Smuts - not my

Dark Peter Parker

We should break up."
Peter paused, his mug pressed against his lips. His eyes flitted up to you, wide and confused.
"...what?"
"I said we should break up." Your hands were shaking so badly that you had to put your mug back on the table.
Peter nodded before taking a long sip of his coffee, regardless of it still steaming. If the heat bothered him, he didn't show it- he kept his eyes trained downwards.
"Oh." His voice was so small that it was almost drowned out by the idle noise of the cafe. He looked towards the window as tears gathered in his eyes, trying to keep you from seeing them fall.
You ached to reach out and comfort him, but you knew if you did, you wouldn't do it. You'd welcome him and his obsessive behavior back into your life.

The first time you met Peter, it was through MJ. You were the new kid at school, and with how shy you were, it was difficult to talk to anyone.
So come lunchtime, you stood in the middle of the cafeteria, spinning in circles looking for a place to sit when MJ decides to take pity on you and called you over to sit with her. Only one other person sat with her, who you found out to be Ned, who was silent as he gawked at you.
A few minutes go by with you and MJ talking and Ned staring with his mouth open when you're startled by someone suddenly dropping down beside you.
He looked frantic, like he had been rushing, but not out of breath- which couldn't be said about you.
He was absolutely breathtaking- his short brown hair slightly tangled from his rush, and his pretty brown eyes wide. You could feel your heart try to beat out of your chest just from looking at him.
He started going on a tangent about the decathlon team and how he had so much work to do but not enough time when MJ cut him off and gestured over to you.
"Aren't you going to say hi?" she had said, giving him an expression that pretty much said really?.
He stopped and turned to you, and looked surprised that you were there- as if you hadn't been for the last two minutes of his rant. Regardless, you gave him a small wave and introduced yourself. He mirrored your smile and held out his hand, giving you a soft Peter in return. His hands were still soft despite the roughness of his calluses, and you found yourself pouting a bit when he pulled his hand back.
MJ made a fake gagging noise while Ned said something about it being so soft it makes me sick. You couldn't help but giggle a little bit at their antics.

Despite your little crush on Peter, your friendship didn't progress into a relationship until your second sophomore year, after the Blip. Lucky, MJ and Ned were in the same boat as you in Peter, and you leaned on each other for support- especially you and Peter. You began spending more time at the other's house, spending the night- even if your dad didn't like it. So, when the silent longing grew into something more, no one was surprised. Your parents loved Peter, and May adored you, while MJ and Ned cheered you guys on from the sidelines.
Even after only a few months of dating, you knew Peter was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. He was everything you could have asked for: gentle, loving, loyal. He was perfect.
Until you went on your trip overseas.
It started with Flash saying vaguely vulgar things to you, just to get under Peter's skin. You brushed it off, hoping Peter would do the same, but he swore up and down that Flash was trying to take you from him. No matter how many times you told him that Flash couldn't "take" you from him, Peter remained steadfast in his belief that Flash liked you.
It got to the point where Peter wouldn't let you out of his sight, saying that he didn't trust Flash enough to not try anything. It unsettled you how Peter thought Flash may try to take advantage of you. Sure, he was annoying and a bit of a creep, but a rapist?
Peter's incessant need to have you by his side became difficult to handle when he would disappear for hours at a time. Whenever he'd come back, he'd gently scolded you for moving, as if you had to stay in the last place he had left you. He made you promise that if he weren't around that you'd stay with MJ and Ned, and never go anywhere by yourself. You reluctantly agreed, mainly just to get Peter off of your back and to avoid an argument.
Yet, you broke that "rule" one night after Peter had been gone for longer than usual. You were fed up with his disappearing act, and took it upon yourself to find him. When you did, you see him dressed as Spider-Man, slinging webs like Spider-Man, acting like Spider-Man- being Spider-Man- in the middle of a fight with some monstrosity you've never seen before. You nearly pissed yourself but hurried back to the hotel before anyone saw you.
Peter came back about an hour later, again reprimanding you for not being with Ned and MJ. You cut him off and asked if you could go on a walk, in the guise of missing him. Though true, it wasn't the whole truth.
Your little walk to Charles Bridge was spent in relatively tense silence, your hand getting clammy in Peter's palm. He'd asked you multiple times if you were okay or if something was bothering you, but you'd only respond with a not yet. Truthfully, you were nervous. Would he take you knowing his secret well, or would he break up with you? Would he threaten you? Kill you?
No, you reassured yourself. This is Peter we're talking about- your loving boyfriend, your protector Spider-Man. He doesn't hurt people.
You stopped in the middle of the bridge, letting go of Peter's hand as you walked to the ledge. You could feel your fingers shake with nerves as Peter sidled up next to you, his right hand resting over yours.
"Are you okay?" He had asked gently, his fingers coasting over yours with the faintest of touch.
You could barely meet his sweet eyes, so you instead decided to watch the gentle moving water. You shifted your hand so your fingers would intertwine with his, holding tighter than you should, though he's Spider-Man. He should be able to handle it.
"Please talk to me, sweetheart. Is something wrong? Did something happen? Did Flash try something?" Peter asked, his voice thick with worry, though you shook your head in an attempt to calm him. After a few moments of silence, Peter asked, "Then what is it?"
You gulped, your tongue was suddenly heavy in your throat. You didn't want to say it, but you had to.
Before you could second guess yourself, you had blurted out, "I know you're Spider-Man!"
After saying that, you slapped your hands over your mouth, slightly surprised that you actually managed to say it. You looked to Peter for his reaction, and it made you want to cry. Despite how quickly you had said it, Peter seemed to have heard you. His face was pale and his mouth bobbed, trying to figure out what to say.
All he managed was a small What? as his hand clenched the ledge of the bridge and his knuckles turned white.
You took a deep breath before lowering your hands from your mouth. "I said I know you're Spider-Man. I saw you earlier, fighting that thing," you whispered, fearing that if you said it too loud he'd freak out.
Peter's face shifted from a look a pure terror to anger and disbelief. "You what?! What were you thinking?! You know you weren't supposed to leave MJ and Ned!" he yelled, his hands finally leaving the ledge as he threw them into the air. His cheeks grew red with anger.
"I know and I'm sorry! I was just so worried that there was something wrong and I wanted to see if you were okay! You've been leaving almost every day for hours, and I have no idea where you go!" You reached out for Peter, but he pushed your hands away, instead grasping your shoulders and shook you.
"You can't just do that! You could have gotten lost- hurt even! Maybe worse! You can't just wander off without telling anyone!"
You furrowed your brows and tried to calm down, but it wasn't working." Then what the hell have you been doing?! You literally just fought some monster thing!" You weren't one to curse, let alone raise your voice, but your patience was wearing thin. You shrugged his hands off of your shoulders, leaving him to huff and run his hands through his hair.
"That's different! I know what I'm doing! I don't know what I would do if you had gotten hurt, much less killed!" Peter hollered, angry tears welling in his eyes. When he looked at you, his jaw was set, lips pressed into a thin line.
"First of all, I'm not some defenseless damsel in distress. I can take care of myself and how dare you say otherwise! Second, do you think I would know what to do it you died?! And last time I checked, the likelihood of you dying is a lot higher than mine!" You couldn't help how your voice raised in volume, where it echoed off of the surprisingly empty streets.
Peter jumped forward at your volume and tried to shush you. "Please, baby, not so loud!" He looked around frantically, watching for anyone who could have heard.
You paused and took another deep breath, looking back over the water. Tears began to sting at your eyes. "I just... Seeing you fight that thing was the scariest thing I'd ever seen. And now that I know that this isn't even the first time you've been in a fight is even scarier to think about. I don't even want to think about losing you, but I know I very well could." You hated how your voice wavered and how tears started to fall from your eyes.
"Petal..." Peter sighed before wrapping his arms around you, pressing you to his chest.
You began to sob freely- the fear you had tried to suppress from earlier coming back full-force. You slung your arms around Peter's neck and pulled yourself as close to him as humanly possible.
"I can't lose you, Peter! I've never felt this way about anyone else before, and the thought that I could have lost you makes me physically sick," you cried into his shirt, letting his gentle scent soothe you.
Peter cooed softly into your hair, planting little kisses everywhere he could reach as he rocked you side to side. "But you didn't, angel. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere. I promise."
"But you don't know that!" you cried and buried your face into his neck. Your tears began to land on the skin of his neck, but if it bothered him, he didn't say anything about it.
"No, I don't, but I do know that I would do everything I could to come back to you. Okay?" Peter asked as one of his hands reached up to pet your hair. You gave a small nod into the crook of his neck, and you heard him sigh in relief.
You couldn't help the thought that popped into your head, and now it was at the front of your mind. You two had yet to say it, but it was as good as a time as any.
"I love you," you said almost as soon as it came to mind. Your cheeks heated as soon as you said it, but you didn't shy away.
"I love you, too," Peter said just a quickly, before tenderly grasping your chin and tilted your head to look at him. The soft plush of his lips settled over yours in a heartwarming kiss, one that seemed he was trying to pour of his love into.

After finding out Peter's alter ego, he had started cracking down on you even more. Where you used to only have to be with either MJ or Ned when Peter wasn't there, now you had to be with both. Any time Flash said anything to you, you were to ignore him and tell Peter what he had said if he wasn't there to hear it himself.
It didn't come to a tipping point until the attack in London.
After you all returned home safely, the number of times you were without Peter could be counted on one hand. You did everything together- if you went to the store, he'd go with you. Walking home from school? Not by yourself, you're not. MJ spending the night? Now are Peter and Ned. It was like the only alone time you had was when you were in the bathroom.
His controlling behavior had gotten so out of hand that your parents had to kick him out multiple times because he refused to leave. Even MJ and Ned were starting to get concerned about Peter's behavior.
Ned couldn't joke around with you as he used to unless he wanted to receive a death glare from Peter. Any time MJ would try to hang out with just you, Peter always found a way to make an appearance. What little time you had alone with her consisted of her lecturing you on how toxic his behavior was, and you brushing it off, saying that it's just how he shows he loves you. He always had to know where you were, what you were doing, who you were with. If you were with your family, he'd make you call him whenever you got home. If you were with someone he didn't approve of, he'd order you to wait there so he could pick you up.
It was like that throughout your whole senior year- any friends you had outside of MJ and Ned became nonexistent, and slowly even them. Anytime you'd mention spending time with anyone that wasn't him, Peter would go on some tangent about how it's too dangerous, you could get hurt, blah blah blah.
The day you had asked Peter why he was so worried about you was one you'd never forget. He'd ranted and raved for hours about how you dating Spider-Man made you a target- a target for who, he wouldn't say- and how he was just protecting you. Whenever you told him you weren't any more of a target than before you knew he was Spider-Man was one of time you were genuinely scared of Peter.
Your words had sent him into a rage, and you wouldn't have been surprised if he ended up hitting you. He had apologized afterward, but it did little in the way of reassurance.
Now, a year and a half into college- enough was enough. Your parents had put their foot down, forcing you to break up with him. No matter how much you protested, they wouldn't listen. Apparently, Aunt May had even stepped in, talking to them about Peter's controlling obsession over you.
You felt betrayed. Did May not like you? Was she just going this because she didn't want you to be with Peter?
But no matter how much you loved Peter, a part of you knew that something had to be done. You couldn't be with him anymore.
So, with the help of MJ and Ned, who were very supportive, you had arranged a "date" with Peter with the sole purpose to break up with him. Ironically, you chose the same cafe he had taken you to for your first date.

Now he sat across from you, where he tried to avoid making eye contact with you. He never looked at you when he cried.
"Can I ask why?" Peter said softly, one of his hands dropping to the table and began to tap nervously. You so badly wanted to reach out and still his hand, but it wasn't your place. Not anymore.
"Everyone is worried about your behavior- my parents, Aunt May, MJ and Ned. They think that you're controlling me." You swirled your finger over the rim of your mug, watching as the puffs of steam curled into the air.
"And do you think that?"
Your eyes shot up at how dark his tone was. His eyes were stone when you met his gaze; he looked so angry. As angry as he did the night on the bridge.
You swallowed around the lump in your throat, knowing that he'd know if you were to lie. "I do."
Peter's eyes watered despite how hard they were, and he no longer tried to hide the fact that he was crying. He stared you straight in the eyes, his gaze not faltering.
"Okay."
You visibly paused before narrowing your eyes. His response threw you through a loop. You weren't sure what you were expecting- crying, yelling, begging, anything- not for Peter to accept your word.
"Okay? That's all?" you asked, dumbfounded. With how possessive he was of you, he was handling this rather well.
"Yeah, okay. I can't force you to be with me," he answered plainly as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. His words weren't matching his tears though.
Deciding that it wouldn't do much harm, you grabbed a napkin before gently blotted the tears off of his face. Peter let you, even going as far as pushing his face into your palm. You caved, cradling his face in your hand, and softly rubbed your thumb over his cheekbone, something he would do to you whenever you used to cuddle.
"I love you," Peter whispered and planted a kiss to your palm. His tears increased, and his shoulders started to bob from his sobs.
"I love you, too." You paused, feeling tears of your own slide down your cheeks. You slowly let your hand fall from his face, your heart breaking even more as you watch what little peace he felt fall from his expression. "That's what makes this so much harder."
Peter closed his eyes and nodded. He slid down in his seat, his posture portraying how defeated he felt. He didn't even bother hiding his tears at this point.
"I understand. I know how much you love me," Peter said in response.
You picked up your mug again, and took a sip of your now lukewarm drink. It tasted bitter.
"I also just want to say that your... secret is safe with me. You don't have to worry about it getting out," you said once the silence became unbearable.
Peter nodded numbly, not even turning to look at you as he responded a soft I know.
The two of you sat in thick silence for a few minutes. You could feel a few prying eyes observing you as they waited to see what happens next.
You jumped when you felt your phone start to vibrate on the table, and both you and Peter watched as MJ's name lit up the screen. You looked at him sheepishly, as if you were asking for permission to answer. You were so used to Peter answering the phone for you, regardless of who it was, that answering it yourself seemed so foreign.
But Peter was no longer your boyfriend, no matter how much that made your heart ache, so you picked up the phone and answered the call.
"Hello?" you asked, and heard MJ respond to you with a soft Hey.
"You still with Peter?"
"Yeah, why?"
MJ was silent for a second, and you thought you could hear a second voice.
"Is Ned with you?" you asked, and at the mention of his name, Peter's head snapped towards your phone, his eyes narrowed.
"Yeah, he is. We were actually going to go see a movie, you should come with us," MJ said, and you could hear a small Yeah!.
You giggled solemnly, finding Ned's enthusiasm a little heartwarming. "Okay, what time do you want to meet up?"
"Oh, we're actually outside," you heard Ned pipe up.
You turned to look outside, and sure enough, you could see Ned and MJ standing across the street. When Ned saw you looking in their direction, he offered a wave. You smiled and waved back.
"Well, I shouldn't be much longer then. See you soon."
After MJ took the phone back from Ned, she said her goodbyes, you hung up. Peter still had his eyes trained on you, his hands curled so tightly his knuckles were white.
"You have plans with Ned and MJ?" he asked, his voice strained.
"Yeah. Spur of the moment thing." You couldn't help but feel guilty. It had been so long since the four of you had hung out together. After Peter had started cracking down on who you were around, he had inadvertently closed himself off from his friends, too.
"Oh." Peter looked away, his eyes idly guiding him to where MJ and Ned sat. His scowl hardened even more, but he didn't say anything else.
After a few moments of neither of you moving, your attention turned back to Peter as he suddenly sat up, and you noted the slight look of determination on his face. His tears had ceased, and if your eyes weren't deceiving you, it looked like he was fighting back a smile.
"You should probably get going. You don't want to keep them waiting," he said, but it sounded more like an order.
His complete change in energy startled you. Not even ten seconds ago did he look like he was furious over you spending time with your old friends, and now he was encouraging you to leave?
Though it wasn't probably best to not question his sudden switch of mood, so you just nodded. You gathered your things, offering Peter a sad smile that he didn't return, and leave to meet MJ and Ned. You could feel Peter's eyes following you as until the little cafe was no longer in sight.
A strange heaviness was lifted off of your shoulders the farther you were from Peter, but a sinking feeling began to build in the pit of your stomach. Something was wrong, but you weren't sure what that something was.
Putting Peter as far away from your mind as you could manage, you let yourself enjoy being in your friends' company once again.

Even after a week of silence, a week without seeing Peter, that little bit of dread never really went away. There were moments where you could ignore it, where you went about your daily life without a care in the world. Then came moments, where conversation would lull, leaving you in a brief moment of silence. That short moment was enough for your sense to be aware of your surroundings, and no matter how alone you were, it never truly felt that way.
You were getting ready for bed when your phone started to vibrate on your bed. It was strange to receive a call so late, but you tried to ignore that as you picked up your phone.
No name showed up, so you knew it wasn't someone saved in your contacts, but you recognized the series of numbers instantly. It was from Peter. You had deleted his number from your phone on the walk to the theater at the request of MJ, even though a piece of your heart broke at the idea.
Now you warred at yourself whether you should answer or not. Maybe he was going to scream at you, beg for you to come back. Maybe he just wanted to apologize. Maybe he-
Apparently, you had taken too long to answer, since the ringing had stopped. You let out the breath you didn't even know you were holding.
The phone abruptly started vibrating again, making you squeal and jump. Your sudden movement caused your thumb to bump the 'answer' button, accepting the call. Your blood froze as you just stood there, never moving the phone to your ear, even after you heard Peter call out to you.
"Hello? Anyone there?" Peter called out, his sweet voice making you ache.
You snapped out of your stupor and brought the phone to your ear. "Peter?"
You heard him sigh in what seemed to be of relief, "Hey, baby. How are you?"
You could feel your brows furrow. Was he just calling to have a casual conversation?
"I'm okay? Why are you calling me?" You mentally flinched at how harsh you sounded, but you reminded yourself that Peter had no reason to call you and was overstepping an unspoken boundary.
"I was cleaning when I found one of your rings. The one your grandma gave you?"
You knew what he was talking about- the ring she had given you for your 16th birthday. You only wore it on special occasions, so it was mainly tucked away in your jewelry box. There was no way it would be in his house.
"I don't see how it would have gotten there. Maybe it's one of May's rings?"
"No, it's yours. If you don't believe me, I can show you."
Your phone started to vibrate again, Peter had requested to video call, which you reluctantly accepted. His face illuminated the screen, and you were slightly surprised to see how... happy he looked. Had he moved on that fast?
"See? It's right here." Peter held up the ring, a bright smile stretching over his face.
You paused as you looked at the ring. True to his word, it was yours, yet you had no idea how it would be at his house. You've only worn it once to your senior prom, and you didn't take it off until you got home.
"Let me check my jewelry box," you mumbled idly. You tossed your phone back on your bed, not caring if Peter was still on-call.
You opened your closet, heart pounding. The dread that had steadily been building for the past week felt like it was finally coming to a head as you reach for your jewelry box. The lid creaked as you opened it.
Your ring was gone.
Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as you stared at where it should be, retracing your steps from the last time you saw it- you could have sworn it was in there the night before.
You placed the box back in its place and closed the closet door, and returned to your bed and picked up your phone.
"Believe me now?" Peter said cheekily, but something felt off.
"I could have sworn it was in my jewelry box last night," you commented, but Peter just hummed.
"Aw, it's okay, cutie. I know how forgetful you can be sometimes."
There was a slight pause as you thought of a way to respond. Peter beat you to it, though.
"You should come by and pick it up. I would offer to go to you, but I have some homework to finish," Peter said, trying to sound nonchalant, but his face was intense.
"That's not a good idea, Peter. You know that." Your gut was screaming at you that this was a terrible idea.
"Just because we broke up doesn't mean we have to be strangers. Besides, it'll only take a few minutes. You get the ring and leave. Please?" He held the ring in view as if a bribe. Despite your nerves, though, you loved that ring, and you wanted it back.
"Fine. I'll see you soon." You didn't wait for Peter to respond before you ended the call. Your intuition was screaming at you to say screw the ring, leave it there, but it held too much sentimental value. You didn't bother to change out of your pajamas, just sliding on a pair of shoes and headed out of the door.
Walking the streets of New York at night was scary enough as is, but add being a woman on top of that made it terrifying. Yet tonight it felt like it was a ghost town despite the others walking down the street. You could feel a pair of eyes following you, but every time you turned around, there was no one there. You picked up the pace.
The walk to Peter's apartment was relatively short, only taking about fifteen minutes to get there. The usual walk up to his apartment was usually exciting- getting to see Peter after being away was always a treat. Now, it made your heart sink.
You stopped at his door and fought the desire to turn around and leave. You couldn't ignore the sinking feeling anymore- something was wrong, but you had nothing to prove that.
Finally, you raised your hand to knock, but your knuckle barely left the wood before Peter ripped the door open. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes met his. Even though you two were broken up, you still loved him. Something about seeing him again soothed an ache you didn't realize you had.
"Hey," Peter said softly as he leaned against the doorframe. He offered you a gentle smile and put his hands in his pockets.
"Hi," you responded, not knowing where to take the conversation. You looked away awkwardly and rocked back and forth on your toes.
"So um... can I have my ring?" you asked as your eyes flickered back to Peter. He hadn't bothered to look away.
"Of course. Come in." Peter straightened and began to walk back inside.
"No, it's okay. You can bring it out to me."
Peter turned to look at you, and his eyes chilled you to the bone. It was the same look he'd give you when you'd said something he disproved of. You unconsciously stepped inside, and you couldn't help but feel butterflies in your tummy as Peter rewarded you with a sweet smile as he closed the door behind you.
"It's in my room." Peter didn't even look back to make sure you followed, trusting that you were. And he was right to think that; you obediently trailed after him.
He led you to his opened door, and you stood dumbly in his doorway. You watched as Peter grabbed what you assumed to be the ring off of his dresser.
When he turned to you, he gestured for you to sit on the bed. "I'll give the ring back to you on one condition."
Your eyes widened as your blood ran cold. You were so close to saying screw the ring and run out without looking back, but if Peter really wanted you to stay, there was no way you could fight him.
You complied and quickly sat down on his bed. You could feel Peter eying you as you moved. His bed creaked as you sat down, the same bed that you'd spent countless nights cuddle together in, watching movies until the sunrise. The same bed where Peter told you he wanted to marry you. The same bed that you wanted to lose your virginity in.
You couldn't help but stiffen as Peter sat down beside you, back pin-straight as he turned towards you. He looked similar to how your father did when he had a serious talk with you.
"I didn't just ask you to come over for the sake of your ring, but I know you know that. You're so smart it amazes me," Peter gushed as he reached for your hands. You tried to pull them away, but his grip tightened around your fingers to the point where he was squeezing them together.
"Peter, that hurts," you whispered pathetically. His grip immediately loosened, but it was still strong enough that your fingers were stuck in his.
"I'm sorry, baby. You know I'd never hurt you, right? That I'll always protect you?" he asked, turning even more so your knees touched.
You nodded numbly, though you didn't really put any thought into your movements, just trying to keep him from getting angry. You've seen him annoyed, but never truly angry, and never at you. You don't want to now.
"That's good, sweetie. I love you too much to ever do anything that wasn't in your best interest."
His words held a deeper meaning, something that you picked up on.
"What do you mean?" Your voice was so small. You were almost afraid that if you spoke too loudly, it'd break whatever facade Peter was putting on.
"I'm saying that everything I do is for you, whether you realize it or not. There are people out there who say my love for you is controlling and obsessive, but they're wrong. Our love is the purest, best thing that could have ever happened to us." Peter's voice started to break the more he talked, and it took everything within you not to try and brush away any tears that fell. His grip on your hands wouldn't allow that.
"But it's not healthy, Peter. You know that."
"And why not?" he shot back. "Because everyone else said it was?"
"Yes but- no- Peter-"
"Please don't interrupt me, princess. I'm not done." Peter suddenly yanked on your hands, pulling you into his lap.
You squeaked as you fell into him. You pushed against is chest, but Peter had wrapped his arms securely around your waist.
"Peter, please, let me go." Your eyes stung as your mind warred over wanting to get away from him and sinking further into his embrace. The heat of his body was both sickening and comforting at the same time. Your mind was screaming at you to shove him away while your heart ached to sink into his arms.
"I know that's not what you want, baby. It's what they want you to think," Peter said as he countered against your logic.
Your heart lept to your throat as he swung you around to lay you back against his sheets. You squealed at the sudden movement and clutched onto the fabric of his shirt to steady yourself. Peter planted his forearms on either side of your head as settled himself between your spread legs, his crotch flush against yours, effectively caging you in. You gasped as you felt his hardened cock pressed against your clothed clit.
"Peter, no- we can't!" you cried. You pushed against his shoulders, but his muscles didn't even shift underneath your hands.
"And why not? You used to beg me to fuck you." Peter panted as he punctuated his sentence with a harsh thrust and grind against your cunt. "You used to beg and beg me to just fuck you into the mattress not even a month ago, angel. Don't you remember? I do. I remember having to say no to your pretty little face."
"Peter-" you'd never heard him talk like that. You'd never seen him so feral, or his eyes hold such a crazed light.
"What, princess? Am I wrong?" Peter countered. He pushing himself up to look down to where your bodies met and watched as he pumped his hips harder into yours.
You couldn't respond at the sudden onslaught of pressure, you could only cry out in distress. Your hips involuntarily bucked up against his. Peter choked out a moan as he tossed his head back in pleasure.
"You feel so good, sweetie. Fuck," he whimpered, the darkness from before nowhere to be seen. He dropped back down and slammed his lips against yours, capturing your mouth in a sloppy kiss that was mainly tongue and teeth.
You gagged a little when he wormed his tongue between your lips and shoved it in the back of your throat, moaning at your taste. Peter swirled his tongue around yours, his saliva filling your mouth. He gently coaxed your tongue into his mouth and suckled.
It felt almost natural to reciprocate his advances. You softly moaned as his lips caressed his harshly, your teeth clinking against his. Disgust flared through you, but so did a shameful warmth between your thighs. You had dreamed of this- of your relationship with Peter growing into a physical one- you just wished it was under different circumstances.
Your mouths broke away with an audible pop, and both of you were left panting. Peter's attention shifted to your neck, where he nibbled on the flesh of your throat.
You mewled as his tongue flicked against your skin, that same disgust prickling at your eyes as tears began to gather. Your hands began desperately pushing against Peter's broad shoulders as you sobbed.
"Stop! Peter, stop!" you cried, your fight or flight response kicking in. Your brain warred with itself- one side wanted to give in, to let Peter back into your life. But the other half, the logical part, knew to resist. Peter was trying to take advantage of you, and by the way things were going, he would. He could easily overpower you.
The same anger from before flared again as Peter suddenly sank his teeth into the delicate skin of your throat, making you cry out in pain. He grabbed a tight hold of your wrists and slammed them against the headboard.
His teeth ripped away from your throat, his eyes insane as they met yours. You whimpered both in pain and fear as you tried to sink away from him, but there was nowhere for you to go.
"I didn't want to do this, but you leave me no choice."
A cool, sticky substance covered your wrists, and you looked up to see Peter's webs cementing your wrists to the headboard. You cried out as you tugged on the silk, but you knew it was pointless.
"Please, let me go! You're scaring me!"
Peter's hips stilled, the coldest of his eyes bleeding away into a look of concern. His hands drifted from where they were grasped around your wrists to your face, gently cupping your cheeks. He pressed his forehead against yours as he stared into your eyes.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Peter whispered as he peppered little kisses against your cheeks and licked away your tears. His thumbs brushed against the skin of your cheekbones and wiped away what he couldn't kiss away. "I didn't mean to scare you, angel. I love you so much. I'm so sorry."
You looked at him with watery eyes, hoping to communicate the distress he was causing you.
Peter shifted his head to connect your lips in another kiss, this one more gentle than the first- no teeth or tongue, but the soft brushing of his lips over yours. His hands left your face to skim down your body, his touch so light you barely noticed.
Peter's fingers began to toy with the hem of your shirt where he stroked the skin of your stomach. You pulled away from the kiss and shook your head.
"We can't."
"Yes, we can. Just give in, sweetie, I know you want to," Peter said, his lips twisting into a twisted yet sweet smile.
He shifted back onto his haunches, his hands pushing your shirt up your stomach despite your protests. Peter groaned at the sight of your bare chest and stuffed the fabric under your chin. You whimpered as you tilted your head back to accommodate.
"I have such a pretty baby. Don't I, angel?" Peter asked though it was mainly to himself. His hands abandoned your shirt, deciding to drift down to your breasts. His fingers caress the tips of your nipples, the touch feather-light.
You whimpered at the slight stimulus, and Peter's eyes flickered up to look at your face.
"You like that, sweetie?" he brushed his fingers harder against your nipples. You couldn't help the sudden gasp that you let out when he tweaked on of them, and he smiled devilishly.
"Oh, you do, princess," Peter chuckled. He dipped his head down and flicked one of your peaks with the tip of his tongue before enveloping it with his mouth.
You sharply cried out as his teeth toyed with the thin flesh. Peter moaned around the bud, and the vibrations tickled the nerves in your breast.
His tongue swirled around the pebble before barely clamping his teeth to the flesh. You squeaked as he worried your nipple between his teeth, his hands idly messing with the hem of your pants.
It was hard to think straight when such pleasure shot through your system, those conflicting thoughts now silent as a bliss-like fog clouded your mind. You barely felt his fingers dip into the waistband of your pants, but you did feel him abruptly yanked your pajamas down your legs. You shrieked as the cool air stung at your legs, and how your lower half was now exposed to Peter.
"No!" you cried as Peter reached out to grab the hem of your panties, kicking your legs to keep him away.
"C'mon, don't be like that baby," Peter whined. He let go of your panties in favor of pulling your thighs apart with little effort. He sat between them to keep you from closing them. "Please be good. Can you do that for me?"
You shook your head and turned away, and you looked at the door longingly. The haze over your mind lifting the closer his wandering hands got to your pussy.
"I just want to make you feel good, sweetheart. Is that too much to ask?"
"Yes!" you screeched. "We're not even together anymore, and you're literally trying to rap-"
Peter shot up your body and slammed his hand over your mouth. His lips were set in a firm line and his eyes narrowed. "I am not like that, and you know it. I'm doing this because I love you."
Peter looked at you with a faraway look, one where his eyes glazed over. His hand shifted to squish your cheeks, your lips puckering. He leaned down and snaked his tongue into your mouth, covering your teeth with his spit. When he pulled away, he slipped two of his fingers inside. Peter pressed them against your tongue, keeping it in place.
"Get these nice and wet, baby?" Peter asked sweetly, as if you could answer. His digits slide further into your mouth, where he ended up triggering your gag reflex. A fresh wave of spittle coated his fingers, and when he pulled them from your mouth, a shiny string of drool kept you connected.
That string broke when Peter's hand pulled away and towards your panties. He latched his mouth back over yours as he slipped his wet fingers under the thin fabric and swallow any protests.
You whimpered into the kiss as his fingers skimmed over your folds, effectively spreading your saliva over them, though it wasn't really needed. Despite your previous protests, you were soaked.
"Fuck, you're so wet for me," Peter whispered, his voice breathy. His fingers dipped between your folds, your slick mixing with your spit.
You felt one of Peter's fingers circle your entrance and barely dipped the tip inside. You clamped your legs shut around his hands, but since his hand was already flush with your pussy, you just drew him closer.
"Desperate, cutie?" he groaned. He suddenly pushed one of his fingers inside, making you cry out at the intrusion.
You were no stranger to pleasure- almost every night you'd bury three of your fingers in your pussy- but his fingers were so much longer and thicker than yours. You could feel a slight stretch as his finger pumped into you.
"You're so fucking tight, angel," Peter moaned as he felt your pelvic muscles flutter around his digit. "I'm going to make you feel so good."
Peter slipped in another finger and pumped it alongside the first. With each thrust, he'd push out another moan from you, which he'd answer with one of his own. He spread his fingers, thoroughly stretching you, and left you a mewling mess.
Whatever fight you had left was quickly leaving your body the closer to orgasm you got. Your hips bucked up into his hand, humping into his palm as your mouth hung open.
"I'm gonna cum!" you whined as your body began to twitch. Peter suddenly stopped and audibly slipped his fingers from your cunt. He sat upon and placed himself between your splayed out legs and grabbed the hem of your panties.
Instead of taking them off, he yanked, tearing them away from you. Before you could even protest, three of Peter's fingers plunged back inside of you, and his lips suctioned around your clit.
You screamed as his tongue flicked your clit back and forth, the edge of release within sight. You couldn't even make complete sentences as Peter sucked on your clit and curled his fingers into that fleshy patch of your walls. All you could see was stars.
"I can feel you twitching on my fingers, sweetheart. Are you going to cum, for me?" Peter asked, his voice thick with lust. He didn't even sound like himself.
You glanced at him with hazy eyes, and you dully noted the slick that soaked his face. Your words still failed you- the best you could manage was a breathy uh-huh.
"Be a good girl and cum for me? C'mon, be the good girl I know you are." Peter's actions increased tenfold.
His mouth left you clit in exchange for your lips, and you could taste your slick on his tongue as it slipped into your mouth. His fingers pounded against you, the soft pap of his hand smacking your mound echoing alongside your breathless moans.
As your orgasm licked at your toes, a white-hot heat enveloped your body. "Peter!-"
"Cum, baby, cum!" Peter's thumb shifted to smash against your clit, rubbing it roughly. You needed no other encouragement to fall over the edge.
You screamed as you came. Your legs quaked uncontrollably as your orgasm washed over you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, and you could vaguely hear Peter guiding you through your release.
As the buzz of your orgasm began to settle and Peter's slick-coated fingers left your sensitive cunt, you heard the rustling of fabric, following by a groan. You briefly opened your eyes to see Peter fisting his cock with his soaked fingers, spreading your juices along his shaft. Even though you didn't have much to compare him to, he was about average length, but thick. His fingers barely encircle him.
"Are you ready, sweetie?" Peter asked as he climbed back between your legs, and pressed his cock between your pussy lips. The sudden stimulus shocked your body, making you involuntarily convulse.
A small bit of that disgust worked back into your mind but was gone just as soon as it came. Peter leaned down for another kiss and guided his tip to your entrance.
"Ready?" he asked, puppy eyes activated. You nodded numbly and accepted Peter's kiss when he leaned down.
You gasped as Peter began to breach your opening. There was slight discomfort, but nothing you couldn't handle. The pressure was like nothing you'd ever felt before. You'd never felt so full.
"Oh fuck!" Peter groaned, his cock slipping further still. You could feel each inch sink into your pussy, and with each inch you took, the fuller you felt.
When Peter's hips pressed flush with you, you couldn't help the broken moan you let out. Peter fell down to his forearms, caging your head between them. His lips crashed down against yours, his tongue invading your mouth.
You sloppily suckled his tongue, pulling him deeper into your mouth. You whimpered when he pulled back and tried to follow him.
Peter shushed you and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. "Don't worry, baby. I got you." He looked down to look at where you two were connected and moaned. "You took me so well, angel. Can I move?"
"Please," you mumbled, your brain still mush from your previous orgasm.
You mewled as his hips began to pump, barely pulling out before sliding back home and grinding against you clit. Peter repeated this motion until you spurred him on, your thighs bracketing his hips and squeezing.
"Faster," you pleaded. You desperately tried to buck your hips to take him deeper, but he was pressed so tightly to you that you couldn't move.
Peter immediately obliged, and he whispered in a hoarse voice, "Anything for my baby." Peter began to slam into yours, his thrusts were audible.
Your cries of pleasure mixed with his praises of how good your pussy felt, how much he loved you. He shifted so he held on your legs of his shoulder, the other in the crook of his elbow so he could watch his dick pound into you.
"Such a good fucking girl, aren't you? Letting me show you how much I love you," Peter grunted, his teeth clenched. The sweat beading on his forehead began to drip down to your pussy, and the salt mixed with your slick.
The sudden need to touch Peter overwhelmed you, giving you a new life to struggle against his webs. You cried as you became desperate, desperate to feel his skin.
"Let me touch you!" you slurred, and you're half surprised Peter understood you. He quickly reached over to his nightstand and pulled out a pair of scissors, and snipped the webs. In the same motion, he ripped through the fabric of your shirt.
As soon as your wrists were free, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Your teeth latched onto the skin of his neck and left large purple hickeys against his skin.
"Fuck!" Peter yelled as you rolled his flesh between your teeth, his rough pounding gaining power. His thrusts were jostling you on the bed, to the point where Peter had to put his hand on the wall to keep you grounded.
"I'm gonna cum!" you said for the second time, the telltale signs of your orgasm building growing stronger. Peter groaned as your pussy pulsed around his cock. He jackhammered into you, deadset on making you cum.
"Me, too," he panted. "Cum with me, baby? Let's cum together."
You couldn't hold it anymore, your orgasm washing over you with a loud scream. Your climax set off Peter, as seconds later, you felt the warmth of his cum fill you. The tiny rational part of your brain reminded you that you weren't on any birth control, but it was pushed away as your pussy twitched around Peter's cock.
Peter recovered from his orgasm much faster than you, but he stayed inside you while you calmed down. He rolled over so you could lie on his chest and idly stroked your hair.
"You know you're mine, right baby?" Peter asked after a few minutes of silence.
The severity of your situation began to dawn on you at his words. You could feel his cum began to trickle out of you and drip on the bed.
Regardless, though, you pushed away those thoughts, leaving them for another time. You settled your head in the hollow of his neck and nodded, and placed a kiss to his pulse.
"I love you."
Peter's grip on your tightened, his arms almost suffocating, but you wouldn't have it any other way.
"I love you too, princess. Always."