#peter parker belle’s version
bunny | peter parker !
¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !
word count: 10.9k
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
You were sixteen when you met Peter Parker.
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.
