Work Text:
I know
Quietly, Peter lifted himself up onto the windowsill, balancing only for a moment before carefully allowing himself to hop off the aging wood and onto the floor. Casting a quick glance behind him, he noticed how you shivered after only a few moments of being exposed to the chilly night air. Silently, he shut the window with a barely audible click, the padding of his fingers acting as a cushion for the normally noisy pane and dampening the sound.
He turned back towards you; his footsteps soft as he made his way towards the unoccupied section of your bed. His section of your bed.
Gently, so as not to rouse you, Peter lifted the sheets and shuffled in behind you. The bed let out a soft creak beneath his weight, but instead of stirring, you scooted backwards and closed the distance between you and him, pressing your body tight against his.
He savored the moment for only a minute before he recalled the events of the day.
Of you on a date with them.
You belong
His fingertips danced along your hip, teasing the fabric that rested over your delicate skin. You let out a soft murmur, your backside flush against his crotch as you cooed over the sensation. Could they make you feel this way?
Even in his mind, he spat out their pronouns like vile garbage. Fitting.
His hand gently crept further up, this time toying with the oversized nightshirt you wore. His fingers glided along the hem, lingering for only a second before he abandoned the warm shirt for your heated body. Undeserving.
His fingers pressed along your skin and his pants began to strain as you let out a set of soft coos and gentle hums. His heart raced as he paused his ministrations only to free his cock before he returned his hand to where it belonged under your shirt. He wasn’t going to waste any time tonight.
Using his hips, Peter guided his cock so that it rested between your legs. The pajama pants you wore added some unnecessary friction, but he could still feel your warmth against his throbbing erection. His fingers slid further up until they were cupping the base of your breast, squeezing and groping the soft, malleable skin.
To somebody new
He let out a husky groan as your legs clenched, surrounding his cock with your warm thighs. As carefully as he could, Peter began to thrust against you. His teeth gnashed as he felt the full force of his diminishing restraint, but your soft little moans and pleased whimpers made it all worth it.
I’m the only one who can make you sound like this, Y/N. And only me. His hand palmed your breast needily, fingers tracing over your erect nipple. His other hand twitched, desperate to just pull your back onto his chest so that it could avail itself to the other breast.
“Mmm..” Your mouth gaped open slightly, allowing the full melody of your harmonious moan to reach his ears.
Peter let out a soft hiss, his hips rocking as hard against yours as he dared. “Fuck!” He whispered, his teeth sinking deep into his tongue as he fought the urge to just rip off your clothes and take you right there.
But tonight
His breath came out in shuddery, desperate gasps. He buried his face in your mattress to try and stifle the sounds, but as his hand dropped dangerously low from your breast, sinking towards the waistband of your pants, the sounds he made only got louder.
His fingers dipped underneath your underwear, brushing over your soft curls and reaching lower until he could feel your wet heat. He tested and teased, thrilled at how little fabric he could feel between your pussy and his cock.
His eyes narrowed as he tried to restrain himself and his voice came out in a harsh whisper.
“Fuck, I don’t care who you think you belong with. Or to.”
You belong
"To me" Peter grunted as his cum stained the inner seam of your pajama pants. “You’re mine, Y/N. And you’re only ever going to be mine.”
Peter convulsed behind you as he climaxed. His fingers continued to glide along your slit and tease at your soaked entrance.
His breath came out in hot waves. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand out of your pants. Briefly, he thought of collecting the cum between your thighs and smearing it along your slit, of pumping it into you, but he refrained. He could tell that you weren’t sleeping as deeply as you were when he slipped into your room. Sorrowfully, he leaned in close and whispered, "You will always be-"
Placing a gentle kiss on the outer shell of your ear, Peter left you with one more word before begrudgingly taking his exit.
“Mine.”