistry, no matter what subcategory it is.
Considering that this was probably one of the most difficult courses you had in your program. You were just thankful and lucky enough you landed on one of the hottest professors amongst the campus.
“Hey what did Professor Lehnsherr say about the problems during synthesis of proteins?” Peter asks.
In spite of being fortunate about everything else about this subject, you were not quite happy about Peter Parker following you around like a lost puppy. Especially during the classes you both have alike.
The boy constantly asks so much questions as if you were the teacher already. In addition, he seemed smart enough to figure things out yet somehow he keeps on bugging you for reassurance.
You did not want to be rude. He has not done anything to completely deserve your rage, however he was definitely getting on your nerves.
Honestly you would not want to be infuriated over his consistent queries, but you were just as distracted as he was, maybe even more. With this, you were looking dumber to him each day.
To anyones pride, it was probably a kick in the stomach. You knew you were not the brightest in this class, but it was best to leave the information to yourself. No need for anyone to point out how mindless you were.
And you really were not. You had other Science subjects you totally excel at. Sadly, Chemistry was just not one of them.
“Well, uh, I don’t think I got that part either.” You look aside where he was seated and awkwardly smiled at him before mentioning an apology, “Sorry, Peter.”
In return, Peter smiled at you and dismissed the question. You were not so sure whether to forget about it or take even the least bit of offense. You felt a little mocked by how easily he did it and innocently he smiled, but maybe you were just overthinking this through.
“It’s fine,” he tells. “I just didn’t get the third bullet, but I’ll try to review it in the textbook when I get home.”
“Oh okay, sure.”
“Speaking about reviewing,” Again, Peter tries to start another discourse.
“I was wondering if you got reviewers for the upcoming text for next week? We all know how difficult Professor Lehnsherr’s exams can get, right?” He lets out a forced chuckle, assuming it could lighten the mood.
As much as he tried to make small talks with you, almost everyday, today you really feel like you did not want to return the favor. Especially after having to bring up the test next week.
“I don’t really make reviewers, I usually just scan the books I have at home.”
Lies. You probably have a box full of index cards and sticky notes in your room.
You tried to use every studying tips every corner of the Internet could give. All those study-life hacks that really did not help much but pile up to your disorganized state of mind.
You fucking tried to study Chemistry. You really did.
“What, you don’t?!” He suddenly exclaims, not realizing the loudness of his voice as it almost caught the attention from people at front. “You seem to be busy all the time though. It’s like I always catch your writing or reading something in class.”
Maybe your mood was just off but it definitely seemed weird for him to say that. Though, you did not want to make something from what he said. It was not worth your time.
“I guess people are not always what they seem to be, yeah?”
Again, Peter gives out that soft chuckle and smile, “Then I guess so. You do make a point.”
He does not argue with you any further.
“Can I at least borrow your Physics book? I only bought Chemistry and Biotech for the semester. Didn’t know they would actually utilize it for once,” he scoffs.
At first you hesitated. You were reviewing for it too, but you already felt bad for being no help whenever he asks a question and often times disregarding him when your mood if off. Plus, you did just make it look like you were not much of a study-freak.
“Okay.”
He instinctively fist pumps the air and looks at you with a wide, grateful grin. “Thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver, Y/N.”
“Don’t mention it.” You grab the book he needs from your bag and hands it to him. He accepts it and places it inside his while also clearing the rest of his things.
Looking at his digital wristwatch wherein he raised his index finger up as if he figured something out of it, he says, “He’s going to dismiss the class in a few minutes. We should get ready for Cell Biology next period.
Oh how you hated it. Were you jumping to conclusions? Or was this boy really trying to be too close with you? Or was he just being nice and informing you to prepare ahead?
God, you did not give Peter Parker the right to cloud up your thoughts like this.
“Thanks,” you say, “but I need to talk to Professor Lehnsherr after class. Have to, uh, consult him about my concept paper that he made us submit last week.”
As he tidies his notebooks up and carelessly shoves it inside his backpack, he immediately looks back at you with a confused expression, “Oh, I can always wait for you–”
“It’s fine, Peter. Thank you though.” Two of your hands were instinctively waving in front of you, a meek gesture for him to stop coddling you or whatever move he had been trying to make at you.
“Are you sure? I–”
And if you were ought to be saved further from lashing out over Peter’s incessant attempts, you finally heard the words any student was longing to hear. “Class dismissed. I’ll see you all on Monday.”
“Eri–err, Professor Lensherr just dismissed the class. Better catch up to him before he heads out,” you hurriedly said. And with a loud slam from your notebook, you quickly shut him out. In addition, you practically shoved every thing in front of you into your bag without sparing a second glance.
One strap of your back was slung over your shoulder as you hurriedly flew down the aisle. Professor Lehnsherr was midway into packing his things before you interrupted and approached him.
“Professor,” you call out. “I have a question. About the paper I handed in last week.”
“Uhuh.” He faintly furrows his eyebrows, trying to hide his already obvious bewilderment. “I forgot which assignment was that, Ms. Y/L/N.”
There were students still exiting in class. So you tried your best to make your conversation with him less suspicious. He was most likely doing the same.
“It was about the Chemistry-proposal thing.” You snapped your fingers a few times as you gathered your train of thought, but realizing it was not going effectively. “Well I just wanted to confirm it since, you know, I was hoping for any feedback from you throughout this week.”
“I’m not sure if I have read it. I’ve certainly been busy this week,” he clarifies. “Nonetheless, we can talk about it later. Thank you for bringing it up. I’ll make sure to follow it up in my schedule, Ms. Y/N.”
Both of you made your way out the door once there were only a minuscule amount of students left in class. You probably had been looking at your professor with gushing stares, but you doubt the other people in the room could notice it. They were farther away from where both of you stood, much less would they be able to hear what the two of your were talking about.
“Oh thank you so much, sir!” You almost cried out and jumped in joy while reaching through the threshold. Moreover, you composed yourself before mumbling out, “I’ll see you later, Eric.”
In which you were certain no one would have heard it besides him.
.・゜-: ✧ :- -: ✧ :-゜・．
“I’m sure you’ll get a good grade in the exams, Y/N,” Eric leans back to his seat with a humble smile upon his face.
“Really? I doubt so, there’s a kid in your class that keeps bugging me out to a study date, or whatever you call it,” you sneer. You lick your lips as you finish taking a sip around the wine glass, setting it down and looking back at the man you were having dinner with. “It’s getting very annoying though, he surely knows how to get on my nerves.”
“I’m sure he’s just trying to flirt with you, like any other college boys do.” He optimistically and maturely lays out the options. “It’s pretty normal for anyone to chase someone they are fond of, especially for young adults like you.”
It was a pretty obvious sign that he was trying to let his message reach you.
“Well, I apologize for my standards of men,” you say. “I just want to skip the whole heartbreak in college and character development. All that stuff you usually see in a typical teen romance movie.”
You sigh, looking down and saying, “I already found a man for me. Why would I stoop down for some guy who’s most likely wanting something from me, and dumping me once he got what he wanted.”
“Y/N, I don’t blame you for liking men that’s ten years older than you,” Eric assures. “But I want you to realize that you still have a lot to look forward after graduating
“And I look forward for you too!” You tried to not raise your voice, though having dinner in his house wouldn’t really catch anyones attention. “I can’t wait to finally graduate from second semester and be able to spend more time, publicly, with you.”
“Yes, I understand, honey.” He places his hand over yours as he tries to calm you down. “Like I said, I just want you to make sure that you’ve clearly thought this through.”
Eric adds, “There’s plenty of men out there. I don’t want to take away your opportunity of experiencing something new at such a young age.”
“I’m turning twenty-four! I promise you I’m thinking everything through.” Your voice was much weaker than a few seconds ago. The evident tone of strength fades even with one glance from the man in front of you. You felt yourself shrink in your seat. But you were sure he does not intend to frighten you into compliance.
“Sorry,” you pout. “Didn’t mean to raise my voice.”
“I understand, and I won’t pressure you any more tonight, okay?” He tries to uplift your mood, detecting quickly the shift of the room’s atmosphere. “You deserve a good dinner tonight, like I promised, sweetie.”
His smile made you calmer. It was then that you realized why you were attracted to a man like him even if he was still your teacher.
The way he handles you in any given situation so sensibly. Though it may feels intimidating at first, he consequently tries to override the tone of the conversation which cheers you up.
With one hand, he hold yours and gently draws it towards him at the same moment he leans his head down. Eric presses a kiss against the back of your hand and you butterflies immediately fill inside your stomach. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Every doubt you had entirely disappeared now. If there were hints of you hesitating to continue seeing Eric, they were certainly long gone now.
“Let me drive you home after dinner,” he offers, like the gentleman he is.
Eric always does make sure you get home safe. However, you both agreed that he drops you off at least a block away from your house. Just in case people around your neighborhood might catch you, or worse your parents.
It was not like you were ashamed of your relationship with Eric. Cautious was the term.
You were only a few months in seeing him. Fair enough, he was your second semester professor and the both of you met before that period.
You were not only risking the wrath of your parents once they hear you’re dating an older man, let alone your Chemistry teacher. But you were also putting him at risk if ever his faculty finds out.
Eventually, the two of you pack up and end your conversation. Other than talking about college, the two of you also talk more about yourselves which has progressed you into learning more about each other’s personalities and likes.
He helps you out of his house and into the passenger seat of his car. It had been more than thrice wherein he drove you home, and the familiar scent of leather and the typical Glad air fresheners has clung onto your nose. You strap on your seatbelt on just as he was getting inside the driver’s side.
The ride was not entirely dead silent. Eric made a few more small talks before finally turning a right which was where he usually drops you off. It amazes you how instantly he remembered the way to your home, as you instructed him the first time.
“Thank you for tonight, like always, Eric.”
As always, you made your way out of his car prior to giving him a kiss. You only had to walk straight ahead, glancing at your home which had one dim light illuminating through one window.
Upon entering the house, you figured your parents were already asleep and a hint of the living room lamp was present. Taking the benefit of not having to be interrogated by anyone, you rushed upstairs to your bedroom, turned on the lights, and immediately closed the door behind you with a sigh of relief. A smile was also visible after recalling your night with Eric.
As you made your way towards your bed, a piece of paper lays obvious in the middle of it. Your sheets were flattened and tidied, so you could obviously detect when something is placed on top of it. You have no memory of leaving it early in the morning before you left too.
When picking the paper up, you realized it was a piece of polaroid film. Its back was facing you, having no idea what to expect at the front.
At that point, the smile from your face turned into horror and all the color in you basically drained away.
The picture displayed you and Eric at one dinner night out from a few days ago, you still remember. It could have been anything but malicious, but the way his hand was intertwined with yours as both of you laugh away without worries. It was clear as day, the light shining perfectly at the both of you. Anyone can conclude what was happening in the picture.
You did not know this day would come. The picture was taken from Eric’s home to prevent such things like this from happening. So it puzzled you just as much at it terrified you.
This was definitely someone who had been stalking either one of you. It was not a mere instance like paparazzis who catch celebrities dating on the streets of New York.
Someone definitely have been observing the two of you.
.・゜-: ✧ :- -: ✧ :-゜・．
Days have passed, a week almost. Examinations are scheduled for tomorrow.
And you prayed that the picture you received would be the only thing terrorizing your dreams. But you were completely wrong.
From thereon, you started to receive more pictures, specifically one every morning and night, from your past hangouts with Eric. It were simple shots but had the power to completely jeopardize either one of you, mostly him at stake though.
It was obvious that the person behind this was definitely observing the two of you for a while. Probably even during the most earliest weeks when your relationship with him started.
Though it may seem unfair, you did not mention anything about it to Eric. It was enough the he was keeping with you, his job, and himself private – which clearly was not working out so well. You felt like it was your responsibility to handle this situation. You were so sure you did not try to publicize anything and kept it on the low.
Nevertheless, it was out there. Eric had not mentioned anything so you assumed he did not receive a picture like you did.
Currently, you were seated at the farthest row at the back of the room, somewhat near the corner. Physics was your last subject and you could not wait but finally leave.
In addition, you texted Eric that you would not be seeing him until after the exams. It was an easy excuse not to see him, saying that you wanted to focus on studying for it; however, you knew that you would just be busy thinking about the creepy stalker gallery you have been receiving.
“Hey.” Unsurprisingly, a familiar voice whispers next to you which disrupts your heavy train of thoughts. “You finished studying for tomorrow? I’m about to end my review with Chemistry later.”
“Cool.” Probably the one of the most basic replies in the universe. “I haven’t finished studying, I’m kind of dealing with a lot of things recently.”
You made sure to generalize your answer, but enough for him to sympathize and at least give you some space.
“Oh, sorry to hear about that.” Peter frowns. He takes his seat a few desks away from your left, leaving you to continue thinking. You were thankful for his gesture too.
Surprisingly enough the boy barely bothered you for the entire lecture. You were still engrossed on finding out whoever was stalking you, even so dating back to boys you evidently rejected during the first semester – who badmouthed you immediately afterwards. There were not a lot of names, so it was easy to remember who was who.
You traced back to each boy and remembered what they said after you told them you were not ready to enter a relationship – a complete lie, you just did not want to deal with college fuck boys.
Just as you expected from any of them, rumors have spread out about you which was mostly shaming you physically or mentally. Some were milder insults than the other yet at the end of the day you did not care.
“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself. “Who was that boy at Liz’s party.”
Your eyes were sealed shut, recalling a list of names while using your thumb and middle finger to massage your temples. It was getting frustrating and mentally exhausting.
After some time, you had so much word filling in and our of your brain that you were not aware that your own name was being called. Your heart practically skipped a beat after hearing it the first time, assuming that you were being called to recite an answer. But you became content after seeing that it was just Peter, who started tapping your arm to get your attention.
“Huh?” You lightly shake your head before turning your head aside.
“Oh, class was dismissed a few minutes earlier than usual–”
“Don’t forget to answer the assignment regarding thermodynamic concepts found it the book. You’ll hand it in immediately on Wednesday.” The professor addresses the class as they were already carrying their bags and themselves out the room.
You start placing your stationeries inside yours, packing your other things up until it was only a pair of earphones and your phone left in front. Peter stood near the aisle while looking at you just as you were zipping your bag shut.
“Oh shoot, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he states out of nowhere causing you to furrow your eyebrows at him. “I forgot I still haven’t returned your Physics book I borrowed last week.”
Nodding your head and standing up, you shrug it off. “It’s fine. You can return it tomorrow.”
“Sure, but how will you do your Physics assignment?”
Oh yeah. Your professor literally reminded the class a few seconds ago.
“I think I might be able to do it overnight. How many pages is the task?”
“Eight, or nine I think.” He frowns looking very guilty at you.
“Shit,” you swore. That was a lot of pages than the usual assignments given.
“Yeah, professor said it could help add points if you somehow get a bad grade at the tests.”
“Never mind,” you tried to set his mistake aside. “I’ll try to do it within overnight tomorrow. I can ask for help from my friend tomorrow morning and–”
“Wait! I realized you can stop by my apartment to get it.”
“Oh–er, Peter, I don’t think I have time to–
“It’s just nearby the campus, I promise,” he assures and adds, “it wouldn’t be a hassle, it’s probably on your way home anyway so it won’t make a difference.”
“Uhm.” You were doubtful of him.
However, you did realize that you did not have anything to do after class. You were keeping distance with Eric for the meantime which meant that your schedule was mostly vacant after this.
“Please,” he begs, “I feel so bad for keeping it the whole week. I swear it’s like a few blocks from here.”
“Would it take more than twenty minutes?” You purse your lips, convincing yourself that you would rather force yourself to study at home than spend it at someone’s apartment.
“I only take around ten minutes to walk so,” he answers. “Unless you’re a slow walker, of course.” The tone of his voice seeming to be joking.
Again, he pleads. This kid will not fucking budge.
“Fine,” you blurt out. Though, you realized your sudden-almost lash out moment at the boy that you made sure to reiterate it but slower, “I mean, sure. I can stop by your apartment to pick up my book.”
An awaited smile and sense of agreement washes over you.
Peter then leads the way as you walked behind him, maintaining a short distance so people would not throw out any suspicious looks. Like in every college, everyone knows just how fast gossips formulate and rumors spread.
If you think about it though, it might avert anyone’s suspicion – mainly pertaining to your creepy stalker – with you and your Professor. But you were not prepared for that yet, maybe some time when you can finally think about its consequences through.
True to his word, as the both of you exited the campus, it took a short time before the boy in front of you told that you were about to enter through the entrance to the building of his apartment. You were not so sure if it was really a momentary walk or because you were so focused on thinking and keeping a distance.
At some points he did often look back in case you got lost from following him. Plus, like always, he asked you simple questions either about your day or your subjects to make small talk. In which case, you were barely answering him but definitely progressed compared to when he attempted for previous times during class.
In addition, as the two of you walked down the block, the number of faces you could only assume was in college decreased. Meaning that the glares at you eased up.
“Well, here’s my location.” A loud huff follows as he uses a key to unlock the door for the entrance to the building, “It wasn’t that far, was it?”
“Yeah, I guess it wasn’t that far.” You agree as he holds the door for you and then walks right after you.
As Peter leads you upstairs onto around the fourth level, he proceeds to walk along the corridors. The array of same beige colored doors with small golden indents of unit numbers paraded along it too. Eventually he stops and inserts a key into the lock, twisting it until hearing the unlocking sound.
For a moment you hesitated to follow him. You just wanted your book and you were sure he can give it to you on a shorter span than your walk from campus to here. Was it that troublesome?
Entering his complex, you discovered how minimalistic it looked. To be fair it seemed quite small, the living room instantly greeting you through the entrance and a kitchenette at the side. But since his things were tidied up, it looked roomy.
You instinctively close the door behind you, slightly aware that it did not create a locking sound. Following Peter, you took a few more steps until you stood still at the passageway between his living room and entryway.
“Do you want a drink?” Peter asks.
“No thank you.” You were still trying to subtle. “I just want my Physics book, Peter. Please?”
He looked at you and paused for a split second. You could feel the frown behind the expressionless look. “Yeah. Okay. Sure,” he nods for a few times before turning around and proceeding to a seemingly narrow hallway. “I’ll get it in my room. Be back in a second.”
Your feet faintly paced back and forth, still where you stood a few meters between the entrance and living room. After a few more minutes, Peter emerges carrying the familiar book with one hand.
He approaches you within a few stops but stops in his tracks, leaving a distance from you. “Well uh,” he starts as his chin was tucked.
“I just want to tell you something before I hand you back your book.” He looks up at you with really pleading eyes. During other instances in university, you were definitely familiar with that look. However, this one probably ranked as one of the most downhearted ones.
You did not want to feel regretful for him. Though it definitely feels like you just kicked a puppy.
“Was is it?”
“I love you,” he blurts out as his face goes back from hiding and looking down.
It seemed awkward. You were somewhat expecting it, but you were also hoping that this day would not come – or not at least until you graduate and leave the university.
“Oh.” You honestly did not want to react.
Were you going to say sorry? How about thank you? Would it be better if you said you did not like him back? Or will the best response be that you are already taken?
“Peter, I–”
“Are you really dating Eric?” He shots up with eyes appearing almost teary.
What. The. Fuck.
“No,” you mutter. It was not much of an answer to his question. It was more on being quite horrified as your mind started jumping to conclusions.
The amount of things running around your mind right now was immeasurable.
Firstly, anyone could make two and two out of what he said, especially knowing that no one knows it even so around your circle of friends.
Secondly, you should have thought better. Your doubts with Peter should have been grater and you totally underestimated him. However, some part of you prayed that he was just an annoyingly awkward nerd who follows his friends regarding flirting tips.
Lastly, you turned around and ran.
You probably got your way with opening the door and taking two steps out. It was not long before you felt arms wrap around your waist and either side of your arms. You were then lifted and pulled behind while you tried to kick at the air as an escape. Did not work though.
Peter was surprisingly stronger than you thought. He already seemed fairly muscular at class, hiding behind those long sleeved sweaters and flannels.
Eventually the last thing you remember was the image of the door of his apartment open while you get sucked into the room further. Everything went black afterwards.
.・゜-: ✧ :- -: ✧ :-゜・．
When you felt that you were slowly restoring to consciousness, you were aware of the pounding at the back of your head and your arms.
You tried to move your hands, wanting to press against the parts of your body that were aching. But you felt incapacitated as your wriggled your wrists around and felt an unfamiliar sticky fluid enveloping around them.
“Glad you’re awake,” a voice says. “Does your head hurt?”
You tried to open your eyes, the dark lighting of the room not cooperating with your vision. A light from the window and a lamp were the only things that helped you form something out of the void.
From there you saw Peter Parker sitting closely beside you at the edge of the bed.
Hell please let this be a nightmare.
“What–” You groan, “What do you want from me.”
Your mind was building up your anger yet your body says otherwise. You felt exhausted and heavy.
Peter shushed you in a caring manner, “We’ll talk when you feel better. I’ll let you get more rest okay, sweetie?”
“Uhh.”
That was what you could remember the most. If you have awoken for other times in between your sleep, then you surely did not have an idea of it.
When you finally woke up, the level of your grogginess felt little to none already. You looked around and saw that the room was still dark and seemingly still nighttime.
As your head was twisting from side to side, you saw Peter appear from the doorway carrying a translucent cup filled with water in one hand. “Hey, you’re finally awake.”
Instead of replying to him, your wrists writhe beneath the fluid that you are still not familiar of. You could not really look up to get a good view of what it was, but it was wet, sticky, and felt like super glue.
On the other hand, both your legs, ankles, and feet were free. The back of your thighs bounced against the bed as you struggled, but it would not do much since your arms were practically stuck.
“Fuck,” you grumble.
“That won’t help. You’re pretty much stuck there,” he says, Then he takes a seat at the edge of the bed, alike where you remembered him positioned from earlier, “Might as well talk to me until I let you go.”
“Okay then, when will you let me go?” Your voice was calm hoping you could talk your way out of this mess.
“If you behave for me like a good girl, okay?”
Shivers went up your spine as you cringed at his statement.
Immediately, your mood shifts from calm to furious after hearing his disturbing bargain. Then purposely rolling your eyes for him to see. “How the hell will I behave if you’re a creepy stalker! You disgust me!”
Peter hums, displaying a look wherein he seems like he was thinking. You were not sure if it was sarcastic or not, either way it annoyed the hell out of you. “Creepy stalker sounds overstated, it was more on being curious.”
You scoff as well as exclaim, “You sent me photographs of me and Eric at his house! Fucking hell, Peter.”
“Oh yeah that part.” He slyly pouts his lips to the side as he comes to realize what he had done, “I guess it was a bit creepy–”
“What do you mean a bit? That was invasion of privacy!”
Despite being trapped, both your hands balled into a fist, feeling very furious at his dense answers. “I was living my own life! I kept my relationships to myself,” you cry out.
“Yes, but you weren’t completely living your life,” he whispers while gently combing his hair through the front of your hair. “You deserve much more than someone who couldn’t proudly tell that you’re his girl. Is he even a man? Do you really enjoy that kind of life, sweetie?”
“We were happy,” you weep. The evident crack on your voice was a signal that you were about to cry though you were not sure if it was because you were held hostage or because you were worried for Eric.
No one would understand your situation with him right now. Especially Peter.
“Trust me you weren’t,” he scoffs. “You deserve so much more, and I can give you that.”
“I’d rather be alone forever than be with you, asshole!” Your voice was inconsistent, clearly affected by how fast Peter’s mood also shifts quickly.
You also figured you were not looking entirely fresh while crumbling beneath him. Drops of tears and sweat were all over your face and neck, both your eyelids felt swollen, and your nose was almost stuffed.
Peter stand from the edge of the bed and advances to his desk from the side. A harsh bang echoed throughout the room as your body twitched out of shock.
“What does that dick have that I don’t?!” He grits his teeth as the curves of his jaw intensifies. A displeased look was written all over his face.
“P-please let me go.”
“I need you to answer, sweetie. We going nowhere unless you answer!” He was never going to let you go if you were not going to cooperate.
Every step he takes closer back to the bed just increases your heart beat further. He had rolled the sleeves of his sweater up to the edge of his elbows and you felt threatened looking at how firm his arms looked.
“Peter, p-please,” you hiccup.
As Peter returns to the edge of the bed, he does not hesitate anymore to keep a distance. His hands hover to either sides over your body and sets the left side of his head on your midriff, laying while also getting a good view of your vulnerable state.
He does not even look life he was struggling to make an effort to keep you down, but you could feel how heavy he was and was barely giving you a chance to move around.
“I can give you so much more, Y/N.” The way his gaze directs at you was definitely one of the creepiest things you have experienced. He had so much emotions yet completely lacked sympathy for your state of mind.
Shutting your eyes, you only cried further. You felt a hand cup one of your cheeks as its thumb wipes away the pouring tears. Like a broken record, you only pleaded more, “Please let me go.”
“I can’t.”
“Why.” You bawled, realizing he has no plans of releasing you anytime soon despite it. “I won’t tell anyone about this, I p-promise.”
“I know that,” he says, “but you’re going to run back to Eric, probably tell him too, right?”
You did not want to answer, merely shaking your head as you resisted a cry from your lips. It was somewhat what you had planned, but now you were just scared shitless.
“You won’t tell anyone but him cause no one knows about it other than you two, right?” He corners your words.
“Eric would lose his job if someone, especially your parents find out, right?” Hell he was correct. He most likely had been stalking you for so long to find out about it.
“You love him so much, you wouldn’t want to hinde
It was terrifying that someone had been learning about you and your life for a while without your awareness.
“Please stop. What do you want… money?” you whimper.
Peter did not seem likes normal college boy; he does not think like one, too, for sure. Anyone with a right mind would not do something like what he did. No one would have the guts to do so.
“I just want you, Y/N. I want to give you what you deserve,” Peter answers as he sits up and leans his face closer to yours. His mouth leaves a small gap from your right ear as he whispers, “Let me make you feel good.”
“No–”
He cuts off your plea with a proposition, “If you let me, I might consider letting you free.”
“You want that, right? Want me to let you go…” His hand combs through the other side of your face, “just let me show you that I can do way better than him.”
Every ounce of your blood was trying not to give in. You were smart, you ought to find a way out of this. However, you realized that it will not be enough. You already struggled so much from the super glue around your wrists and you could not imagine how much more would it take now that Peter was on top of you.
Eventually you stopped struggling and let him be. There was no way out of this than to let him do what he pleases.
You feel his lips press against your ear first and then progresses over your cheek. His grip around your arms loosen after detecting that you stopped struggling beneath him. You could feel him smile on your skin, “That’s it, relax for me. Good girl.”
His hand reaches to undo your pants as his lips drifted on yours to force their way on making out with you. Another hand then presses under your jaw and throat. “P-Peter,” you choke, feeling lightheaded after being unable to breath properly though your mouth until the grip had loosen.
“Sorry, babe.”
He soon descends from your face to your neck and collar region. You were so sure he was leaving marks on you as you felt him suck and nibble against your skin. Like a controlling asshole he was, you expect to see bruises on your skin by tomorrow.
Despite having your hands fastened, he still moves your shirt upwards past your head. It halts and hands loosely around your arms as you emerge topless beneath the boy.
“Fucking beautiful,” Peter compliments your body under his breath.
Although he seemed to have time on his hands, he does not leave a second wasted. He also goes to haul your pants past your legs and ankles. The growing look of impatience on his face says it all.
Peter moves from your side and welcomes himself between your legs. He spreads them out to have enough space for his body and you could not feel more embarrassed than this.
You grit your teeth over each other as you felt him press fingers against your cunt. Instinctively, you clench around nothing as he continues to play with your entrance, making sure you get entirely soaked under his touch.
“You know you shouldn’t hold back. I know you’re loving it so far, your body says otherwise,” he teases before laying on his stomach and moving his head closer to your pussy.
Without a warning, he licks a strip of you making the back of your thighs quake lightly. Peter senses your reaction and continues to do so, using his tongue to play around and poke inside of you until you were slowly giving in without even realizing it.
Just as you thought you were getting used to his actions, he then inserts fingers inside you, feeling your warmth around it as he pushes it in and out.
“Oh,” you moan.
He continues, making sure he also does not leave your bud of nerves behind. The tip of his fingers and tongue alternate on playing against it, making you throw back your head out of pleasure.
“I bet he doesn’t please you like this,” he scoffs.
Eventually, at your vulnerable state, you could already feel yourself closing to an orgasm. Your toes curled as your temples throbbed, sealing your eyes shut as you accepted on giving in.
You bit onto your lower lip, trying to resist a moan. Somewhere inside you, you were still trying to fight back and not let Peter have the satisfaction he had been craving.
“You’re being so tight… Just let it out.” He coaxes and you hate how you did what he told you so.
The extensive grin on his face seemed priceless. He pulled back and you were aware that you seemed exhausted beneath him. You assumed he was done with whatever he wanted to do with you.
But when he started to take off his sweater and unbutton his pants, you realized it was far from over.
As he presents himself just as naked in front of you, he again welcomes himself between your legs. This time you get a better view of him and his muscles and abs. He gets a good view of your body too for sure as his hand reaches to start stroking his dick.
He places one hand on your thigh and pushes it farther to give him more room. Finally, he inserts in inside you and you automatically felt him throbbing between.
There was a growing heat between the both of you, and it only intensified as Peter started to thrust his hips forward and backwards. There was not even a rhythm from him as he moves harder after hearing you softly moan underneath.
The slapping sound echoes through the room that would eventually reek of sex and you felt ashamed that your body was enjoying all of this.
“Ah… ah… ahh… agh….”
“You’re starting to enjoy this, aren’t you?” He brags as one hand was reaching for your breasts while the other holds your thigh up. “Fucking slut.”
Your body and mind were tired and could only hold so much longer. It was not a surprise when your stomach started to churn your the muscles in your thighs were cramping up.
Peter did no help after seeing you starting to wear out. He tried leaning in to make out with you and expect to moan into his mouth. You did for a moment, a combination of both your drools were streaming down from the corner of your mouth.
“We’re making a mess, huh,” he mumbles. “But I know you’re already a dirty fucking girl.”
He proceeds to deprave you with statements, “Can’t believe you’re enjoying my cock better than that old man’s… Such a fucking whore.”
You twist your head aside, trying to hide the fact that you feel like your temperature were burning up. You were so sure he could feel the increasing warmth of your walls either way.
Your eyes were rolling back as you resist arching your back, which was not really a success as the amount of pleasure was overwhelming.
As you writhe beneath him, you felt a hand on your cheek. It pushes your head back onto looking at front and at Peter. “I want you t look at me when you’re going to cum, sweetie,” he orders and you could not do much anyways.
The second time you came was a whole other level. You never felt this with any person you slept with so far, rather not this fast and intense to say. “That’s it, fuck, you’re tighter than I could ever imagine.”
Peter continues until it was his time to cum. The bed continues to move along with his pace and your body was basically abused to his liking.
And even if you were not aware of it, the boy was practically thankful that his agency decided to agree to soundproofing his whole apartment – his motive being for personal reasons, which they did not question any time soon.
You were helpless, you knew that. All you had in mind now was rest. Your eyelids were heavy and your mind was drifting to slumber.
The last thing you remember was Peter moving over your body to come all around your chest like a painter with its paint brush creating a masterpiece from your chest to your core.
Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, coercion, voyeurism, abuse of power, double penetration, cheating. My tags are not exhaustive, proceed at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary:Your marriage is challenged by the wandering eye of the king. (Medieval AU)
Characters:Peter Parker, Tony Stark
Note: Okay, it’s actually 9k long so apologies but hope you’re ready for this one shot I was like oh it’s gonna be 4k and quick but I’m that bitch.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3
Love you all like Prince Charming loves mirrors. Take care.
The breeze is balmy as it blows through the leaves and rustles the skirts heaped around you. You kneel on the ground without a care for soiling your dress, the sweat dripping down from your hairline as your fingers are stained purple with the juice of berries. The queen dares to taste one as she laughs with the duchess, Wanda, and you add a handful to the basket you share with Lisbeth.
The way Peter manipulated her into performing for the king was so slick. It really shows how he’s all about himself. Now I need for bae to poison his ass so she can get that ye old midieval insurance.
Cuz ain’t no way he gon sell her body for a fucking job and get away with it.
And fuck Tony too! He needs to be a parliament meeting or with his wife, not in other women’s nookies.
summary: Within the utopia of a northeastern suburban town, unconventional mothers aren’t treated with the most welcoming of gestures. However, contrary to what you’d believed, you actually can’t do it all, and as if you weren’t treated like a pariah enough, you heed Nat’s suggestion to take on a male nanny.
synopsis: Peter Parker has been your best friend for years. After you develop a relationship with somebody else, you see a side of him you’ve never seen before.
content warnings: RAPE/NONCON, blood,dark!peter parker, plus size!reader, negative self talk, insecurities, slow burn, implied stalking, oral (f! receiving), slapping, degradation, spit, unproteced sex, creampie, lmk if i missed any
He had shyly approached you, a blush high on his cheeks as he handed you a stack of papers. Confused, you simply stared at them, eyebrows cinched and lips slightly downturned.
You were well aware of who Peter Parker was. He was a member of the Midtown Academic Decathlon team that you were also part of; though you never directly interacted it’s him due to your nerves. He seemed kind, he was lanky and a little geeky, making him the butt of a lot of jokes. Much like you were. For opposite reasons, of course.
You were often teased and ridiculed for your size. You were heavier and much curvier than other girls your age. You had a puffy face and a matching plump body, most people couldn’t look past that. So, to say the least, you weren’t very popular.
Peter Parker knew all about you. He had been watching you since your freshman year. He was absolutely mesmerized when first laid eyes on you. He swears he had never seen a more beautiful sight than you, taking little, shy steps like you were afraid to make your presence known. Your hair was done in the way he would grow to like best, and you wore a pretty blue plaid skirt and a white sweater. The skirt was a tad too long and he could sense your discomfort as you tugged it down even further. He remembers staring at you as you looked around with unfamiliarity and slight fear in your eyes. The innocence in your eyes was also hard to miss. You held textbooks to your chest, an attempt to conceal your tummy. He watched as you stood alone, your cute nose making slight movements as you stood. Your nose wiggled like a little bunny. He felt the desire to protect you, keep you next to him and out of harm’s way. He regrets not approaching you that day. It would have saved you from a lonely year.
“I was told to give these to you,” he said silently, “I heard you missed a few days.”
“Oh,” you breathed, taking them from him, your chubby hands looking silly against his thin, veiny ones. Peter thought they looked perfect together. “Thank you, Peter,” you said, quickly pulling your hands away and hiding them behind your back when you saw his gaze on them.
His eyes lingered on where your hand was against his before he looked up at you and gave you a bright smile, “no problem.”
Peter walked you to your class after that, taking the empty seat beside you and discussing the subject matter with you. And to your surprise, he followed you to your next class, and the next, and the next. By the end of the day you were quite fond of the boy. He was a lot kinder than you’d imagined, he even promised to see you the following morning for breakfast with Ned and MJ. Of course, you tried to decline but he wouldn’t let you leave without the promise of arriving on time.
This was years ago and your friendship had only gotten stronger.
Being friends with Peter was refreshing and comforting. He wasn’t like the other guys you’d met in university. He didn’t have any ulterior motives nor did he fetishize you. He did not attempt to coerce you, or manipulate you into getting what he wants because you owedit to him. No, Peter would never do that.
Peter was actually the one to look after you, he made you aware of what those who sought you were really after. They want to take advantage of you, bunny, he’d said several times. They want to ruin you. He would never elaborate on what he meant when he said that and you didn’t like to pry. He just had a good judge of character is all.
Of course Ned and MJ were your friends too and they were very nice to you as well, but you always felt that they were only acquainted with you for Peter’s sake. You never hung out with them without Peter present but you tried not to let it bother you.
Your goal for the year was to acquire your own circle of friends, maybe even get a boyfriend after being single your entire life. Peter had a few girlfriends here and there, though nothing was ever serious. You couldn’t help but feel slightly envious of him, he had grown to be quite attractive, making it easy for him to make connections.
He had lost the baby fat on his cheeks, his jaw was now angular and his strong bone structure was one of his most prominent features on top of his big, brown eyes and muscular body. He was muscular in a lean way, a way that isn’t entirely noticeable under the sweaters he always wore.
Today Peter sat across from you, latte in hand as he basked in the morning sun. His tight black shit highlighted his muscular arms and chest, you caught yourself staring as you sometimes did when he ditched the ill-fitting clothing. His chocolate brown curls framed his face beautifully, looking golden where they met the sun. His lips, colored like pink peonies, rested with the slightest pout.
You sipped your london fog, squinting as you looked up in search of the singing bird in the tree above your head. You caught sight of it. The creature’s delicate red feathers looked like fire in the golden sky as it flew away. Your stare fell on Peter again, “our 8AM lecture was cancelled today.”
Peter hummed, not moving from his previous state, “I know.”
You huffed, “why’re we here, then?” you set your cup down, “it’s way too early. We, no I, should be in bed.”
Peter’s lips quirked up into a smile, “I wanted to hang out.”
“At six thirty A.M.? We could’ve hung out at a more reasonable hour, like, I don’t know, eleven,” you began ranting and you saw one of Peter’s eyes open slightly. “Or maybe twelve, we could’ve gotten breakfast or… or brunch!”
“You never eat breakfast,” he said, swinging his head forward, eyes now fully open and on you.
“I do…” you claimed, your nose scrunching, lips pouting.
Peter clicked his tongue, “not enough.”
“Well, whatever,” you opted to change the subject before he could continue further.
“We still could’ve met up later. Like I said, brunch.”
“I don’t know,” he began, sitting up all the way now, “I kinda like being out this early. It’s nice and quiet.”
“I guess so,” you murmured, leaning back to rest on your elbows.
Peter watched you, gaze moving from your Mary Jane clad feet to your pretty hair. You wore a dress today. It was Peter’s favorite dress, not that you knew that. It was a lilac purple color and it had short, puffy sleeves. He liked the way the dress clung to your curves and complimented your skin tone. It was the shortest of all your dresses, so he especially liked the way it rode up your thighs when you sat down, making your pudgy thighs all the more visible to him. He stared at them now, noticing the way the plush fat pooled around you like a sea of soft flesh as you relaxed. He wanted to grab them, bury his face in them and drown in you.
His eyes ran up your body further, over the curve of your tummy and swell of your breasts. The necklace Peter had gifted you last Christmas sat prettily around your neck, resting on your bare chest above the heart shaped neckline of your dress, rising and falling as you breathed. He stared at it, not noticing when you opened your eyes to look at him.
“Okay?” he heard you ask.
“Mhm,” he replied, tearing his eyes away and giving you a soft smile.
+
The morning had passed rather quickly and you perked up after your second tea of the day. Your last class of the day was your creative writing class. As you strode in, you took your usual seat in the front of the room, setting your things down beside you.
Your focus was on the board in front of you when you felt a gush of air on your left. You looked over, catching sight of a tall figure sitting down beside you.
“Hey,” the man exhaled, setting down his things next to yours.
You opened your mouth to respond but you ended up holding your hand up to signal a hello.
The man smiled, “I’m Harry,” he held a hand out for you to shake.
You looked at it, quietly introducing yourself as you took his pale hand. Your touch was featherlight as it took you by surprise when he gripped it tightly with a slight laugh.
Harry was effortlessly charming. He was cute and cool and he had a sharp sense of humor, you learned. But on top of that, he had a contagious smile and a gaze that made you feel like you were the most important person in the room. You often caught yourself gazing at him with the corner of your eye trying to be inconspicuous with your staring. He had shiny blonde hair that you thought resembled Peter’s. Only lighter and shorter and straighter and not really like Peter’s at all.
You weren’t sure why your mind had suddenly wandered to Peter. Maybe a part of you wondered what he would think of Harry. Or maybe you were subconsciously comparing them. You weren’t sure.
“Hey, um,” you turned towards Harry who had begun speaking. Class had ended and you were gathering your things. “We should meet up,” he grinned, “maybe the library?”
You weren’t used to social invitations, much less from men like Harry.
“Does tomorrow at four work for you?”
You nodded, unable to find your voice. You felt blood rush to your face at the look he gave you next. It was like he was trying to figure you out, understand you with a simple glance. Like he was trying to read you like a book.
“Great,” he picked up your bag for you, “looking forward to it.”
+
Peter was laying on your bed when you arrived at your little studio apartment. He was half asleep, strong arms wrapped tightly around your stuffed bunny and surrounded by your assortment of other stuffed animals. He shot up at the sound of the door opening, “hey.”
“Do you ever go home?” you kicked off your shoes and set your bag down. “This place isn’t big enough for the both of us.”
In his mind it was. Just perfect. It kept you close.
“Why would I? You’re such good company, bunny.”
You snorted, “I’m sure that’s the reason and definitely not you trying to get away from Ned and Betty.”
You moved towards your bed, plopping down next to him, adjusting the skirt of your dress that had ridden up when you landed. Peter watched your hands as they rested on your tummy. He could see right down your dress. He could see the white bra hugging your tits, a little bow between the cups.
“What?” you asked, self consciously moving your hand to your chin.
“Nothing. Don’t do that,” he looked at the ceiling. It bothered Peter when you did things like that. As if you weren’t the most beautiful person he had ever seen.
You simply huffed, “how did you even get in here?”
He motioned toward the open window, “you really need to start locking it. One of these days a creep could just come waltzing in and you’d have no idea.”
“A creep like you,” you joked with a breathy laugh. You tore your stuffed bunny from his arms.
“Worse,” he said lazily.
Silence filled the room for a few seconds as Peter began to doze off again.
“I met this guy in class today.”
Peter was suddenly very awake. “Oh,” a pause, “who?”
“He said his name is Harry, I don’t know his last name but he was very nice.” You sounded excited, “we’re meeting up at the library tomorrow to study and get some work done.”
Get some work done. Sure, that’s what you were gonna do. Peter knew better than that. You didn’t, of course. That’s why you were so lucky to have Peter with you, by your side, protecting you from evil college guys who just wanted to get under your skirt. They wouldn’t have a clue what to do to you. How to make you feel good and have you purring sweetly in their ears…
“So, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t break into my home.”
“Huh?”
You gave him an unamused look, “you weren’t listening.”
He grinned, “I’m always listening.”
You rolled your eyes, “I said, don’t come by just in case we come back here.”
Peter furrowed his brows in disgust. What business would hehave coming back to your apartment if you were just going to study? Did he ask you if he could come over?
“Why would you do that?”
You shifted uncomfortably, “I don’t know…”
Peter felt sick.
“We should do something else instead. There’s a new vietnamese place not far from here. MJ says they have really good pho.”
“Peter…” you started. He knew you were going to say no. You rarely said no to him. “How about Friday? We can get takeout and come back here and watch movies. Your pick.”
His first mistake was looking over at you. Your chubby cheeks and pretty lips pulled up into a sweet smile. Your eyes were pleading, please say yes, please say yes. His second mistake was giving in.
“Fine.”
+
Peter left your apartment shortly after that. You had spent the rest of the night going over the conversation trying to figure out where you went wrong. He had seemed upset as he hugged you goodbye. His brown eyes didn’t hold the same warmth they always did. Maybe he thinks I’m trying to replace him. But that wouldn’t make any sense. You only just met Harry. You didn’t know anything about him besides his first name.
“Hey!” Harry called, a tad too loudly for the library. He stood from his seat, waving you over.
In all honesty, you didn’t expect him to be there. It was a little before four and you had arrived with low expectations. Though this was only intended to be a study session and nothing more, Harry was a very attractive man. He was funny and charming and extroverted and you… were none of those things.
“Hi,” you mumbled as you neared the table he was seated at. It was in the far corner, furthest away from the librarian. Or any of the other stressed university students.
“I chose this table so we won’t have to whisper,” he smiled, patting the open seat beside him.
His eagerness made you blush. “Good idea,” your voice was still small.
He chuckled, “thanks,” he dramatically whispered.
You blushed further, “sorry.”
The both of you were silent as you took out your laptops.
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you for some time now,” he started. “I read one of your pieces when the semester started and I really enjoyed it. You’re a phenomenal writer.”
“Really?” he appeared nonchalant as he typed in his password. As if he hadn’t just given you the kindest compliment you had ever received.
“Yeah, it’s so obvious how passionate you are. I mean everytime I look at you, you look so entranced by the books you read or by the professor or your own work.”
He looked at you?
“Oh,” your face felt warmer, “um, thank you.”
He smiled at you, “no problem, it’s true.”
You felt butterflies in your tummy and you began to log into your laptop to avoid looking at him.
You began to work in silence, hyper aware of everytime Harry leaned in close to you, reading your story as you typed. He smelled of musk and vanilla. His head of blonde locks tickled your ear.
Eventually, you presumed he grew bored as he shut his laptop and turned to face you in his chair. You attempted to ignore him but your typing began to slow and your focus was only on the boy beside you.
You gave him a faux look of annoyance, “I thought we were here to study.”
“We are,” he propped his head up on his hand that rested on the table. “To study and get to know each other.”
Get to know each other.
That was unexpected.
You couldn’t ignore the butterflies that erupted in your tummy, “Oh, okay, yeah.”
Surprisingly, you had a decent amount in common with Harry. Of course, not overly so. Not like you and Peter. But this is a good thing. You’re making your own friends.
+
“Oh, he’s so lovely, Pete!” you gushed, your nose wiggling as you spoke.
“Mhm,” Peter watched you with a strange look, mouth full of boba pearls, “you’ve mentioned that.”
You gave him a smile that normally would have made him turn to mush. Only this time, it didn’t. Had you smiled at Harry like that?
“I’m excited!” you waved your hands in the air, “I’m making my own friends, Pete. I’m an independent woman now.”
He rolled his eyes as he took another sip of his tea, “good. Good for you.” He couldn’t help the bitter feeling that rested in the pit of stomach.
Independent. You had made a single “friend” (Peter didn’t even want to think about that. He knew Harry was just using you, that’s not what friends do. You shouldn’t throw that term around like that. Hewas your friend. Peterwas your friend.) and you already pegged yourself as independent. He could laugh in your face. You were far too pure to face the world without him by your side. Like hell you were independent.
You pouted, your eyes searching for his, “are you angry with me?”
Angry? Why would he be angry? Because you hadn’t shown at your arranged time? Because the reason you were late was because you wanted to squeeze in an extra “study date” with Harry? No, he wasn’t angry. Not at you anyway.
“Of course not, bunny. Could never be.”
It was true, he wasn’t necessarily angry, he was more so slightly bothered by what you had done. That’s how it usually was. You would do something that Peter did not agree with but he would never be angry. Just mildly annoyed. He couldn’t actually be angry with his sweet little bunny. You probably didn’t even know the consequences of your actions. He couldn’t blame you for that.
You smiled, leaning in to give him a hug. Peter was immediately enveloped in warmth, your soft body melding with his. The sweet scent of lavender and honey was all around in. Your hair tickled his neck where you buried your face. You were on your knees on the couch, allowing Peter a view of your backside covered in your lounge wear.
He loved your hugs. They always succeed in lifting his spirits and making him a little dizzy. You were just so warm and soft and perfect for him.
You pulled away, still smiling as you sunk back into your spot on your tiny, tiny couch and pulling your own tea to your lips.
He let himself watch as you wrapped your lovely mouth around the straw. A minuscule puddle of milk tea formed on your bottom lip, and you licked it up as you removed the straw. Your tongue was wet and a delightful shade of pink as you slid it across the expanse of your lip.
He felt a throb in his sweatpants. Shifting, he asked, “so, what else did you do today?”
You hummed, chewing the balls of boba in your mouth, “that’s all. Just hung out with Harry. We have a lot more in common than I thought,” you giggled. “We just don’t run out of things to talk about.”
He inhaled, feeling himself go soft, “that’s a lot of talking in the library.”
“Oh, we didn’t go to the library,” you shook your head.
He gave you a look, “where did you go?”
You looked hesitant, “um, we went to his flat. It was nearby and he had forgotten his books, so it was easier to stay there.”
How convenient.
“Bunny,” Peter started.
You had a guilty look on your face as you stared at him, “I know,” your voice was small, “not safe. I know… but he’s not like the other guys Pete. He wouldn’t hurt me.”
“How can you be so sure, hm? You’re in no way prepared to protect yourself. What if he had done something to you? What would you have done?”
“He wouldn’t…” you looked down, “he wouldn’t do anything.” You bit your lip as you nervously whispered, “I think he likes me.”
Peter could hardly hear you. He was sure he hadn’t heard correctly because of how softly you spoke. “Speak up, bunny. I can’t hear you.”
“I said I think he likes me,” you said a little louder. He could see the embarrassment on your face. Like you couldn’t believe you had said that out loud.
Peter swallowed, “oh.”
There was a pause, “what makes you think that?”
“Well,” your nose fluttered, “he said he’s never met anyone like me. And he,” you glanced up at him before returning your gaze to your lap, “he tried to kiss me.”
Oh.
Peter didn’t know how to react. He stared at your pretty eyes with his brows cinched and an analyzing gaze. The first thought to pop into his was: did you kiss him?Then:did you want to kiss him?
“Oh,” he managed to say, “did you?”
You inhaled, “um, no…” you trailed off, shifting uncomfortably. “I couldn’t.”
Good. He doesn’t deserve to feel your lips. He doesn’t deserve your first kiss.
“I don’t know how,” you looked up at him. Your eyes looked glassy and you had a look of embarrassment on your face.
It should have been obvious. Peter did keep any potential love interest as far from you as you could manage, yet he was still flustered.
He hummed, feeling blood rush to his groin, “you don’t?”
You shook your head, “no… never learned how.”
Your lips looked so pretty as you pouted, shame present on your face. Peter wanted to reach over, pull you in close and kiss you softly. He wanted to run his hands through your hair and up your soft curves. To hear your lovely noises as you gave into him.
He grimaced as the image of Harry’s dirty lips inching closer to yours. Your pure, innocent mouth being tainted by his filthy one. He could have that. What else would he make you do?
He could only imagine your gasp of surprise, your inexperienced movements, your sugary taste. But you were sitting right in front of him, weren’t you? You had enough confidence in him that you would even confess such a thing. He was obligated to help you, wasn’t he? You’re essentially asking for help, right?
“I could,” he paused, unsure, “I could teach you.”
“Really?” You straightened your back a tad, eyes widening at the offer.
You trusted him so much. After all these years that you’d known him, Peter had never once misled you in any way shape or form. He was the person you trusted most because you knew he had your best interest in mind. He was your best friend. He was there to keep you safe.
“Mhm,” he moved a little closer, “if you’d want that, I can.”
You nodded eagerly, “yes, Peter, please.”
Yes, Peter, please…
You sat still as Peter invaded your space.
He licked his lips, you reluctantly placed one hand on your thigh, and the other reaching up to cup your chubby face. The warmth of your being was seeping into him so deep he felt warmer than he ever had.
You looked at him expectantly, your glassy gaze flickering from his golden brown eyes to his lips.
“Are you ready?” He whispered, mouth mere inches from yours.
You inhaled, “yes, Peter. I wanna be good for Harry.”
He ignored the pang in his chest, “well, you have to be good for me first, bunny.”
You nodded, fluttering your eyes shut. He watched you for a second. Your nose wiggled faintly as you breathed and you sat patiently waiting with your pouty lips puckered up slightly.
He was able to see it all this close to you. All of your imperfections that he never had the privilege of noticing before. It only made him long for you more.
Peter ignored the thought in his head that said if he knew you’d give into him so easily under the pretense of teaching you, he would’ve offered his services much earlier.
He leaned in, hovering just before your lips, eyeing how your eyebrows furrowed and your lips extended further. But not single complaint about Peter’s excruciatingly slow pace because he knows best, and he knew you knew that.
He could feel your shaky exhales on his skin as he finally connected your lips. He felt himself twitch, once, twice, at the sheer feeling of your lips pressed against his. It was harder to refrain from going further - maybe a hand up your thigh, up your belly and to your tits, maybe wrap them around your neck…
He felt your face contort as he began to finally move his mouth against yours, your kisses were as sloppy as he’d imagined them to be. And he was correct, your inexperience made him painfully hard. He reluctantly removed his hand from your thigh and placed it on his bulge. He just couldn’t resist. You let out a high shaky breath as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, tasting you.
Peter could taste the remnants of your milk tea on your tongue. You attempted to mirror his movements and he felt another throb at your feeble efforts.
He rubbed his hand onto his hard cock to resist the urge to do something completely inappropriate like take your hand to place it on his thigh to get him even closer to his release. He didn’t believe it would take much at all for him to cum. Your mouth moving against his was more than enough.
You began to get the hang of it and it somehow made Peter’s erection even more painful. His hips involuntarily jerked as you wrapped your arms up around his neck, tugging him close. Your thigh brushed against his cock, he sighed. You gasped, your tongue halting its sloppy movements.
He could feel you pulling back and he chased your lips, pushing into you and not permitting you to disconnect your mouths. You leaned back against the arm of the small couch in your attempt to pull away from your best friend’s lips. Peter followed you, body against yours. His cock sat on your thigh and he hoped you couldn’t feel it twitch.
As his hips made small movements, grinding into your thigh. One of his hands wrapped around the back of your head, keeping you against him, while the other felt up your sides, resting below your tits. You let out a whiny sound as you began to kiss him back again.
Peter’s thrusts became more erratic as he drew closer and closer to the edge. He felt your thigh tense and your hips lifted off the couch, pushing into his lower abdomen. Your arms tightened around his neck.
Your kisses were still messy, you used far too much tongue and had little technique but Peter had never had a better kiss. He came abruptly when you moaned into his mouth again, hand pulling on the hair at the name of his neck. He pulled away from you and groaned, out of breath into your shoulder as he steadied himself.
“Pete,” you breathed, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be so eager.”
Peter was taken aback. He didn’t respond as he regained his composure into your warm shoulder, inhaling your scent. His cock was slowly going soft but the proximity to you made him believe that it would shoot back up with any movement you made.
“I just,” a pause, “I guess I got a little carried away.”
It baffled Peter that you thought any of what happened had been your fault. As if he didn’t invade your space and force your head into place so he could get himself off.
“It’s okay, bunny.”
You buried your head into his shoulder and there was no sign of parting for a while. Peter only pulled away when he felt his hot cum seeping through his pants in a wet puddle. His movements were quick when he grabbed a throw pillow and threw it over his lap.
“You know I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”
+
You had spent an increasing amount of time with Harry over the last few weeks. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you’d thought he’d have grown bored of you by now. But it seemed the opposite. He texted you often, smiled at you in a way that made you feel warm and special, and he seemed genuinely interested and excited to speak to you. You hadn’t felt that way since you met Peter.
Harry had even asked you out on a date. On Saturday evening he promised to pick you up from your apartment and take you somewhere you’d never been. You had little time to think of anything else because of how excited you were. Harry Osborn wanted to go on a date with you.
It had been the only thing on your mind for the last week. Well, that and your mess of a friendship with Peter Parker.
After the kiss shared with Peter, you had spent less time with him. On top of plans with Harry, you felt guilty for how you acted. You felt that you had taken advantage of him and his kindness. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed and in a way uncomfortable around Peter now. You knew it wasn’t his fault, it was yours. And he deserved better.
You began to ignore his calls and texts and you took different routes to and from your classes. You even stopped replying to Ned and MJ after they began questioning where you’d run off to. In a way that comment made you feel a little ridiculous. It was like they expected Peter to be dragging you around on a leash. Like you were his little pet or something of the like.
That wasn’t Peter’s fault though. You didn’t believe anything was. Peter was a saint in your eyes. Your savior of a life of solace. That’s why you felt the worst you ever had about locking your window.
The first night, you had pretended to be asleep when you heard light taps on the glass. You closed your eyes and ignored the noise, waiting what felt like hours to move again.
Now, almost two weeks later, you had finally been confronted.
Peter looked at you with a look you had never seen and couldn’t decipher. His lips were pulled in a tight line and his forehead and eyebrows were creased, his eyes looked darker and his gaze was hard and they held a different feeling. Even the air around him felt different, it was cold and suffocating.
“You’re avoiding me.”
“Hm? Oh, no, no, Pete m’not-“
“You are.”
You opened your mouth to speak but your words were caught in your throat. You were avoiding him.
“Why? Did I do something to upset you?”
“No,” you took a deep breath, “I’ve just been busy-“
“Busy? With what? Osborn? He keeping you so busy that you can’t even respond to my texts?”
You felt your lip quiver and your eyes welled up with tears at his tone and his unwavering stare. Peter had never reacted this way towards you. You didn’t even know he could speak that way.
You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, so you looked down at your feet and attempted to blink away your tears.
Peter looked down at you, waiting for you to say something, anything. He wanted - no, he expected an apology. He had been restless the past few weeks, waiting for you to respond to him. He had been following you around as New York’s friendly neighbor Spider-Man, so he was well aware of what you were up to. He watched as you found new routes to your home, hid away in obscure places and, of course, he watched your giddy expression as Harry Osborn gripped your hand or your waist and walked around with you on his arm like he owned you.
It didn’t help that Peter had seen you locking your window. Double checking, triple checking that you had locked it and then periodically again throughout the day. At first Peter suspected that you had known he got off on your thigh that day, that you were creeped out or disgusted by him.
“So? What is it? Why have you been avoiding me?”
You sniffled and Peter was surprised by himself when he didn’t soften at the noise. He didn’t feel the usual tighten of his heart nor did his stare on you become less intense. He wanted you to feel like this. It made it feel a sort of power having you vulnerable in front of him, for him.
“Y/N, I’m speaking to you. I expect an answer. Did you lose your ability to speak to me when you started fooling around with Osborn? Neglecting me? Neglecting our friendship? Does it mean so little to you?”
Tears started falling from your eyes at the sound of your name. Peter never called you that. You were his bunny, his best friend. You covered your face with your hands in shame. You weakly shook your head.
“So you can’t speak, hm?”
Peter could think of a few ways to get you to start talking. Many scenarios to get your pretty mouth moving.
Peter had thought a lot about you recently, somehow even more than normal. His thoughts had turned alarmingly crude the more time you spent away from him. What was once an innocent daydream of kissing your lips turned into a filthy, sordid fantasy of flipping your skirt and fucking you over the table in the library where you studied with Harry.
Flashes of your mouth and body were intrusive thoughts and the feeling of them on him lingered. They left him unable to focus on patrolling, ultimately leading to him jacking off on the roof of the building across the street from your apartment. Some days, he was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of your bare legs through cracks in your sheer white curtains.
“M’sorry Peter,” you peered up at him through teary lashes, “didn’t mean to make you sad.”
He clicked his tongue, “well, you did.”
You let out a sob as you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his waist and tucking your face into his chest. His heart rate kept its steady pace and Peter stood still for a few seconds. Would he forgive you, no, could he forgive you so easily?
He focused on your warmth around him and he felt his walls lower. He begrudgingly hugged you back, taking in the feel of your curves under his fingers. He sighed, “it’s okay, bunny. Don’t cry.”
You wanted to cry harder. Normally, Peter would be cradling your face, wiping your tears and pulling you close, enveloping you in his warmth. It was nothing like his tight grip and cold demeanor he currently had. You hadn’t meant to upset him so much but you just felt so guilty for possibly crossing or blurring the lines of your friendship.
Peter knew he would give into you. The way you whimpered and cried into his chest made his heart feel heavy. He began to rub your back and he placed a kiss on your head. Your arms tightened around him.
“C’mon, bunny. It’s okay, we’re okay.”
You whimpered again, doing all you could to collect yourself. Peter held you tightly until you lifted your head.
Your face was red and puffy, wet with your tears and your eyeliner was smudged at the corners of your bloodshot eyes. Your lips were slightly opened as you breathed through your mouth. Your nose was runny and you sniffled, nose wiggling. Peter felt his pants tighten. You looked so wrecked and it was all for him. Because he was upset with you. Hehad that power over you.
“Are you okay?” concern filled his face.
“Mhm,” you said, a shakily smiling. “Missed you.”
He smiled at you and you felt the warmth return, “I missed you more, bun. Should we catch up?”
You nodded frantically, grabbing his hand and pulling him in the direction of your apartment.
+
Things had since gotten much better. You were in Peter’s grasp once more and Harry Osborn had been moved to the backburner.
You sighed as you switched your kettle on for a cup of tea. Peter was busy and you were stuck at home alone again. You were bored beyond belief as your eyes flickered from your TV to the warming kettle. You foot tapped on the ground and you all but ran to your phone when the familiar pingcame from it.
Your eyes widened and excitement erupted in your belly. Harry had sent you a message.
hey stranger… u around?
You contemplated an answer. A part of you felt you shouldn’t respond but another was happy to hear from him.
Maybe
The response was instantaneous.
meet me at the bar
You smiled, rushing to your closet.
After making up with Peter you had begun to neglect your friendship with Harry. You were so focused on keeping Peter happy with you. This had become an increasingly difficult task that required a lot of time and attention.
Peter was easily bothered with you now. His patience would run thin and he would turn cold in the blink of an eye. You had spent nights crying, wishing you hadn’t ruined your most important friendship. But none of that stopped you from trying.
You knew Peter didn’t like Harry, that was obvious. He’d roll his eyes and stare blankly at you with an expression of disappointment you had seen so much of recently whenever you would mention him in conversation. He made sure to remind you that Harry was just like other boys who wanted to take advantage of you and hurt you but he said nothing more.
As you walked into the cafe, Harry waved his arms in the air. You smiled, blush forming as you took a seat across from him. He looked happy to see you, and he told you that.
“I missed you, y’know,” he looked down, a pink hue on his cheeks. “Haven’t seen much of you recently.”
“Me too, um, sorry about that. I’ve been a little, um, busy.”
He looked up with a shy grin, “s’okay, I’m happy you’re here now.” You were slightly taken aback by his shyness.
He paused, licking his lips and taking a deep breath, “so, Y/N, I’ve been thinking…”
Oh no, here it goes. He’s gonna tell you that he can’t see you anymore. That he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore.
“Would you like to go on a date with me?”
Your heart stopped, a date? You had ever been on a date before. “A date?”
He cleared his throat, looking nervous, “uh, yeah. It’s just, I’ve been thinking about you a lot, and I missed you so much the last few weeks. So I thought I’d finally ask.”
You exhaled, trying to process his question. “Yes, I’d love to,” you said, face warm and bashful smile.
+
It was cold outside as you walked back to your apartment. Harry had offered to drive you home but you declined, wanting some time alone to think.
Your mind was racing as you turned into the alleyway before your apartment. You were going on a date with Harry Osborn. What would you wear? What would you talk about? What would you tell Peter?
You sighed, glancing around the dark alley. There was a spider web hanging from a pipe a few steps ahead of you. You began to walk a little faster. If Spider-Man was around there was likely some sort of criminal activity. Hopefully it wasn’t too close to home.
As you rushed into your apartment, you didn’t bother turning on the lights. You shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your shoes, sighing deeply as you plopped down onto your bed.
“Where were you?”
Your eyes darted to the source of the noise. The streetlight peering in through the window illuminated him just a tad, barely enough to see his face. But it didn’t matter, you’d recognize that silhouette anywhere.
“Peter? How did you get in here?” You distinctly remember closing the window, locking it and double checking before walking out the door.
“You were out with Harry. I saw you.”
“Oh, um,” you sat up and pulled your dress down, “W-we were just getting a drink.”
He inhaled deeply and hummed, “just getting a drink.” He let out a dark laugh, “sure you were.”
“We,” you paused, “we were. I haven’t seen him in a while.”
Peter scoffed, “and that’s why you agreed to go on a date with him, hm?”
You opened your mouth to speak but he didn’t let you.
“I thought we’d gotten past this, bunny.” Peter tapped his foot. Did you feel like you didn’t need him anymore? After all he’d done for you? All these years by your side and you abandon him for the first man who gives you the time of day.
“Why don’t you listen to me? I only want what’s best for you. For us.”
You stayed quiet, looking down at your frilly, white socks. Peter sighed and you heard him rise from his spot on the couch. He lifted your chin with his cold fingers. His eyes looked dark again and the darkness of your room added to the eerie feel of him. He leaned down, fingers light on your chin as he drew closer to your lips. You turned your face away before he could connect your mouths.
What was he doing?
He scoffed quietly as his hold on your face tightened and forced your face to its previous position. You furrowed your brows as you tried to turn away again.
“Pete, what are you doing?”
“I’m tired of you treating me this way. I deserve better after all i’ve done for you. All these years I have been there for you. I made sure you were okay and I loved you through it all.”
He loved you? You didn’t like the sound of that. Peter was your best friend and nothing more and you dreaded the possibility that he could think of you as something more than that.
“I know that,” you whispered, “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
A tiny smile graced his lips.
You returned it, “and I love you too Peter, you’re my best friend.”
His grip on your chin turned painful.
Best friend.
He laughed darkly as he shook his head slightly, “best friend.” He smiled.
Feeling uneasy you smiled softly at him, forcing out a giggle.
His smile fell, “bunny, I love you. I want to be with you. I want you to be mine.”
You gulped, “um,” you looked down, “Peter, I don’t, I don’t feel that way about you.”
“Why? Because of Harry? Because you have ‘choices’ now, hm? I’m not good enough for you?”
You stayed quiet, trying to steady your breathing to keep yourself from crying as Peter used his free hand to move up your arm to your shoulder, holding it forcefully.
You didn’t even know Peter was remotely interested in you. The entire confession made you feel sick to your stomach. While you hadn’t known, the revelation didn’t change the fact that, to you, he was just a friend. This had nothing to do with Harry and his romantic interest in you.
“No, Peter, I just, I’m sorry. I don’t like you like that,” you looked down and spoke so softly you doubted he could hear you.
He scoffed, letting go of your chin and shoulder with a push. You steadied yourself, looking up to see him pacing around the room. You wanted to ask him to leave, but before you could he turned to you again.
“He could never treat you like I do.”
“Peter…”
“No! He couldn’t. I know deep down you know that. He wouldn’t know what to do with a pretty girl like you.”
You shifted uncomfortably.
Peter watched as you fiddled with the hem of your dress. It was the purple one again, his favorite. Harry would never be able to satisfy you the way he would. He just needs to find a way to let you know that. No, he has shown you. Everything he had done since you met should have shown you. You were just… ungrateful. He needed to let you know that you couldn’t get away from him. There was no one else that could love you like he could.
Your heartbeat sped up as Peter took long strides towards you.
“He doesn’t deserve you like I do,” he shoved his knee between your own and forced them open just enough to fit his leg between them. “And I’m gonna show you, that only I know how to treat you. I know what you deserve and I can give it to you.”
You were confused and scared, you watched him cautiously as he stood before you.
His hand reached for your hair, he touched it lightly. You let out a shaky breath. You didn’t know what he was about to do. You weren’t sure what he was capable of anymore.
His fingers caressed your face, giving your chubby cheeks a light squeeze as he moved his hand down to your neck. You let out a shaky breath as his hands ghosted over your throat.
“Peter,” you whispered, “what are you doing?”
He smiled, “I’m gonna make you mine, bunny.”
You felt your lip quiver and you hesitantly pushed his chest, trying to get him away from you. “No, Peter. I don’t want this.”
His hands tightened around your neck, “you don’t know what you want. You’re just a dumb bunny. You don’t know what is good for you. I do.”
Tears welled in your eyes as he leaned down to leave wet kisses on your cheeks and jaw, his hands on your throat.
You moved your face away, side to side, avoiding his lips. His grip cut off your airways as he gave you a shake, “stop.” He pushed you onto your back, attacking you with kisses.
Tears fell from your eyes as you tried to push him back. You should’ve been able to, even if it was just a little. But he didn’t budge. Your legs kicked his own trying to get him off. He acted like you hadn’t touched him at all. You bit down on his tongue as it forced its way into your mouth, he pulled back in surprise. You took the opportunity to wiggle out from under him, moving as fast as you could towards the door.
Peter’s temper was running thin. With quick movements he activated the web shooter tucked under the sleeve of his plaid shirt.
You barely made it a few steps when you were pulled back. Your eyes went to Peter who was seated on your bed, cold look on his face. The sight of your hand stuck to the table left you in shock. The sticky substance was too strong for you to pull back. You began to sob as you connected the dots.
Peter was Spider-Man.
You didn’t know how you hadn’t figured it out before. You should’ve known. The random bruises on his body, the overnight strength and agility, the disappearances, the way he always knew where you were and what you were doing… it should’ve been obvious.
“Peter, please, let me go,” you cried, using all the strength you could muster to attempt to free your hand.
He stood from the bed and took slow steps to where you stood. “You’re my little bunny, and you’re not going anywhere until you realize that.”
As he worked to free your hand you took the other and impulsively delivered a harsh slap to his cheek. Peter didn’t react right away. He kept his eyes on your hand for a few seconds before glancing up.
“Ungrateful little bitch.”
You inhaled, trying to stare at him with the same venom that he did you. He continued to free your hand, sliding the little knife across your thumb, slicing it. You hissed in pain.
You were so confused, this man was nothing like the Peter Parker you knew and loved. This man was pure evil and you wanted to get as far away from him as you possibly could.
Peter stared at you in disbelief. Could you not see that he was only trying to give you the best? He had to make you see it even if it meant by force. He looked into your eyes filled with fear, tearing threatening to fall and your lip quivering. He wanted you so bad and he was finally going to have you.
Peter looked down, watching the slow drops build on your finger tip before falling onto the counter. Your hand was barely trembling and he softened immediately. He hadn’t meant to cut you so deep.
“I’m sorry, bunny. Are you okay?”
His change in demeanor puzzled you, he had went from evil to the gentle Peter you knew and loved.
You nodded stupidly, “mhm, hurts just a little, Peter.”
“Aw, bunny,” he said softly, taking your sticky hand and bringing it to his lips.
His tender touch had you in his grasp again, like he hadn’t just assaulted you, screamed at you, cutyou.
He placed a soft kiss to your bleeding finger, eyes looking lovingly into yours. You fed into it, like you always did. A drop of your blood rested on his bottom lip, and you watched as he licked it up with a swipe of his tongue.
He closed his eyes, relishing in the taste of you on his tongue. His cock twitched and he ached to taste your pretty cunt in his tongue. He wasted no time.
Before you knew it, he was throwing you to the bed with ease, flipping your skirt up. He inhaled deeply, feeling his pants tighten further by the sight of your panties. They were just as cute as you. Just what he imagined you’d wear, yet somehow it was better. Your panties were a pale pink color, little hearts a darker shade of pink littering the fabric. He couldn’t help but stare, taking in the view of your pretty panties covering your perfect, plump ass.
Cries escaped you, pleas for him to just stop. He ignored them, instead giving your right ass cheek a little slap. He moaned at the cry you made, the way your flesh rippled at the impact.
You had been fooled once again. The Peter Parker you once knew was long gone.
Peter looped his fingers under the delicate fabric, your skin warm, he pulled up roughly. You yelped, arching your back to relieve the pain, but it only gave Peter a better look at your puffy pussy, bulging against the fabric he had pulled.
“Oh,” he cooed, leaning down and placing a kiss to your ass.
Tears pricked at your eyes again, threatening to fall as you tried to rack your brain for ideas on how to get yourself out of the current situation. You gasped at the abrupt feeling of cold air on your cunt. The tears began to fall.
Unable to control himself, Peter placed a sloppy wet kiss to your cunt. You gasped loudly, trying to move your ass away. He held your hips tightly in place, pressing pecks along the entirety of your backside. A strangled moan fell from your lips as he kissed your clit.
Peter stared at your pussy, admiring the wet string of slick that drilled from your little hole. He felt a sense of accomplishment at the drip of slick, he was making you feel good even when you resisted. Extending his tongue from his mouth, he licked up your slit, flicking his tongue as he did so. He moaned at the taste of your sweet juices.
He finally let himself loose, allowing himself to bury his head into your puffy cunt. His hands groped your thighs, kneading them, keeping them apart so he had good access to your cunt.
You tried to hold in your body’s reactions. You held your breath, curled your toes and turned your hands to fists. But you couldn’t stop a loud mewl as Peter swirled his tongue around your sensitive bud. You bit your lip as you contained sobs.
Your fingers grabbed onto your sheets, squeezing them tightly as you felt yourself becoming more aroused. The lewd sounds from Peter combined with the wet sounds of your pussy. Peter was basically drooling, strings of spit and slick keeping him attached to you even when he pulled back for air. He couldn’t get enough of the taste of you.
You felt a coil form in your tummy, tightening with every passing second.
“Are you gonna cum for me, bunny?” Peter asked, his voice deep.
Your body was trembling and your hips unconsciously pressed into his face. You shook your head, closing your eyes tightly as your mouth opened involuntarily, loud cry slipping out as the coil snapped. You shook, your knees going weak as your body was overtaken by the pleasant, but unfamiliar sensation.
Peter groaned into your sopping cunt as he licked up your release. His cock was so hard it was painful, his mindless humping on your sheets wasn’t nearly enough. He held you up when your body gave in, on the verge of going limp as he continued his movements on your pussy long after you had become sensitive.
“Peter, please stop, hurts,” you managed to blubber out.
He pulled away, a string of spit connecting you. He watched as it snapped, falling onto his plaid shirt. He licked his lips, sliding his arms out from under your thighs. Your lower half hit your bed and you were unable to move. Your pussy throbbed from overstimulation as you laid dumbly. Weak little moans falling from your mouth.
Peter reached a hand up to wipe at his face, collected the excess juices and inserted his fingers into his mouth to consume it. He savored the taste, watching as your body jolted from the aftershocks of your orgasm. The skirt of your dress was scrunched around your waist and your ass was glistening under the streetlights from where he had drooled over it. Your thighs were in the same position they were in when he dropped them. He felt himself twitch, you were too weak to move them.
Harry couldn’t have made you cum like that. He probably would even eat you out. What a waste of a sweet cunt that would be. He could live off your pussy alone he was sure of it.
Peter rested a hand on your lower back as he stood from the bed. You glanced over at him, relieved that he was going to leave you alone. Your tears had stopped and you felt them drying on your cheeks.
When Peter pulled off his plaid shirt and the gray t-shirt under it, you wanted to scream. You wanted to get up and push him out of your apartment. He had just forcefully inflicted oral sex onto you and were terrified of where he wanted to go next.
You couldn’t help your stare on Peter’s toned body. His defined abdomen and strong arms were illuminated perfectly under the soft light. You wanted to slap yourself as you felt yourself become slightly aroused.
You managed to sit up, slowly and gently seating yourself down. You instinctively reached for your stuffed bunny. You held it to your chest as you watched Peter fiddle with his belt. “Peter,” you called quietly.
Your hair was a mess and you had faint black tracks going down your chubby face. Your lipstick was smudged. Your thick, soft arms were clinging to your bunny. The bunny he had gifted you years ago. Your dress was askew and barely covered your thighs.
“Yes, bunny?” he pulled off his belt.
“Please stop now. I’m sorry I upset you.”
He sighed and simply shook his head. “I helped you, now you need to help me.”
Helped you? You didn’t ask for his help.
“But-”
“Look at what you did, bun,” he pulled off his underwear as he tugged off his pants. His cock sprung free and slapped his stomach. It was big and long and thick, protruding veins ran up its length, leading to an angry red tip. You felt your lip wobble, you weren’t even sure if it would fit. “It hurts and only you can make it feel better. You caused this. It’s your fault that this is happening.”
You weren’t sure what to think. Was this your fault?
“Lay back for me, bunny.” he motioned to the bed. “I need gonna fuck your pretty pussy.”
You shook your head.
Peter rolled his eyes, “do what your told, stupid bunny. Don’t act like you don’t like it. Couldn’t you feel how wet you were for me?”
You stayed in place. He clenched his jaw and grabbed your ankles, pulling you until your back hit the cushion of your mattress. You tried to kick the hold of his wrists from your feet.
“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” he felt up your thigh, eyeing you in a way that made you feel self conscious. You felt like prey.
“I always like this dress,” he said, tugging it up your body. Peter pulled your bunny from your arms to pull the material over your head. “It’s my favorite one. Looks so beautiful on you.”
You reached for the bunny to cover yourself but were unable to reach it. You wrapped your arms around your tummy. Peter clicked his tongue, “no.” He leaned down to press kisses over your middle and he pried your hands away for better access. You felt tears brimming.
He pulled your bra off with ease, absentmindedly as he ran his mouth over your skin. You gasped and turned away, refusing to watch. You felt his tongue find your nipple and you hated the way it aroused you. He groaned and you felt his cock against your thighs. He kneaded your breasts as he kissed up your neck. He looked you in the eye as his cock found your cock, running up and down the slit.
“It’s gonna feel so good, bunny. You’re gonna crave my cock after. You’re gonna realize that no one is better for you than me. Fuck, you’re so warm and soft.”
His cock twitched on your pussy, causing you to inhale shakily.
Peter was so ready to be inside you. The warmth your cunt radiated made his cock ache so bad. He pushed his cock through your fold, watching as your face contorted. Your hole was pulling him in as soon as his cock head reached your entrance. It was like you were made to take him.
Your face had a pained expression painted over it and your hole contracted.
“Relax, bunny. Or it’s gonna hurt a lot more than it needs to. You were doing so well just now.”
He was too big, the further he sank into you, the more it hurt.
He couldn’t resist the involuntary thrust of his hips. You jolted up at the strength of them. As he pulled out he looked down. The sight of your loose tits, belly rolls, and puffy pussy around his cock made him feral. The red coat of blood on his pelvis made him feel a sense of accomplishment. He had you first.
He finally had you. All of you. And he deserved it all after everything he’d done.
Peter forced his way in until he bottomed out. Relishing in the way your tight pussy squeezed him. He knew it hurt from the way you had begun to cry and the way your body shook but he didn’t care. You’d adjust. Soon you’d be a stupid cockwhore. What he always wanted you to be. All for him.
“Ow,” you cried, reaching your hand up his back, seeking comfort.
“You feel so good,” he moaned.
Peter began a slow pace, pulling out just a little before sliding back in. your nails dug into his back as your head moved side to side, whines and cries leaving your lips. More and more slick came from your hole as he continued his abuse.
Soon enough his thrusts had gotten faster, harder and your thoughts were few and far between.
Fuck.
I don’t want this.
Feels so good.
Peter’s hands were all over you. Running up your sides, squeezing your soft skin, playing with your clit, and caressing your face as tears fell from your eyes.
You weren’t sure when you had begun to cry or whether it was due to pain or pleasure.
Peter moved his lips to rest on yours, kissing you in sync with his thrusts. You whined, moving your face from away, “no, stop.”
His hand that rested on your bouncing tits delivered a quick, harsh slap to your cheek. You cried out, tears falling faster. Peter pinched your cheeks, forcing your mouth open. You opened your eyes, watching as he spit into your mouth, a string of spit lingering. You clenched around him.
Peter chuckled, “you liked that. Dirty slut.”
You had stopped fighting him, too caught up in the feeling of his cock in your cunt. Peter knew you would. He knew you loved him, too.
He fit so perfectly inside you, like you were meant for him.
A string of “Hm, uh, uh's” and breathy high pitched noises fell from your lips with every thrust Peter made. The noises harmonized with the squelching sounds of your wet pussy. It was music to Peter’s ears. The prettiest noises he had ever heard.
Soon, you felt a coil in your belly. It snapped a part of you back into reality, while the other was dumb on the feel of Peters cock.
“Peter, hm, Peter, uh stop, m’gonna-”
Peter shushed you, sloppily kissing your neck, “cum for me.”
You were lightheaded, the feeling was too good. Peter suckled at your soft spot and you felt yourself cum with a high whine. Your orgasm was more intense this time. Your mind was blank as tears poured from your eyes and your body tensed. Your back arched off the mattress and you scratched down Peter’s back, holding him close.
Peter felt dizzy, you were everywhere. He could feel you everywhere and he had never felt such ecstasy. He twitched inside you as your cunt clenched around his cock deliciously.
You weren’t able to contain your moans as you cried harder, salty tears saturating the sheets beneath your head as he fucked you past your orgasm.
“I’m gonna cum inside you,” he said, voice deep with desire. The way your pussy fluttered around him became too much.
“N-no,” you shaky moved your hands down to his pelvis, pushing with all the strength your weak body could muster. “P-peter, don’t want,” black mascara-stained tears streamed down your face, your lipstick smudged up to your nose, you looked absolutely wrecked.
“I didn’t fucking ask,” his voice was near a growl, “m’gonna cum in this pretty, puffy pussy. Listen to it scream for me, pulling me back in, fluttering around me. You want this.”
You shook your head, pushing once again, you let out a choked sob as he thrusted particularly hard, “N-no.”
Peter moaned loudly, squeezing your plump waist as he stilled.
You could feel his hot, hot cum painting your walls. You felt a weight on your heart, he had coaxed multiple orgasms from you, stolen them and your innocence along with them. And now, he was inside of you. His cum had likely forced its way into your cervix, mingling with your most intimate of places.
A small part of you liked it. You tried your hardest to ignore that part of you that enjoyed being full. So full of Peter. He was the best for you, after all.
Peter thrusted a few more times, dreading the thought of leaving your tight, warm hole.
You were everything he had ever imagined. You plump body, your sugary sweet taste, your beautiful noises…
He would never let you go.
Peter gave your limp body a final kiss. You were too fucked out to react. As he pulled out of you he stared at your puffy cunt. It was wet with slick and sweat. Cum slid out of the abused hole. He took his finger and pushed it back in, loving the way you jolted and tried to close your legs.
Peter Parker loved to look at you. Even more so now, with you bare in front of him. Your skin glistening under the rays of the artificial streetlights outside your window and remnants of your innocence on his cock.
Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, abuse of power, mentions of violence, blood kink, crying kink/dacriphylia, humiliation, oral. My tags are not exhaustive, proceed at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary:Your brother is killed by rebels and you’re forced to flee the realm, but is your escape any better than staying? (Medieval AU)
‘Your homeland is in chaos. with the clothes on your back you flee to one of the neighboring kingdoms. Which place do you make your new home? King Steve, King Frank, King Tommy or King Peter ‘
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3
Love you all like Prince Charming loves mirrors. Take care.
“Your brother is dead.”
Those words echo in your head as the wagon rumbles beneath you. It’s cold, muddy, foggy; a living evocation of your grief.
