Nyla

It started when you were nine. He was eleven.

Your brother, James, had invited his new friends over during the holiday break. He was excited to have made such good friends during his first year at Hogwarts, and he explained to your parents that one friend in particular preferred not to return home if he didn’t need to, and your parents were happy to host.

James introduced Sirius, Remus, and Peter to your parents, barely taking the time to introduce them to you. He quickly said “and that’s my sister,” and walked away, the boys following suit. Sirius, however, gave you a smile before walking away, his longer, dark hair falling slightly in front of his face. You returned his smile and blushed.

When you were eleven and he was thirteen, you were sorted into Hufflepuff during the sorting ceremony, and James sighed in relief that he wouldn’t have to deal with you being in the same house as him. You looked to his table to wave at him, but he turned away when he saw you, embarrassed by his little sister. Sirius, however, returned the wave.

When you were thirteen and he was fifteen, the Marauders hosted a party at the beginning of term, and you snuck in, desperate to be included. Fifth years were already drinking, but you weren’t ready to. James and Remus tried to pressure you into drinking, but Sirius ripped the bottle out of your hand and downed its entire contents in one large gulp. “Oops,” he shrugged, “guess she can’t drink it if it’s all gone.” You gave him a small smile as a thank you, and he gave you a nod.

Later that same year, when you heard the news that Sirius took Alice Fortescue’s virginity, and she was bragging about it, you felt a drop in the pit of your stomach. You were envious. You assumed Sirius got girls, he was much too gorgeous and confident not to, but hearing it spoken of make it so real, and it hurt. You liked him, and you were jealous.

When you were fifteen and he was seventeen, you were all at a party in Ravenclaw house, seated in a gigantic group of truth or dare.

“Truth or dare, Potter?” Dorcas asked, taking a hit of the blunt between his fingers.

“Dare, obviously,” you responded.

Dorcas let out a chuckle. “I dare you to make out with Black over here.”

You could feel the blush rise to your cheeks. You turned toward Sirius, who was nonchalantly slumped over on the couch. He was always so casual, as if nothing ever phased him. He took a drag from his cigarette, tapping the butt down on a tray as he blew out the smoke, then dropping the cigarette down and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“No,” James interrupted, an amused chuckle leaving his lips, “she’s not doing that.”

You shot him a look.

“You’re not kissing my best friend. Sorry, sis,” he told you.

“Game’s got rules,” Sirius shrugged.

James glared at him. “This is disgusting, I can’t watch this.”

Sirius stood up and approached where you were sat cross-legged on the rug, dropping to his knees to meet your gaze.

“Do you accept the dare?” he nearly whispered, leaning his face toward yours.

You swallowed nervously, nodding your head yes as Sirius leaned in even more, tilting his head slightly to plant a soft kiss on your lips.

You reciprocated, your lips moving in unison as Dorcas teased you by cheering you on. Desperate to appear confident and in control, you tangled your fingers through Sirius’s hair, pulling him even closer to you as you deepened the kiss for a moment. He was so good at it, but you were hyper aware of the eyes on you, so you pulled away, dropping your hand from the back of his head.

Sirius remained close to you for a moment, exchanging a glance as he caught his breath.

“Okay, enough, enough, gross,” James said, pulling Sirius’s shoulder until he moved away from you.

The next morning, James was not happy with you as he caught up to you walking down the hall. “Can’t believe you kissed Sirius,” he said, jogging to reach your side.

“It was truth or dare, James, don’t be a baby,” you replied.

“You still got a thing for him, huh?” he teased, bumping your shoulder.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” you said, shifting your books in your arms.

“Oh, come on, you really think I can’t see it?”

You stopped short and turned to your brother. “What do you want, James?”

“I’ll tell you what I don’t want, and that’s for you to get all worked up over this. I know you’ve got a little crush on him, but Sirius isn’t that kind of guy. I just don’t want you to get yourself attached over a stupid game when, in reality, it’ll never happen.”

“Are you so defensive because you care about my feelings or because you don’t want me to like your best friend?” you retorted, slightly annoyed by James’s statement.

“Just keep your distance, okay? For both of our sakes,” he said, turning away from you to dip through one of the open classroom doors.

When you were sixteen and he was eighteen, you walked in on Sirius with another girl.

One of your friends let you into the Gryffindor common room in search of James. Your mother had sent for both of you, asking you to visit your father during a tumultuous week for his health. He was alright, but was in hospital, and your Heads of House had approved for both you and James to be absent for one week in order to visit him.

“James!” you called up the staircase, but to no avail. Classes were finished for the day, and Remus and Peter were seated at a table in the common room reading, so he wasn’t out with his friends.

You muttered to yourself, “…always fucking ignores me…” as you marched up the staircase, impatient at his constantly disregard for you as you swung the door to his dormitory open, and that’s when you saw Sirius and Mary McDonald. It was a genuine accident.

Mary squealed and pulled the sheets over her body, while Sirius simply pulled out of her, standing tall despite his nakedness, and turning to you as he, in no rush, picked his underwear up off the floor.

“Can we help you?” he asked, jumping into the fabric and running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.

You were speechless. You were embarrassed by the act you had just witnessed, mad at Mary due to your jealousy, and completely enamored by the sight of of Sirius, first naked, and now in nothing but his boxers, his body glistening from sweat.

“I- I was looking for James, but I can see he’s not here, so-“ you quickly turned and shut the door behind you, pausing for a moment to take a deep breath. Taking a moment was a mistake, because Sirius swung the door open before you could escape down the staircase.

“He’s joined a study group in the library,” Sirius spoke, “promised to tutor some classmates in Transfiguration or some shit.”

You avoided making eye contact with Sirius, nodding your head and thanking him for the information as you moved to the first step of the staircase, but Sirius caught your wrist, pulling your attention back to him.

“Whatcha need him for, anyway?” he asked.

“Family stuff,” you responded, barely loud enough for Sirius to hear.

Sirius nodded. “You gave Mary in there a right good scare, Potter.”

“Right, well, sorry,” you responded, your jealousy allowing you to mask confidence in your voice. As hot as he looked, you felt angry. You knew it was irrational, but you were a sixteen year old girl, and you were jealous.

You got down five steps before Sirius spoke again. “We aren’t together, you know.”

You stopped short and turned your body up the stairs. “Why would I care?” you spoke, retreating down the rest of the steps and out of the common room to collect yourself and find your brother.

“Where’s Prongs?” Sirius asked the next morning, confused as to why only he and Remus were present in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“Had to go see his dad, apparently he’s not feeling too good,” Remus explained, “his mom freaked out and had him come visit.”

Sirius nodded to gesture he was listening. “Y/N too?”

Remus furrowed his brows as he looked at Sirius. “I guess? I didn’t ask, didn’t think it mattered.”

Sirius diverted his attention to opening his book to the right page, eager to change the subject now that Remus was looking at him weird.

You and James returned in a week, arriving back to the castle early enough in the day to catch the midday break and the second block of classes.

You walked down the hallway with your brother, who caught up to his friends and gave them all a greeting. You and Sirius locked eyes, and you immediately blushed and sped away.

“The fuck was that about?” James asked, picking up on your unusual behavior.

“Probably just all weirded out now that she’s seen Sirius’s dick,” Remus joked, bumping Sirius’s shoulder playfully. James’s eyes widened as he looked at Sirius.

“Pardon?”

“It’s nothing, mate, she just walked in on me right before you guys left,” Sirius explained, trying to sound as calm and collected as possible.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“What’s the big deal?” Sirius responded.

James took a deep breath. “Can you just, like, keep your distance?”

“What, from your sister?” Sirius asked for clarification.

“Yeah, from my sister,” James half-spat, “you can’t truly be so thick, Sirius. You know she likes you.”

He did not know.

James continued, “I love you, mate, but please not her. Seriously. Fuck around with whoever you want, just not my little sister. Anyone else.”

Sirius understood. “Who said I wanted to fuck your sister anyways?”

His phrasing only bothered James more. “I’m not kidding, Sirius. Not my little sister.”

Sirius threw his hands up. “Okay, jeez, I get it, I’ll keep my distance.”

When you were seventeen and he was nineteen, you met your first real boyfriend.

Evan was your age, a fact that thrilled James. You began to spend most of your time together, and you invited him to tag along to your brother’s extravagant New Year’s party.

When the clock struck midnight on January 1st, Evan wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed you, a move that turned your relationship from friendly but flirty to something much more. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you smiled as you pulled away, giving him another small kiss before he released your body from his own to grab the shot glass being handed to him by his friends.

You laughed as you watched him nearly choke on the shot. In a daze of laughter, your eyes caught Sirius, who was leaning against an empty doorframe across the room, drinking from a bottle and staring directly at you. You maintained eye contact for a moment, waiting to see if he would give you any sort of visual explanation as to why he was looking at you, but he didn’t move.

You still liked him, sure, but you liked Evan, too, and it had been six years. You couldn’t just pine after your brother’s best friend forever and not explore the perfectly good option directly in front of you.

In March, you gave your virginity to Evan. He was kind, and you were sure you were ready.

Sirius was acting weird around you, always finding an exit the moment you entered a conversation or a room he was in. You confronted James about it, and got into a rather heated argument about how James had no right to tell Sirius to stay away from you.

In June, James and your parents officially invited Sirius to live with you for the summer. It was brutal; Sirius was always around.

You would sneak into the kitchen first thing in the morning to make coffee the way you liked it, before anyone else could get their hands on the pot, and Sirius would be there. You would go to brush your teeth before bed, and Sirius would be brushing his hair in the bathroom mirror.

The worst part: Sirius spent most days poolside. Shirtless.

He enjoyed lounging out in the sun after a good swim, the water making his body glisten in the natural light as he adjusted his sunglasses, his dark hair slicked back from the wetness.

You stared at him from your second story window, admiring just how beautiful he truly was. He was so effortlessly perfect.

You considered joining him outside several times, but knew you would only be doing it so wear a bathing suit around him and hopefully tease him, if you even had the power to do so, and that wasn’t fair to Evan, but what the hell, it was your pool anyway.

You put on your bathing suit, draping a towel over your arm as you stepped outside, snapping Sirius out of his thoughts as he turned to you.

“Mind if I join?” you asked, slowly stepping into the water.

“It’s your house,” Sirius responded.

You swam a few laps before leaving the water, making a show of drying off your hair. Sirius kept his sunglasses on so that you couldn’t see him watch you, careful to heed James’s request to keep his distance from you, but he couldn’t help himself, you looked too good wet.

In October, you and Evan broke up. He was beginning to run with a crowd you didn’t want anything to do with, and you were gradually growing apart.

When you were eighteen and he was twenty, the Marauders hosted another party in honor of Peter’s twenty-first birthday. They were all staying at the unoccupied house of a mutual friend, and had more than enough space to go all out for the occasion. James invited you, having grown to appreciate you as a friend as you two got older.

“What a fucking dress,” Sirius said, leaning his back on the wall next to you.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to say shit like that to me?” you said, lightheartedly.

“Then don’t dress like that,” he said, eyes scanning up and down your body.

You blushed and dropped your head to hide it.

“Can you meet me upstairs in five?” Sirius asked.

You nodded your head yes without a second thought, giving him ample time to get upstairs alone before you left, so as not to raise suspicion. Your heart was pounding out of your chest.

You didn’t know what room he was in, having not thought that far ahead when he asked for you to meet him, so you lightly rapped your knuckles on every door until Sirius opened one, pulling you inside and softly clicking the door shut behind you.

“What’s up?” you asked, innocently.

Sirius smiled at you. “You’re not seriously asking me that.”

You were dumbfounded. There was no way Sirius called you up here for the reason you hoped he did. Absolutely no way.

“You like me, don’t you?” he asked, stepping closer to you.

“What? No, Sirius, why are you even-“

“You’re a big girl now, Y/N, we aren’t ten anymore. You have to tell me what you want.”

You swallowed back your nerves. “James is right downstairs.”

Sirius stepped even closer to you, grabbing your waist with his hand, “James doesn’t ever have to know.”

You gazed up at him. “I just-“ your voice trailed off. You didn’t know what to say.

“You want me?” Sirius asked, dipping his head to meet your lowered gaze.

“Maybe,” you giggled.

Sirius smiled, leaning back slightly to look you up and down, “cus I want you.”

You sighed and smiled due to your nervousness. “You never wanted me before.”

“Not true,” Sirius immediately defended himself, “the second I started to show it, your idiot brother made me promise to stay away from you.”

“What changed?”

“This dress, for starters,” he answered, “and the fact that James got wasted about forty minutes ago and is probably passed out by the pool right now. I can never get you alone.”

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. “I’ve had a crush on you since I was like nine.”

“When we met over the holiday, right?” Sirius replied.

You looked at him in amazement. “How did you know that?”

“I was there, silly,” he teased, “and because I remember those things. James didn’t actually introduce us, but you still smiled at me.”

“I can’t believe you remember that,” you spoke in disbelief, causing Sirius to smile.

“Please don’t make me wait any longer,” he pleaded, pulling your hips against his and planting a few soft kisses on the side of your neck.

“But what if James-“

“Fuck James.”

You searched his eyes for any sign that he may have not meant what he said, but when you found none, you pulled him into a desperate kiss, anxious to taste him after years of wondering, reminiscing on the kiss you shared on a dare years earlier.

It was better than you could have imagined, his lips moving perfectly in sync with yours as his hands needily grabbed at your hips.

Your hand remained on the back of his head, nervous that without holding him against you, Sirius would pull away. All you wanted was to continue kissing him, forever.

He broke away from you to pepper kisses down your jawline and then down your neck, sucking at a sweet spot about halfway down the length of your throat.

You let out a whimper at the feeling, and Sirius pulled away and looked at you. He grabbed your jaw in his hand, turning your head until you were looking directly at him.

“What?” you breathed out.

Sirius didn’t respond, he just continued to hold onto your jaw, forcing you to tilt your head upwards and give him more access to your neck. His hand moved from your jaw to the other side of your neck, anchoring himself as he sucked and kissed the now bruised skin on your neck. You let out a high pitched whine, and he growled into your neck at the sound.

Each time you made a small noise, Sirius sucked harder, desperate to pull more and more sounds from you.

Sirius backed you up as he kissed you, taking small steps until your back hit the wall, allowing Sirius to pull away and press his body against yours. He took your face in his hands and kissed you hard, pressing his hips into yours and eliciting a moan from you as he began to grind into you.

He pulled back to look into your eyes, watching your body jolt slightly upwards each time he pressed his hips into yours.

“You remember when we kissed during truth or dare?” Sirius asked.

“Mhm,” you responded, breathy.

“I went back that night and touched myself thinking about it,” he told you, one of his hands finding its way to your throat, “thinking about you.”

The confession combined with the feeling of his clothed cock against your clit made you moan. You weren’t aware Sirius ever saw you the way you saw him.

You blushed, but Sirius wasn’t done taunting you. “Have you ever touched yourself and thought of me?”

Your cheeks only turned more red. “I- I-“ you were too embarrassed to answer.

“Tell me,” he demanded, holding your throat against the wall, his breath on your cheek, “or did Evan take good enough care of you?”

You nodded your head no, eager to appease him. “I- I thought of you when I did stuff, even when I was with him.”

Sirius growled at your confession. “Naughty little thing.”

Sirius hoisted one of your legs up to his waist, causing your dress to raise and bunch at your waistline, allowing Sirius access to your most sensitive area.

He ran a finger over your underwear, feeling the wetness soak through. Your back arched from his touch, your lips parting as Sirius ran his finger along the seam, slowly dipping his hand to run his finger between your folds.

“You’re so wet for me,” Sirius cooed, circling his finger around your clit.

You anchored yourself on his shoulders. Sirius’s eyes never left yours as he moved his fingers faster and faster, watching your back arch and your body react to his touch.

He slowly inserted two fingers into your soaking wet hole, setting a slow pace as he fucked you with his fingers.

He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting that particularly good spot within your walls, causing your legs to shake a little.

“Shit,” you whined, your head slamming against the wall the moment you threw it back. Sirius picked up the pace, watching your eyebrows crease in pleasure.

It wasn’t your first time, and you usually lasted longer, but years and years of pent up lusting over Sirius were taking their toll on you. “Sirius, fuck, I-“

“Aweh, gonna come for me already, doll? You like me that much?” Sirius teased.

“Y-yes,” you cried out.

Sirius sped up his actions even further, your climax hitting you as Sirius kissed you to swallow your moans. He pulled his fingers out of you after you came down from your high, locking eyes with you as he sucked your juices off of them. It was the most erotic thing you’d ever seen.

You began to slowly sink down against the wall, but Sirius grabbed your arms and pulled you back up. “Not today,” he stated.

“But-“

“But nothing,” he cut you off, “tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you. Don’t worry about me.”

“But what if I want to worry about-“

“Y/N, shut up.”

“I-“

“You’ve spent ages giving your attention to me. Let me repay the favor.”

You took a deep breath. “Okay,” you agreed.

“Now tell me what you want.”

You were embarrassed, and aroused by the dominance you had always daydreamed Sirius had in the bedroom. Looking up at him, him standing over you and demanding you tell him what you want, made you feel like the little girl that was so in awe of him the very first time you saw him.

“I want you,” you spoke.

Sirius smiled. “Good girl, but that’s not enough.”

“Please don’t make me say it,” you begged.

Sirius only looked at you expectantly, as if to say that he was, indeed, going to make you say it. You took a deep breath, and you could feel the heat in your cheeks. You were in the brink of having Sirius the way you had always wanted, and you were not going to let yourself get in your own way.

“I want you to fuck me, Sirius. Please.”

Sirius growled and pulled you over to the bed, pushing you down and crawling over you.

He roughly pushed your dress up to your waist, pulling your underwear down your legs and slapping your core. You jolted upward and gasped at the sudden pain.

Sirius unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them, along with his boxers, down. He ran a hand up and down the length of his shaft, poking the head of his cock through your folds.

You whimpered are the contact, and Sirius threw his head back, moving his cock through your folds and allowing for your wetness to lubricate him. The feeling was heavenly, but you needed more.

“Siri-“

The nickname almost drove him into a frenzy. You had never heard anyone call him that, it just came out. He grabbed your wrists, pinning them both above your head with one hand as the other lined his tip up with your entrance. “Fuck, keep calling me that.”

“Siri, please,” you begged, the anticipation nearly killing you.

Sirius gave you a wicked smile, pushing his cock into you until he bottomed out. Your back arched at the sensation, and Sirius took the opportunity to wrap an arm around your waist, holding you flush against him.

“Sirius, shit,” you whimpered. The angle was overwhelming.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Sirius whispered, his voice breathy as he began to push and pull in and out of you. He dropped his head into the crook of your neck, his black hair falling into his face.

Sirius maintained a steady pace for a few moments, allowing you to adjust to his size.

Sirius was putting even more pressure on your wrists with each thrust, leaning his weight onto them as he tried to maintain self control, but you felt so fucking good underneath him. You could see him struggling, trying to keep the slower pace for your sake, but that’s not what you wanted either.

“Siri,” you said, catching his attention as he lifted his head to meet your gaze, “harder.”

“You sure?” he checked.

“Fuck me, Siri, please.”

Your begging was enough for him to let his self control go, pulling your waist even closer to him (and subsequently even higher) as he picked up the pace, snapping his hips against yours with each violent thrust. Sirius let go of your wrists to hold his weight up with an arm next to your head.

He kissed your neck, sucking on a sweet spot just below your earlobe. You whined and moaned, completely wound up in the pleasure you had touched yourself thinking about for so long. You had a crush on Sirius for forever, and finally getting to feel him inside of you, holding you, grunting in your ear, kissing down your neck-

You began to squeeze Sirius’s cock, your second orgasm approaching rapidly as your brain reminded itself how long you had wanted this. The feeling only made Sirius more feral, his thrusts becoming harder and his punic bone hitting your clit with each snap of his hips.

“Sirius, I- I’m-“

“Fuck yes come for me,” Sirius said, fucking you as hard as he possible could.

You came with a loud cry of his name, your thighs shaking as you squeezed around Sirius’s cock.

The feeling was nearly too much for him, but he was determined not to let go yet. He slowed his pace to an excruciatingly slow push and pull as you rode out your high, giving you time to breathe before he started to fuck into you again.

Your body was convulsing beneath him, your juices coating his cock and allowing for even more lubrication, and you could hear the wetness with each hit of his hips.

You were overstimulated, and therefore no longer in control of the high pitched noises leaving your lips, egging Sirius on even more. You were on the brink of crying, it felt so good, and when Sirius heard a cry-like crack in your voice, he rutted his hips into you a final few times before he pulled out of you, cursing as he spilled his seed onto your stomach.

He took a moment to collect himself, pressing his forehead against yours as you both calmed your breathing. He then rolled over to lay down next to you. You turned to face one another, and you began to run your fingers through his hair, twirling a face-framing strand around your pointer as he smiled at you.

You were pulled out of your daze when there was a violent rapping against the door. “Pads! You in there? Open up.”

James.

You scrambled to stand and fix your hair, pulling your dress down and doing your best to keep quiet.

“Whatcha want?” Sirius called back. You glared daggers his direction for responding. “How is he even still standing?” Sirius whispered to you, referencing how drunk James had been earlier.

“You gotta come see this,” James responded, opening the door slightly. You ran behind the door, trying to hide from your brother and hoping he wouldn’t fully enter the room. “Are you at least a little decent? Who you got in here?” James didn’t have a care in the world when he was drunk.

Sirius ran up to the door, a blanket in the hand he held over his bottom half to cover himself. He grabbed the door and prevented James from opening it any further. “No one, what are you tryna show me?”

“At least put pants on,” James said, turning his back to the doorway, “I’ll be out here. Christ, Pads.”

* i do also have schizophrenia and thought i should mention that for the section about the green goblin.

why is ‘personality’ not okay to use when referring to steven, or marc?

the only thing people tend to know about DID is what it was previously known as (multiple personality disorder) this term has since been changed, due to the inaccuracy that the term ‘personality’ has in relation to the disorder. personality is the way that you act and present yourself, to say steven and marc are personalities, or even alter egos would be inaccurate, it is not one person changing the way that they act (or changing their personality), alters in a system are different people, separate from each other, but in the same body. the term personality implies that it is one person that is consciously changing the way they act, but DID is not like that at all. the different alters can have their own personality, but they themselves are not ‘a personality’.

what can i say instead of personality?

alters is the term commonly used for the different people in systems, although there are other terms, such as headmates that some systems prefer. i personally think people should use alters when referring to steven and marc, but never personality/alter ego.

i have seen some people compare norman osborn/green goblin to steven grant and wanted to speak about that too.

norman does not have DID, i’ve tried to research and all i have found that it’s said that norman suffers from a form of schizophrenia and that the formula he created worsened that schizophrenia and brought out the green goblin. i believe the green goblin in some sort of hallucination or delusion, but i couldn’t find any canon evidence, besides a fandom wiki suggesting norman suffers from schizophrenia. schizophrenia and DID do have a lot of overlapping symptoms, so i understand the confusion, however they are both very different and should not be grouped together/compared. DID is a disorder that comes from childhood trauma, to say norman and steven experience the same thing would be incorrect. in norman’s case, the green goblin wasn’t present during his childhood, instead came around later in life, whilst what steven experiences would have been right from childhood.

trigger warnings for DID

i have seen several people put warnings for DID and frankly i see this as unnecessary and ridiculous. i personally find it incredibly dehumanising, as this disorder already has such a bad reputation due to the representation in movies such as split. there is no warning in the show for ‘mentions of DID’, the only mention of DID the show has is in the description of the show. no one that is ‘triggered’ by DID (which they shouldn’t be) would be watching the show, let alone be reading fanfiction about the show. stop putting warnings for DID on your fanfictions. it’s unnecessary and hurtful.

some extra information to help your writing

in a system, alters can have different views on people, not every single alter is going to like the same people, so keep that in mind. if there are people shipping marc and steven (although i do not ship it myself), it is not selfcest or incest at all! alters in a system can have romantic, platonic or familial relationships and it is not selfcest/incest.

my dms are open to questions, along with the comments. feel free to ask any questions and i will try my best to answer them :)

His eyes flashed red and he stormed towards you, causing your eyes to dart towards the floor to avoid eye contact. You didn’t mean what you had just said. “Look at me.” His voice was so deep, traces of hurt, anger and lust in his tone. “Look at me.” He repeated, gripping your jaw and forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark and his face flushed.

“Pete-“ your cut off by his lips crashing against yours, hand pressing into the small of your back to push you closer to him. “Peter-“ You moan into the kiss, melting into him “shut up.” He groans.

He slowly walked backwards towards your bed, laying down and pulling you with him to keep your body on top of his with a hand in your hair, keeping your mouth sealed against his in desperation. You could feel his erection pressed against you and it drove you mad, bucking your hips against his go gain some sort of friction. This caused him growl, his teeth catching your lower lip and his hand in your hair tightening. “Fucking tease.” You let out an involuntary moan as his hand tugged your hair back, exposing your neck and chest to him. “You’re mine.”

You weren’t even fucking and yet you could feel the pleasure growing in the pit of your stomach as his lips attached to your neck and his hips bucked to match yours. “You’re mine. And I’m going to remind you of that.” Suddenly you were flipped over beneath him. His mouth trailing down to the dip in your shirt, kissing your exposed cleavage and fingers dancing under the hem “can this go?”

So polite. “Yes.” You arched your back off the bed slightly, helping him lift the shirt above your head to expose your bare chest. “Fucking.. god you are so beautiful..” his voice was thick with lust while his long fingers traced over your nipples, pinching and tugging gently. “I’m going to make you feel so, so good, (y/n). The way only I can. No one else.” His head dipped down, his tongue flattening against your nipple as his fingers still tugged on the other.

“Peter” a desperate whine left your mouth and his hand left your nipple, wrapping around your throat gently. “Don’t worry baby, we’re getting there.” Your mouth was dry, back arching and the pulsing between your thighs was driving you to almost tears. You needed to be touched. He gave a gentle squeeze on your neck before removing his hand and kissing down your stomach, fingers undoing the button on your shorts. “Lift.” He ordered and you obeyed willingly, so ready for some release.

“Mm” he moaned at the sight of you, a sheer thong covered in wetness. His fingers traced over the top of the underwear, playing with it as he continued kissing down. His mouth landing right where you needed it to be but the stupid fucking underwear stood in the way. His tongue darted out, licking up your slit and you lost all final control you had left. “Fuck me peter, oh my god please.”

He chuckled, looking up at you between your thighs and smirking. “Do these have any value to you?”

“My, my underwear?” He nodded.

“I mean no-“ that’s all he needed to hear before his hands gripped onto them and ripped, exposing yourself to him and you gasped. “Peter!”

“Don’t worry, honey. I’ll buy you new ones. To rip again.” He winked, his fingers pressing against your clit and his tongue finally making contact. Oh. My. God. Every time he went down on your felt like magic. But this time he was so lustful, so needy, so hungry for you that it drove you mad.

“Mine.” He rumbled against your pussy, his mouth sucking and licking.

“Peter- pete- I’m gonna..”

“Cum for me. Let it go baby.” A long finger dipped inside you and you almost screamed as his assault with his mouth and fingers carried on. “FUCK” you yelled, feeling a wave of pleasure wrap around you. Your hand pressing his head against you to keep him in place as you rode out your orgasm against his tongue and fingers. “Peter- Peter fuuuck.”

“That’s my girl. One down, baby.” One?! Your eyes finally snapped open, he was hovering over you, his erection pressing against your wetness, making you whine as he rubbed himself against your clit.

“Tell me who you belong to.”

“Yo- yo- fuck..” forming a sentence was hard when he was dipping the tip inside you, thrusting every so slightly before taking it out again.

“Who do you belong to, (y/n)? Tell me.” He growled, his free hand attaching to your throat again. “Who fucks you into oblivion? Who makes you feel this good?”

“Y-y-you.” You whisper, bucking your hips to try to get his full length in you.

“I can’t hear you, (y/n), whose are you?” His hand tightening around your neck and causing you to moan.

“You! You Peter, I belong to you!” You were nearly crying, desperate for him to make you cum again.”

“That’s what I thought.” He smirked as he shoved his full length into you, making your gasp and arch your back.

His hips bucked against yours, one hand remaining on your throat as the other found its way between your legs and began moving on your clit.

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna”

“Cum on my cock, cum for me.” He gritted through teeth, trying to hold his own orgasm.

That’s all you needed to let go, your legs wrapping around his waist and keeping him locked there, fucking you through your orgasm, your nails scratching down his back.

“Good girl, that’s my girl, cumming all over my cock..”

“PETER!” You screamed out, tightening around his cock and pushing him over the edge with you.

“(Y/n), (y/n), fuck. Oh fuck.” He moaned out, his hips bucking as fast as possible against yours as you felt him cumming. Suddenly making him collapse against you, panting.

The two of you stayed there, neither talking, just trying to regain composure and enjoying the moment you were in. Your fingers ran through his hair and he hummed against your neck where his face was buried, leaving gentle kisses along your skin. “(Y/n).. I have to be honest.. I love you.” Your heart swelled at his comment.

“I love you too, Peter.”

Finally pulling off of you, he rolled over next to you, arms wrapping around you and bringing you to him, chin resting on top of your head. “Sorry for getting jealous.”

“Sorry? I may have to make you jealous more if that’s what I’m going to get..” you joked, looking up at Peter who was smiling and shaking his head at you.

“Next time you do it I’m tying you up with webbing and making you cum til you’re in tears.” Your eyes sparkled with want and love.

“Can’t we do that anyway?” You question, leaning in and nipping his collar bone.

Instinctively, he reached out to the spot beside him, expecting to roll over and be embraced with a warm hug, only to frown when the sheets were cold and his girlfriend out of sight.

With a few bleary blinks, muddled with faint memories of his dream, Peter’s eyes momentarily clenched shut as stretched his limbs, hearing the popping of joints and unravelling knots before he got up with an exasperated sigh.

It was a Saturday morning, and he had no intention of waking up that early, but the bed was cold and empty.

“Peter!”

A strangled plea, desperation, a familiar voice.

A hot flash struck Peter’s body — contrasting with the chill sensation that ran down his spine and collected and pooled deep in his gut.

Jumping out of bed, he grabbed his web-shooters with shaky hands but it felt as if his vision had been disfigured — as if he were staring through a fish-eye lens while attaching them to his wrist.

His chest grew tight and thundered as bile rushed to his throat. Blood rushed into his ears that muffled and encased his head in static noise.

He breathed hard, rushing up to the bedroom door and nearly ripping it off its hinges. Uncertainty bled through every action — the panic coursing through him only amplified the accompanying scream of her name.

Barreling into the living room, his eyes darted to find his girlfriend standing in the centre of the room. Without thought, webs shot out and grabbed her, pulling her back into Peter’s chest before shoving her behind him.

“Where is it? Are you hurt? What happened?” He fired rapidly, arms outstretched wide to broaden his coverage to shield her. His mind reeled into overdrive.

But a second came and went, and the silence prevailed, only for Peter's ragged breath, becoming shorter, sharper, to fill the room.

Hesitantly examining for any trace of the intruder, Peter tossed a look to her, staring into her eyes wide with panic.

“I know you’re scared but you have to tell me. Where did it go?”

Her arm shot up, finger waving mid-air. “Up there!”

About to shoot out another web, Peter paused, blinking in utter disbelief.

Adjacent to them, seated in the far right corner of the wall, unmoving and unthreatening, was a spider — a relatively small one at that. It remained motionless, biding its time in the uncharted territory as its beady eyes leered at them, standing on eight legs.

“Please get it!”

Relaxing and slumping his shoulders, he sighed, licked his lips and burst into a fit of laughter. Peter spun around to cup her face in his hands, slightly shaking her in timing with his speech. “You — argh! I thought something bad happened to you! Don’t. You. Ever. Scare. Me. Like. That!”

But she was preoccupied, focus still stuck on the spider that was now scuffling towards them at a menacing speed that had her wiggling out of his grasp.

“Pete, please!”

He shook his head with a smile and breathless laugh. “You’re scared of the itsy bitsy spider?”

“It’s huge!”

Peter rolled his eyes, gesturing to himself. “You sleep with one every night!”

“Well, my Spidey doesn’t have eight legs and a hundred eyes!” She scoffed as if he was the ridiculous one while pushing him further to the spider. “They’re so ugly! And disgusting — atrocious little creatures!”

“I’m trying really hard not to get offended right now.”

“Can you just kill it already?”

“Kill it?” He exclaimed. “That’s self-murder — suicide!”

Her whining ensued, cowering away as Peter climbed the wall, letting the spider crawl into his hands despite her protest to use a napkin and cup instead.

It was a small common house spider with black and brown fuzz. She no longer bothered with words, only gagging as Peter observed the creature in the palm of his hand. Either way, he found the situation becoming increasingly hilarious as he cracked open the window and let the spider free.

With a yawn, he held out his hand to lead her to the bedroom, yet she refused, sputtering about washing them first.

“Oh come on! You didn’t mind a certain spider’s hands on you last night.”

And with the flattening of her mouth, she rolled her eyes and took his hand. Although reluctantly and with a grimace on her face.

Who knew the beauty of mornings also included capturing spiders?