𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤

Slow Burn Desire*

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → 18+, Smut! Dry Humping, Makeout Session, Sexual Tension, Swearing, Soft Smut, Fluff.

Summary → After school, you and Peter explore intimacy while keeping your promise to wait, indulging in heated moments filled with love and tension.

Note: Peter and Reader are around 17 and have decided to wait until they're 18 before taking that next step. It's a personal choice they both agreed on, and this fic explores intimacy without crossing that boundary.

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The bell had barely rung before Peter was dragging you out of Midtown High, fingers laced with yours as he led you down the street toward his apartment. His grip was firm, warm, and desperate-like he couldn't wait another second to be alone with you.

"May's working late," he had murmured in your ear during lunch, his lips brushing against your temple in a way that sent shivers down your spine. "We'll have the place to ourselves."

And that was all the encouragement you needed.

Now, sitting in his room, on his bed, your heart was racing from more than just the walk. Peter was sitting back against the pillows, and you were straddling his lap, knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his hips. His t-shirt had been discarded somewhere on the floor, and his messy curls were a wild mess around his face from how many times your fingers had been tangled in them.

His lips were swollen, pink, glistening. Probably the same way yours were. His hands had been gripping your waist, keeping you pressed close, and the heat between you was unbearable.

"You're so beautiful," Peter whispered, his breath fanning over your lips before he kissed you again.

It wasn't rushed, but it wasn't slow either. It was needy. Desperate. Like the two of you were on the edge of something big and neither of you wanted to fall just yet.

Peter groaned softly against your lips when you shifted in his lap, the friction making his fingers tighten on your waist. "Babe, you're killing me here."

You giggled breathlessly, rolling your hips again just to see his reaction. His head fell back against the headboard, his mouth parting slightly, and the sight of him like that-flushed, panting, eyes half-lidded with desire-made your stomach tighten.

When his gaze found yours again, it was dark with admiration, like he was trying to memorize every inch of you. "You're unreal," he murmured, voice breathless.

Your cheeks burned under the intensity of his stare. "You're one to talk," you whispered, letting your fingers trail down his bare chest. He shivered at your touch, muscles tensing beneath your fingertips.

Peter exhaled sharply, his grip on your waist tightening. "You have no idea what you do to me."

His hands roamed your waist, his grip firm yet reverent, like he was savoring every second. His lips trailed along your jaw, down to your neck, where he paused, breathing you in. The heat between you was intoxicating, every shift of your hips making his hold tighten.

Your body ached with need, the sensation pooling low in your stomach, making it impossible to think about anything but him. You clutched at his shoulders, your breath coming out in shaky pants as you tried to steady yourself.

"Peter," you whimpered, pressing your forehead to his, trying to ground yourself. "I-I'm so wet right now."

He let out a strangled sound, his hands gripping your hips tighter before he forced himself to breathe. "W-we can't, baby. We promised... we'd wait."