Pretty Tutor - Peter Parker (Andrew) X Female Reader
Title: Pretty Tutor
Peter Parker (Andrew) X Female Reader
Additional Characters: May and Gwen (Mentioned)
Warnings: Angst to fluff, shy Reader, awkwardness, anxiety, fighting (verbal, nothing bad), crying, Gwen's death mentioned, awkward tension, Peter needs a hug, and fluff
Letting out a breath, you tried to shudder the anxiety away as you entered the library of your college campus. Spotting the person you had been looking for, you nervously wandered over. Stopping at his table where he was studying, you gazed over his appearance, taking in the blue shirt, dark green jacket, and dark blue jeans; everything about him screamed nerd.
His name was Peter Parker, and you had a massive crush on him since high school. You didn't think he would remember you, but it took almost four months for you to get the courage to even speak to him. You needed help with Biology, you were failing and you needed his help. You knew Peter was smart, he was practically a genius.
Clearing your throat softly, Peter looked up, making your breath hitch slightly as you gave him a small shy smile. "Uh, hi, uh may I sit?" You asked, gesturing to the chair in front of you and across from him.
Peter looked at you for a quick moment before giving you a polite smile and nodding. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead." He spoke quietly, before getting back to his work.
You slid the chair out, sitting down before him as you sat your bag on the table. You glanced at him briefly, pulling out a notebook from your bag to make it seem like you were going to work on something and weren't just there to sit there and watch him like a creep. You grabbed a red pen, opened your notebook, and wrote down gibberish and random drawings before you glanced up at him again, taking in the way his soft brown hair fell into his eyes. You swallowed thickly, averting your gaze as a flush covered your cheeks. Your heart pounded painfully in your chest. He was so handsome, even when concentrating on his studies. "Um, so, I, uh... I don't think you remember me... But I used to go to high school with you." You began, gaining the young man's attention as he looked at you curiously. "We had Mrs. Webbers and Mr. French's class together."
Peter pursed his lips in thought, tilting his head slightly, "Webber... Webber..." He muttered, thinking, "Webber... Oh. Y/N?" He asked and you nodded rapidly.
"Uh, yeah. That's me. I, uh, was wondering if you could help tutor me in Biology. I, heh, I'm failing and I don't want to drop the class. And you're smart so I was wondering if you could help me?" You asked, only to get no response, worrying you. "Uh, I can pay you for your time. I just need a little bit of help with some of the coursework and homework. I promise I'll pay you for your time and stuff like that." You ranted, glancing up at him with flushed cheeks as you regretfully continued, "I mean... You don't have to if you don't want to-"
"I'll do it." Peter interrupted you, making your eyes widen slightly.
"What?" You asked softly, "Really?"
Peter nodded, shutting his textbook. "Yeah, I'll tutor you. It's not like it's a big deal."
Your eyes lit up, "Oh, thank you!" You exclaimed, getting a harsh shush from the librarian as you ducked your head down in embarrassment before you continued, "Thank you, Peter. Uh, when are you free?"
Peter smiled softly, "I'm free after school on Fridays. Is that good for you?" He asked and you quickly nodded.
"Yeah, Friday's work for me. Where would you like to meet up?" You asked as you began to write down your number on a page from your notebook.
"Is my apartment alright? We can go to yours if not." He spoke and you nodded again.
"Yeah, your apartment works." You answered, ripping the page from the notebook and sliding it across the table. "Here's my number. Thank you again, Peter." You spoke, before grabbing your bag and rushing out of the library.
Peter grabbed the paper, smiling slightly at the small drawings and random song lyrics you had drawn and written on the page along with your number. He folded the paper and quickly pocketed it, before going back to his work. Peter remembered you from high school, remembering you to be pretty kind. He remembered that you were in a couple of clubs, even his photography club. He could even clearly remember your backpack, Y/F/C with black stripes. Peter felt pretty awkward, not knowing much about you apart from your name. Peter actually hoped that this tutoring would go by swiftly, honestly, he did not mind helping you with Biology but he felt awkward.
You climbed up the stairs of Peter's apartment building, your backpack weighing heavily on your back and shoulders as you climbed up and up. It was Friday, a little bit after school, only an hour, and the first day of tutoring. You were beyond nervous. Thinking about how you were going to be in a room with Peter and Peter alone, made you anxious. The butterflies in your stomach wouldn’t calm themselves, and it seemed they never would stop fluttering. You kicked yourself mentally, trying to calm yourself down and tell yourself how dumb it was crushing on a guy who'd never like you back.
You adjusted your bag and let out a breath before you knocked on the apartment door, standing there awkwardly as you heard footsteps on the other side. Opening the door, an older woman stood there, a small sweet yet confused smile on her face.
"May I help you, dear?" She asked as you nodded, returning the smile.
"Yes, uh, Peter's tutoring me today." You answered and the woman's eyes widened in realization before she nodded and opened the door wider, letting you in.
"Of course, I remember now, Peter told me. Come on in, dear." She spoke, shutting the door behind you, "I’m Peter’s Aunt, you can call me May." She spoke, offering you her hand to shake.
"I'm Y/N, it's nice to meet you, May." You shook her hand softly, as May's smile widened.
"Well, Peter's in his room. That boy's got to remember his manners and guests sometimes." She chuckled lightly. You said nothing as she led you to Peter's room, knocking on the door. The door opened and Peter's eyes widened when he met yours. "Peter, you forgot about your tutoring session already?" May lightly scolded, making Peter cast his gaze down sheepishly as he shrugged one shoulder.
"Sorry, May." He spoke softly as she just sighed, turning to you.
"Let me know if you need anything, dear." She spoke before she left down the hall leaving you to stand at Peter's bedroom door.
Peter cleared his throat before opening his door wider, allowing you to enter. "Sorry about the mess." He spoke up, "I, uh, forgot you were coming over." He explained, watching him as he scooted a few piles of books out of the way.
You looked around the room in awe, looking at the various posters on the wall and the polaroids on his corkboard, "It's fine. Honestly." You spoke up, "I understand."
Peter pushed more stuff off of his bed, before stuffing his hands into his sweater pockets. "Well, uh, do you want to sit at my desk or the bed?"
You glanced at each spot, biting your lip briefly, "I- I'm fine with either."
Peter nodded and sat down on his bed, and you turned to sit at his desk, setting your bag on the floor at your feet. It was silent for a moment before Peter spoke up. "So, let's do this then. What are you having trouble with?" He asked and you unzipped your bag, taking out your Biology notebook and textbook.
"Well, I am having trouble with Charles Darwin's theory of evolution." You admitted, flipping through the pages of your book until you reached the chapter you wanted.
Peter nodded slowly, leaning forward to grab the textbook you had brought out of your bag. For the next hour or so, Peter helped explain everything you had a problem with, answering your questions perfectly before even giving you a few notes of his own from the course. Tension was still high in the air, but it was a little bit easier to breathe, both of you seeming to get comfortable around one another after a while.
You slowly found yourself staring at Peter, noticing how his eyelashes flickered against his cheekbones every once in a while. Your fingers twitched ever so slightly, as though wanting to reach out and touch him, but you refrained. His eyes flickered as he looked at his textbook before he raised his head to look at you. He tilted his head, noticing your staring as you blinked your eyes and quickly looked away.
Peter pursed his lips, looking at you for a moment before looking back down at his textbook. He hadn't been dreaming, you had been staring at him, and he did catch you. Why were you staring at him? He thought to himself, furrowing his brows as he tried to figure out why you were staring at him. Did he have something on his face?
For the next month or two, you went over to Peter's apartment, learning more and more about Biology that you were almost not failing at anymore. You had grown closer to the young man, enough that you would sometimes joke around with him and have conversations outside of evolution. You felt at ease with Peter, but you could see that Peter was still acting weird around you. He'd joke around with you and laugh with you one minute but then he'd get all distant and tense a minute later. Sadly, he never got out of that... Tension until after you’d leave. You were confused. Was he alright? Have you done something wrong? Said something wrong? You'd try to bring it up sometimes but Peter would always change the subject.
You would get some clarity the next tutoring session, sitting side-by-side on Peter's bed, textbooks in your laps. The room was quiet except for Peter lecturing you about something, but you hadn't been fully paying attention. Your eyes were on him, watching as he moved his mouth and the words came out. He looked cute, really cute. You could've watched him talk forever. But you snapped out of it when he called your name.
"Y/N. Have you been listening at all?" He asked with a deep sigh and you sat up abruptly, feeling your face flush as you bit your lip.
"I- I'm sorry. I was a bit distracted." You spoke sheepishly, as Peter raised an eyebrow.
"Distracted by what? Me?" He asked, and you rapidly shook your head with wide eyes.
"No! You are just in the way while I was daydreaming. My eyes were just there." You tried to make up an excuse as Peter slightly narrowed his eyes.
"Well, would you please stop? You asked me to help you, so can you please just try and pay attention?" He snapped, causing you to frown in pain.
"Okay, okay. Sorry." You whispered, dropping your gaze to the ground and biting your lip. Silence filled the room again as you sat in silence before Peter just sighed again and snapped his textbook closed, startling you slightly.
"I think we should stop for today." He spoke and you turned to look at him.
"Wait, please, no, I'll pay attention." You pleaded as Peter shook his head.
"No, Y/N. What's the point in helping you if you won't pay attention?" Peter argued.
"Look, I think you should just go." He cut you off.
You swallowed thickly as you opened your mouth to speak, thinking maybe you could convince him, but you shut your mouth, clenching your jaw as you nodded. Getting up, you shoved your stuff in your bag and quickly left the room, feeling tears of frustration towards yourself well up in your eyes.
Peter let out a deep sigh, falling back on his bed as he rubbed his eyes. Peter knew he wasn't being fair. He didn't mean to snap at you like that, he truly regretted it and hoped you didn't take it too hard. He knew he shouldn't have gotten so angry; you didn't deserve it. He just couldn't help it.
After Gwen's death... Peter had gotten so bitter. He wasn't sure when the anger had started, only that it had. He had spent months locked up, trying to escape from his thoughts and memories of her that haunted him day and night. He fell into a depression, barely eating, hardly sleeping. He couldn't even be the Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman. There was no Spiderman without Gwen Stacy. There was no Peter Parker without Gwen Stacy.
But when Peter started tutoring you, getting to know you more than the girl who he just shared classes with in high school, Peter felt himself coming to like you. Like you, he liked Gwen. And Peter hated himself for that. Soon all he could think about was you. If you were having a good day, or what you were eating for dinner. He felt better than he had in a long, long time, but then Peter would feel as if he was abandoning Gwen. The guilt that weighed on him was horrible, and the constant feeling of grief made him feel sick.
So he was pushing you away because he feared that if he let you in, he'd lose what he had left with Gwen. Even when you were in his room with him, when he looked at you, he'd see Gwen. She was haunting him, his mind morphing your face into hers, his heart breaking all over again. So he pushed you away. As he stared at the ceiling above him, he felt his chest tighten in regret. He was such a coward. A selfish idiot.
He tried to forget the hurt he saw in your eyes, but it always crept up on him like a thief. He wished there was some way to take those feelings away, but there wasn't. Every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was you. He missed Gwen. He missed her so much. Her laugh and smile, her soft voice, her warm hugs and kisses, her loving words. Everything. Everything reminded him of Gwen, every small thing. He knew deep down Gwen would've wanted him to move on, to get over her death and stop wallowing in sorrow; to be Spider-Man again and fall in love again. But Peter was stubborn. He was a stubborn and selfish idiot. How could he let himself fall in love again?
You tried your best to avoid Peter as much as you could, even in Biology. You used to sit right at the front near Peter, but you opted to sit in the back. The rest of the school week went on without any further incidents between the two of you until the weekend finally arrived. Friday morning, you woke up early, got ready for classes, and made sure to find some food for breakfast. You went from class to class, taking a lunch break at the nearby Taco Time, before going back to your last few classes. After you got home from school, you grabbed a snack from the kitchen, grabbed your laptop from your bedroom, and settled on the couch for a little movie binge while you ate. You were halfway through your third rice krispie treat when there was a light knock at your door.
You paused, mid-crunch on your sweet treat as you heard someone knock again. You groaned softly, getting up from the couch. Walking up to the door, you looked through the peephole and sighed. You knew that slightly unkempt brown hair anywhere. Unlocking the door, you opened it slightly, looking up at Peter with a frown. He mirrored that frown, but his eyes held some sort of urgency. Why was he here?
"What are you doing here, Peter?" You asked and you guess your tone was a bit harsh because he took a step back, holding his hands up defensively.
"I need to talk to you. Can I come in?" He asked and you bit your lip before slowly stepping aside, nodding. He walked in, standing awkwardly as you closed the door behind him. "Y/N, I..." He trailed off, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the floor. You waited for him to continue, but he stayed silent. It seemed like hours passed but it was only seconded. Finally, you gave in.
"Spit it out, Peter." You said sternly, passing him to sit back down on the couch.
"I'm sorry, for snapping at you. It was... Stupid of me to get so frustrated at you." He said, glancing at you, "Can you forgive me?" He added quietly and your heart twisted at the sight of Peter looking so dejected. You were tempted to tell him that yes, of course, you forgave him, but you hesitated, biting your lip.
"I don't know, Peter..." You began, "I would like an explanation."
Peter took his chance to take a seat on the couch beside you, giving you enough room so you were comfortable. He sat there, fiddling with his hands in his lap as he stared down at your carpet.
"It's complicated." He began, "I don't really know where to start." He stated, avoiding eye contact. You frowned deeply. "I, uh, kind of... Like you." He finally admitted, glancing up at you nervously as you looked up at him.
"Oh, um," You replied lamely and suddenly you felt a lot less confident, "Like, like how, exactly?" You questioned, feeling awkward and shy, as Peter glanced at you once more.
"You're just... Really pretty." He muttered with a small anxious smile. You blushed heavily and ducked your head, looking away.
"You too, but," You began, glancing up at him confused, "What's that got to do with anything?" You asked with a hint of exasperation.
"Nothing... Uh, yeah nothing." Peter quickly stuttered out, and you raised an eyebrow, even more so confused now than ever.
"Then... Why would you bring that up at all then?" You asked and Peter pursed his lips, mentally hitting himself. "If it doesn't have to do with why you were so..." You trailed off, trying to think of the right word, "Harsh?"
Peter let out a shaky breath, staring intently at his fingers as he twitched and flexed them repeatedly.
"Well, it is complicated." He mumbled once more.
"So explain it to me, then!" You exclaimed, annoyed, and Peter looked at you with wide eyes, "If you want to tell me, tell me. But please don't go around the mulberry bush and just cut to the chase, please." You felt your eyes well up with frustrated tears.
"I shouldn't like you." Peter suddenly spoke, confusing the heck out of you.
You furrowed your eyebrows, your brain feeling like it was overheating as you tried to think, "Shouldn't like me? Why?"
Peter just whispered, "It's not fair to her."
"Her? Who?" You asked, as a million questions ran through your mind.
"... Gwen..." Peter answered simply, still not making direct eye contact with you.
You raked through your brain, repeating the name softly as you did so, "Gwen... Gwen..." And then... It came to you. And you frowned deeply. "Oh."
You knew Gwen briefly in high school. You knew Peter and Gwen were friends or a couple at one point, but you hadn't thought about her in years. You remembered her to be a sweet and nice girl, even though she was popular, she wasn't mean to anyone, which was nice. You shared Math with her. You remembered when you heard that she died, it was heartbreaking, someone so young losing the rest of their life. She didn't deserve to die.
"I loved her," Peter spoke up, looking at you almost pleadingly. You blinked, surprised by his admission. "She meant everything to me. Everything." You didn't speak, knowing he needed to let it all out. "I feel guilty, Y/N. Guilty that I couldn't save her." Peter said in a broken tone and you reached forward, grasping one of his hands and squeezing it gently, trying to offer some comfort. He squeezed back, his grip tightening on your hand. "She was my first kiss, my first girlfriend. My first love." He continued, "And I feel guilty for liking you the way I do. I feel like I am abandoning her." He finished, letting go of your hand and burying his face in his hands.
You pushed your excitement to the back of your mind before you spoke, "That's not true," You murmured softly, rubbing circles on his back, trying to calm him down, "I think Gwen would want you to be happy."
Peter pursed his lips, before looking up at you, tears in his eyes, "I miss her so much," He confessed, "I can't stop thinking about her."
"I'm sorry, Peter," You began, "I wish there was something I could do."
Peter bit his bottom lip, glancing at you, "Could you... Could you hold me?" He asked, "Please."
You nodded, pulling Peter into your arms as he wrapped his own around your torso, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Peter gripped the back of your shirt tightly, clinging to you as if his life depended on it. You let him cry for as long as he needed to. Your heart broke for him. You had never seen him look so vulnerable and hopeless, he was practically sobbing, his breaths ragged. You rubbed comforting circles on his back as he let out the emotions he had bottled up inside. You wished you could do something for him, you wished you could take away his pain. And the thought of Peter having feelings for you made your heart skip, but you wouldn't push Peter. You loved Peter very much, but you respected him too much to make any moves without him being ready. Besides, you wanted to give him time to heal from his loss. You were content just being Peter's friend, him being in your life in general was already more than enough.
As Peter pulled away, you wiped away the tears on his cheeks with the soft pads of your thumbs, Peter's hands wrapping gently around your wrists, holding your hands there. He shut his eyes, taking in deep breaths as he steadied himself. Once he seemed composed again, you smiled softly at him, offering him a reassuring grin.
"There we go." You said softly, stroking his cheek. He smiled weakly at you, looking down.
"Thank you." He said.
"Of course." You replied simply and he moved to sit beside you on the couch, turning to look at you. You followed suit and turned your body to face him.
"Y/N..." He began, clearing his throat, "I'd like to... To take you out sometime. On a date." He continued to confess and you smiled up at him sadly.
"Peter, I'd love to, but I don't want to push or rush you. If you want to wait to see if you'll ever be ready or not-"
"No, I'd also like to apologize for being a real jerk to you," Peter told you and you sighed.
"I won't pressure you into doing anything you aren't ready for." You assured him, "You don't have to take me out on a date to apologize. It's okay."
"No, no, it isn't," He insisted, "I want to ask you. I do. So if you don't want to go, you don't have to. But... I wanna take you on a date. I really, really like you, Y/N."
You felt your lips curl upwards slightly, your cheeks warming at the confession. You weren't sure what to say; this was the most genuine, honest, heartfelt thing Peter has ever said to you. You wanted to say yes.
"How about this," You spoke up, taking his large hands in yours, "We continue the tutoring until I am passing, and at the end of the semester, you can ask me again. How does that sound?"
He smiled widely, relief filling his features. "That sounds amazing," He replied, squeezing your hands.
"Cool." You replied, smiling.
"Cool." He mimicked making you laugh lightly
"So," You began, feeling your face flush, "Since you're already here, and it's Friday... Do you want to help me study?"
Peter let out a small chuckle, running his fingers through his hair, "Uh, I didn't bring my backpack."
You waved a hand dismissively, "It's fine, I was going to binge something anyway. Want to join me for a movie then? I make the best popcorn." You offered.
Peter just simply nodded, watching you fondly as you gave him a smile and did a fist-pump, before hopping off the other couch and moving to the kitchen. Peter sat back on the couch, feeling a bit better. He wasn't entirely over Gwen yet, and he didn't think he ever would be, but with you there beside him, he wasn't alone anymore. He could finally let himself be happy, it's what Gwen would've wanted. And with that thought, he smiled warmly.
Yeah, maybe things will get better.
PAPARAZZI- P.B PARKER
Pairing: Dark! Perv! Peter x Innocent! Fem! Reader
Word Count: 9.3k
Summary: as the outgoing, spontaneous cheerleader of the school, you arent too familiar with quieter people, such as peter parker. he sure is familiar with you though. soon, the photos and obsessions give him the courage to talk to you, which leads into his darker desires coming true.
WARNING. THIS CONTAINS DARKER CONTENT, SUCH AS STALKING AND MANIUPLATION. READ WITH CAUTION.
Warnings: SMUT, stalking, public masturbation, stealing of panties, masturbation with panties, booze and drugs mentioned, swearing, maniplation/ slight gaslighting, pet names, heavy praise kink, size kink, daddy kink, overstimulation, corruption/ innocent kink, teasing/ playing with reader through panties, panties used as gag, mocking, taking pictures of reader while asleep, mentions of diff sex postitions, spanking, plugs and collars, mirror sex etc
“i'm your biggest fan, i'll follow you until you love me- papa-paparazzi
baby, there's no other superstar, you know that i'll be...
your papa-paparazzi” - paparazzi, lady gaga
One of the first words you had ever said to Peter Parker had been a lie.
A white one, something small and one that you had believed.
But not him.
He knew it was a lie that had slipped from your lips, clear as day as he snapped the photo with his Nikon. I’m not very photogenic.��
Those were the words of warning you gave him as he asked for a photo of you for the yearbook, a shy smile blooming across your face as he insisted.
No one is ever un-photogenic. It's the photographer that can make it that way. he had reassured, flexing his bicep as he ran his fingers nervously through his hair.
Those weren't the words he wanted to say, but they’d have to do. What he really wanted to say, the truthful answer was probably not something your innocent, soft persona was ready to hear yet.
You are the most captivating person I’ve ever seen, and I look at your beautiful body any chance I can get without seeming like a full-on weirdo, imagining what you look like under those clothes. So yes, you are photogenic. Very, very photogenic.
That would have to wait until a much later date, when you knew him better. When you would understand how photogenic you were, because he’d make you understand.
“Peter?” you asked shyly, drawing his attention back to the present moment, breaking him from his trance about how your legs would look slung across his shoulders as he pounded into you.
You knew his name. God, wait until you were moaning it.
“Yea, yea sorry, just got distracted.” he smiled, making you giggle as he brought the camera up to face, eyes staring you down through the viewfinder as he snapped the picture of you smiling by the football field.
A cheerleader in her natural element.
“Thanks Y/N.” he nodded, turning to walk off, to stalk you from the bleachers- as he always did. But you stopped him, your gentle voice captivating him as you asked the most mindboggling question he had ever heard.
“You, you know my name?” you asked shyly, and he fought the urge to keep his jaw from dropping to the floor, to have his eyes boggle out of his head like a cartoon character.
Of course, he knew your name. Every person in Queens knew your name, the shining star.
“Course.” he shrugged, watching as you fidgeted with the hem of your short little cheer skirt, the one he imagined flipping up so many times as he’d pound into you from behind in the changeroom, holding your head up by your hair so you could see how beautiful you looked drunk on his cock in the mirror.
“Oh! Hey, you're in my chemistry arent you? Mr. Johnson's class?”
He died. He had died, and gone to heaven.
“Y-yeah. I sit-”
“At the back of the class. Back right corner.” you smiled, head whipping back as you heard your friends from the squad call your name, waving you over to the center field. You laughed at his reaction, the pure look of amazement in his eyes as he stared at you, his face in shock.
“I’ll see you around, ‘k Parker? Let me know if you need more pictures.” you waved, your hair flipping behind your shoulder as you trotted off to their beck and calls.
He somehow urged his legs to move, although he wanted nothing more than to remain frozen to the spot, the sweet smell of your perfume and shampoo lingering in the air from your close proximity making him hazy and irrational.
Let me know if you need more photos.
He bit his lip, knawing on it with his teeth as he made his way back over behind the bleachers, a spot he often occupied. It was perfect for a photographer, a spot where he could see everything and anyone, but no one could see him.
You were a sweetheart to offer that up to him, but there was one thing you didn't fully know.
He already took advantage of that offer, much before you said anything about it.
Peter had photos of you everywhere.
And by everywhere, he meant everywhere.
Photos of you pinned up on the walls in his room. Photos of you he taped in his physics notebook, his math binders, even a photo of you in his wallet.
They were all candids of course, as he’d often spend his time taking pictures of you when you were clueless. Those were always the best ones though, where you'd look so innocent and carefree in those little skirts and knee-high socks, a soft smile always on your face.
You were a sweet, innocent little ray of sunshine. One he wanted to corrupt.
And he knew, deep down it was wrong, oh so very wrong. But how could he not think of you that way? It was impossible to keep those thoughts at bay, thoughts of all the ways he would ruin you, making you beg on your knees for him.
For any part of him, for him to do anything to you. You would be so easy that way, so moldable in his hands.
The sound of your gentle laughter sent his gaze towards your body once more, a lion stalking a lamb as he took in your legs hungrily, currently spread into the splits as you stretched.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, the way he would ruin you. You’d look so pretty with his cum dripping put your quivering cunt, his fingers smearing it across your thighs. He’d cum on your stomach and feed it to you, or he’d finish across your face- and you’d take it like a good girl.
He groaned softly, palming himself through his jeans, the fabric suddenly tight and uncomfortable as he watched you.
Pictures weren't enough today. Pictures weren't nearly enough, with the way your skin gleaned in the afternoon sun, your pink little cotton panties peaking at him as you bent down to finish your stretching, still talking to one of your friends about helping out at the animal shelter later this week.
God, you were so perfect. So sweet, and gentle.. and well, his.
At least in Peter's mind.
Before he could fully comprehend what he was doing, need took over as he quickly unzipped his jeans, pulling out his hardened cock, throbbing and gleaming with precum. He moaned as he pumped himself tp the sight of you, imagining all the places he would take you- whether you liked it or not.
In his bed. Over the counters. On his desk. In the chemistry labs. Hell, even here, under the bleachers where he stood, currently jerking himself off like you were a live playboy magazine.
Head thrown back in pleasure, he bit his lip down hard enough to taste the coppery, sweet tang of blood. It was only when he heard the whistle and the sound of the coach's voice he realized exactly what he was doing.
This was wrong. This was very wrong. Fuck Parker, you’re acting like a fucking virgin. Can't even keep it in your pants until you get home?
Not with you, he couldn't. But he really had no option, knowing so many people would be with you. Didn’t mean he couldn't snap a few more pictures though.
One or two wouldn't hurt, right?
After zipping his jeans back up, he quickly grabbed his camera, positioning it so he could see you perfectly. Your hair shimmered in the sun, a little halo placed around your frame as you looked to your friend.
He didn’t know if he wanted to braid it for you after a long, hot shower, or if he wanted to tug on it so hard you cried. After a few pictures, many including your thighs in that short little skirt he adored, he hurried out from his hiding spot, back onto the gravel path.
He was in a rush not because he was worried he’d run into you again.
Oh, that’d be the dream.
He was rushing because there was an entire corkboard that waited for him in his room, filled to the brim with pictures of you. And it was either he came in his pants to the sound of your voice, or too many, many photos of you.
Peter would take the safe option.
For now- at least.
Your mellow voice rang out, clear as windchimes on a breezy summer's day- snapping him up from his thoughts. Of you, again.
He looked up from his notes, ones that he hadn't really been reading, but ones he had been mindlessly glancing at so Mr. Johnson wouldn't demand to know why he’d be staring off into space.
He couldn't really say “Sorry Mr. Johnson, I was just daydreaming about using a vibrator on Y/N until she started crying, begging and drooling because I made her into an incoherent mess!”
That would not slide with him. The bell was about to ring, and he wasn't expecting you to show up as a pre-class gift. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn't happy about it.
Very, very happy.
“Y/N hey! What's up?”
He wanted to smack himself in the face. What's up?! You really just said what's up?!
“Nothing much... Um- I was just wondering something.”
Your fingers were wrapped around your arm, rubbing it up and down as you fidgeted in lace with your feet. You were nervous.
“What were you wondering?” he murmured, and he’d be damned if he said he didnt find your shyness towards him adorable. Everything you did was adorable.
“You can totally say no if you want, I don't want you to feel like you have to or anything-”
“Hey. Breathe. Just tell me.” he smiled softly, urging you to take a deep breath, and start from the beginning. The heat rising to your cheeks was making you fidget even more, feeling as if he could sense it from miles away.
But you had to spit it out. If you didnt, you’d never hear the end of it from your nagging thoughts that liked to plague you wherever you went.
“I overheard Mr. Johnson telling Mrs. Marly that we’re doing a lab later this week. He’ll probably go over it today, I just wanted to ask.. would you be my partner? You’re really, really smart. And I wanted to get to know you better.” you gushed, words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them.
Peter wanted to pinch himself. He wanted to slap himself silly, because there is no way in hell you just asked him that.
Was he dreaming? He was definitely dreaming.
“Peter?” His shock kept him from saying exactly what he wanted to say right away. “Like I said, you don't have too, I can ask someon-”
“Yes. Of course I’ll be your partner.” he nodded, cheeks turning pink as the skirt you had on today, the soft, pastel pink just aching for his fingers to run across the seams, to flip it up to expose yourself to him.
You rubbed your lips together, lipgloss shimmering as the morning sun shown through the windows, the bell ringing profusely like an alarm for the sun to break from the clouds.
It was strawberry lipgloss. He watched you put it on at your locker this morning, and he wanted nothing more than to taste it.
“Oh, thank you so much! If you brainstorm anything in class today, slip it in my gym locker. I have cheer practice after school, but all the girls are normally out of the change room by 2:45. If no one sees you go in there, you should be fine.” you giggled, watching as students began to sit down in their seats, Mr. Johnson finalizing his notes for the class as he started to write out the date at the top of the whiteboard.
“May I?” you asked, pointing at his pen that was scattered with his papers across his desk. Peter nodded, and you picked up the pen, leaning over towards him as you scribbled your locker number and combination across the blank sheet of paper he had pulled out before you had showed up.
He tried so hard not to look, he really did. But when you were leaned over, your shirt exposing the tops of your breasts so close to him- it was impossible not to peek. They looked so pretty and perky, your little gold necklace swinging in front of him, tempting him.
He wanted nothing more than to mark them up, to suck on your nipples until you were so flustered you couldn't do anything but moan his name, and tug at his hair.
The honeyed smell of your perfume was gripping him by the throat, clouding his senses and making his head go fuzzy.
He wanted you so bad it hurt.
“ See ya round.” you whispered, setting his pen down as you gave him a little wink, scurrying back to your seat on the other side of the room.
Oh, he’d be seeing you alright. He’d be seeing you a whole lot.
Mr. Johnson's voice was tuned out as his brain turned the sound off like a radio dial, as he was only focused on you. Peter looked down at the little heart you had left next to your elegant scribbles of writing, the numbers slightly tilted on an angle, loopy numbers filling the left hand corner of his page.
He had never seen anyone write like that, and he adored it. What he adored even more though, was that you had left an extra set of numbers for him.
Your phone number.
He couldn't help but glance over at you, head down in your notes as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, listening to the teacher as if he were a preacher in a cult.
You were so pretty when you were focused.
Peter knew he probably shouldn't be on his phone, especially because he knew Mr. Johnson was about to start talking about the labs you had overheard earlier that day, but he didn't care. He already spent all his classes daydreaming about you, especially this class- so what would it hurt?
His thumbs flew across the keyboard under the desk, hitting send before he could re-think his decision.
Unknown Number: So… you come here often?
You looked down at your phone, fidgeting with the pink, sparkly case with a smile. It was Peter. Your heart pounded in your chest at the text, the sheer dorkiness of it making you want to giggle.
He was charming, a little shy and quiet. But that's what made you gravitate towards him, his mellow aura inviting, yet mysterious.
You liked it. You liked it a whole lot.
You: Sadly… yes. You?
Peter: I tend to show up when the girl I want to show up does. I have nothing to look at when she's not.
You smiled, cheeks heating (as they typically did) when he was involved. You had a school girl crush on him, and he’d be blind as a bat if he didnt see it from miles away. Kilometers. Especially with those glasses he always wore, which he always adjusted on his pretty nose.
You: What's this mystery girls name?
Peter: Bunny. And Bunny is now going to be good and pay attention to the lecture, cause she has a thesis she needs to think about.
You tugged on your lower, glossy lip with your teeth, the slight pain a delicious distraction from what was happening between your leg as you clenched them together tightly.
The sound of your foot lightly tapping the tile was nearly as fast as the professor's words as he spewed them out at lightning speed, causing your notes to be frantic and rushed.
The last thing you wanted was to not have any material to give back to Peter during this project. You had your fair share of partners who did nothing in group assignments, and it made your blood boil.
The fact Peter was nice enough to even let you work with him was beyond kind already- the last thing you wanted to be was unprepared. Before you knew it, the bell had rang, its shrill noise breaking the silence and tension so thick in the air you could cut it with a knife.
It made you jump, heartbeat racing as you quickly packed up your things, his rambling no longer making sense in your mind as he yelled out the homework for this weekend to the kids already scurrying down the hall.
“Have fun at cheer tonight bunny.” the soft voice called, words tickling the shell of your ear as Peter's hand touched your lower back, his skin brushing yours as he scooted by you to head towards the door.
“Thanks.” was all you could squeak out, watching as he sent a little smile and wave your way, long stride carrying him down the halls as he propped his earbuds in to tune out the rest of the world.
Something you think you wanted to do with him sometime.
Peter felt like a pervert. An absolute, full-on pervert.
There is a system set in place for perverted things, one that he had created in his head. Level one was taking pictures of you, level two being jerking off to those said pictures. Level three was jerking off to you, in person- without your awareness.
But this, this broke the scale. At least in his books.
This was something typical movie perverts would do, something the audience would watch, perhaps maybe cover their children's eyes while they gawked. He stood at the entrance to the girls change room, the only sound preoccupying the space the humming of the janitor out of view down the hall, and the buzz of the fluorescences.
No one lingered among the lockers, he had made sure of that. It was 2:50pm, and he was still chicken shit.
Peter Parker was scared.
Not scared of you walking in, or anyone else really for that matter. You had granted him permission after all, and it's not like anyone was stripping down currently.
He was scared of himself. Of his own urges.
Finally, he’d be in your personal space. Your personal, personal space. He knew it was wrong to rummage through your stuff, but the thought of your undergarments being so close to him, and quite literally his for the taking made him horny.
Hornier than he had been all damn day, which was saying a lot.
Horny enough to have yet again, irrational decisions cloud his judgement, making him storm into the locker room like a man on a mission. Skimming over the numbers, he finally found yours, lighting up like he had won the jackpot.
Memorizing the combination you had written down for him, he unlocked your locker, the metal creaking slightly as he pried it open.
It was so… you. So, so very you.
Innocent and soft, little pictures of you and your friends put up with pink washi tape, your cheer schedule scribbled with dates and hearts. He smiled at the Hello Kitty stickers you placed near the back as he slid the papers in your bag, making a mental note to bring that up in a conversation later.
It was when the papers were fully tucked away did he realize what he was touching.
His mouth went dry, palms beginning to sweat as his fingers wrapped around the flimsy fabric, tugging it out into view.
The scrap of the pink lace thong was enough to have him keening, and he brought his nose to it, inhaling deeply. It smelt sweet, the wet patch you had left still staining the undergarment.
The fact you had worn this all day, when you had talked to him in class, when you had rubbed your thighs together eagerly…
“Fuck.” he murmured gently, bringing the pink fabric down to the very prominent bulge in his jeans, rubbing it against his oner with a sigh. His party was soon crashed though, the sound of voices growing louder as they entered the changeroom.
Shutting the locker as quickly (and as quietly) as he possibly could, he darted out of sight behind another row, praying to every god in the universe no one would come this way.
“Yea, Y/N told me she was going to Daryl's party tomorrow night. She’s supposed to help me pick out what to wear.” a light, cheery voice called from in front of him, the sound of the locker opening make his heart drop as another set of footsteps followed behind the mystery person.
Daryl? As in Daryl Whites? This was a very, very bad idea for you.
Peter had noticed the way Daryl had been eyeing you up lately, like you were a piece of fresh meat at the butcher's. He’d be dammed if he let you anywhere near that scumbag.
“What do think she’ll wear though?” another voice replied, the sound of a water bottle being squeezed filling the air as the locker clanged shut again.
“Hopefully something slutty. I can't be the only whore at this party! I swear sometimes-” The voices muddled out as they exited the changeroom, the door swinging shut behind them as the coach's whistle blew.
Peter let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the soft whoosh of air a sigh of relief. Slipping the panties in his back pocket, he made his way out of the changeroom, to go mentally prepare himself.
It now appeared he had a party to go to tomorrow night.
“Oh goddd-” he gritted out between clenched teeth, the lacey thong rubbing across his hardened cock making it harder and harder to keep a grip of sanity in the present moment.
Jerking himself off with your underwear was his new favorite thing, the dozens of photos of you looking over at him a sweet touch. He couldn't stop thinking of you, when he was making dinner, when he was in the shower, when he was doing laundry.
It was always, always you.
It was only in these sweet moments, in the haven of his bedroom could act on these sinful thoughts, when everyone was asleep.
Because he was loud. But how was he supposed to stay quiet, when all he could think about was fucking you senseless?
You’d be so good for him. So eager to please. He had never heard you say no to anything or anyone a day in your life. Maybe it was wrong of him, but he wanted to use that to his advantage.
You were such a quiet, innocent thing and Peter wanted to corrupt you. He wanted to ruin you. Until all you could think about was his cock, his touch, his taste. The taste of his lips, the taste of his cum down your throat mixed with your tears and salvia as he used you like the pretty little fleshlight you were.
He’d have to train you first of course, using his fingers so slowly coax you open- get you used to him. Peter wasn't that cruel. But he couldn't wait to be cruel when you’d tease him, and he’d have to teach you a lesson. When he’d happily listen to the sound of your bell jingle from the collar he’d put on you as he’d drap you acros his knee, your body jolting with each spank.
Your cries would sound so pretty as he’d play with the tail in your ass between the spakings.
The thought of you sprawled out across his lap and crying sent him over the edge, head lolling back as he finished with a moan. His cum coated your panties, already stained from the previous night.
He knew the logical thing was to wash it and slip it back into your locker when you weren't present, but at the same time- he didn't want to.
Yes, he’d give them back, but he wanted you to wear them with the gentle reminder of him. Slipping those panties up over those beautiful legs of yours, just to have his dried cum used as a pillow for your cunt drove him insane.
So did the thought of seeing you tomorrow night, in a little party outfit. He felt like those girls in the changeroom wondering what you'd be wearing to the get-together, except he was thinking about it for a totally different reason.
How easy it’d be to get you out of it.
With a sigh, he stared out the window from his room to the city sprawled outside, at the twinkling lights and people milling on the avenue. This city never slept, and neither did he.
Daryl's house was only a few blocks down from his apartment, his family lucky enough to snag a townhouse in the bustling streets of Queens.
Peter hated parties, he was much more content to stay in his room and work on new inventions, or to smoke a blunt and read a book on the fire escape that so happened to conveniently be outside his window.
But if you were going, he needed to be there. To make sure you would be okay, or at least that's what he kept telling himself.
Not because he was borderline obsessed with you and needed to be in your presence nearly all the time because you were a drug he was addicted to, a feeling he could never shake from his bones. When you were too drunk to function, or high out of your mind he’d take you home.
Home- to his apartment, because you’d be in no condition to go back to your place, your father would throw a fit once he found out what his perfect little angel had really done.
He’d take care of you, keeping you warm and safe as you’d fight a stupid hangover.
Everything would go according to plan. He was sure of it.
Everything did not go according to plan.
You would go to the party with Macey and Jessica, have an amazing time, drink to the point you were a little drunk, and go home.
That was the plan.
You would play games like beer pong with Daryl, despite not really liking him, but you'd have to be a good guest. But instead, you were very, very sober. In someones bedroom, on the verge of crying.
You didn’t really want to come here.
You knew you would regret it the second you stepped foot in the door, but you came anyways for your friends sake.
It will be so much fun! they had insisted as they fixed up your mascara in the vanity mirror an hour prior. Yeah. So much fun my ASS.
You didn't know whose room you were in, but it surely couldn't be Daryls. It was much to clean for that, too prim and proper. A guest bedroom then. A perfect bedroom for you- his guest, to sit in and hold back tears, being too overstimulated and anxious to actually enjoy yourself.
Picking at your dress, the skin-tight baby blue fabric making you feel claustrophobic, you listened to the muffled sound of some shitty pop song, the bass loud enough to rattle the floorboards under your feet.
You thought of Peter as you peered over into the full body mirror, taking in your body as you watched the tears fall. You wondered what he was doing, if he was having a better time than you were.
God you hoped so.
Peter would be able to brighten your mood, as he often did without even realizing it. You wished he were here. But this place, this “party” wasn't a scene for the man you had taken interest in over these past few weeks. He seemed like the type to hate this environment, as much as you secretly did.
So why the hell was he standing in the doorway, his messy hair poking out at you as he creaked it open slowly?
“Peter?” was all you could let out, in a state of shock that your prayers had been answered. Wiping the stray tears away with a sniffle, you stood as he made his way in the room, closing the door firmly behind him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Are you okay?” he asked, ignoring your curiosity as he walked over to you slowly, worry etched on his face as clear as day. You swallowed, fighting the urge not to break out in a sobbing fit.
No, I’m not okay. I want to go home. So badly.
“I’m fine. Just.. needed a break from the crowds I guess.” you murmured, watching as he sat down next to you on the bed, patting the spot where you previously sat, bedsheets ruffled. “This not really your scene?” he asked, in which you only responded with a nod, your teeth seeming stuck to your lower lip as you bit down.
“Yea me either. I don't really know how it's anyone scene to be honest. It's just a lot of loud guys sloshing beer over everyone and terrible music that makes my ears bleed.”
You laughed at this, warmth blooming in yur chest as he smiled. “Like seriously. I’m not a medical professional, but something is definitely wrong with my ears after hearing that shitty ass song that's been looped like- three times already. You can probably see blood.” he joked, hand snaking over to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, your gaze meeting his pitiful one as he smiled gently.
He looked so pretty tonight, in that blue shirt you always adored. It brought out the colour of his eyes, which looked so pretty with the glasses he wore.
He always looked so pretty. Pretty eyes, pretty hair, pretty muscles that seemed to strain behind the fabric. Pretty fingers and arm veins that you could see so clearly as he slid your hair out of your face, so he could see you better.
“No blood... yet. I can't promise that later on though.” you teased, fighting the urge not to fall into this man's lap and curl up like a kitten, bawling your eyes out because of how overstimulated you were from the party down below.
Peter must have sensed this, this tidal wave of anxiety that was desperately trying to be freed from the dam you had built up. Giving your hand a reassuring squeeze, he sighed.
As if he were tired of this too.
“Do you want to get out of here?” he murmured tenderly, making your heart race. You had heard those words from many guys before, drunk and trying to get in your pants. You had always politely declined, having no interest in “getting out of there”.
But with Peter, it was gentle.
He was worried for you, and wanted to make sure you were safe. Comfortable. He wanted to get you out of this place he knew you hated, to sweep in and be your prince charming.
And you gladly let him.
“Please. I’ll text my friends I’ve headed out when we can somehow find a way out of that maze of people.”
“Let's get out of this jungle, Indiana Jones.”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding once you and Peter managed to find yourselves on the empty sidewalks, the music now just a dull hum under the fluorescent street lights.
It was like swimming against the tide filtering through the lingering bodies of the crowd, everyone too drunk to understand you were trying to leave the party, not stay in it.
The smell of beer and cheap booze was now gone, the air clear enough you didn't see smoke floating in it as you walked with Peter.
You didn’t really know where you were going. You just wanted out.
You couldn't go home, as you told your parents you were staying over at Mindy's house for the night. They were too lost in arguing or drinking to really bother calling her parents to make sure you stayed there.
So you mindlessly walked the streets of Queens with Peter, listening to nothing but the pounds of sirens wail and traffic speed by, and your heels clicking on the pavement below. They didn’t seem to do much next to Peter, as he continued to tower over you.
You felt like a kid next to him with how.. well- large he was. He wasn't “jacked” by any means, but he had muscles. A solid weight to him, and height too.
It was this observation that got you asking a question you had always secretly wanted to ask, the emptiness of the streets giving you the confidence to speak it.
“Why don't you play basketball Peter? You have a really nice build for it. Like.. really nice. You’d be amazing on the team.” He looked over at you, eyebrow raised in amusement. “Are you flirting with me bunny?”
You looked away, wanting nothing more than to hide in an alleyway, and spend the rest of your days there. You got so flustered around Peter.
“N-no. I mean yes! I don't know.” you stuttered, making matters worse for yourself. He seemed to think it was cute though, laughing as he nudged your arm with his own.
“You have a really nice build too bunny. Especially tonight. I was meaning to tell you earlier, but ya know- timing. You look really pretty.”
Well if that didn’t make your heart flutter like a hummingbird.
“And to answer your question, I don't play basketball because it's not interesting to me. I have other things to occupy my time with.”
“Like photography?” you asked eagerly, genuinely curious. He smiled. “Like photography. And science, I like building things in my spare time.”
And I like thinking of you. All the time. And taking pictures of you, and admiring those photos as hobby, because I am so in love with you, and you don't even realize it. But no, just photography and science. Of course.
“That's so cool! I’ve always wanted to make a robot or something interesting.” you gushed, more and more drawn to this man by the minute.
You felt his hand slip down to rest on your lower back, touch comforting as the chill night's breeze slithered through the air, coiling around the hairs on your arms like snakes.
He was warm, his body smelling like cinnamon and fresh coffee grounds. You liked it. You liked it so much you barely realized as he guided you up the steps, leading to double doors to an apartment complex, one you knew he had been in so many times before.
He punched in a keycode like it was second nature, never breaking eye contact as he watched your lips move, not really hearing the words that came out of them.
You couldn't care less where he was taking you, too entranced with Peter to pay any mind. He could be leading you down to the seventh pit of hell for all you knew, and you wouldn't give a shit.
As long as he was there, doing that little nose scrunch he did when he was concentrated, or running his fingers through his hair, just to have it fall in his face a meer seconds later, you'd stay.
You'd do anything he asked of you.
And he knew this, and he’d be damned if he didn’t pull the strings a little bit. You were so easy, a glass puppet he could use, and play with.
His puppet. His toy.
“My aunts gone for the weekend, so I figured you’d be okay with staying here for a bit.” he said, shutting the door behind him, watching as you surveyed the quant space.
The sound of the deadbolt clicking into place made you flinch, breaking the pattern of your steady breathing. You looked over at him, a sly grin on his face as he let the chain slide into place, flicking on more light to illuminate the space.
It was adorable here.
Little knick-knacks scattered across the bookshelves filled to the brim with old hardcovers, houseplants and vines overspilling the space. It looked like Peter and his family actually lived here.
They had made it a home, and had made it their own, unlike the other people you knew- who looked like they lived in an IKEA showroom.
You smiled as you slid off your shoes, little frilly socks a soft cushion against the old hardwood as you padded over to a framed photo of a woman no later than her late thirties with a younger, smiling Peter.
“That's my aunt.” he nodded at the frame, making his way over to the kitchen, tossing the keys up on the island, watching you intently.
“She's beautiful.” you exclaimed setting the frame back down as you followed Peter over to the couch. His arm slung around the back cushions, resting there almost as if it were an invitation. He drummed his fingers to the silent song that played through the speakers of his mind, brushing against your shoulder softly as you sat down beside him.
You made no move to shy away from him, despite your inner monologue screaming at you to run under his bed and hide like a frightened little child because you felt your brain turning to mush the closer you sat to him, the more you inhaled his comforting scent that had you seeing double.
“What.. um what should we do?” you squeaked out, his gaze cool and collected, despite the reply that ran through his head like a script.
We should fuck. And I mean fuck. Doggy, but in a mirror so I can see your pretty face when you cum, and you can see how well we go together, how well you take me despite being a tight lil thing. Maybe I can stuff your- now my panties in your mouth for good measure.
“Whatever you want to do, bunny.” he raised his eyebrows, making you strum your fingers against your lower lip in thought.
“Hmm. That's a lot of responsibility, I don't think I can handle that.” you giggled, hand coming down to adjust your dress as your legs tucked neatly underneath you. To prevent him from seeing what he really wanted to see, but little did you know he’d already seen it.
“Too much responsibility for your lil brain hm? Need me to make decisions?” he teased, making you gulp, his words affected you more then they should have.
He was teasing, a little joke about how indecisive you were. You were extremely, and everyone knew it.
So why did you feel a wetness pool into your panties at the words that slipped out as smooth and sweet as honey, your thighs clenching as he smirked at you?
A nod was all you could muster, fueling the fire behind his eyes even more, adding wood to the embers. “Not really good at making decisions.” you confessed, shuffling in your seat.
It was hot in here. Like really, really hot. Unnessicalarly hot.
Sweat clung to you like dew drops as your breath quickened, his presence so near it made you feel sick. In the best way possible. Peter made you feel like a frightened little lamb, grazing in a little meadow filled with little wildflowers and butterflies- leading you into a slaughterhouse.
That slaughterhouse was filled with your desires, your wants and needs that you had suppressed and pushed down for so long because you were scared.
Despite what some people thought you were inexperienced.
You barely ever touched yourself, and had never let anyone else touch you like that. So yes, you were frightened. You were vulnerable, because Peter had opened up these urges again. Had sprung the cap free from the bottle, your innocence leaking free.
“Wha- what are you doing?” you whispered, voice as quiet as a mouse's footsteps as you felt his hand creep down to rush against your bare thigh, goosebumps rising in his wake.
“Making the decision for you.” he smiled softly, though his eyes were nothing but soft. They were hungry.
“What decision?” you gulped, tempted to close your thighs around his fingers that gripped your flesh, soft and delicate.
It felt good. It felt so, so good and he had barely even touched you. But this was your first time actually hanging out, and this was wrong.
This was my first time hanging out with her and I was taking advantage of her. Because she was so easy to manipulate. Because she was just so, so sweet and good.
His hand pried your legs apart ever so slightly, a little whimper escaping your lips that you prayed would get past him.
It didn’t though, of course. Nothing ever did.
A soft, gentle noise spurred him on, his knuckles running up and down the eighth of your thigh, his touch warm against your skin.
“The one you were too scared to make. The one you want, deep down, that your baby brain can't comprehend.”
Your eyes widened, hand grabbing his wrist as he adjusted his posture to suddenly tower over you, pushing you back against the cushions. Your head hit the armrest with a little oof, a moan getting caught in your throat at the contact.
“Don't ‘Peter’ me.” he cooed, as if he were talking to a baby kitten, hand stroking your cheek.
“I can smell you, bunny. So sweet, bet you taste so delicious. You can't fight it, your body wants it. I know what your body needs. I know what you need.” he urged, knowing his words had you wrapped in a chokehold.
You were about to be KOed by him, body falling to the mat without you even realizing it.
“You do?” you asked, naive.
Because of course Peter knew more than you, of course he understood what was going on with you. He understood these funny feelings that seemed to bubble in your stomach, consuming you whole.
“Of course I do, bunny. You have to trust me, trust is key in a relationship. In any relationship. I would never hurt you, don't you know that?”
Except he wasn't hurting you. He was hurting your innocence. Not that you were fully aware of that, of course.
“But, we’ve never hung out before this and I just.. I don't want you to think I’m taking advantage of you.” you murmured softy, breath quickening as his thumb neared your lips, tugging on the lower one with his thumb.
He wanted to laugh. Oh gosh, you were really like a little fawn.
“You’d never take advantage of me bunny, not ever. I would just be such a bad person if I didn’t help with those funny feelings I know you have right now.” he tilted his head, mock sympathy etched on his face like a carved marble statue.
“I don't know what they really are, I’ve never really-”
“You don't have to know. You shouldn't know, anything right now. Let me know, for you.” he insisted, dragging his thumb to smear your lipgloss, the sparkles stained on him like a brand.
His eyes never lingered from yours as he smeared the gloss across his lower lip, his tongue darting out to taste. “Mmm strawberry.” he grinned wickedly, making you giggle softly.
But he knew that already.
“It’s my favorite.” you whispered as his hand hiked up your dress, chest rising and falling quickly as he unwrapped you like a present on Christmas morning. Your head lolled to the side, leather caressing your cheek as Peter traced a slightly calloused finger down your abdomen, teasing you.
“Aren't you precious?” he murmured to himself, as if you were a test subject, and he was recording notes on how each touch, each taste affected you. He wanted to capture a picture of you in this moment, frame it and hang it perfectly center in his room.
This one, this one would take the prize.
The way you looked right now, so eager, yet confused spurred him on more than he thought was possible- doe eyes wide and mouth slightly parted as little gasps escaped you.
“Feels funny-” you moaned, the feeling of electrical shocks coursing through your limbs the closer he inches to your clothed cunt.
“Shh, shh I know. I know, but you gotta trust me bunny. Trust me. Trust daddy- yea?” he shushed, hand cupping your mound, making your hips buck up with a start.
“Oh godd-” you cried, Peter's fingers gently tapping the wet spot that had overtaken your panties, your slick smearing on his skin as he grinned.
“Such a messy girl aren’t you? Virgins always are. So easy to get wet.”
You didn't know how he knew you were a virgin, and quite frankly- you didn't care. Mr. Bear would disagree with Peter, your slick across his fur the odd time a key indicator of that.
But going against your stuffed teddy didnt nearly feel as good as this.
His fingers began to rub little circles across your clit, the feeling of pleasure so startling and overwhelming that your hand snaked down to grab his wrist with such urgency you feared you had hurt him. Eyes wide, you whimpered.
“I can't- we can't-”
“Yes, we can. I know it feels funny but you gotta stay still and take it. Be a good girl.” he growled, voice husky and consumed with lust as he continued to play you like an instrument, fingers reading each cord your body demanded from the staff.
“See, there we go bunny! Just sit there and take it like my pretty lil dolly.” he praised you softly as your hips attempted to still, your legs starting to shake from the overstimulation.
It was too much. Too, too much.
Before you even realized what you were doing, you felt your thumb slip into your mouth- a coping mechanism you had used when your brain was turning fuzzy and cloudy, like a mirror fogging up during a shower.
Vulnerability. He was teasing you into submission, into regression.
“Awh poor baby. Feels so good, doesn't it bunny? You look so pathetic for me.” he cooed, a mock pout etched on his face as he pinched your inner thigh, making you squeal as you felt the elastic in your stomach snap, gushing all over his hand.
It was pure bliss, the way you sounded, your moans and little breathless gasps of pleasure driving him up the wall. The way you were absentmindedly grinding into his hand, the cushions of his palm bumping into your clit as he brought you down from your high had the seams of your innocent breaking, your body taking the pleasure it needed.
The pleasure it deserved.
“There we go, good girl. Such a good, good girl.”
You had made a mess- everywhere.
God, you were embarrassed.
“M’so sorry.” you gasped, in shock you had came that hard from his touch alone. “Don't apologize bunny, your body needed that. You've been denying her of it for so, so long and you need to learn your lesson.” he tsked, fingers tickling you as they wrapped around the flimsy waistband, tugging the lace down past your thighs.
It was as if you wanted to get fucked. As if you wanted to be used. And he’d be damned if he didn’t indulge you.
“What lesson?” you questioned, a flutter of anxiousness laced in your voice as the cool air hit your exposed cunt, your clit throbbing from the stimulation it had just received.
Your poor cunt was all swollen and puffy. Oh well.
“You need to give your pretty little body what it wants, what it needs. Stop denying me. But don't worry-” he smiled cruelly, the sound of his belt jangling made you shiver with anticipation, a ball of arousal mixed with flurries of anxious butterflies churning in your stomach.
“Daddy's here now, to help you. Say ah” You obeyed, feeling as if you had no choice but to part your lips wide. The image above you was pure sin, Peter's eyes as black as the night sky as he stuffed the panties in your mouth, making you choke on a gasp.
You sputtered as the sweet, salty taste hit your tongue, a muffled cry threatening to burst from your lips as is thoughts raced. This was all he had ever wanted, and now that he was finally getting it?
He felt on fire.
He felt as he would simply perish from the insides, flame charring the blood that roared in his ears as he overshadowed you. The desire that coursed through him was inhumane- animalistic as he stroked away a stray tear with his thumb, the hint of fear blending with the desire in your eyes giving all the information he needed to know.
You were scared. You didn’t know what you wanted. He had to teach you. To train you.
“We’d be so perfect together- ya know.” he hushed, cutting off your plea of a jumble between ‘please and his name. The dress bunched up slipped off you with ease as he guided it over your head, pinning your arms up helplessly.
“You’d be my little doll. Mine to- Hey, hey eyes up here.” he warned, making your eyes flicker back up to meet his as he spread your legs even further.
You whined. He just smiled.
“Mine to dress up and play with, cause you're such a good girl bunny.” he hummed, head thrown back in pleasure as he entered you, your nails scratching his skin as you wailed making him even harder.
You were just what he dreamed of. So tight, and wet and warm-
Your eyes rolled back at his words, his mindless, endless rambling distracting you from the burn in your belly as he sank into you deeper. He wasn't even all the way in yet.
Oh, you were fucked.
“G-god dammit bunny your little cunts grippin me. Can’t- can't think when you're this pretty for me.” he moaned, his cock brushing against your walls as he slowly stretched you, despite his body telling him to ram into you so hard you passed out.
He wasn't that cruel. Yet.
It was hard to breathe with the gag stuffed in your mouth, your vocal cords scratching as you moaned into the soaking fabric that was now also covered in your spit.
You were lightheaded from the stimulation, pleasure blurring from pain as you clung onto the sound of his sweet voice.
“Shh, shh sweet girl I know, I know it's so much isn't it? But you're handling it so well. Look at me all up in your guts hmm?” You looked down, the outline of his cock in your abdomen making you hiccup as he pressed on it gently.
All you could do was sit and squirm as he used you, slowly rocking into you with each whisper of praise that left his lips, making you feel dirty.
This was filthy. This was dirty, and wrong. But you loved it. You loved the way he was making you feel, the way he knew what was best for you. If Peter said your body needed this, then it did.
No room for further discussion.
“Mghm” was all you could murmur, body shaking as you came around him, vision white with bliss. You were floating among the cosmos, feeling as if you had taken a hit from Daryl's weed at the party earlier.
It was euphoric, the way this man had made you feel without even trying. Without making you do anything.
No, you let him take the reins. You had seen things in the movies before, where the girls tended to give and give to make the man happy. This wasn't with Peter.
He was the giver.
He gave you pleasure, but the pleasure he gave you was so good he had to take some from himself as well. He couldn't explain to you how good he felt in words, so he showed you.
Pounded into you, slow and deep. Made you feel each thrust, each kiss, each lick of his tongue against your cheeks as he cleaned the salty tears.
“God baby bunny you made such a mess over me hm? Creamed my cock dry. Guess it's only fair I finish inside you, stuff you nice n deep for your first time…”
A rub of your clit and the sound of his whine was the last thing you heard before the lights went out.
Peter was still in a state of shock.
He felt as if he was walking on air, a ghost as he floated around the apartment.
This was real. This was very, very real.
Any one of his hundreds of fantasies, any images that scattered across in his mind like camera flashes couldn't compare to how exquisite you were.
How good you felt.
He knew the second you had looked at him with those wide doe eyes, with such innocence he was done for. He couldn't contain himself anymore.
Peter had given you every last drop of his cum, stuffing it in your sensitive cunt with his fingers. He couldn't let a single drop go to waste. He had been dreaming about it for too long.
The rise and fall of your chest brought him back down to some form of reality, realizing what exactly had happened. He had ruined you. Taken your innocence.
It was his now. His possession. Just like how you soon be.
Hands running through his hair, he smiled at your passed out figure, taking the panties out of your mouth.
He’d be keeping these, as well as your other ones. A collection, he decided.
A new hobby.
Peter made his way over to the bathroom, warming up a soft washcloth with warm water. He wasn't sure what kind of lotion you liked, although he often smelt vanilla on you. It was one of his favorite scents.
He’d be sure to pick some up tomorrow, but for now- his lotion would have to do. A gentle whistle sounded from his lips as he nudged his bedroom door open, a picture of your smiling figure greeting him as he switched on the bedside light.
The fact he didn’t even need any pictures tonight made him smile. He had you. Right where he wanted you.
There was a pep in his step as he snagged you a sweater, a soft blanket (that smelled of him, he obviously made sure of this, he wasn't stupid) and a glass of water from the kitchen before making his way back to you.
You were still passed out among the cushions, goosebumps rising on your skin as he neared. “Sleepy lil kitty.” he sang softly, flicking your nose gently. He was met with a soft snore, making him shake his head in amusement.
He really did fuck you dumb, and then into sleep didn’t he?
You were so beautiful. That's all he could think of, peering down at you. He had always thought you were beautiful, through the lens of his camera.
But up close and personal, where he could see each little dimple, each mark and ridge, he thought you were breathtaking.
I’m not very photogenic. Those words were utter bullshit.
Before he knew what he was doing, he had made his way back down the hall- stumbling back into his room. Grabbing his polaroid camera after half jumping into some boxers and pj pants- he gravitated down the darkened hall back to you.
His angel. His bunny.
The flash reflected across your body as he snapped the photo, the whirling of the camera not making you move an inch as you remained in slumber.
Peter would make you feel photogenic. He would make you feel beautiful, make you feel like the most stunning model in the entire universe every day- if you let him.
But let's be honest here, you really wouldn't have much of a choice, now would you?
Smut with Peter x Reader where it’s their anniversary ( wedding or dating you choose) and they go raw for the first time and Peter is a absolute mess plus his dick is sensitive
Hiii~! Hm so. Hopefully this is to your expectations-!
So I interpreted, this as a bit of a subby/switch Peter I hope that’s alright.
this also can be read any spidey too :3
Also you didn’t use any she pronouns so I went ahead and made the reader AFAB! :3
18+ no minors <3￼￼
Cw:overstimulation, unprotected sex, teasing,switch!reader, switch! Peter.
“Why am I blindfolded?”
“Can I not surprise my fiancé?”
Peter says ‘fiancé’ with a French accent, putting extra flavor in the ‘e’.
“You can but why do I have to be blindfolded!”
“Mm cus it makes it more exciting?”
You groan, “get on with it, Pete!”
“Ugh! Ewww ungrateful!” Peter put on a false voice, you held your laugh trying to keep the appearance of annoyance.
“I can see trying not to smile, baby. Can’t fool me” even though you can’t see him grinning, you could feel it.
“Okay, you caught me but please no more waiting I’m excited!”
You felt a woosh as your eyes adjusted to the light, a gasp emits from your mouth as you feel Peter hug you from behind.
“Awh, Pete you shouldn’t have.”
The living room was decked out with fairy lights, your couch was made into a fort moved from its original place to make way for big comfy blankets and pillows replaced it, with your favorite snacks and drinks in the middle and your head turned to the tv.
“Peter…” you feel a press of a kiss on your cheek as your eyes glitter with tears, an album of your best moments together plastered on the screen, some of the pictures were just of you when you weren’t looking at Peter. He liked that, taking pictures of you off guard, it was “artistic” he said.
“Do you like it?” You nod squeaking out a “yes”, it was clear you liked it but Peter always needed that extra reassurance.
You run over to the fort, you can’t contain your joy.
“Wait wait, before we sit down.” Peter puts his hands out before shooting his webs to grab a bag on the counter.
“Matching PJs.” Peter shrugs and you squeal with delight.
Your eyes train on Peter, biting your lip.
“Nothing nothing- just..I-I uhm have a ‘surprise’ b-but I feel like it’s lame compared to” you pause motioning all around the room, “This!”
“You know I don’t care about how grand it is.” Peter nuzzles his nose with yours making you giggle.
“W-well uhm. I-hh..”
Peter leans into you, eyebrows raised awaiting your answers.
“I-..started taking birth control. S-so we could ..”
“Do it without a condom?” Peter finished your sentence, his eyes glossed over, you nod you couldn’t get the words out so you’re glad he said it for you.
“I-i wanted it to be a surprise for our anniversary” you fiddle with your PJs you lift to see his eyes, his jaw was clenched as you scanned his face your eyes naturally travel down to his bulge.
The fabric strained against it you wet your lips instinctively stealing a glance at Peter’s lust-blown eyes, “I’m not gonna lie..I-i really I want to fuck you right now.”
“I mean” you pause, biting your lip, “I-I told you for a reason.”
You watch that as a glint in Peter started to form, the same glint you always see when you know he’s about to tease you.
“Tell me what you need, pretty one?” Peter’s hand's inch up your thighs, his head dipped down low to try to meet your eyes.
“Come on, you can do it.” Pete’s lips graze your cheeks, his mouth near your ear now.
“We won’t get anywhere with silence, y’know? Communication is key right?”
Peter holds your chin hostage forcing you to stare into his eyes, “What do you wanna do, hm?”
Your eyes wander a bit before you snap back to him via his hands gripping your chin hard, it makes you whimper.
“I guess you don’t wanna-“
You close your eyes, breathing through your nose because opening them again, “n-no I.. I want t..to have sex with you…!” Your lips wobble after you spoke, he knew you were shy and he loved to exploit it.
“Now was that so bad?” Peter smirked as you broke out of your shy trance, you push him away
“Oh fuck you! You know I get flustered when you do that stuff!”
Peter’s hands play with the buttons on your shirt, undoing them one by one, “can’t help myself, you look so cute when your all embarrassed like that” Peter discards your pajamas ￼top leaving your bare chest on display, you feel the urge to be modest but you know how Parker would react. His hands hooked onto your PJS bottoms, you lifted to help him slide them off you.
“God I’ll never get tired of looking at you, y’know that?” Pete traces your nipples with his tongue before undoing his shirt and pants.
You hum in agreement, “What’s with the rush, Petey?” you tease, well try to at least you leaned into his face, planting kisses gently which were returned in good favor. “Mm, when’d you learn how to tease?” Pete’s hands were soft as they cupped your face.
“Me?” he giggled as you nodded, “Nice to know I rub off on you.” His fingers creep up the sides of your body, eventually reaching your boobs giving them a squeeze then rubbing them in soft soothing circles.
“You’re so corny! we’re about to raw dog for the first time and you're making puns?” You climb into his lap, pouting to keep yourself from laughing at his antics.
“Mm, cus I know it makes you happy and cus I know you're nervous..” Petey smiles as your eyebrows arch.
“Mm? I’m not nervous bout that..” your head tilts in confusion until it hits you, he’s nervous. “Aw babe..” you shift your weight, pressing your core into his bulge.
Peter’s breath hitched, “I’m not nervous at all, I can’t wait to feel you cum in me.” Your eyelid lowered, your hands picking at his boxers, before diving into them, fishing out his cock.
Your hands glided up and down his cock, Peter's sharp breath made you grin your pace sped up in the effort for more. “Fuck-! W-who are you? W-what have you done to my fiancé?” Peter smirks in false control, only to be interrupted by a kiss from you.
“S-so soft.. I-i love your hands-“ Peter’s hands grasp your wrist, “but I don’t wanna c-cum there.” You pull your hand away, leaning back to study his face as his hands went to return to favor. Slithering into your waistband, “god, you’re so wet..I can’t wait to fuck you” Peter groans, his fingers slipping up and down your slit, probing your hole.
Your hips buck up with soft sighs, “No point in w-waiting, I’m wet e-enough..” you lift letting Peter slip off your underwear, “I wanna see your f-face when you enter me” you felt hot, you’ve never been this straightforward with him before but you could tell he relished it.
Peter nodded, breathless as you lined yourself with him. You grasp his dick, you push the tip against your clit, letting your slick cover it.
“Fuck- god! That.. that feels so good..” Peter’s words were through gritted teeth. “P-please baby put it in..” you feel a fire ignite in you, you want more.
You leaned against his chest, allowing your body to grind against his cock, letting your pussy slip up and down, “bab-baby fuck that feels so good. Please please- l-let me fuck y-you.” His voice was higher than usual, hands on the floor gripping the sheets, his hips trying but failing not to thrust into you.
“I’m sorry I was just getting payback for all the times you’ve edged me” you leave kisses on his lips, as you guide his dick to your hole, letting yourself slide onto it, agonizingly slow moaning as you adjust. Your eyes gazed at Peter, his mouth open but no words or sounds just pure bliss, his eyebrows knitted together, head thrown back.
You raise yourself, slamming back down, skin colliding on skin making a delicious smacking sound.
Peter whimpers, “fuckfuckfuck- you feel like heaven oh my god! So..sososo warm ohh.”, his hands instantly are off the floor and onto your hips. “Please d-don’t stop..! D-don’t stop pleasepleaseplease…!” Peter’s whines filled the air, his voice made your insides clench.
“Aah- fuckfuck- please do that again. Fuck! it feels so good.” His hands use your hips as handlebars, using them to push and pull you up and down his cock. “M-more more more I need more..! Nngh-“
“Oh god- Pete! Mmhn- “ your legs hug him tight, driving him deeper into hitting directly into your g spot, your head is thrown back as it hits over and over again.
Peter whines, “ooh-“ his thrust are sloppy as he fucks himself into you. “N-never been so dee-ahh…!“ Peter's hands are quickly planted on your back, laying you down, returning to hips in seconds.
A crushing grip, that will leave bruising marks to be remembered and kissed upon tomorrow. Peter’s whimpers swell in your mind as your own choked moans spill out your mouth.
Your hands travel down to your clit rubbing furious circles as you sob in pleasure. “P-peter! Mmmh- so fast..!” Your free hand pulls his head down for a kiss, his shaky breaths against your soft lips, you muffle both of your moans with a searing kiss.
Tongues and teeth clashing in a mess of lust and love, little whispers of “I love you” bounce back and forward as eyes gaze at each other through hazy vision and tears.
“Ooh..Pete-“ your eyes close as you buck up, “S-say my name again, please..” soft touches of the cheek compel you to say again and again, Parker’s fingers dig into your skin as his thrust becoming harder and harder making your body shake as your eyes pinched.
You arch as you feel yourself clenching, pressure building up more and more at your core. Peter keeps his tempo as you squirm, “g-gon-“ your hands go haywire as you let out a scream.
Your ears ring as you pant, fingers splayed out on his chest. “Oooh” Peter whines out more obscenities as he fucks you through your orgasm, “Y-y..fuck even more wet..I’m- fuck soosososo cl-“ peter sobs, hiccuping as his moans get louder.
“Fuck! Ilov- Mm! Iloveyousomuch!!” Peter's rough fingers make their way to clit, harsh and fast strokes make you whine, your body moves against your will trying to match his thrusts.
“I-I’m - shitshitshit- imcummin’!” Peter’s eyes roll back as he pumps into you, a warm pressure courses through your body as Peter's cock pulses in you, “Hhn-oh I-I can feel you in me..” you push your body against his cock, Peter throws his head back as obscenities flow out of his mouth.
“Ah-..! Y-you mm- you're practically milking me. Fuck-“ Peter presses down on your stomach you groan in delight. “I-I’m g-gunna cum again, Ah-mmhnn!” You throw back again, convulsing with pleasure.
“M-me too, fuck your- “ Peter grunts as crams more
cum into your hole, “Y-ya take it..take it”
The room was stuffy, both your heads were spinning as you breathed as you stared at each other.
“Amazing, spectacular, sensational?”
You half-hazard hit him, “You’re such a goofball!”
“Mmm, you love it though. Dontcha?” Peter winks with his head tilted, his hair stuck up and all different ways.
“Hate to admit it, but you’re right.” You ruffle his hair.