HEY.....uhm.. your post are great and if it's not much then can you do a post of Peter x y/n. Where they are cuddling and Peter is being all kissy and stuff, and Peter gets irritated a bit that shes been on the phone all day and not looking at "HIM" and wants to be nosey and pushy to check her phone because he a psycho like that, and she's just like babeee sighs, well I guess but your not gunna find anything, 😮💨🥱........
Unnecessary Paranoia | Peter x Reader
Summary: Peter gets all pouty when you don't pay attention to him and focus on your phone instead
Warnings/Tags: Romantic, Fluffy, Slightly Suggestive, yandere, obsessive behavior, yandere with a willing darling, Y/n is a woman in this oneshot
Notes: THANK YOU that means a lot :3
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Peter has you on top of him as you two lay on the couch watching TV, your head resting on his chest and your arms resting on his sides, Peter’s arms wrapped around your waist and holding you close. It’s a rather lazy day for you two and you’re content with spending it cuddling Peter…and more, probably. He’s always rather horny and touchy when it comes to you.
Your phone goes off once again today and you check it. Peter looks down at you and his eyebrows furrow, a frown growing on his lips. Why have you been on your phone so much today? You should be giving him attention instead…
“Darling~” Peter leans down and plants a soft kiss on your neck…then two, then three.
“Hm?” You hum in questioning with a soft smile, tilting your head to give him more access. You don’t look up from your phone, which annoys him.
“Pay attention to me…” He mutters, practically whining like a neglected puppy, which is hilarious considering you were literally just giving him attention five minutes ago.
“One second.” You giggle softly, still on your phone.
He grumbles and pulls away with a slightly irritated look. “Who are you texting?”
You giggle. “No one. I’m reading something.”
“Reading what?”
“Fanfics.”
He raises an eyebrow as a grin replaces his frown, glad you aren’t cheating on him. “Well, what about?”
“Smut.” You say playfully with a grin.
“What? Let me see.” He chuckles and snatches your phone out of your hand, scrolling back up and reading it from the beginning. He’s calmed down from before, now knowing you were just being a nerd like usual. He will search your phone later though when you’re asleep, he can’t be too careful. He doesn’t want you leaving him…
“Hey, I was reading that.” You whine playfully, not even surprised at this point.
“Why are you reading smut when we could just fuck right here and now~?” He purrs as he sets your phone down, leaning back down and kissing your neck once again, nipping at it but not biting down yet.
“Aaaaaand, there it is. I was wondering how long it was gonna take.” You say with a grin.
“C’mon, can you blame me? I need you and I need to be inside of you~” He purrs seductively in an attempt to turn you on. It works, as usual.
Summary: Making the most of a quiet night in, you curl up on the sofa to watch your favourite nature documentaries. Unbeknownst to you, tonight you were someone else's entertainment...
CW: Stalking, predator/prey (primal) dynamic and sexual themes but no actual smut
(Reader is femme but uses gender neutral pronouns)
Dividers by @huraxy
One foot in front of the other.
Each step ached with the weight of a day's work. A throbbing pain that no doubt will spread into a pulsing headache if you don't collapse onto something soft in the next five minutes. You knew it was a risky, even stupid idea to move into a new town for uni before even looking for work first. So desperate to just find something that you didn't stop to think if it was worth it. Something within walking distance. Between shifts and assignments barely a hair's width of room was left for well... life.
Thankfully though, you were nearly home. What counted as "walking distance" was perhaps further out than most would bother with. Between fuel costs, insurance and just plain old being bad at driving, you stubbornly insist on going by bike or foot. Unfortunately though, some twat stole the front wheel of your bike last week. Not the bike, just the wheel! Already the pigeons have made a latrine of your bike where it still stands chained by the bins at the back of Dad's Dang Diner. Wonderful! Granted, you'd been meaning to hit the gym more often but never had the time, so the added exercise of walking there and back is at least a welcome substitute. Although lately it's become more of a jog as autumn dawns and the sun keeps setting sooner and sooner each day. Seems silly, but you can't shake the feeling someone's following you each time you head home...
You've never liked the moments you'd have to stay still, fiddling with keys or fumbling for your wallet. Even before this daunting paranoia set in, you hated how vulnerable you felt. Looking over your shoulder, only to see nothing. Then checking again to be sure, only for the sight of nothing once more making you wonder if you're starting to go mad! Finally you find the right key for your run-down apartment complex and practically fall through the door with how much force you put behind it in your haste. Just as quickly you pivot round to slam the door securely shut, only to immediately regret it as the guilt of disturbing the rest of your neighbors hits you just a second too late. As if to compensate, like silence would cancel out that slam, you tip-toe the rest of the way up to your second-floor apartment. With it being so late, you should have thought to be more considerate but the haze of exhaustion from such a busy day made it hard to think.
You're far more careful with your apartment door. Not just to avoid any further noise, but also out of fear of breaking it. Flimsy plank of MDF that it is. It's a wonder your landlord hasn't managed to crack it even a little with how hard he knocks when rent's overdue. On the plus side, it always gives you time to brace yourself if someone's coming down the hall. A necessity whenever Lucy stumbles back from god know's where...
Sighing, you flick on the kettle and take a moment to stretch out all the tension that had built up throughout the day. One of these days you need to get a proper massage, but money being so tight as it is the thought of it makes your stomach sink with how much splurge like that would shrink your food budget. Lucy may not be able to chip in financially, but if the racket she and her "study buddies" make most days is anything to go by then she may actually do a competent job loosening the knots in your back! How exactly you were going to bring any of this up would be another matter, one you didn't have the energy to mull over and which was immediately forgotten upon the kettle coming to a boil.
Nights like these, quiet and peaceful, were rare. Lucy, what little you saw of her, always managed to make her presence felt. Stray laundry scattered about the living room, the faint whiff of weed wafting from her window, and of course the obnoxiously frequent banging in every sense of the word which made falling asleep a struggle. Your earplugs may be fit to block out the noise, but nothing could block the bed-rocking from reverberating through the walls just enough to feel it. It's hard to feel welcome in an apartment you barely feel you own.
You'd always ended up keeping very few posessions... At first, to make moving out from home with minimal notice as easy as possible. Then simply because you've barely had the money to buy anything but necessities. The few that have stuck might go for a pretty penny now. Nostalgic twenty and thirty somethings with cash to burn and nothing better to spend it on. You've listed a couple of your old DS games, plushies and CDs, which each got snapped up almost immediately! Weirdly though, all by the same person it seems? You suppose it's not that strange if they're a lover of old toys, none of which you have time to play with even if you care to anymore. Still, not everything was worth selling.
It did at least seem like you had the apartment entirely to yourself. Not that you could think of much to do given how little of the evening you'll get to enjoy before needing to hit the hay ready for an early start tomorrow. Still, as you pour yourself a cup of mint tea you plod over to the telly cabinet to rummage through some old DVDs you brought with you when you moved out. A whopping great brick of a DVD folder, filled to the brim with every David Attenborough documentary you could find over the years. The spongy casing starting to peel and the zip long since busted from years of use. Although Lucy's telly didn't have a DVD player, you figured out how to retrofit it with one, much like you had your laptop. Something about physically having your favourite comfort shows on hand even if the internet falters or streaming services decide to delete them out of the blue is a comforting level of certainty which you sorely needed to ground you with how chaotic life has been lately.
Tracing a finger through the "pages", you land on The Hunt. Hard to say why, but something about getting to see precious wildlife get to live another day (either by finally eating or fleeing from a maw) was oddly reassuring. Like a slightly morbid reminder that you'll find a way through hardship, even if just barely. At least, that's the nicest reason to come to mind. Truthfully though, you suppose it scratches a similar itch that true crime does for some people. Morbid curiosity of the tragic, deadly and dangerous. It always felt in poor taste though, hyping up these real killers while ignoring the very real victims. At least directing your fascination to the natural world assuaged your guilty pleasure somewhat, even if on some level you understand those who obsess over criminals.
At least it's undeniable your fascination with wildlife wasn't just a substitute for more questionable interests, the natural world as a whole captivated you like nothing else. Frankly less appreciated facets of it like fungi and plants held most of your interest, though animals seemed to trust you far quicker than you'd ever expect. On quiet mornings or on your lunch break when the sun's out, basking in the glow of pollen and mayflies while feeding birds and rodents in the park made you feel just like Snow White - as silly as it sounds. You know these creatures would happily go on without you, so perhaps it's somewhat selfish to want the comfort their attention brings. Still, moments like that kept you going through the worst days.
Snapping out of your musing, you dim the lights and slide the DVD into its player and nestle yourself deep into the sofa with your mint tea cupped closely up to your face. Its pleasant scent clearing your sinuses as you breathed it in deeply with a sigh.
There they are! Snuggled up so adorably like a sleepy little seal!
The sight of them made Peter's head spin with want and adoration, nearly throwing his balance off the balcony. He tried to keep his body firmly away from the door frame, but couldn't help leaning his head further forward to take in all their radiant beauty. Even disheveled as they were from a long day at work and slightly smudged makeup, they managed to make it seem so elegant. Their work shirt replaced with an oversized crop top that sloped off their shoulder to expose some of their perfectly soft skin... Oh how he wished he could just slide open the balcony door and nuzzle into their delicate neck. Perhaps nibble on it, leave some marks too...
With fall rearing its head, the cold made his nightly hobby a lot less comfortable, but he knew he'd grow numb to it in time. For the moment, the fire they stoked inside him kept him more than warm enough. Time sure flies! Seems like only yesterday he saw them at the diner for the first time, the way they smiled with their eyes which glittered as they flitted from table to table. Glasses which slunk to the bridge of their nose while their hands were occupied to the nines with several tables' worth of trays. They'd usually be saddled with all the more manual labor around the diner. Taking out the trash, cleaning up messes, carrying an impressive number of plates at once... practically carrying the diner all on their own! Their thick, muscular upper body perfectly complimenting their soft, marshmallow like thighs. Made all the more alluring by the diligent way they carried themselves, striding with the grace and power of a dancer.
He sighs longingly at the memory of them practicing in the nearest studio to their apartment, having not had the money to go in a while. Seeing them hoist themselves up the silks and fly like an angel, his angel... His heart skipping a beat when they'd suddenly drop. Even if it's controlled, even if they know what they're doing, the thought of them getting hurt or, god forbid, dying in an accident never fails to put him into a tailspin. Selfishly he's glad they haven't the money to go to classes for the time being. One less thing to worry about hurting his precious love. Even so, the joy it clearly brings them is one he so badly wishes to re-create. Maybe he could build his own rig back at the cabin? It'd have to be outside for it to be tall enough... He would definitely have to keep watch so they don't use it as a ruse to run away and who would he be to turn down a private show from his angel? Every single one for him and him alone...
Just as he felt drool threaten to ebb from between his lips, he shrunk back into the shadows and gulped it back. A shadow of fog from where he breathed so heavily was left on the glass of the sliding door. They nearly saw him! Tucking his gangly limbs out of sight he waited for the coast to clear, only for their encroaching shadow to grow ever larger. Shit... They must have noticed the fog! Shit shit shit-
Having them this close to him, even if separated still by the glass between them was nerve-wreaking. Each heartbeat rung through his ears so loudly he wondered if they could hear it through the glass. Then, with a click, the balcony door slid open and they stepped out into the cool fall air. The confused panic in their frantic searching was palpable. Staying low to the ground, Peter crawled just below their field of vision. Barely a hair's width away from their beautiful thighs hugged by plush, corduroy leggings like a layer of soft fur... His hand froze mid-reach, barely holding back the urge to grab their ankles and pull them into the shadows with him. Bending them over the balcony as they embrace each other for their first kiss under the stars... but not tonight. It was too soon for that, sadly.
Shrinking back, he watches as they, shivering from the cold, give up on their search and return to the warmth of their living room, to which he let out a long-held sigh of relief. That was close. Too close.
Right now would be a perfect opportunity to leave. They already suspect something, it wouldn't be wise to chance the rest of the evening without being discovered. Even so, he couldn't bring himself to leave. Eyes still fixated on them as they settled back into the sofa, distracting themselves from their worries with some TV. Admittedly, Peter wasn't really paying attention to whatever they were watching. Only enough to remember what they like. They really like their nature documentaries, huh?
Despite how close a call tonight was just minutes ago, he couldn't help but feel himself sink back into the glass. Hypnotized by their effortless perfection.
Maybe it was about time he moved to a better hiding spot...
"Polar bears, on average, succeed only once in 20 hunts."
The familiar voice-over helped calm you down a bit. You're sure you must be seeing things, maybe a bird flew into the balcony door and left a smudge mark while you were at work? You could've sworn it wasn't there earlier though...
"If the hunter is skinny, like this one, that may not be often enough."
Re-focusing your thoughts back to the telly, you can't help but sympathise with the bear as you feel your stomach growl. Time to go on a "hunt" of your own and see if Lucy's eaten all the bread, again. Yanking the freezer door open to bypass the frost which threatened to seal it shut, watching all the little flakes of ice scatter to the ground, you're relieved to see at least half a loaf left. The local bakery usually gave away or massively discounted the bread that was about to go bad, so freezing it meant you weren't just buying a loaf of mold by the morning.
"All she can do is keep trying."
You snap off a slice from the ice-brick of a loaf and, as you shove it into the toaster, you rummage around in the fridge for some butter but come up short. Dammit Lucy... You suppose you could have it plain or maybe fry it with some salt and oil? No, can't be arsed. Looking at your sad little slab of plain brown bread as it pops out of the toaster, you grumble back to the sofa, nibbling at it like a disgruntled mouse.
"To prevent her scent from betraying her, she makes a wide sweep to get downwind of the seal."
Crumbs spill everywhere as you plop back onto the sofa with a huff, unsatisfied with your meager midnight snack. The smell of slightly burnt toast overpowering what was left of the mint tea. At least it's getting to the good bit...
"Getting close."
You've seen this scene play out an embarrassingly large amount of times. You feel the voiceover fade into the background as you feel the day catching up with you, sinking into the sofa. Tiredness threatening to overtake you.
"She's now right behind the seal."
Peter looked down at them from the edge of the sofa. Managing to scale across from the balcony to their bedroom window and sneak in behind their line of sight. A hand cupped to his mouth to quiet his heavy breathing and keep any drool from dripping onto their hair as his hand grew wet with each pant. They were right there! He could just reach out and...
*Achoo*!
Startled by the sneeze, he flinched back, only to melt at how cute it was, like a little mouse's squeak. He should head back, leave them in peace, but all the weeks of painful yearning were taking their toll and desperately needed release. Their figure was slumped over the arm of the sofa as if on the brink of slumber. Maybe he wouldn't have to hide after all...
"Incredibly, she caught the seal underwater"
Though he couldn't see their eyes he could tell they'd fluttered shut, leaving what remained of the toast to slip from their hand onto the floor as their chin slipped from their palm. Head hanging heavy to the side, leaving their neck temptingly exposed. Their angelic figure lay so peacefully sprawled across the cushions, vulnerable and exposed... It took every ounce of restraint for him to not reach over and rip their clothes off then and there! Not content to waste such a perfect opportunity though, he made his way around to the front of the sofa to kneel down by their side. Taking a moment to worship her in awe, unable to hold himself back any longer, his hands gently traced along their side feeling every inch of their curves...
"It's only small, but even so, its blubber alone will contain one hundred thousand calories, enough to sustain this bear for a week."
He had to savor this. Who knows when he'll next get an opportunity like this. He could only hope it was sooner rather than later. Every inch felt like velvet under his fingers, even where their soft edges hardened into dense muscle. Each and every fiber relaxed and limp. They were so perfect like this! Floating in their dreams like an angel. And to think he was considering staying outside all night in case he got caught! Sometimes it paid to take risks. Just as he thought that though, they stirred underneath his touch and shuffled away from it. Maybe they weren't as deep asleep as he thought, so he quietly arose to hide back in the closet as he had so many nights before. What was perhaps the most blissful night of his life so far was drawing to a close, but he prayed it wouldn't be the last.
"And, in that time, she might even catch another..."
You and Peter are out and you both run into one of Peter's old friends from school.
Friend: Hey, Pete! It's been forever!
Peter: *highfives the friend* Great seeing you again!
Friend: *sees Y/N* oh? Who's this?
Peter: *starts to get possessive and puts his arm over your shoulder* She's my girlfriend.
Y/N: Hi.
Friend: Ehhh...I dunno... She's kind of an eyesore, don't you think?
Peter is snapped out of his possessive mode due to confusion, since he never gets that reaction usually.
Peter's mind: 'huh? What is he talking about? Eyesore? Who? Me? No, he said 'she'. Who could he be talking abo--?'
Then it hits him. And his rage reaches a boiling point.
Peter: HEY, YOU SON OF A BITCH! Y/N IS NOT UGLY IN THE SLIGHTEST! HOW DARE YOU CALL HER THAT! DO YOU NOT SEE THE OBVIOUS GODDESS GRACING US WITH HER PRESENCE RIGHT NOW?!
You liked Peter defending you and felt flattered, but you felt a bit uncomfortable with the tension.
The friend doesn't react and just shrugs and starts to walk away.
Friend: Eh, whatever. See ya.
Peter: NO 'WHATEVER'! YOU GET BACK HERE, YOU BASTARD! I OUGHTA KICK YOUR ASS RIGHT HERE!!
✉ Request: I dunno where else to send this so,,, imagine Peter with a chubby!Y/N. He's constantly groping their belly and thighs, nipping at their chest and butt, and when he's in a softer mood, nuzzling into the soft skin just under their chin. [Anon]
!!Warnings!!: [18+ NSFW] Obsession, Controlling, Biting, etc.
+ Let me tell you something. If you EVER doubt your looks, like your just having a low self esteem day. Do yourself a favor and don’t let him find out.
+ This man will force you to strip naked and stand in front of a mirror as he compliments, kisses, and nips at every (and I mean every) part of you
+ Ends with him fucking you while making you to watch in the reflection
+ He will stare into your soul through that mirror as he fucks you senseless, turning you into a quivering shaking mess
+ If you even try to break eye contact by looking down, he’ll force your head back up and begin mercilessly teasing you
+ “Hey, don’t look away now. You’re missing the show.”
+ “How could you not love yourself? Just look at how adorable you are.”
+ He likes to fuck you missionary just so he can grab at your rolls and tits as he pounds into you until your seeing stars
+ (Also likes to fuck you doggy so he can grab and knead your ass)
+ Loves laying right on your tummy or chest when he goes to bed
+ Or when he’s just looking for a nap and some physical touch, he’ll go for your thighs or even make you lay on your stomach so he can use your ass as a pillow
+ He always talks about how he wishes he could eat you up, and sometimes you think he really contemplates it with how many of his teeth marks cover your skin
+ Loves spoon feeding you! Seeing you enjoy something he made especially for you makes his heart explode
+ He’ll fill you up in more ways than one that’s for sure
