彡 stepbrother!peter parker obsessed with you
NSFW ( mostly just a self-indulgent au )
• reposted since tumblr hid it •
w a r n i n g : contains non con and perv!peter
before tony stark had settled down with pepper potts, he had been with another woman. but after a messy divorce and an unwanted child, he decided to cut off all contact with her.
that woman was your mother. you had never met your father until she handed you off to him one day in the chilly autumn of new york.
after turning 18, she had decided to kick you out and dump you at the very front doors of stark tower.
with loose, messily packed luggage and fat tears staining your face, a man with short curly hair opened the door to you.
of course, later you learned his name was happy and tony trusted him greatly. happy also seemed to willfully obey his every order so you assumed there was a lot of trust and history between them. but you also wondered if tony ever told anyone about you.
it didn’t surprise you though, when you were brought up to tony, escorted by happy, that your father had no idea who you are. and when you explained yourself, he acted shocked you existed.
that’s how you ended up being employed by tony himself, starting out more as an errand runner or assistant to his incessant requests.
you couldn’t lie and say you enjoyed the first few months helping out around the avengers tower and catering to people who intimidated you- but after two years you had come to form closer relationships with those on the team and were more than just a nuisance.
but there was one other person you spent a lot of time with.
peter parker.
you were basically the same age as him, both the same generation and shared the exact same humour. your friendship with peter was nothing like the ones you possessed with the other, older avengers.
your texts between each other consisted of memes and spammed word vomit. peter spilled his secrets and his fears to you while you comforted him and listened. he didn’t see you any differently despite being aware of your hidden relation to his boss, respecting you enough to never bring it up.
there were times where you’d catch him staring at you for too long or you’d accidentally touch each other and he’d linger… just a little bit. you only brushed it off that he was clingy and touch starved.
alas, peter knew sometimes you would feel embarrassed of the fact you were tony’s kid especially when tony never liked to share details about himself to his coworkers. a few of them had been told too but treated you like you weren’t the daughter of one of the most narcissistic men they knew.
another reason you got along well with everyone. so much that you had been silently promoted to aiding in missions and able to train side by side with peter and the rest of the avengers.
when sparing with peter, he’d purposefully sweep your legs out from under you, only to collect your wrist in both of his hands and slam them to the mat, his thighs locked on either side of your hips and his face unnecessarily lowered to hover over yours.
you found most of your sessions under him and while it frustrated you that he beat you every single time, you couldn’t help but notice the look on peter’s face when he did trap you to the floor.
you also noticed how as soon as he got off of you, peter was quick to end the sparring match- practically running out of the gym, his pace fast and posture hunched over. maybe peter was just weird in general?
but he couldn’t help it. seeing you under him, looking vulnerable and so damn pretty like that… his cock swelled with blood and his balls ached with the need to breed you. every. single. time.
the feeling didn’t go away, even after may had died. despite the fact peter had become a mess, you were right there, picking up the pieces that used to be him and taping them back together as best as you could.
that’s when tony had made the executive decision to take peter in. he reasoned that he was already like a father figure to the poor boy, nothing would change. tony obviously had a soft spot for him.
at least, that’s what he said to convince you. and you couldn’t turn peter away when everyone he loved was no longer in his life.
so he moved into the building, took all of his belongings and clothes with him. peter put university on hold while he figured things out. you were understanding and tony- supportive. that’s when he could see the resemblance between you two. you both cared for him. and he suggested to become apart of your family.
of course tony took it the wrong way and surprised peter by adopting him, not even telling you beforehand. you were both speechless but for different reasons.
when peter stroked his leaking dick at night, giving into his fantasies of pushing your head down and dragging his red sensitive tip across your slit and deep inside your soaked walls; he could do so freely. now? now he couldn’t.
he couldn’t have you the way he wanted. peter was definitely frustrated at the new dynamic between you and him but he found it as an excuse to freely walk into your room whenever he wanted. why not? he was your step brother now.
it creeped you out at first, how he would sometimes silently slip past your doorway and make himself at home, occasionally starting up random conversations as if he hadn’t done anything wrong.
eventually you got used to it. sometimes leaving your room to grab a snack or go to the bathroom. you could trust peter not to break anything. he was such a sweet and quiet guy.
and that’s when he would take his chance, going through your drawers and stealing little things of yours.
the sheer panties your best friend from high school had given you for your birthday. a photo of you in a revealing bikini from a trip to the beach when you used to live with your mom. one of the many bottles of body spray that littered your vanity. lotion that you used all the time. another pair of underwear that were less appealing but you wore all the time when you wanted to dress comfortably.
peter even started to lay on your bed on his stomach as soon as you left the room and grind his hips down, rubbing his jean clad bulge against the soft blanket you slept under. he’d stick his face down into your pillow and hump your mattress, veiny hands fisting any fabric he could grab and pulling it closer to his nose, smelling you while he thought of raw dogging your puffy pussy in your own bed.
just when he was on the verge of cumming in his pants, you’d always walk in and he’d feign innocence. pretending he wasn’t just dry humping your bed like a greedy rabbit. you were never the wiser.
you noticed certain things of yours started to go missing little by little until you barely had things to wear or use. you assumed it was the dryer eating your entire wardrobe so you complained to tony and he gave you his card to buy an entire new one.
he didn’t want you going alone though so he made peter go with you. you weren’t entirely thrilled since had he had been glued to your hip almost constantly as of recently but you went along with it, knowing that if you didn’t agree, tony wouldn’t let you go at all.
so when you get to the small shop on the busy corner, peter wouldn’t stop suggesting pieces for you to buy or even try on. you found that they were either way too revealing or borderline inappropriate for him to request. but he wouldn’t stop insisting, going as far as to shove a whole armful of things into you and pushing you to the changing room very eagerly.
“i’m just trying to help.” he told you before closing the door behind you once you fully stepped inside. it didn’t help that every two minutes he’d knock and ask if you had finished, that he wanted to see what they looked like on you.
you obliged, feeling a bit uncomfortable. you were exposed- not to mention in front of peter. your step brother.
you left the small room in the first thing he had shown you, a size too small t-shirt and extremely tiny booty shorts. but peter seemed to hype you up, smiling enthusiastically. his eyes held a glossed over look while his gaze slowly went down your body, taking in how your skin would stick out and show where it probably shouldn’t be.
“okay turn around.” he spoke abruptly, making your face twist into one of uncertainty. he shook his head and merely spoke down to you like you were playing dumb; “come on, i just wanna see what the back looks like.”
huffing out a sigh, you reluctantly shifted your weight and spun to show your backside.
when you did though- you swore you heard a camera clicking but when you whipped your head around to catch whoever had taken your picture without consent.. no one was there.
“peter..?” you meekly stared around, looking for the boy but he had disappeared as if in thin air. the only other people you saw were two employees reorganizing hangers across the wall.
your stomach twisted and you shrunk back into the changing room, not bothering to try the other pieces on and put your own clothes back on, feeling anxious that someone was watching you.
as soon as you went to open the door, peter was standing right in front of the entrance- making you jump and drop the large pile of things you were holding.
“woah, sis. calm down. it’s just me.” he laughed it off, giving you that boyish smile, peter’s eyes never leaving yours. you felt your face flush and apologized- pushing past him to put the exposing clothes back on the racks where he had gotten them from.
ever since then, you felt violated. you avoided peter. you started to ask FRIDAY to lock your door with an access code. you weren’t entirely sure it had been him but he was starting to freak you out even after that day.
you’d wake up multiple nights in a row, in a cold sweat, absolutely sure you could feel someone else had been inside your room besides yourself.
you’d place your hoodie down on the couch to grab a drink, coming back to find it gone.
peter would stay up for two hours after you went to bed, wanting to be certain you had fallen asleep before typing in the access code to your room- watching you put it in while he stuck to the ceiling one day.
he’d quietly shuffle in and see your phone beside your pillow and your face scrunched up while you dreamt. he’d whisper your name just to double check then crept over to your bed, hovering down to stare.
the next thing he knew, he was fucking hard- just by looking at you. that’s what you did to him and you didn’t even know it. his step sister always teasing him, purposefully taunting him with something that was forbidden for peter.
but he bottled up his frustration, struggling to push down his jeans as silently as possible. the slight sound of denim rubbing against itself was drowned out as his pants clung just below his knees. he hadn’t worn a belt for this very reason. wanted easy access while keeping you unaware of his presence.
peter bit his lip when his warm palm finally made contact with his cock, the angry tip already leaking and spilling down to weave through his fingers. “mmshit..” he choked out, careful not to be too loud when he started to stroke himself. his eyes were locked onto your sleeping face, his tongue darting out to drag across his bottom lip with desire. desire for you.
since he couldn’t have you, this was the best he could do, flicking his wrist to increase the speed that his hand jerked his dick, his cheeks wearing a dark flush the faster he went.
“yeah.. wanna breed my lil’sis.. make you mine, baby..” peter muttered, leaning forward so that his cock was right beside the pillow, the back of his hand almost ghosting your nose every time he moved up the entirety of his throbbing length.
he had only touched himself above you one other time but every single night since he saw how your ass looked in those small shorts- he couldn’t help but visit you while you were unconscious, whispering about how badly he wanted to feel your pretty cunt wrapped around his dick, about how good he bets you taste. but he was growing restless, as he confided in your passed out form- he needed more.
which lead to two nights ago. peter couldn’t help but jack off while sitting at the chair in front of your desk in the corner, listening to your soft breaths, one your previously used panties stuffed into his mouth to keep himself quiet - forcing peter to spurt cum all over his hand and bare thighs.
tonight was no different but he was feeling bolder, the aggressive animalistic demand his mind screamed at him to paint your face and mark you as his. to see how hot you looked while his warm sticky seed dripped down your lips and chin and onto your sheets, ruining them. ruining you.
a low groan rumbled in his chest when you shifted, your face now just under his slapping balls. peter almost came at the sight of your unconscious submission, your eyes fluttering and your lips just barely parted. ready to swallow the load he could feel about to explode from his swollen cock head.
his other hand not gripping his dick, shot out to claw at your head board to steady himself from falling on top of you, his body tingling with pure heat. he could barely stand, his knees buckling and the strong muscles in his pale thighs rippling with the effort to maintain his stance.
he was sure he could last another few minutes but when you moved your arms under your blanket, the sudden action pulled it down, revealing the loose tank top you had chosen to wear to bed.
peter’s eyes flitted down to your tits, and upon noticing you hadn’t worn a bra, your nipples stiff and pressing into the fabric- he let out a loud moan, massive ropes of white cum pouring out of his cock.
a few spurts hit your bare collarbones, your chest, the soft blanket draped over you and of course your pretty face. he watched as the thick goo caught on the tip of your nose and bottom lip- gravity causing it to run inside your mouth and down your cheeks onto the pillow.
“fuuuck.” peter cursed at the sight of his cum soaked step sister, all laid out for him.
when you felt something hot splatter your skin you flinched. it had made you stir. blinking your messy eyelids, trying to get whatever it was out of your eyes- you were fully awakened when you heard that familiar click of a camera.
rising your hand up to drag your numb fingers across your face, whatever was on it stuck to your digits and webbed between them. then you noticed it was also in your mouth so you leaned forward and let it drizzle out past your lips and land on your sheets. then you saw movement in the darkness and your unfocused gaze lifted to just barely be able to make out what it was. or who it was.
your body ran cold- you were first met with a cock that was still strikingly hard, leaking and pointing right at you, followed by hair framing the base of the shaft, accompanied by a small trail of the same hair up to below his bellybutton.. peter’s face above it all.
he lowered his phone with clouded eyes, panting heavily and cheeks flushed. his eyes on you.
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @whimsicalrogers
➥ series masterlist
summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.
~
Keeping track of the days wasn’t hard. Night and day announced themselves with the setting of the sun and the rising of the moon. It was strange how it failed to feel monotonous, each day so different from the one before despite doing so many of the same tasks. You helped with breakfast in the morning, yes, and you ate dinner with the entire house every evening, but the activities in between weren’t always the same.
It was only just the other day that you’d been shown the nursery, a modest room that had been decorated by the wives and would serve as a classroom from what you’d been told.
Faced with another visualization of how permanent this all was made you lightheaded. You knew why you were being shown these things, why you were slowly being exposed to more and more of what your life here was expected to be. It felt depressing, but not as much as it should’ve been.
After all, at least you knew what the rest of your life would look like…even if it was some sick man’s fantasy.
You hadn’t had another incident with Steve since the vase debacle. You hadn’t been able to do your household tasks for a week, and even when you rejoined the other wives, you found yourself wincing here and there. You got the feeling that Steve had long wanted to punish you, ever since that incident in the kitchen, and while you still felt heavily watched, like you’d try to make a run for it any minute…
Peter was around more, now.
You didn’t like Peter. You were sure you never would, but you couldn’t deny the security you felt in his presence. You couldn’t ignore how much safer you felt all the while knowing that he was just a few rooms away. Sometimes when you were cooking or cleaning or even just attending to some vegetables in the greenhouse, you’d look over your shoulder and make eye contact with a familiar brown pair.
The relief you’d feel was something you didn’t want to focus on.
Sometimes he’d even take over for Jane or Margaret and would take it upon himself to show you how something was done instead. He was the one to show you the nursery/playroom, following close behind him as he prattled on about it. Maybe he’d seen the slight fear in your eyes, the combination of defeat and nervousness as you stared your future in the face.
…because Peter had reached out to take your hand, squeezing it.
Something about his presence had become like a shield. Like protection against Steve and anything else you feared in the house, so dependent upon it that when you woke up for the first time in a while, and Peter wasn’t there, you felt your heart drop. You were fully awake in seconds, sitting up in a slight panic and taking in his empty side of the bed. It wasn’t made, and it was still warm, telling you he wasn’t gone long.
The bathroom light was off, and you didn’t know where he could’ve gone, but when you looked outside the window, you were rewarded with the sight of him. You felt your shoulders relax, but your heart did pause at the sight of Steve and Bucky with him. All three were talking in the yard. About what, you didn’t know, but you didn’t think you were able to go back to sleep until it was time to get up again.
It was too early to get started on breakfast, so you weren’t surprised by the silence of the house when you left your room. You could even faintly hear the cry of an infant coming from somewhere on the other side of the household. It felt surreal to be up so early. With the sun just barely peeking over the horizon, the calm atmosphere, and the faint sound of a child, the place almost seemed like…a home.
You weren’t really thinking much when you approached the backdoor, not even questioning if it would even be unlocked. You guessed you just assumed it would be seeing as Peter and the other two were outside. When you opened the door, it was clear that the sound had caught their attention, all three halting in what they were saying.
You shuddered when your gaze briefly met Steve’s, quickly looking away when it fell on Bucky instead. You gave Peter your attention as you unsurely stood in the doorway, not quite certain on how to voice your need for Peter to come back. You didn’t want to be alone. You didn’t like being alone, and as Peter quickly made his way to you, as if afraid you’d take off at any moment, you felt your eyes water at how ridiculous you were being.
“You know you can’t be out here-.”
“I’m not,” you hurried to say, keen to point out that you hadn’t even stepped outside lest Steve try to use the technicality as a reason for punishment. “I woke up, and you were…”
You trailed off, taking a step back, eyes finding the floor. You felt Peter’s hands on your shoulders as he tried to look into your eyes, and you swallowed, shrugging.
“You weren’t there.”
Peter seemed to understand what you were saying, and you heard him softly exhale. He stepped inside with you, embarrassment filling you for so many reasons, quickly looking away when your gaze caught Bucky’s as Peter shut the door behind him.
“I’m sorry-.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he assured you, guiding you back upstairs. “You just scared me, is all. You’re not allowed outside yet, so you were the last person I was expecting to see.”
You hadn’t even been able to focus on the feel of air and sunlight on your skin for the first time in months. It was something you should’ve been soaking up, cherishing before you were forced inside again, but instead, you’d only been able to focus on how much you didn’t want to be alone.
“Is Steve…? Will he…punish me for that?” you quietly asked as Peter closed the bedroom door behind you both.
“No, no,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’ll talk to him.”
He rubbed your arms before leading you towards the bed, and you made yourself comfortable. You felt the need to apologize again, feeling like you’d still done something wrong by basically dragging Peter back to bed. You frowned at your word choice, something twisting uncomfortably in your gut.
“What were you talking about?”
The question came out before you could really think about it, and Peter paused at the sound of it, looking at you with a look you couldn’t name, and you swore you saw the hint of a smile on his lips before it disappeared.
“Just something Thor did the other day,” Peter eventually told you. “He’s a very unserious guy.”
Peter chuckled at a memory you weren’t privy to, and you nodded.
It wasn’t lost on you that everyone in the house seemed to have the kind of relationships with each other that you hadn’t quite mastered yet. Truthfully, you didn’t know how any of the men knew each other, but they all seemed as thick as thieves. Not even just that, but you noticed how at ease Laura seemed around Sam or Nat around Stephen or Sharon around Clint. They all seemed so familiar and comfortable with each other.
Like a family.
It was hard for you to view this place as anything close to that. After all, these women were here the same way you were, but Margaret had been here for years and seemed to find genuine enjoyment in her relationship with Steve despite how cruel he was. Peter wasn’t half as cruel as him, so that only made you wonder what would become of you in three years’ time. Sometimes you didn’t want to think about that too hard, afraid of what answer you’d come up with.
You knew that you were weak, and you were genuinely scared that you might not be able to even recognize yourself.
It was sometime after breakfast had been made, when you were hidden away in the greenhouse, when Peter called for you. Afraid that you’d gotten into trouble for something, you’d quickly risen to your feet. You could feel Nat’s eyes on you as you stumbled into the house, voice shaky.
“Yes?”
Despite your nervousness, your voice had carried, and it wasn’t long before Peter rounded the corner.
He wasn’t alone.
The man with him had dark hair, but it was greying ever so slightly, and simple glasses framed his face. He and Peter were about the same height, and you warily eyed the strange man as they both approached you. You brushed some dirt off of you, swallowing.
“Am I in trouble?”
Peter seemed slightly taken aback by your question before quickly shaking his head, gaze softening.
“No,” he told you, reaching for you. “Bruce is our call-in doctor. He helps with all the births and health visits. We just figured it was time for a physical. Make sure you’re healthy and all…”
You were looking between them as Peter relayed this all to you, and you found yourself wondering if the doctor…knew. You wanted to believe that he didn’t, but then again, you never thought so many horrible men could congregate in one place and cohabitate with one another and their sick ideals. What was one more horrible man?
“It’s okay,” Peter softly assured you with a hand on your back as he guided you upstairs. “He’s just going to take some urine and blood samples.”
“Blood?”
You had questioned that before Peter even finished, eyes wide as you remembered your last…run-in with blood. The mention of the red substance had you feeling spacey, and for the first time in what felt like too long, you had a brief recollection of your friends…and the sight of their bloody bodies.
“Woah, woah, woah,” Peter murmured as he grabbed hold of you, quick to do so when you started swaying. “It’s okay…”
He helped you sit on the bed, and you eyed the other man as he came into the room.
“Dr. Banner will be quick. He’s efficient like that. Isn’t that right, Bruce?”
His agreement didn’t make you feel better, and you frowned when Peter spoke about getting the blood out of the way first. You couldn’t take your eyes off of the other man as he approached, heart racing at the sight of the needle. Your lips trembled, but before you could see him do anything, Peter took it upon himself to cup your chin, turning you to face him instead.
“Don’t look at him,” he murmured, brown eyes studying yours. “Just keep your eyes on me.”
Peter’s fingers brushed along your skin when you felt the pinch, and you struggled to swallow.
“Did the others have to do this?”
Peter hummed an affirmative, softly smiling at you. His other hand came up to stroke your cheek, and when you felt relief in your arm, his smile grew.
“You did so good,” he praised before looking at Dr. Banner.
You felt Peter’s hand trailing to your neck, massaging the crook of it where it met your shoulder as the other man searched for the cup you were meant to pee into, murmuring about needing to check up on Jane too.
“Thor used to come into my job, sometimes…”
Jane’s voice was very low in the greenhouse, her careful eyes on the door as she recounted her history with the God-like blond. Talking about your previous lives or anything close to it wasn’t encouraged, but after Jane had told you her ‘good news’, a hand on her stomach with a smile, you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from asking.
“I always thought he was handsome…funny…a little too optimistic, at times, but very sweet…”
There was something in her eyes you couldn’t quite place, something in her memories that made her smile dim some. If you had to guess, you’d say it was the memories and feelings of a time before she knew what Thor was really like. A time where she was just an innocent woman with a crush on a seemingly innocent man, unable to imagine the hell he’d put her through.
“He finally asked me out, and of course, I said yes.”
Her face fell some, and she sighed.
“As he was driving me home…I got lightheaded…drowsy…and then I woke up downstairs.”
You frowned at that, somewhat horrified that Jane had known Thor prior to this. Peter was a complete stranger, someone you had never even seen before, and you couldn’t imagine being subjected to this by someone you knew. Someone you trusted, your eyes burned with tears as you looked at Jane, but either out of genuineness or a practiced way of coping, a smile was already on her face again.
“That was… Well, it feels like a lifetime ago,” she slowly said, shaking her head. “…but, now we’re married, and I’m pregnant.”
She rubbed her stomach again, and you felt your own turn.
“Don’t you ever think about leaving?”
Your question was barely audible, fearful of anyone overhearing, but Jane heard you all the same.
“Not anymore,” she honestly told you. “It seemed…pointless. Masochistic to torture myself like that.”
You took a deep breath, heavily exhaling.
“Did you ever…?”
“Try?” she finished with a smile. “Oh, yeah. Twice, I think. After Thor had to sink to Steve’s level of punishment for the whole house to see, I never tried again.”
Your eyes met hers at that, and something seemed to pass through you both at the reminder of how Steve punished Margaret, sometimes. You didn’t even know that any of the other wives knew, and you wondered if it was something like an open secret. Again, you found yourself hurting for the new mom, unable to fathom how your humiliation at the hands of your so-called husband was just a known fact amongst the household.
“You shouldn’t…you shouldn’t try,” she eventually told you, making you look up. “When I was finally able to go outside, it was the first thing I did…and you’ll get caught…and it’s just not worth it.”
She sounded sad for you, but you felt sadder for yourself. You didn’t know how to tell her that you hadn’t even considered the thought in what felt like ages. It was just the other morning that you’d opened the door, and the thought of taking off, the thought of dashing right by the three men in the hopes that you could make it, hadn’t even crossed your mind.
You just hadn’t wanted to be alone.
You looked down as her words marinated within you. Jane had tried to escape twice, and there was no telling how many times Natasha had tried. You’d tried once, and it was barely an attempt, caught by Peter before you could even get your room door open. You didn’t need anymore confirmation of how weak you were, and even at dinner, you found yourself entertaining Jane’s advice and how masochistic it was to entertain thoughts that would never come true.
You weren’t half as strong as she was, and if she’d eventually given in, then what were you holding out for?
Peter could tell that you seemed distracted, touching your hand here and there, grabbing your attention. You gave him small smiles, unable to do much else, until he took another bite of the casserole.
“Pepper said you made this…”
You glanced over at the strawberry blonde, watching as she was engaged in a conversation with Steve and Tony.
“I did,” you told Peter, your eyes meeting his again.
“Really?” he quietly wondered, smile widening as his brows rose. “You did a good job.”
His hand came up to touch your cheek, and something like relief filled you. It was your first time cooking it without having to dump it afterwards, and while Pepper had assured you it looked and smelled great, Pepper was also known for placating you.
“I did…?”
Peter chuckled at how unsure you seemed.
“It tastes great.”
When he turned back to his food, you didn’t mirror him, keeping your eyes on him instead. You thought about when he’d eventually go back to work regularly like he used to before…and you didn’t like how it made you feel. Your chest tightened, and you blinked, finally turning towards your plate.
Without Peter, you really didn’t know how you’d function. After your punishment, you were even more afraid of Steve than you had been before, and you knew how much your slow adjustment irritated him. You knew that if it were up to Steve, you’d be punished every time you ruined a dish or burned some bread or messed up a load of laundry.
You didn’t even want to think about how many talks Peter had with the blond on your behalf.
It was something that weighed on your mind deep in the night, tears in your eyes at having to tiptoe around everyone again. Sure, you were adjusting much better, now, but that was exactly why Peter would have to go back to work again. You were better, now…so, he no longer needed to be here so much and neglect his job.
The thought had you shaking, holding in tears, and Peter must’ve felt it.
“Hey,” he said, turning on the lamp. “What’s wrong? Was it another nightmare?”
You shook your head.
Even those had become less frequent as of late.
“What is it?” Peter worriedly wondered, reaching for you.
You sat up, moving out of reach and wrapping your arms around yourself.
“I don’t want you to go back to work,” you eventually admitted. “I don’t like it when you’re not here. Steve…”
“He’s a lot, I know,” Peter softly said, touching your back. “…but I’ll have to eventually. This was only temporary…to help you adjust without the threat of severe punishment hanging over your head.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, hating that, and Peter made soothing sounds as your head drooped.
“You’ve been doing so well…”
You didn’t say anything to that, unable to voice the mindfuck this entire ordeal was. Peter was the reason you were even here, and so he should be the last person you want around. On the other hand though, he felt like the only thing standing between you and Steve’s ire, the memory of how the blond almost seemed to spit the word ‘weak’ out that day in the basement. He thought you were pitiful.
Pathetic.
…and he was right…but Peter didn’t make you feel that way.
Peter didn’t make you feel dumb for messing things up. He didn’t look at you like a bug he scraped off the bottom of his shoe, like a nuisance. Peter never looked at you like he was just waiting for you to screw up, but instead like he believed it wasn’t possible for you to. You wiped your face, hating that some tears had escaped.
“Why me?” you murmured.
He didn’t hear you, at first, a soft hum escaping him as he moved closer, fingers brushing your neck.
“Why me…? You didn’t even know me…not like Thor knew Jane,” you forced out, voice shaky. “So, I don’t get it.”
You looked at Peter, gaze almost pleading.
“Why did you choose me?”
Why did he choose you and change your life forever? Why did he choose you and get your friends killed? Why did he choose you and force you to leave your mom all alone? Why did Peter choose you and ruin your life?
Peter reached up to wipe your face, moving closer and grabbing your arm. You couldn’t read the look on his face as he pulled you against him, his other hand coming up to rest on your head. You could hear his heartbeat beneath your ears, and your lashes fluttered at the sound.
“I just…knew. “
Your brows furrowed.
“I watched you smile and laugh, and get that little knit in your brow when you hear something that confuses you…”
Your frown deepened at Peter’s words.
“You do it all the time here, like you’re always confused…and you probably are, but I think it’s too cute.”
You could feel Peter’s lips against your hair.
“I just knew it had to be you.”
You didn’t know what you were expecting to be honest. It’s not like you and Peter had ever been anything more than stranger who almost ran into each other at the bathroom entrance once. What else could you have possibly expected him to say? Peter hadn’t known a thing about you then, and it could be argued that he still didn’t, and you suddenly found the bedding interesting.
“I knew I had to have you…and I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t take you.”
You pressed your lips together, sniffing.
“…that wasn’t your decision to make,” you tearfully mumbled.
Peter heard you though if the way his hold on you tightened was anything to go by. His fingers briefly pressed into your skin, hard enough to make you wince, before he eventually loosened his hold. He let out a sigh, chest dramatically rising and falling beneath your head.
“I disagree.”
He pulled away, forcing you to do the same, but his hands remained on you, pressing into your shoulders as his eyes met yours. You had never seen Peter look so serious, lips pressed together and face even as he looked at you. You didn’t think you liked it, and you got the feeling that you said something you shouldn’t have. He suddenly took your chin, his grip tight.
“I wanted you…and so I chose you,” he slowly began. “…and that’s never going to change.”
Your lips trembled.
“You’re mine, now, and you’re never getting away. Do you understand?”
You started to nod before his hand slid down your neck, thumb lightly pressing against the front of your throat. The corner of his lips curved upwards into a small smile.
“I need to hear you say it,” he softly encouraged, and you took a deep breath.
“I understand…”
Peter’s gaze was expectant.
“I’m yours, now,” you whispered.
Satisfied, Peter pulled you against him again, burying his face into your hair.
It was the first really bad nightmare that you’d had in a while. A whole month actually. You woke up out of your sleep gasping for breath, clawing at your throat like something was choking you. You barely registered Peter beside you, waking up with you and reaching for you. He was faintly calling your name, that you could make out, but once you could breathe again, you paid him no mind.
You were too preoccupied with screaming.
It hurt your throat, rubbing against it like sandpaper and making it raw. It came from deep within your chest, the faces of your friends staring at you in the darkness, and you flailed on the bed. Your face felt colder than usual, and you realized it was the cool air hitting your wet cheeks. Every time Peter tried to grab your arms, you pushed at him, sobs festering in your chest.
“Y/N, you have to be quiet,” you heard him tell you. “You’ll wake up the whole house…”
You couldn’t really find it in you to care all that much. Your chest was so tight that it hurt, agony paralyzing you at the memory MJ’s final bloody act to push you away. You sobbed as you remembered Wanda’s heartbroken scream at the sight of her dead brother before she too was treated like nothing more than a wild animal. The disbelief you’d felt at Pietro’s murder was so vivid despite the fact that it had long happened, and you’d had months to accept it.
Peter finally wrapped his arms around you as you cried into his chest, the dark-haired man shushing you. Something about waking the whole house again. Something about Steve, and the mention of the blond had you crying harder. You pushed against Peter, nails digging into his skin as you tried to get away, but he only pushed back.
“Y/N…Y/N, stop,” he softly hissed. “Stop it.”
You’d never heard him sound so stern, and that too made you cry.
A choked wail escaped your lips…and then it wasn’t.
…because it was swallowed by Peter.
His lips on yours had you gasping, heart skipping a beat and chest clenching. His hands were still on your arms, trying to settle them as he moved his mouth over yours. When he let one of them go to rest his hand on the back of your neck, you used your free hand to push against his chest, but it was futile. You only realized it was so dark because your eyes were closed, but when you opened them, Peter was so close that you really couldn’t make him out.
Moonlight cast a pale glow in the room, shining light onto Peter holding you against him, tasting the inside of your mouth as he laid you down. His other hand was on your face, now, holding it in place as he kissed you. You could feel his heart beating against yours, his body completely pinning you down.
“You’re okay,” he murmured against your lips. “You’re okay…”
That’s what he always said, but it never felt true.
When you tried to push him away again, he took your wrists, pinning them on either side of your head. Peter was still kissing you, mouth molding almost perfectly against yours, a hum escaping him when your lips parted. He kissed your bottom lip and then your top one, his own finally trailing to the corner of your mouth as he kissed that too.
When he lifted his head, his nose brushed against yours, and under the glow of the moon, you could see his eyes boring into your own.
“There’s my pretty girl,” he softly said when you blinked at him, sniffling. “You’re okay.”
He let one of your hands go to run a finger down your lips, brushing it along your chin as he briefly pressed his lips to yours again.
“You’re safe, alright…?”
Your heart was still beating wildly in your chest, but remnants of your nightmare were slowly fading away, and you gave him a shaky nod. Peter kissed your cheek a few times before sitting up and pulling you with him. When he had you fully leaning on him as he laid back down, his arm curled around your waist, keeping you against him. You were still shaking, breathing still uneven and tears still in your eyes. Your lashes fluttered as you could feel Peter wiping them away, and you closed them completely when you felt his lips brush over yours one more time.
You were enchanting… Everything about you made him floored by you from the way you smiled to the way you moved. Your hair always seemed to shine in the moonlight. Just like right now.
~Warnings~
Rape/Non-con, Possessive Behavior, Face Slapping, Dryad!reader, Hunter!Peter Parker, Fantasy AU
You were enchanting…
Everything about you made him floored by you from the way you smiled to the way you moved.
Your hair always seemed to shine in the moonlight.
Just like right now.
Peter couldn’t stop staring at you. He came across you suddenly when he heard a voice singing. The music that came from your lips had him enchanted by you. It was so soft and sweet. It sounded like a song that was meant for him.
You were like a dream to Peter. A beautiful magical dream he didn’t want to wake from. He knew from the first song your voice prettily sang you were rightfully his.
He wanted only him to hear your sweet loving songs. For him to be the only one you sang to. That’s what he decided the day he wanted to take you away and marry you.
He followed you every day constantly and marked what you did, how you did it, why you did it. He figured out that you lived on the willow tree. Sleeping in the sturdier part of the branches. There you would make blankets out of the yarn-like leaves and sing your heavenly songs.
You never left the forest, or the willow tree. It was like a post. He noticed how you would hug the tree and talk to it as if it could understand you. He loved just watching when you talked to the tree. The smile that would grace your face only made him fall deeper in love with you.
Today, you were just lazing about on the forest bed waving your hand through the water, giggling at the fishes that swam up to kiss your hand. You look so blissful just laying there enjoying the water.
He decided that today was the day he was going to make you, his. That he was going to introduce himself instead of watching you.
He stepped steadily into view but you didn’t look up so he stepped a bit closer. His shadow and reflection mirrored in the water, all the fishes swam away scared by the sudden shadow. Your hand stopped waving through the water for a moment and you focused on the reflection. You carefully turned around and when you did your beauty was one like no other.
You both stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity before he finally broke the silence.
“My maiden… I I have been enchanted by you…” he said eyes filled with admiration.
Your gaze remained unchanged, a look of neither surprise nor nervousness. It was just your natural face, a face of pure serenity.
“Come with me. Come with me, my maiden,” he whispered the last part but he knew you still heard him.
He didn’t know if you understood him until you shook your head.
You spoke, your voice ever so gentle made his heart sing but the words that left your mouth made his immediately made him snap out of it, “I cannot leave this place, Hunter. Don't ask me to follow where you lead.”
Before he could even have a chance to think you left him, disappearing in the willow’s thick leaves.
Peter stared dumbfounded at the place you left him. He wanted to follow you towards the tree but he didn’t see signs of you anywhere around or in the tree.
He knew he had to try again.
No, He needed to try again and this time you wouldn’t say no.
. . .
Peter held a yellow flower he’s seen you stare at often in awe and smell with glee on your face. He thought since you rarely left, it would be nice if you could have the flower for yourself.
You were staring out into the River bank humming softly while braiding bits of your hair. You looked so serene like you’ve known nothing but the calamity of the forest for your entire life. Peter would be the one to change that, to show you the world.
You stopped when you heard him. You turned your head with a look he couldn’t quite place.
“My maiden, your beauty is nothing compared to this flower but I hope it will suffice…” he gently laid the flower in your hands.
You gently held the flower in your hands and stared at it. Your eyebrows furrowed while you looked at it.
“I’m enchanted by you and your beauty. I want to be the only one who listens to your sweet songs. I hope to be your husband,” he said eyes gleaming at you.
You couldn’t hide your feelings. Your face said it all as your lips curved into a soft frown and tears started to well in your eyes.
You shook your head just like before while holding the flower tightly to your chest.
“I will never marry you,” you said, the frown on your face becoming more apparent. “Not near, nor far, nor soon.”
A small why left Peter’s lips as you stared at him. As if you were frightened you stepped back towards your willow. Peter couldn’t let you go. Not yet. Not while you are not giving him an answer as to why.
Peter gripped your dress. You let out a yep before trying to pull him off, tearing it in the process just before you vanished.
Peter was angry. You left him again just after he gave you a flower and poured his feelings into you.
“You will come to regret your decision,” he said into the wind. You still heard him and shook as you laid the flower on the willow tree’s branches, softly crying for him to just go away.
Days went by.
Then weeks.
Then months…
He was nowhere to be found.
You went on your day like any other. It was sunny and the green lush leaves of your tree shined brilliantly. You lay on the grass, admiring the new flowers that were growing in. It was all so peaceful. That hunter was finally gone and you could enjoy protecting your tree.
You could’ve laid there all day but you had things to do. Things that were important to the plant life of the forest. You went on your way. You could never stray from your tree or your forest so you had the help of little rabbits and squirrels to get you the things you needed.
You felt something was wrong for a moment like there was an impending doom that was about to befall the forest. You wanted to ignore it. Your mother protected you and the woods, surely nothing would happen.
Oh how wrong you were.
You felt a hit to the back of your head and when you came to. You were on the forest floor with nothing on. You would’ve screamed if there wasn’t a gag in your mouth. Your hands were tied. There was no way you could’ve freed yourself. There was a voice in your ear telling you it was okay. Whispering how much you looked tonight while they petted your hair.
Your lungs almost gave out from your muffled screams. That hunter was right above you, kissing your face, using his filthy hands to touch your body, stroking and touching the most precious parts of you.
“Mother,” you tried to say. “Mother help me.”
But no one came. No one was there to save you. You cried when you realized it. That no one was coming for you. Not even your mother.
His eyes were so soft as they stared back at yours, which made you confused. You could feel that he was conflicted with what he wanted to do. You didn’t sense any regret nor was he upset with what he was about to do. He pressed his fingers against you, slowly rubbing your clit until you were wet enough for his fingers. He kept his fingers there while his other hand lowered down to a spot that had you screaming. You kept twisting the rope that was holding you it was rubbing your skin raw and you could smell the blood that came from it.
A harsh slap made you stop altogether. It was so hard it had your ears ringing throughout your head.
“My sweet maiden please forgive me. I just wanted to calm you,” he said as tears rolled down his cheeks.
What he was feeling now was remorse but it wasn’t for you. It was for him because he didn’t want to hit you. He was upset because you made him hit you. You could’ve thrown up at the emotions you were feeling from him. The scent of no regrets of what he wanted to do to you made you sick.
Fingers stuff themselves deep into you. You’ve never felt anything more intrusive than his fingers. They are what made you quiet other than your deep breaths that he mistook. For what you weren’t sure but he made him happy every time you cried out.
When he felt like he was done he pulled down his trousers. He couldn’t wait as he hurriedly untied them. You knew that there was no going back after this. He held his cock over you. It was thick and veiny with an angry red tip. It had you choking just by the look at it. You held your breath and closed your eyes as he slid it back and forth till he was slick enough with your wetness.
Slowly he entered and all the air inside your lungs left you. It was a piercing sensation that took over the bottom half of your body. It was so painful, every waking moment made you feel like you were on the verge of passing out.
“Relax… my maiden relax,” he said.
Relax? After being taken against your will and being violated in the worst possible way. You wanted to hurt him, a feeling that you’ve never felt before. You wanted to kill him. You couldn’t even move or breathe for that matter.
What disgusted you the most was his moans as he thrusts slowly, lovingly even. He was so infatuated by your beauty that he didn’t even notice the fact that your face looked so disgusted by the sight of him.
It finally got easier after what felt like hours of him just thrusting into you. It felt like it was never-ending. If this was what it felt like to be with someone you’re supposed to love you were having none of it. It was like the devil himself made his own personal hell for you. His thrusts, his pants that were all over your face and neck, and his hands constantly touching you.
You felt like you were about to break apart. And break apart you did. This feeling that was so overwhelming it had your legs wanting to close. Your body was quivering so hard you thought maybe this was it. The small death before absolution.
Your gasps and pants fell from your lips and continued to come out as the hunter got faster and faster. He wasn’t done. Not yet not when he was so close. He did one final thrust that had him calling out to the gods above.
Wet and sticky was all you felt when he pulled himself from you. You couldn’t bring yourself to sit up to look at what he did to you. There was no way you could’ve handled it. So you lay there as he pulled on his clothes. He removed your restraints mostly because he knew you wouldn’t get up and run around. There was no way you could’ve not with the aching pain between your legs.
You hear the hunter pick up something and start to hit your tree. Your willow tree. You ran towards him. You didn’t know where the sudden energy came from but you knew that you needed to stop whatever he was doing. He pushed you down before swinging his axe again.
“I’m freeing you, my dear maiden.”
One… two… three more strikes and your tree was down. You felt tears form at the base of your eye-line. You hugged the tree, crying into it. Whispering sorrows and pleas for forgiveness. You didn’t do anything to it but you still as though you needed to ask it for forgiveness. You shook as you sobbed into the bark. You wanted nothing more than to disappear. Go to a place where this hunter could never hurt you again.
You had nowhere to go now. No home to call yours. He gently picked you up as you sobbed. You sobbed in his chest the whole way towards the edge of the forest. He took you. He took something that didn’t belong to him. You felt yourself fading as soon as he stepped one foot out of the forest. You didn’t know what was happening only that you could feel your energy slipping away.
Peter screamed and fell to his knees when he saw your body practically turn into dust and in your stead of where the powder of your body used to be grew a flower. It was beautiful. One he had never seen before. He touched the flower and his body stayed in that position as if a punishment for taking something from the forest that was never meant to leave.
summary: peter's a nice guy, you liked him. key word being liked.
warning: non-con, slut-shaming (no nsfw/smut)
pairing: dark!peter x fem!reader
word count: 1.4k+ words (i've never done dark!peter before, just playing around with the idea)
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this can technically be read as either a 2nd part to this, or a stand-alone!
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(first person)
loud music drummed in my ears as narrowly avoided people. if i'm being honest, i'm not quite sure why i agreed to this in the first place.
aliyah, my best friend of seven years, was dead-set on planning a party for me. what type of person would i be to let her down like that? so naturally, i agreed, right?
only now was i regretting this.
the thing is, when she said "party", i thought she meant a couple people. maybe some school friends. i thought that spencer, this guy i just recently started going out with would be there too, but he's just ghosted me. like completely.
i haven't heard from him or anything, sucks, kinda.
...peter. he'd was coming, too.
i wasn't sure what was going on between us. it was subtle flirting, and i thought it was platonic. don't get me wrong, i really did like him at first, but now i'm not sure.
yeah, he's hot. but also not my type. granted, i don't really have a type, though i do think we'd be better off as friends. also, he wasn't the same as he used to be. and i know something's changed, even if i can't pinpoint what it is.
but lately, i'm not sure if we're on the same page about that. everyone thinks we're dating, because apparently you can't be just friends with a guy.
i'm genuinely unsure how to break that to him.
we did try one date, if you could even call it that. peter took me to the movies, but he never quite clarified what it was.
technically, i was a minor at that time, so maybe it was a friendly thing.
it didn't matter though, i told him that i wasn't interested in him. also... spencer, right?
spencer was a guy i'd been talking to, and i won't lie, he's pretty cute.
i don't know. i try not to think about it because it makes my brain hurt. so, uh, yeah. that's that.
lost in my ever loving train of thoughts, i wasn't watching where i was going, and i ran into someone.
not just someone.
peter, of all people. the one guy i was trying to avoid.
lovely. absolutely lovely.
"heyyy, birthday girl! how's the party?"
"uh. yeah, it's... awesome," i winced.
"not your scene? okay, but, like, bright side?" he paused, as if he were waiting for me to say something, but when i didn't, he continued. "you're a legal adult! not a minor anymore, right?"
he had this unusual twinkle in his eye, like there was more to unpack. peter pulled me close to him, chugging wherever it was in the red solo cup he had in his hand.
pete's hand... was lower than comfortable, but i figured it was best not to say anything.
it was obvious he was totally out of it, and i inhaled sharply at the sharp stench of alcohol.
"wanna get out of here?" he asked, gripping me harder.
"um..." i wasn't sure what he was implying, because he literally could. not. take me anywhere.
"c'mon."
"wait, i—"
too late. i was already being dragged out the door. pete brought me out in front of his car... well, his old truck.
"no, no, no. you're way too drunk to drive, peter. you aren't taking me anywhere."
he groaned, rolling his eyes. "buzzkill."
i inhaled sharply, stopping myself from getting upset. he wouldn't normally do something like this... right?
"all right, fine, fine," he slurred. "h-how about... ooh! let's go to my place!"
i hesitated, unsure of how comfortable i felt with that. especially since he'd been so weird, with all the touching. i knew that he didn't live in a dorm and—
wait, what?
no, no. peter and i were friends, and i could trust him, right? it could have been the alcohol that was making the edges of my brain turn fuzzy, but i finally agreed.
"um, okay."
"mm. it's like..." pete hiccuped, and mentally facepalmed. "somewhere here."
"you're lucky i know the way, dummy." i said, smacking his head. he did nothing but grin back at me.
we walked in silence, or i did really, while he babbled on about the most random things. i didn't mind it, considering he was drunk.
it was chilly outside, and the cold air nipped at my skin, making me shiver. peter must have noticed this, because he swung a hand over my shoulders, lazily pulling me close.
i thought it best not to say anything, and also, he was warm. so, i guess i wasn't complaining all that much.
eventually, we got to his place. he fumbled with the keys, trying to shove it into the lock. unsuccessfully, might i add.
getting tired, i took them from him, unlocking the door.
"there we go." i pushed him inside, shutting the door behind me. "how about we get you come water?" peter didn't argue as i pulled open a cabinet, grabbing a cup. i filled it up with water for him and handed it over.
"drink it. all of it."
"yes, mom."
it seemed like that helped him sober up slightly, and i flopped down on the couch. that party had exhausted me altogether. peter was quiet as he sat down next to me, rubbing his eyes.
he looked over at me, but i kept my eyes fixed at the tv in front. i was flipping though channels, trying to find something good.
"look at me," he whispered.
i sucked in a breath, turning my head to do so, "yeah?"
and then, that's when it happened. so quickly and roughly, i didn't even register it. because one second we were face to face, and the next, he was grabbing my face, kissing me.
instantly, i pulled away, looking at him in horror. "what the fuck, peter? you can't— you can't do that!"
"do what?" he stared dumbly.
i just blinked at him, confused. "i..."
he kissed me, without consent. that wasn't okay, right? peter just looked at me, raising an eyebrow. was this because he was drunk?
"well, i- you just kissed me?"
"so? i thought you were chill. besides, you were basically asking for this."
what did he mean? asking for it? i wasn't asking for anything. i didn't even like him like that, and i thought he knew that. well, i mean, i was pretty sure. kind of.
"b-but i wasn't." i was trying to make my voice more firm, but it probably (most likely) sounded very pathetic. clearing my throat, i tried again, "peter, i don't like you that way. as a friend, of course, but not... not more than that. this one time it's okay, since i guess it's also on me for not making that clear."
"don't like me that way? are you serious?"
"well-"
"you come around, to my house, dressed in that, and you expect me to think we're just friends? i did you the favor of waiting until you were 'of legal age' and all that crap, so what the fuck are you on about?"
"pe-"
"you've literally been sleazing around like a slut, practically begging for attention."
no, he was reading this wrong. i met him at the cafe i worked at, and we hit it off. as friends. besides, he was older than me. well, not by much, but still. and what did he mean by "slut"? it was my birthday party! that i didn't even want to be at! peter was the one who invited me here, right?
"and, on top of that, you've been leading me on. now that's fucked up."
"leading-? yes, okay, maybe a little. and- and i'm really sorry about that, but-" i backed up into the couch, trying to move away from him.
"i love you, y/n/n. and," he scoffed, "and i can treat you way better then any of these other guys."
love? he loves me? how- we've only known each other for a couple months.
i thought, if anything, this was platonic flirting. was this really my fault?
"i think i should go, peter, we can talk later." i was uncomfortable now. no, past that.
i was scared.
peter was scaring me.
"i'm not into you, and i'm-"
"seeing that other guy?" he finished. "what was his name, again? spencer? ever wonder what happened to him?" there was a dangerous look in his eye, and that's all it took for me to understand.
"oh my god, what did you do?"
"what i needed to," peter pinned my hands above the wall, "i was gonna wait, and do this the nice way, but you've left me with no choice."
"no, please, peter," i choked out, tears streaming down my face.
"this is your fault, y/n."
and it must have been. i hurt him, so this was only fair.
summary | The Avengers go on a mission leaving you all alone, which gives Peter the perfect opportunity to finally claim you as his
warnings | softdark!peter, stalking, drugging, delusional!peter, noncon, sex toys, squirting, loss of virginity (f.), pet names, 18+
this is an eighteen plus fic. minors please do not enter
dividers by @firefly-graphics
It was quiet in the compound. That was the first thing you noticed when you walked in after class, exhausted from all the talk about your senior project and the theme of prom.
You had been tired, and slightly agitated knowing that even though you were going home early due to being a senior, you still wouldn’t get any peace and quiet, seeing as you did live with the Avengers.
You had braced yourself for the upcoming ruckus, perhaps Sam and Bucky arguing again or maybe even your dad and Steve getting into it. You were prepared to dash straight to your room and not even acknowledge anybody, but alas, you didn’t have to.
It was quiet.
The second thing you noticed was the note taped to the fridge, written in your father’s handwriting. You curiously snatched it off and then drunk in the words, getting more and more excited by the second as you read it.
Hey there Rockstar,
Fury called us all away on a last minute mission and Pep is away on a business meeting so you have the whole house to yourself. Don’t do anything I would do, and definitely don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.
Love, Dad
PS, NO BOYS!!!!!!
You laughed to yourself, noticing that boys was highlighted, underlined, and accompanied by several exclamation marks. Shaking your head at your dad, you smiled before discarding the note.
Inside, you couldn’t deny the excitement that bubbled up at the thought of finally having the whole tower to yourself. Peace and quiet, which was so rare you really and truly didn’t even know what to do with yourself.
You looked around, half expecting it to be a prank and for your chaotic family to walk through the doors at any minute. You stared at the elevator, but as the seconds ticked by your smile only grew, realizing that they were really and truly gone.
“Whoohoo!”
You didn’t care if it was cringey, or even if your dad had cameras recording you at that very moment. You were just so excited that you ran laps around the compound, laughing and hollering until finally you got tired, collapsing on the couch with heavy breaths.
You grinned as you noticed that you didn’t have to fight anybody for a spot, picking up the remote and putting on a show that you wanted to watch for once.
Gossip Girl started to play and you realized that it had been a while since you’d watched it and you needed to catch up. That would be easy now since you had nobody bugging you to do your homework or to change the channel to something they wanted to watch instead.
So, you made yourself comfortable on the couch and even brought over a few snacks, eventually settling down and preparing to enjoy your peaceful night alone.
You weren’t sure when it was that you fell asleep, but you knew the minute that you woke up it had already been a few hours. The moment your eyes peeled open, the bright lights of New York City greeted you through the glass panel windows. It was nighttime, and after checking your phone, you were informed that it was 11 o’clock actually. Not too late, but you had already gotten some well-needed sleep so you knew that you weren’t going back to sleep anytime soon.
Since it was a Friday, you excitedly realized that you could pull an all-nighter and enjoy your time before the Avengers got back. Tony didn’t say when, but if it was all of them, you knew they’d get things done quickly. You probably only had a day to enjoy your freedom and good god, what where you going to do?
You didn’t know when another opportunity like this would arise, so you knew you had to pull out the full works.
Binge watching your favorite show? Check.
Eating your favorite snacks without someone else reaching their grubby little hands over (mainly Tony) and forcing you to share? Check.
Bubble bath? Not yet, but you figured you’d get started on that so you could wash away all the crumbs you had accidentally spilled on yourself while you were asleep.
Standing up, you yawned and slightly stretched before grabbing your dishes and lazily throwing them in the sink. You’d worry about them later or hell, you’d even ask Friday to clean them. They were the least of your concern, so you trudged your way to your bedroom, tired but excited for your bath.
You went to the bathroom and drew your water, throwing in a few fancy bath bombs and soaps Tony had gotten you from Italy. The sweet aroma filled the luxurious bathroom, and you sighed, sitting on the edge of the tub as you watched the water fill up.
Somewhere along the lines, you had changed into nothing but a robe and you were all too eager to strip the minute the water got to your liking. You had also grabbed your phone and your speaker for music and a few candles to really set the relaxing vibe.
After setting everything up, you eagerly tied your hair up so that it wouldn’t get wet, ripped open a facemask, and then it was time to finally sink into the water.
You let out a sigh of content the moment your body settled into the warm bath, the water seemingly sinking into your bones and erasing every trace of anxiety that you had.
It was so soothing that you sunk down until the only thing that wasn’t covered by water was your hair, mouth and nose. You breathed in the sweet scents and allowed yourself to relax, closing your eyes and letting everything go as the light from the candles flickered all around you.
You figured the only thing that could make the experience better was possibly sneaking some of Tony’s gourmet wine, but you were already in the tub and didn’t feel like moving. Plus, you knew your dad would kill you and probably take away your suit as punishment.
You didn’t want to take that risk so you decided that you were fine on the alcoholic beverages — at least until you were sure he wouldn’t know about it.
You decided to just enjoy yourself in other ways, like splashing at the bubbles and popping them with your fingernails.
You giggled as some of the soap got on your face, playing in the bubbles like a child. You scooped them up, waved them around, and even gave yourself a makeshift Gotye like your dad, making sure to take a picture before finally washing it all off.
You laughed again, shaking your head at your childish antics before going back to relaxing. You closed your eyes, and you rested for at least thirty minutes before you finally decided to get out.
Your makeshift spa had come to an end, so you drained the water, threw away the face mask, and put your robe back on along with your house slippers.
You made your way into your bedroom and blew out all the candles, leaving your room to be lit up by the ever glowing city lights below.
It was one of the things you loved most about New York, and despite it being the city that got destroyed the most (mainly because of the Avengers), it was home, and you knew you didn’t want to live anyplace else.
The city lights always made you feel comfortable, almost like wrapping you in a blanket and reassuring you that you were almost never alone.
Sure, in the tower you were, but there were plenty of people still around you, walking below you, across the street from you, two buildings over…
In New York, there were always people out, night or day, and often times like now you loved to just sit on the balcony and watch them.
You watched as a woman walked her dog, as a couple argued over which restaurant to eat at. You watch the musicians on the street, wishing that you were down there to maybe put some money in their guitar cases. You watched the crackheads run around, and everybody else pretend that they didn’t see them, and you even watched all of the stray animals that scurried about the big city, always running as if they had places to be too.
You watched it all, and you don’t know when, but somewhere along the lines you started to get the feeling that maybe you were being watched, too.
You knew it was ridiculous seeing as you were alone in the tower, but the more you stayed on that balcony, the more that you were convinced that somebody had eyes on you as well. Which was plausible, but also nearly impossible.
You were fifty stories above the ground and no building even came close to the height of Stark Tower, so it would be almost impossible to see you unless someone had a telescope. But you didn’t see any anybody on the street with one, and even binoculars wouldn’t be enough to see that far up. You were a mere spec in the night, dust that could’ve easily been mistaken as a stars. There was no way that anybody could see you. They’d have to be super human or something; and all of the super humans you knew were currently out on a mission.
You shook your head.
It was impossible; or at least that’s what you told yourself until the feeling grew to be so uncomfortable that you decided to just go back inside.
You quickly gathered your things from the balcony and when you did step back in your room, you made sure to lock the door, letting out a little breath and shaking your head.
You knew it was ridiculous, but living with super soldiers and spies made you paranoid. So yeah, if your gut was telling you that someone was watching you, or at least that something was making you uncomfortable, you were going to listen.
It might just be nothing, but then again, in the city that never sleeps, almost everything was possible.
You weren’t sure what time it was when you heard it.
After all, you had been fast asleep, knocking out quick after a relaxing night and abandoning your all-nighter. You had called it a night after the incident on the balcony, and you had planned to wake up early, but not quite this early.
When you opened your eyes, it was still dark outside, but you could tell that in a few hours the sun was going to peek out. That meant it was probably around 4 a.m but you frowned, because why in the world would you be hearing things at 4 in the morning?
Things like the sliding door of your balcony opening, things like the wind as it gently blew in your room. Things like footsteps which unfortunately, you didn’t hear until it was too late.
You didn’t hear or see him until it was entirely too late. You couldn’t even process the situation, or fight him off because by the time your foggy brain woke up, he had already crossed the room; a dark shadow that jumped at you the minute you laid your eyes on him.
Then, when you felt the pinch in your neck, it was really too late.
“Ouch!” You exclaimed loudly, shock beginning to fester through your veins which quickly turned to fear as a glove hand smacked over your lips, stopping you from yelling anymore. “Ow, wha…”
“Shh,” His voice terrified you as he leaned in close to your shaking body, the silhouette of his head shaking in the city lights. “You have to be quiet, baby. Friday might hear us.”
Friday. Friday. How the hell did this person know about your AI, and most importantly, how the hell did he manage to sneak past something designed by Tony Stark himself?
How the hell did he get in your room, and what did he want?
You screamed again as the pressure from your lips was released, but you found that it was futile because for some reason, it didn’t come out quite as loud as you wanted.
Your screams were muted; low. Sluggish and sloppy, as if you were drunk. Which was ridiculous because you had refrained from raiding Tony’s stash.
There was no way that you were drunk, but as the man got up from your bed, and as you tried to make a run for it, you found that it quite literally felt like it. Your body stumbled, and a low grown escaped your lips as your knees automatically hit the floor the minute you tried to get up.
Everything was blurry and wobbly, even your screams sounding muted as you dug your fingernails into the marble floors and tried to crawl away from whoever was trying to attack you.
You were trying to do something, but it felt like the more you moved your body, the more tired you began to get.
You tried, but the man quickly rushed over and grabbed you up before you could make your escape.
“Please…please help…”
“Shh,” He cut you off again as you whimpered, him hauling you to your feet and lightly dragging you back to your bed with little resistance from you. Your body felt like literal lead, tied down and helpless.
You tried to cry out, you tried to protest as he laid you on your bed, the little nightgown that you had on riding up slowly, but you found that the sounds only came out slow, gargled. At most, all you could do was stare at the strange man as he finally decided to reveal himself.
“Shh Y/N, you don’t want to do anything that’ll alert Mr. Stark,” He said, and as he set his mask down on the edge of your bed, and as familiarity of his voice floated through your ears, your mouth dropped when you realized exactly who had snuck in your room.
“Peter?”
The realization hit you like a train, a strangle noise leaving your throat as you recognized your father’s latest protégé. He sat on your bed, fluffy brown hair and gentle eyes just as you remembered, a soft smile on his face as he looked at you.
Of course, you’d recognize him anywhere, seeing as you often interacted with him around the tower or at school.
You’d seen him in the hallways, in some of your classes, and you’d even hang out with him and his friends sometimes.
He was a senior like you, destined for MIT and an eventual spot on the Avengers, if your father had anything to say about it.
It was…it was Peter.
That awkward boy that you had mostly only seen in passing. It was Peter, the nerdy yet gold-hearted superhero that wouldn’t hurt a fly.
Peter. It had been Peter that snuck into your room.
“Hey, hey,” He reached out to touch your cheek as you slowly began to cry, the drugs taking its affects as you slump down helplessly on your mattress. You wanted to scream, you wanted to run, you wanted to slap his hand away from your cheeks as he stroked them like he was comforting you. As if he wasn’t the reason you were crying. “Don’t cry princess. Please don’t cry. I’ve been thinking about this for months and I want this to be as enjoyable as possible, so save your tears, okay?”
“Months?!” You wanted to yell out, but instead the words were trapped in your brain, ricocheting around your mind as your thoughts raced at a record pace. What did he mean by…months? Had he been planning this all along?
Oh God, he actually…
It was with another sob that you realized just how truly in danger you were, because somewhere along the lines you had missed this side of Peter and you realized that he had deliberately done this. He waited until you were alone to do this. He had waited, and he had watched you for who knows how long, and you had been oblivious to it all until this very night.
You had underestimated him, and he used it against you in the worst possible way. He had used your father and the other Avengers in the worst way, betraying their trust by stalking the person they all considered a daughter.
Peter had planned this for months. And it was with wide eyes that you saw just how prepared he was when suddenly, he pulled something out of a bag that made you cry even harder.
“I can’t wait to use this on you princess.” He held the sex toy tightly in his right hand while you attempted to kick him, but your legs wouldn’t move. “I’m gonna make you feel so good. You know I’ve thought about this for a while now, right? I’ve thought about what it would be like to pleasure you. To hold you, to taste you. I thought about your body so fucking much and honestly, I’m surprised I even waited this long.”
He chuckled, like what he said was actually funny and you let out another noise as he began to come towards you with the toy.
Suddenly, you regretted wearing a nightgown with no panties because it made it all the more easier for him to just slip it up, revealing your very naked cunt that Peter grinned at.
“It’s like you were expecting me baby,” He teased, and you cried out as he removed his gloves, allowing you to feel his touch in it’s entirety as his hands slipped over your body.
You started to struggle, but then you remembered it was only your mind in turmoil because your body didn’t seem to be moving. Whatever he had injected you with made you feel like cement, so you were helpless as his hands roamed all over your body.
You were forced to stay still as they first landed on your stomach, before daring to go up and eventually caressing your boob.
You cried out, but Peter didn’t stop due to the tears leaking down your face. In fact, you only saw him hesitate for a moment before he finally slipped his hand underneath your nightgown.
He was touching your nipple.
You wanted nothing more than to stop him, but it just wasn’t possible. You were forced to let him roll the bud between his fingers, forced to feel him touch your body. And it wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t fair that his hands were the first to ever roam your body, and you didn’t even get a say in it. You didn’t have a say in anything he planned to do to you, but you naively prayed that this was it.
You didn’t want to think about him going even further than he already had, but then he dipped his head down to your chest, and you knew that this was only the beginning.
Peter’s mouth came into contact with your nipple before you could even process it, his soft lips wrapping around the bud and his tongue darting out to lick at it as you cried.
His brown curls invaded your face as his lips remained on your breast; licking, sucking, and nagging your body into feeling pleasure that you didn’t want to feel.
He used his tongue to send sparks through your core, heat rushing through you, which you tried to stop. You tried to stop the way your lips parted, the way your legs seemed to open involuntarily. You tried to stop your brain from registering the fact that Peter’s mouth was causing you immense pleasure, because you hated yourself for even thinking that.
You were ashamed.
At your thoughts, at your weak body as Peter’s mouth finally left your breast, a small trail of saliva retreating with him. He looked up at you with a sparkle in his eyes that made your stomach lurch before he finally decided to move elsewhere. You whimpered as his hand gently opened your legs, his fingers finding the one spot you never wanted him to.
“Please…Peter don’t—”
His fingers brushed over your sensitive bud and you gasped, quiet sobs begging him not to touch you there. Unfortunately though, Peter mistook your sounds of protest as sounds of pleasure and eagerly looked up at you again.
“Yeah, you like that don’t you?” Peter chuckled, then he pressed a little harder which caused you to quiver and flutter your eyes shut in shame and pleasure. “You like me playing with your pussy, don’t you pretty baby. It’s okay…you can let me know how good it feels.”
“Please,” You opened your mouth to beg him to stop but somehow only that word came out. Peter smiled.
“It’s okay, it’s okay baby. I’m gonna take care of you, all right?” He promised, and you were fearful when his hand left your clit. After a few seconds, cold metal suddenly replaced his skin, which only meant one thing.
“No—!”
Your protest was too late and even if he had heard you, he hadn’t listen to any of the other ones, so you knew he would’ve just kept going. He would’ve turned on the vibrator anyways and took pleasure in the way your body suddenly jerked — the only movement you were capable of so far as you cried out, blubbering as the vibrations travelled through your body.
Peter watched your face as your body shook, taking in the way the tears soaked your cheeks and how pretty you looked in the city lights. He took in the way your mouth was slightly open, but you hadn’t been able to form any words because you were experiencing far too much pleasure.
So much sinful pleasure, that it only made you cry and whimper. Ashamed that you were actually getting off on what Peter was doing to you and you couldn’t stop it. You couldn’t stop the involuntary movements of your body anymore than you could move it, and you certainly couldn’t stop the rolls of pleasure that gathered in your core as every vibration seemed to sink into you.
You couldn’t stop the cries from your lips, the way you held eye contact with Peter as he held your hand and gently coaxed you through your orgasm.
Suddenly, your shame and humiliation was set to the side and long forgotten about when you finally did let go, letting out a strangled cry and sobbing as your first orgasm racked your body.
Your were shaking, pleasure nearly blinding you as your cum leaked out. Your brain felt like it was clouded, your vision replaced with stars but still you could see the sick smile of satisfaction on Peter’s face as he squeezed your hand gently.
“That’s it…that’s it pretty girl. Cum for me.”
“P-Peter…”
Your voice was broken, your face covered in sweat and tears to the point where you were sure you were unrecognizable. Not only that, but it seemed like every part of your body was either soaked in tears or cum now. The covers beneath you felt soaked as well, and it wasn’t until Peter stood up that you realized why.
You eyed the huge wet spot on the front of his suit and it only took you few seconds to realize what had happened.
With quivering lips, you tried to shake your head with denial but the evidence was indisputable.
It was obvious to you, to Peter, that you hadn’t just came.
You had squirted.
A strangled sob left your lips and — god, if Peter wasn’t smug before, he sure had reason to be now.
“Look at you…such a good girl. I can’t believe you actually squirted for me sweetheart. You’re gonna be nice and wet for me, I can’t wait.”
You just kept crying as everything hit you at once, your ears still ringing and your cunt still sore from your orgasm. Your first orgasm, and if that weren’t bad enough, you had also squirted all over Peter which made him think you liked it.
He thought you liked the way that he made you cum; he thought you liked being a helpless puppet, having no choice but to submit to his mercy.
He thought you wanted him inside of you, which was the worst possible scenario that you could think of.
But it was happening.
You knew it was happening because immediately after you squirted, he laid the vibrator down and in what seemed like a flash, began to strip out the suit that covered the rest of his body.
As best as you could, you tried not to look as his underwear came off as well, but you found it fruitless because Peter grabbed your chin anyway.
He grabbed your chin, and he made you look at him so that you could see his eyes. While yours were glistening with tears that he had caused, his were glistening with the admiration he held for you.
The sick obsession that made him have to have you.
He made you take a glance at what was to come, and before you could even start crying again, he let go of your chin and kissed you so passionately that had it not been for your common sense, your brain would’ve mistaken it as a kiss from a lover.
It was so soft, so passionate, that even though you knew what he was capable of, it was still hard to believe it because well…he was gentle. Gentle, like he was trying not to break you.
Even though he already had.
It seemed like he truly cared about you, and that was the worst part because you knew he wouldn’t stop. And he didn’t.
He kept kissing you and moaning in your mouth, making sure to explore every inch with his tongue and savoring your taste. You tasted sweet, but also bitter like a cherry.
Peter appreciated the irony of this as he deepened the kiss, finally maneuvering himself on top of you. You felt the weight of his body and it felt like it was gonna crush you as he spread your legs. He then settled himself between them, causing the tip of his cock to accidentally brush over your clit. You cried out, but Peter quickly swallowed your cries and there was nothing else that you could do.
This is truly what Peter believed to be right, and in that moment, you accepted defeat, numb as he pulled away from the kiss.
“Tell me if it hurts, okay princess? I’ll try to go as slow as I can,” He reassured you, pressing his forehead to yours. Your hiccups were only thing he got in response, teary eyes peeking up at him.
Through the tears, you could see him smile at you before grabbing your hands and holding them tenderly at your sides. Not that you could move anyways, but you suspect he just did it so that he could lace his fingers through yours.
Then, he spread your legs some more to line himself up with your entrance. He kissed your cheeks, your neck, and even placed tiny kisses on your nipples before he bought himself back up and looked into your eyes.
“I love you,” He said, and then he pushed into you.
“Pe—”
You gasped, as pain traveled through every part of your body, mainly concentrating in your lower regions as Peter pushed himself in and ignored the way you sobbed for him to stop.
It was like he couldn’t even hear you as his eyes fluttered shut, focusing on sinking into your cunt and pushing past every plane of resistance until he was finally where he needed to be.
Buried inside of you to the hilt, his balls against your ass as the squelch of your cum mixed in with your blood reached his ears.
He moved, and you wished you had regained enough feeling to fight him off. But you didn’t, so you were forced to lay there as Peter rocked his hips into yours, moaning like he had just bit into something sweet.
“Fuck.”
He swore as he abused your cunt, his pace fast but gentle. Peter wanted you to enjoy this, he told you, so he tried not to pound into you no matter how much he wanted to. No matter how much he wanted to be rough, he knew that this was your first time, and he wanted it to be memorable.
He wanted it to be special, so he held himself back and instead decided to focus on you as he continued to thrust into your heat.
He kissed you again, and then his hands left yours so that he could wrap them around your body. Pulling you close so that there truly was no space between the two of you. His chest was touching yours, his cock as deep as it could go. In that moment, you and Peter were truly combined as one, and there was nothing you could do to escape that.
There was nothing you could anymore; not even cry because he had taken your mouth from you as well.
There was nothing you could do as he moaned and fucked you and whispered sweet promises in your ear about how much he loved you, how special you were to him, and how much he couldn’t wait to fill you up.
You dreaded every word, tried to block out every whisper but it was like he was there, invading your every sense and there was nothing you could do to escape from him.
“I’m close,” Peter panted in your ear, clenching his face and slightly speeding up.
You gazed up at him, but you weren’t really looking at him, instead focusing on the ceiling as Peter used your body for his own source of pleasure. You didn’t say anything as he continued to rock his hips into yours, his trusts almost painfully passionate. Each drag of his cock against your walls felt like it had a purpose, and Peter made sure you felt every single inch of him.
There wasn’t any part of him that you didn’t feel. There was no emotion, no feeling spared.
Peter poured everything he had into you until finally, his own thread began to unwind and you winced when he suddenly stilled, cock shuttering inside of you.
You continued to look at the ceiling, but your vision became blurred as you felt his cum paint your walls, flooding directly into your womb.
Peter had gone as deep as he could to release himself inside of you, and when he was done, he collapsed and didn’t bother getting up so that you could get every last drop.
He was still inside of you to the hilt as he lay his head on your chest, squeezing you with his arms still wrapped around you.
He made no move to get up, no move to clean you or himself. He only laid there, basking in the pleasure that just happened to him.
The nightmare that just happened to you.
Peter didn’t move, only shifted as he finally looked up, resting his forehead on yours and smiling.
“I love you, princess,” He said, and suddenly, all of the lights in New York couldn’t brighten the darkness that you felt.
tw // kidnapping, non-consensual picture taking, stalking, shitty friend activties, peter is a perv! (also posted on ao3 under angelkook)
dark content ahead! 18+
“peter! hey!” you rush over, pushing past the many fast-paced new yorkers.
“(y/n)!” peter perks up, holding two coffees and a camera slung around his shoulder. the weather was frosty, people were preparing for an awful winter storm over the weekend, and you had promised to meet peter for coffee after work.
“ahh, oh my gosh, thank you so much.” you almost moan as the coffee warms you up.
“you took your time getting here,” he laughs, he takes his camera out to take pictures of bystanders before turning it to you. “pose, please.” you freeze, coffee cup against your mouth. “perfect.” he looks at it for a couple seconds before turning it to you.
you smile, “peter parker, you are the only one capable of taking good pictures of me.” he shrugs, but you see the embarrassment creep up his face. you walk together, catching each other up. both of you end up walking through a park. aside from the quiet clicking of peter’s camera and the chirps of the birds, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you. soon you’re both in front of your apartment.
“thanks for coming, (y/n).” he smiles.
“it was nice catching up with you, pete.” you hug peter and he blushes again. “we should do this again sometime, once work settles down.” you smile.
“i’ll-i’ll send you the pictures later.” he turns away, putting his camera in his bag. you bite your cheek, stopping your laugh. the both of you part and the rest of your day progresses as normal.
at night, you’re awoken by a sound. something like clicking.
“it’s probably just some dumb kids.” you assure yourself, rolling over. your eyes close, but you sit up after hearing the clicks once more. you sit up, annoyed. you look towards your window, contemplating yelling at whoever’s on the roof, but see someone standing there. your eyes go wide, your breathing stops. their hands press against the glass of the window. the room turns cold and you can’t move. their hands start to, carefully slide open the window. right then, your body turns back on and you jump out of bed, sprinting to the door. you hear the window slam open and you start screaming. you get to the front door and unlock the deadbolts, but before you could open it. a hand slams against the door, cornering you. you face the door, shaking, too afraid to face the trespasser. their arms cage you against the door.
“(y/n).” the hairs on your neck stands as you hear the voice. “do you know who i am?” his voice was dark, almost teasing. you turn, careful not to brush against the arms trapping you.
“spiderman?” you recognize the masked man. you let out a breath, slumping against the door. “spiderman, oh my gosh, i thought you were some pervert.” you laugh nervously, ignoring the fact that the hero broke into your home after watching you from your window. he doesn’t respond, only using a hand to stroke your cheek. you frown, weirded out. “spiderman?”
“i love you.” your blood runs cold. you swallow.
“what- what are you talking about?’ spiderman chuckles. your body feels numb.
“i’ve loved you for so long, but i was going to keep it inside you know?” you try to move his arms, but he wouldn’t budge. “but, i don’t think i can hold back anymore.” you feel your throat close up, as your situation sets in. “the pictures aren’t enough for me anymore.” he shakes his head.
“p-pictures?” you respond, meekly. he wraps a hand around your throat and slams you against your door, you feel the wind get knocked out of you. you start screaming, praying someone will hear, scratching and kicking wherever you can. spiderman doesn’t seem fazed by your panic.
he shushes you, “don’t worry, (y/n), you’ll be okay. just give in.” his hand around your throat tightens. your vision goes dark as you start losing air. you’re fighting your body as it tries to give up. his grip tightens once more and you pass out.
when you wake up, your hands strapped to a bed. you try to look down and see that you’re wearing the same t-shirt and shorts you had slept in. sunlight streams in and you recognize the posters and clothing.
“peter?” you rasp, your throat sore. you start to remember everything that had happened before you lost consciousness. you close your eyes as tears start to well up.
“you’re awake!” you open your eyes and peter’s bright smile enters your view. “i didn’t know when you’d wake up… i was worried i had…” he looks away. “but everything’s fine.” he smiles and crouches down next to you. he places a glass of water on the nightstand next to you.
“peter… you’re spiderman?” you choke out. he jumps up and helps you sit up, loosening the straps a little. he places the glass to your lips and you, gladly drink, spilling water on your t-shirt. he pulls the glass away once you had finished. you clear your throat. “why did you fucking KID-” peter claps a hand over your mouth.
“i’m not hurting you, (y/n), i love you!” peter pleads, but you only feel disgust. you most show it on your face, because peter stands, hurt. “i’ll show you. i’ll show you how much i love you.” peter goes to the desk at the corner of the room and digs through his dresser. he pulls out a thick binder. he drops it onto your lap and signals you to move. you’re forced to shimmy to the side and he sits beside you, pressing himself to your side. he opens the binder and your eyes go wide. all of the pictures were of you. “i’ve known you were the one since the moment we met. i saved every picture i’ve taken of you.” he smiles, laughing slightly. you look over at him, horrified. “look, these are the ones i took of you the day we met.” you look and realize that these are ones he’s taken of you at the park, but farther down were pictures of you in your home. he flips through and you see glimpses of pictures of you sleeping, getting dressed, taking a shower. you feel bile rise up your throat.
“how could you, peter?” tears are running down your face, “we were friends, how could you DO THIS TO ME.” you scream and peter slams the binder closed. you start screaming again, hoping his neighbors would hear, but peter stares at you. he gets up, shaking his head.
unimpressed, he rolls his eyes, “no one will hear you, (y/n), stop your tantrum.” you sob and peter sighs. he grabs his binder and puts it back on his nightstand. “i’ll be back later to give you something to eat.” he opens the door, but pauses, “by the way, you don’t have to worry about working anymore.” he smiles and shuts the door. you scream, sobbing. you can feel yourself get nauseous once more and you turn to the edge. you throw up, sobbing. you fall back, struggling against the binds. you give up once everything starts to hurt and cry yourself to sleep.
you’re woken up by peter picking you up. “silly girl, crying so hard you throw up.” he quietly chuckles. you keep your eyes closed, making a plan that once the door is open, you could startle him and escape. you smell the vomit on your shirt.
when peter opens the door, he whispers to you, “i know you’re awake, baby, don’t try anything stupid.” you open your eyes, and he laughs. “i’m spiderman, (y/n). i know how your heartbeat sounds when you’re sleeping.” you look away, scanning the home, you see the front door right next to the kitchen. he takes you into the bathroom. he puts you down onto your feet. “feel free to leave your clothes at the door, i won’t come in when you’re showering. i’ll replace the old clothes with some new ones.” he closes the door behind him, leaving you alone. you wait a couple of minutes before peeking outside, you see peter in the kitchen. he looks up and waves to you, smiling. you slam the door closed, panicking.
‘spiderman…peter is…spiderman.’ you feel the waves of nausea come back. “i’m fucked.” you mutter to yourself. you can’t talk, breathe, or fucking piss without peter knowing. you want to throw up, scream, and sob all at the same time. you splash yourself with water from the sink and slap your cheeks with your hands. ‘get it together, (y/n). you gotta get out.’ you shake your head and strip down. you carefully open the door to toss your clothes out the door. you quickly close the door again and lock it. you shower quickly, not wanting to be naked and vulnerable for long. but as you were finishing up, you recognized the hair and skin products lined up on the sink. you feel your knees buckle and hold yourself steady on the counter. peter had been watching you for a long time, every single product in the bathroom were the exact products you used. every time you start to dissociate from your situation, you’re brought back to reality. you close your eyes tight, fighting back your tears. ‘i have to get out. there’s no point in crying.’ peter knocks on the door, bringing you out of your thoughts.
“your new clothes are out here, okay, (y/n)?” peter doesn’t say anything more as he walks away. you peek your head out and snatch up the clothes before he turns to look at you. he gave you a pair of shorts and a t-shirt.
“what the hell?” you wipe your eyes, confused. you open the door and call out for him. “peter? w-where’s the rest?”
“rest? rest of what? i gave you my shorts and one of my t-shirts.” he tilts his head, similar to a puppy. you bite back your disdain.
“like a bra, or some underwear, i don’t know.” you press your lips together.
“ah,” he pouts, “i’m sorry, (y/n), i didn’t think to grab your underwear. i have a couple around here, but they have to be washed.” he smiles. ‘oh my god, he’s fucking crazy.’ your eyebrows raise, but you don’t say anything. you close the door and pull on peter’s clothing. you still feel vulnerable with the clothes on, you can smell peter on you. you brush your hair with your fingers, thinking about what to do next. ‘he won’t let me leave now, but if i go along with everything, with his insane delusions. he’ll trust me. with his trust, i’ll be more able to escape.’ you hum, realizing what you’ll have to do. you open the door, uncomfortable in your new clothes. peter brightens when he sees you. “you look beautiful!” he looks at you with adoration, but your skin prickles at his leering. you don’t say anything, only sitting down at the table near his kitchen. he places a plate down and fills it up with food. “i made this for you. it took me a couple tries to get the recipe right, but i think it’s perfect now.” he pushes a fork towards you. you pick it up and start eating, much to your dismay, it tasted good.
you swallow and clear your throat, “it’s- it’s good.” you force a smile on your face. he sighs, seeming relieved.
“good, good. i’ll make this more often for you.” he sits down across from you, stretching his legs out to knock against yours. you force yourself to not move. after a few minutes of silence, peter decides to talk, “are you feeling better?”
you pause, “yeah-yes, i’m feeling a lot better. i’m-i’m thinking more clearly too.” you look up at him, peter’s mouth twists into a smile. you put your fork down. “i-um. i’ve thought a lot about your confession.” he straightens, hearing your tone. peter stays silent, waiting for you to continue. “can you… can you show me the pictures again?” peter presses his lips together, fighting back a grin. he immediately jumps up and runs to the bedroom. you look to the front door, maybe 30 feet away from you. you hold back, knowing better than running from spiderman so soon. you resolve to wait until he trusts you enough to leave you alone in the apartment. peter comes back, “here.” he places it down. you watch peter as you open the binder. you barely register the pictures, focused on keeping a neutral face.
“it’s… nice.” you spit out. peter smiles, softly, oblivious to your blatant lies.
“you like the pictures now?” he shines.
“ye-yeah! i’m very…flattered. i’ve never had someone be so… devoted to me.” you force another smile. “i’m just s-so happy that you’ve finally told me.”
“i’m so glad you’ve come around, (y/n).” he gets up and gets you up. your eyes go wide.
“peter, wait-” peter picks you by the waist and plops you down on the table. you wince as your butt hits the table. “peter, w-what are you doing?” he cups your face in his hands.
“you love me? you really, truly mean it?” peter comes up close to you, your noses almost touching.
“i didn’t-” you stop, seeing his face drop, and he moves away. ‘fuck. i need to do something.’ quickly thinking, you grab him by the face and pull him back. “i love you, peter. every picture, every dirty thought you’ve ever had of me,” you lean in close to his ear to whisper, “turns me on.” you pull away, feeling disgusted with yourself. you feel tears streaming down you face, but peter seems to pay no mind. he swallows, one of his arms drop from your waist to your thighs. fear itches your skin as goosebumps rise all over your skin. you fight the urge to push peter away as his hand trail to your inner thigh.
“i love you, my angel.” he rests his head in the crook of your neck, leaving small kisses along your shoulder. “i’ll keep you safe, sweetheart. i-i’ve had a lot of regrets, things i wish i could’ve changed. but with you, things will change. i will keep you safe.”
Hello dear. Can you write about a y/n who likes peter's dark behaviors? (except killing) in which she feels loved by all this protection directed at her. idk she might have NPD
WARNINGS: Soft! dark Peter; Obsession.
AN: It's Tom Holland's Spiderman. I hope you like this :) Please, reblog and give me feedback.
--
The minute of thick silence after you discover Peter’s secret box filled with pictures of you, clearly taken when you weren’t aware of him, the extraordinary amount of souvenirs such as lip balms, panties, is enough to scare Peter.
You don’t utter a word and Peter fears the worst. You’ve discovered his secret and now you’re gonna hate him. You’re going to leave him and tell everyone about the creep your boyfriend is.
Your face is completely blank and Peter is already getting prepared to get slapped and for you to rush out of the door, screaming and cursing him. But you don’t. Instead, your lips curl into a pleased smirk. Your hand reaches down to grab one of the pictures and you examine it carefully.
“Didn’t know my boyfriend had such amazing photography skills.”
You’re not mad, you’re actually flattered. Your boyfriend is clearly in love with you, you’re completely perfect in his eyes, he only has eyes for you, he does everything for you. If you ignore the way sometimes he’s overbearing, then he’s perfect for you.
And Peter is beyond happy with you accepting this side of yours. Now, he’ll stop restraining himself from ever leaving your side.
He bashes you in compliments, practically worshiping the ground you step on and you find it so sweet. He’s constantly around you, making sure you have every need fulfilled, just like a boyfriend should.
Need help with that assignment? Consider it done. You really wanted that new dress? You’ll get it in a blink of the eye. Are you feeling down and insecure? With Peter you’ll never have to feel that way cause he will kiss you and compliment endlessly and you know that he means every word.
That’s how much he loves you.
And if you ever want someone gone for good, he won't hesitate doing it. Cause it's for you.
Pairing: Dark!Best Friend!Mob!Peter Parker x Barnes!Reader
Summary: After your father can no longer protect you, you are arranged to marry your best friend.
Warnings: sexism, misogyny, talks and mentions of the mob/gangs, arranged marriage, mentions of killing, bullying and blood mentions in flashbacks, Reader is spoiled, mentions of anxiety and nervousness, smut (18+) MINORS DNI, face sitting, oral f receiving, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), loss of virginity, breeding kink, housewife kink?, although this is a dark fic, all smut will be consensual, still your media consumption is your own, read warnings before proceeding
Word Count: 12092
A/N: I'm finally back! I've been working on this for a while and I'm so happy I finally wrote it! I honestly thought this was going to be 5k words yet here we are lol! I hope you all like it! Enjoy! 💕💕💕
Disclaimer: Reader is adopted by Bucky Barnes in this story, she is not biologically related to him. The photos used in the moodboard are also just my depiction of Reader and do not translate to how she is described in the story.
My work should not be copied, reposted, or translated with out my permission; I don't consent to it.
Peter walked along behind you, replying to emails and messages, and even answering a call once while you browse the many selections of luxury shoes. He nodded and hummed to each pair you liked and was glad when you finally selected a few to try on.
Breathing out a laugh, he loved the way your eyes sparkled when you kicked your current heels off and tried the new ones. Some were it and others not, but Peter was more than happy to share his opinion.
Especially when you kindly ask for it.
“I think these are cute,” you smiled, modeling the cheetah print red-bottoms to your best friend. “What do you think?”
He sat comfortably on the white leather bench they had in the middle of the store. His legs spread out wide while he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. You studied him as he thought about your choice of footwear.
Eyes were squinted in thought as he recalled all the other pairs you tried on. He knew which ones you already had on your list to purchase, you did have your father’s money to spend after all. And he knew what pairs you already owned, cheetah print not being one of them.
“The white ones seem more like you,” he referred to the last pair you tried on, rubbing his hand along his thigh as he straightened up a bit.
You liked those too, figured you could pair them with a nice dress or skirt. On the other hand, the cheetah print ones were fun and something you didn’t necessarily choose.
“But what about these?” you asked once more, wanting to know his exact opinion on the current heel you wore.
“I like them too,” he answered, breathing out a sigh, he knew you already had your heart set on getting those as well. “But, they’re not you,” he shrugged, a frown forming on your face when the words slipped past his lips.
Peter was always brutally honest when it came to what looked good on you. Hell, he had amazing taste and over the years you’ve come to realize he had a preference in what you wore.
“What do you mean?” you asked, brows furrowed, you glanced back down at the shoes, wondering how they’re not you. You loved heels, they were totally you.
“I just can’t picture you wearing them,” he explained, offering a small smile to deflate the blow. “But they are nice,” he added, seeing that he kinda hurt you.
The crease in your forehead only grew as you studied them in the mirror again, shifting from one foot and angling them in different positions. They were cute, dainty, and stylish- they checked all the boxes of your criteria, so how could Peter not see you wearing them?
Glancing back at Peter, he stared at you. He was waiting for you to make your decision and now seeing as he gave you his honest opinion, you considered that maybe he was right. He wouldn’t waste his breath if it weren’t true.
They just weren’t you.
“I’m not gonna get them,” you confirmed, reaching to take them off. “I’ll just get the white ones and the mauve,” you said, putting them back in the box, ready to return them to the kind saleswoman.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he stood up, blocking you from walking to the cash register. “I’m sorry, let me buy them for you,” he gently took the box from you.
“I’m not going to let you do that, I made up my mind already,” you argued, trying to grab the shoebox back, but he held it out of your reach.
“Princess,” he cooed, eyes softening as he stared at you. He smiled when you grew coy, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear while you cleared your throat. “I’m buying you these shoes,” he said in a more demanding tone.
“Okay,” you agreed defeatedly.
He passed you a smile before he helped you with the other shoes. The kind saleswoman waited patiently for the two of you, most likely knowing who Peter is and who your father is.
But she presented a warm smile when Peter slid the box of the cheetah print shoes over to her, her delicate hands placing them in a bag while adding them to the transaction.
“I’d also like to buy these as well,” he placed a hand on the two other boxes, the lady nodding all-knowingly before she read out the total amount, your stomach dropping- you couldn’t let Peter buy you three pairs of shoes.
“Peter,” you reached for his hand that already had his black card at the ready. “I just said the one pair,” you looked at him warily.
“Don’t worry about it, princess,” he waved you off, inserting his card before signing, the purchase complete.
Grabbing the bags from the counter, he gathered them along with the other bags you’ve collected from your purchase in previous stores and walked along your side out of the store.
“You’re too kind to me, Peter,” you finally said while you adjusted the few small bags in your hand, the bustling streets of New York filled your ears as you made it back to the car. He kindly opened the door for you before placing the bags in the back of his Lamborghini. “Where to now?”
“Unfortunately, princess, I have a meeting to attend with your father in an hour,” he sighed, shutting the door after him as he checked his watch for the time. “But I had fun as always,” he smiled genuinely, starting the car up.
“We have enough time for brunch,” you shrugged, passing him your best puppy dog eyes.
“I guess we do,” he breathed out a laugh when you squealed from excitement.
~~~~~
Seated outside the cute little restaurant in New York, the late morning sun shone on both of you. You read the menu, unsure of what to get. Usually, when it came time for brunch, you had more of a sweet tooth so your eyes were focused on the pastry section.
“Do you think you’re going to the gala this weekend? We missed you at the last one,” Peter questioned, pulling you from your thoughts.
Peeking over the menu, you caught him staring at you, wearing that adorable bright smile that sent butterflies to your stomach each time. Although, you always ignored them.
He was your best friend and your father’s ally- you couldn’t interfere with business.
“Yeah,” you sighed, placing the menu down. “It’s gonna be boring as always though, especially since you always leave me,” you leaned back in your seat, crossing your knees over the other under the table.
Galas were never an unusual occurrence in your life. One thrown almost every week for something you didn’t care enough to remember. Even though you had no intentions of joining the mob, being the daughter of Bucky Barnes made it difficult to separate that part from your life.
He was the most notorious man in all of New York, branded for his metal arm that he may or may not use to choke the life out of his victims. But underneath that emotionless thick layer was your loving father.
The man that adopted you as a baby and raised you as his. He cherished you, made you his whole world. Which led to the woman you are now.
“But the time I’m with you is always enjoyable,” Peter pointed out, sending you a toothy grin.
“You’re going to be busy networking with other mob leaders the majority of the time, I’m with you for like five minutes,” you stated, a chuckle ringing from him. “Besides, don’t you think it’s time you bring someone other than your friend?” you raised a brow, earning another chuckle from Peter.
“What are you trying to say?” he rested one hand on the table, fingertips centimeters from yours. His calloused hands are a complete juxtaposition from your perfectly manicured ones.
“That it’s time for you to get a girlfriend,” you answered, raising your brows and you reached your hand an inch forward to grasp his hand. “You need someone to ground you back to Earth when you get all hot-headed from work,” you joked, Peter rolled his eyes at your comment.
You saw the way he wanted to avoid this topic. You’ve brought it up countless times when you’ve realized he’s never been in a committed relationship. Even though you seem to have the same problem… but Peter was your main concern right now.
He only stared at your hand for what seemed like forever, but his eyes landed on yours only a few moments later.
“I have you for that, you ground me and I love having you as my date,” he affirmed. “Besides, what about you?” he cocked a brow, catching you off guard.
“Well, my time hasn’t come yet,” you said, shrugging, pulling your hand away.
His hand lingered on the spot yours was seconds ago before he cleared his throat, pulling it back near him.
“Waiting for the right guy, y’know?” you added and he nodded slightly.
Playing the waiting game was your forte. Someday you wish you’ll meet your Prince Charming. A man that will provide for you and protect you, be an amazing father to your children, and give you the respect you deserve.
Some days it seemed like that time would never arrive.
“What if mine hasn’t arrived either?” he tilted his head to the side. “Or maybe I’m just trying to play my cards right?” he shrugged, a glint in his eyes when you smiled wider.
Of course, you said to yourself, head bursting with excitement.
“Who is she?” your eyes lit up at the mention that he might have a girlfriend. “Do I know her? Is she cute? She’s probably cute,” you rambled on, telling him you have to meet her one day, Peter only laughed across the table.
“You know her,” he nodded. “But that’s all I’m going to say,” he stated firmly.
“No, don’t leave me hanging like that,” you whined, Peter shook his head not saying another word.
“I’m sorry, princess,” he partially apologized.
“You’re going to have to stop calling me that if you ever want to get a girlfriend,” you cocked a brow, Peter’s brows raising in amusement.
“Not on my list of priorities, princess,” he grinned before sipping his mimosa.
It was your turn to roll your eyes, the name he’s been calling you since high school made your stomach flutter. But you were willing to let go of the nickname if that meant he finally settled down, even as much as you would miss the way it fell from his lips.
~~~~~
In the following days, Peter had taken you dress shopping for the upcoming gala this week. You ended up picking one that would go perfectly with the mauve shoes you bought earlier. And with Peter being your second mind of judgment, you were quite happy with the selection.
Twirling in your new dress, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, recalling the events that took place only days ago.
“Wow, princess, that’s by far my favorite,” he sat up when you pulled the curtain of the changing room back. His face radiated with admiration and his compliment made your cheeks burn.
“I love it,” you admired yourself in the mirror, loving how the material sat perfectly on top of your assets. “But I’m torn between this one and the brown one,” you huffed. “And I’ve already reached my limit for the week, Dad’s not going to be happy about that,” you bit your lip in thought.
“Let me buy them for you, wear the other one for another day” he proposed. “Mind as well treat my date right,” he stood up, stepping onto the platform to meet you. “Gotta have her in the prettiest dress,” he grabbed your hand, guiding you into a spin.
“You’d do that for me?” you gazed at him, faces inches apart.
“I’d do anything for you,” he grinned, eyes darting to your lips for a quick second.
You loved Peter with all your heart. He was sweet, caring, smart, and charming. There weren’t many men like him and you felt envious of the woman who was going to end up with him. But you just prayed and hoped that the man you fall in love with is just an ounce like him.
For now, though, you’ll be enjoying Peter being your date to events, feeling safe in his arm wrapped around your waist.
“Doll, you look beautiful,” your father smiled as you made your way down the stairs. “Is that a new dress?” he asked, taking your hand to help you with the last step.
“Peter bought it for me a few days ago,” you smiled, letting him place your fur shawl on your shoulders before looping your arm with his.
The way your father’s eyes lit up at the mention of your best friend was always amusing to you. There weren’t many people he liked, but Peter was able to place himself at the top of the list. From the beginning of your friendship in high school, after he beat up a boy for making fun of you, your dad knew Peter had to be kept around.
And he did, from that moment to college to now- your father has always seen Peter as your protector for when he wasn’t around. Not to mention the fact that Peter also came from a wealthy family and now is the leader for the Parker mob- it was impressive in his eyes.
Reminds him of when he was young.
“He’s a good man, I tell you,” he patted your hand. “I’d be lucky if I get to call him my son-in-law one day,” he sent you a look but you playfully rolled your eyes.
“He’s my best friend, Dad, nothing more,” you cocked a brow, stepping inside the elevator of the penthouse before you made your way downstairs where the chauffeur awaited the two of you.
The brisk air still shocked you even after living in New York for so long. The transition from winter to spring left some really warm mornings to colder nights. But as soon as you sat in the car, you relaxed when the warm air surrounded you.
Passing the buildings and skyscrapers of the city, the bright luminous lights allowed you to see inside the car and you glimpsed at your father who was staring worryingly at his phone. Your face fell and you knew something was off, but you also knew better than to ask questions.
Getting distracted, you saw you arrived at the gala, the door opened by the valet and your father graciously helped you out of the car before you were escorted to the lobby.
Your eyes instantly searched for that brown-headed man. Too preoccupied with that, your father chuckled as you wandered off, his hand reaching out to stop you so you could give the lady at the coat check your shawl.
Letting out a small “oh”, you passed her a smile. Your arms felt bare and a small breeze chilled the room. It was the entrance and with all the bodies filing in, it made sense. Just then, you felt a warmth rush through you when you felt a pair of hands on your skin.
“Princess, you look breathtaking,” he complimented, turning you around to face him to take in your appearance. He licked his lips softly, eyes so focused on every inch of your body.
You were too intent on taking in his appearance to notice. The navy suit that fit him so well, he looked sharp and you loved that he corresponded with you. Scanning your eyes upward, you landed on his face, his eyes staring at your lips again.
Smiling, he seemed to knock himself out of his trance and send you a sheepish smile. He didn’t think he’d get caught, but he composed himself quickly, adjusting his suit jacket.
“Ready to head in?” he nodded towards the door, taking your arm to loop with his.
“Yeah, let’s head in,” you replied, picking up the skirt of your dress and walking down the steps to the main ballroom.
Your father had already joined everyone else in the gala, most likely joining Sam and Steve for a quick catch-up before they divulged in business.
Peter had led you to your seats, a table sat in the corner of the ballroom by the entrance. Everyone seemed to gather in the middle, men talking amongst one another and the woman hanging on their arms as they smiled and nodded along.
Enjoying your time by tracing your fingers along the lines of his palms, it was quickly disrupted when his henchman approached, whispering something in his ear before he left. Sending you an apologetic look, you sent him one of understanding.
He pressed a kiss to your cheek, letting you know he’ll be back before he walked out the backdoor.
Deciding a drink will pass the time quicker, you made your way to the bar. Ordering a cosmo, you took a seat at the end of the bar, the bartender making your drink quickly and the tart taste of cranberry juice hitting your tongue put you at ease.
Only for two seconds though.
Resting your head on your chin, you sat at the table, waiting for dinner to start so your father and Peter could come back. But checking the time on your phone, you realized that would be another hour at most.
Sighing, you decided to check your phone for any new emails on shop coupons or rewards you’ve received. Sadly, nothing was new and you were now scrolling through Instagram.
“You know a party is boring when the prettiest girl is on her phone,” you heard a voice from behind you.
Straightening up, you looked over your shoulder to find a blond guy smiling at you.
“Mind if I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the barstool next to yours.
“Sure,” you passed a smile, swiveling in your seat so you’re facing him. “What’s your name?”
“Harry, Harry Osborn,” he greeted. “And you’re Y/N Barnes, a pleasure to finally meet you,” his grin grew wider, blue eyes meeting yours as he gently took your hand and kissed the top of it.
Charming.
“You know who I am,” you tilted your head to the side as you felt yourself blush.
“How can I not? My father’s been working for your dad for as long as I can remember,” he let out a laugh, somewhat offended at your surprise.
“Ah, yes, Norman Osborn, don’t know how I didn’t make the connection,” you sucked in a breath, grabbing your glass for another sip.
Harry was a handsome guy, he seemed kind and was easy to talk to. You liked the aura he gave off, very relaxed yet confident.
“I rarely catch you here, you usually don’t make an appearance,” he leaned a bit towards you, sending you signals that he was intrigued.
“Galas are kinda boring, my father and best friend always leave me to go talk business, so I’m left by myself,” you sighed, chewing on your bottom lip.
“Well, now I’m here,” he smiled.
“I’m glad,” you flirted. “Not so lonely anymore.”
“If it weren’t for the open bar, I’d buy you a drink,” he smirked. “So how about I take you out?” he suggested, raising his brows.
“Hmm, keep talking and I’ll answer your question,” you giggled when he took on the challenge.
For the next fifteen or so minutes, you were talking with Harry about anything and everything. He cracked jokes here and there, making you laugh- to which he thinks is the most beautiful sound ever. The conversation was going so well and you were about to agree on his offer.
Unknown to your knowledge though, Peter strolled back into the main area after having a chat with a potential alliance. It went incredibly well and he was on his way back to the table to tell you all about it, but you were gone.
With a quick panic, he thought the worst, but he instantly heard your laugh. Thankful that you were safe, he still saw something he didn’t want to see. With a nasty taste left in his mouth, he stalked over to you and the strange guy.
“Princess thought I lost you,” Peter came up, pressing a kiss to your cheek that caught you by surprise.
“I got bored sitting at the table,” you frowned at him, his arm finding itself wrapped around your waist. “Ew, you smell like smoke,” you pinched your nose, pressing against him in an attempt to push him away but he didn’t budge.
You desperately hated the smell of smoke and ironically the two most influential men in your life smoked heavily.
“Who’s this?” he ignored you, staring at the guy with a hard gaze.
“Harry Osborn,” he introduced himself, offering a hand which Peter shook with a tight-lipped smile. “And you are?” he asked, wondering who the man that kissed you was.
“Her boyfriend,” Peter replied, your eyes widening in shock. “If you don’t mind,” he glanced between the two of you.
Without another word, Harry got up and left.
So much for meeting new people, you figured.
“Peter! Why would you say that?!” you smacked his arm, but he only rolled his eyes.
“Let’s just go back to our table, dinner should start soon,” he grabbed your hand and arm.
You let out a huff as you sat down, crossing your arms over your chest in defeat. Peter only sighed at your attitude, but to offer an apology, he placed his hand in your lap, hoping you’d continue to play with his fingers like before.
Gazing at him, you only scoffed at his hopeful eyes before crossing your legs, tilting your body opposite of him.
As everyone gathered back to the ballroom, taking their seats, your father appeared again, sitting right beside you and he was fast to notice your change in demeanor.
“What’s up with you, doll?” he furrowed his brows.
“She’s mad because I said I was her boyfriend,” Peter cut in, your eyes widening when he spoke over you again.
“I was talking to a guy and Peter shows up thinking he has some ownership of me,” you corrected, your father cocking a brow towards Peter.
“Sir, it was Harry Osborn,” he leaned forward, whispering his name. “I had to,” he shrugged.
And while your father understood that explanation, you were still lost.
“Peter did the right thing,” your father patted your knee in reassurance, but that only made you madder.
Semi-luckily, Peter saw through you.
“Harry Osborn is bad news, his father works for your dad but there are rumors he steals shipments,” he leaned towards you, taking your hand cautiously. “Your dad and I are trying to figure that out,” he elaborated, your gaze falling to your lap where your intertwined hands were.
“Oh, I didn’t know,” you frowned. “I’m so stupid, I’m sorry,” you groaned as you leaned into your chair, cringing at your idiocy, but divulging in the feeling of Peter’s thumb rubbing circles on the top of your hand made you feel better.
“No need to apologize, princess, I’m just glad nothing happened to you,” he pressed a smile before kissing your knuckles reassuringly.
“Me too,” you admitted.
~~~~~
“Are you sure you can’t even come over just for a little bit?” you asked, holding the phone up to your ear.
“I’m so sorry, princess, work has been hectic,” Peter explained on the other side of the phone.
You frowned and even though he couldn’t see, he knew you were sad.
“I just miss you, I haven’t seen you since the gala,” you trailed, walking into the kitchen to grab a snack. “When can I see my best friend again?” you asked, leaning against the marble countertop.
“As soon as I finish this deal with your father, then I’m all yours,” he hummed and you heard him file through different stacks of paper on his desk.
“Promise?” a smile grew on your face.
“Promise,” he reassured before hanging up.
A sigh left your lips as you shook with anticipation. You missed Peter dearly and the penthouse just seemed so bare without his presence. So quiet you could hear a pin drop. And so much so that you heard your father calling you to his office down the hall.
You made your way down, the soft orange glow coming from the ajar door leading you the way down the hall. Your father was seated in his black leather chair while he signed some papers, most likely shipment logs and inventory.
Walking in, you instantly felt the temperature change. The shudder that escaped your lips alerted him of your presence, a small smile making your way to your face when you grabbed the sweater you always kept in there.
“Hi, Dad,” you greeted before you took a seat in front of him, crisscrossing your legs.
“Hi, doll,” he passed a bright smile, but his eyes didn’t seem to match it. “I got some news for you,” he began.
“What’s wrong?” you already sensed that this wasn’t going to be something you enjoyed.
“It’s nothing bad, but I do want you to keep an open mind,” he shifted in his seat, clearing his throat.
Nodding along, you weren’t sure how hard that was going to be, but you wanted him to go on.
“You’re my daughter, Y/N, I’ve raised you as such but as you’ve grown I’ve made a lot of enemies,” he began, eyes dropping after they met your curious ones for a split second. “And because you’re not my blood, they won’t have a problem harming you,” he trailed, your brows furrowing when you listened to him.
“What does that mean, Dad?” you asked, gulping as you grew nervous.
“I can’t protect you anymore, doll,” he confessed, his gaze falling on yours. His stare was calm, eyes turned cold. You could sense the pain in them and he was fighting to conceal it when tears poured into his eyes.
“What’s going to happen to me?” you questioned, thinking he was either going to kill you or throw you out into the streets.
“If my enemies can’t see that you’re mine, blood or not, I have to ensure your safety through other means,” he started. “I have arranged for Peter to marry you,” he stated, your heart plummets.
Shaking your head you were quick to argue. You didn’t want to marry anyone, even if it was your best friend. It was too weird, too soon. There has to be another way.
“But, I’m your daughter,” you teared up. “You can’t do that,” you shook your head, body racking in cries as you wept. “You kill people for a living and you’re going to stop when my life is on the line?!” you began to hyperventilate.
“If they ever lay a hand on you, I wouldn’t hesitate to kill, but there’s too much risk involving this,” he stood up. “They’ll twist the words and make me the bad guy, risking your life even more,” he stalked closer to you, kneeling in front of you and holding your shoulders. “Peter will protect you, he always has and if you’re his wife, they’ll accept that,” he tried to convince you.
Shutting your eyes, you tried very hard to pretend this was a nightmare. Your father would never do this to you because you’re his daughter, blood or not. Bucky Barnes, the man that has held a notorious image for so long in New York and even across the country would never give up so easily.
He took down rival gangs in one night, he’s killed people without hesitation, he’s built an empire that many fear- how was he simply throwing you away?
“But he’s my best friend,” you cried into your hands, trying to rip away from your father’s hold.
You were angry, confused, terrified. Especially towards him.
He wasn’t the man you remembered throwing you princess-themed birthday parties up until you were eleven, the man that tucked you in every night, the man that handed you a thousand dollars every morning “just in case” even though you had his card in your wallet already; the literal man who picked you off the streets and raised you as his own.
“You can’t make me marry him,” you trembled when you look back at him, but your breath instantly caught in your throat.
He was crying, actually crying. Bucky Barnes was crying. All because of you.
“This was the only way, too many people have already threatened your life and I don’t know how I can live with myself knowing you’re in danger,” he dropped his head, his sniffles ringing through the air. “You know I love you, right?” he asked, gazing back up and gripping your chin to force you to look at him.
You nodded your head, blinking your tears away before you saw a smile growing on his face as he let go.
“C’mere,” he opened his arms, and you fell into his embrace, his strong arms holding you securely.
To think the way he protected you all those years like it was second nature. And as strong as he was, as a killer of a metal arm he had, it would no longer do justice.
And you had to accept that as your fate.
~~~~~
Dressed in your sage dress, you stood by your father as you waited for the elevator to reach the top floor of the apartment building.
You weren’t sure if Peter knew about this marital arrangement. You hoped he didn’t and he would deny the offer, letting you get back to your normal life. But, fate hadn’t seemed to be on your side the moment the elevators opened to his penthouse.
“Peter, good to see you again,” your father greeted, pulling him into a firm hug and handshake.
“Same here, Mr. Barnes,” Peter pulled away, smiling at the man. “Princess, it feels like forever since I’ve seen you,” he pulled you into a hug and pressed a kiss to your cheek.
You smiled as you hugged him, indulging in his touch and his scent, but he was too quick to pull away, grabbing your hand lightly.
“Shall we get onto dinner then? We have a lot to discuss,” your father spoke up, nodding towards the dining table that was placed right by the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Of course, I had my chef prepare all your favorites,” he squeezed your hand tighter and led you to the table.
Your heels clicked against the elegant flooring as he pulled you along. The table was set with an array of foods, all your favorites. Your stomach churned. As hungry as you were, you couldn’t fathom eating right now.
“And I got you these as well,” he pulled the bouquet from the table, offering them to you.
Your favorite flowers. The bouquet was so full and vibrant. You loved them.
“Thank you, Peter, they’re lovely,” you grinned, smelling them.
The two men smiled generously at your reaction, it was a good idea to get you in a good mood before everything was official between you and Peter.
Setting the flowers back down, Peter pulled your seat out for you and you thanked him once more before you situated yourself. It was not unusual to see Peter this happy, but there was just something about him tonight that was off.
Maybe since you haven’t seen him in weeks. Or maybe he was just extremely happy that he was starting his alliance with Thor Odinson. Either way, seeing him happy made the weight on your shoulders lighter.
“Say, Peter, quite the celebration you got going on,” your father voiced, a proud grin adorning his face once everyone was seated. “Heard you sealed the deal with Thor and now you’re engaged!” he cheered, the brightness illuminated on his face that matched the same energy as Peter’s when you looked at him.
“Wait, Peter, you knew about this?” you shook your head in shock, staring at the man across from you.
Many questions were flying through your head at that moment. How long did he know? How long was he hiding this from you? Why did he agree to it? And why did he seem so unfazed by it?
“Doll, it was his idea,” your father clarified, patting your shoulder as he chuckled. “And I was the one to pass him the opportunity,” he added, sending another pleased grin his way.
“Peter,” you directed back to him. “How could you?”
He blinked as he focused on you, his lips curving upward into a smile.
“Well, I was the only logical choice, I know you, your father trusts me, I’m financially well off, and I can bring you the protection your father can no longer give,” he shrugged like it was obvious, but you couldn’t believe it.
It was one thing that your father told you you were to marry Peter. But now hearing that Peter was the one to suggest it made your heart break.
The two most important men in your life were deciding your choices and it was scary. Your mind can’t even comprehend it.
“You’re my best friend, don’t you want to fall in love?” you baffled.
“Trust me, princess, this is going to be good for all of us,” he reached over to grab your hand. “And who’s not to say we won’t fall in love? We love each other already,” he breathed out a laugh and you shut your eyes.
This had to be a nightmare.
“As friends, not romantically,” you were bewildered, your eyes shooting open again. “What about my home? I have a life,” you tried to rip your hand away, but he kept his grip tight.
“We’ll get married by next Friday, you’ll move in with me, it’ll be a big change but you’ll live comfortably, never have to work a day in your life,” he reassured, squeezing your hand.
You glanced around the penthouse. It was nice, luxurious like your current home, but it wasn’t your home. Peter’s penthouse was very modern and manly. Sure it was clean, but it was too clean-cut and dark for your liking.
“I know my place isn’t up to your standards, but you can redecorate however you want,” he circled his thumb on the top of your hand. “It’ll become your home too,” he softly spoke, squeezing your hand once more before he let go.
“You are marrying yourself one hell of a guy, doll,” your father butted in, trying to offer some lightheartedness to the conversation but you couldn’t find it in yourself to receive that comfort. “C’mon, smile, you’re a bride now!”
Your father and Peter let out a roar of cheers, trying to excite you but you could only sit there. Futile in their attempts to hype you up, Peter decided it was best to carry on with the celebration.
“I had your favorite champagne flown in,” Peter hauled the bottle from the ice as he stood up.
And it was indeed your favorite, imported from France- the bubbles just seemed to pop more on your tongue and Peter knew. He bought you a bottle every year for your birthday every since you turned twenty-one.
“Picked it just for tonight,” Peter smiled. “We’re not just celebrating you, but us,” he winked your way, your father gushing with excitement that he reached over to pinch your cheek and all you can do was force out a hum.
You stared down at your hands. Your freshly manicured nails shone in the light, a baby pink shade that Peter picked out when you called him while you were getting your nails done. It was only a few days since and you wondered if he had known about this then.
The pop of the cork drowned out your thoughts, Peter and your father pouring the gold liquid into the glasses. You were handed one by Peter and it wasn’t a second later that you downed it completely.
“Woah, doll, slow down there,” your father patted your shoulder, letting out a playful chuckle as he looked at his future son-in-law.
“Don’t worry, she gets like that when she’s nervous,” Peter excused you, sending you a grin.
Of course, he remembered that about you. Why was it so aggravating to have him know so much about you? It felt invasive, there was rarely any secrecy, minimal surprises with Peter. He knew you better than anyone in the world and because of that, because of his lineage and status- your father only saw the perfect husband for his little girl.
And that made hatred bubble in your stomach as you stared back at him.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do this,” you placed your elbows on the table as you leaned forward. “Why?” you rested your head in your hands as you stared at your father and then Peter.
The two shared a look before Peter spoke up.
“You know why, princess, think of this as a good thing, you’re marrying your best friend,” he offered another smile, that twinkle shining in his eyes when he got real. “Isn’t that how you’re supposed to do it? Marry your best friend?” he shrugged.
“But we haven’t dated, I don’t know you like that,” you emphasized, repeating your reasoning.
“Doll, if you don’t want to marry Peter, then I guess I can’t guarantee you’ll be safe anymore,” he sighed, leaning back in his seat, biting the inside of his cheek as he allowed you to contemplate it.
You glanced over at him and you could tell he was sick of this behavior, he made it very evident that he was doing this for your best interest. While it appeared that you had already accepted that, your heart was not in it.
But the threat your father made unsettled you. Your father never went that far in his threats with you. Actually, he never went anywhere with them because you’re his daughter.
Why now, though? You loved your father with all your heart and the minute you glanced back at him and saw nothing but fear and worry, you remember why you had to do this.
“I’ll marry Peter,” you said more calmly, your father closing his eyes in content and you physically saw the load come off his shoulders.
“I promise you won’t regret this, Y/N,” Peter stood up, reaching into his suit pocket as he rounded the table.
You watched carefully, he didn’t rip his eyes from you once as he kneeled in front of you. A beautiful red velvet box was in his hands when he propped one knee up. He gently opened it, revealing a princess cut, gold banded engagement ring.
It was too simple to be considered grand but based on the size of the diamond- you wondered how much it cost. More importantly, you beat yourself up wondering how Peter knew this is the exact ring you always dreamed of.
“Y/N Barnes, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” he asked, a glint in his eyes.
You attempted to whisper a “yes”, but you solely nodded, too scared to say anything but he nonetheless gently slipped the ring on your finger.
As you stared at the diamond- it felt real suddenly. It fit too perfectly to be a coincidence and was way too comfortable on your finger.
Peter knew you, but how did he know this much?
~~~~~
Ushered out of your bed at six in the morning was something you weren’t expecting, even more, when you saw Nat was the one to pull you out of the bed. She didn’t even let you change from your pajamas before you were pushed into the elevator and into a car that took you to the venue.
You were very thankful though when she handed you your favorite drink from your favorite cafe the moment you arrived in the bridal suite.
It was too early in your opinion, the ceremony didn’t begin until two that afternoon and you wanted to know why you needed eight hours to get ready. Six hours would’ve been good at least.
“Wanda brought breakfast, you need to eat since you most likely won’t the rest of the day,” Nat placed food from a place right in front of you and you instantly heard your stomach rumble.
Both she and Wanda already had their hair and makeup done, now it was your turn and you still had two and a half hours on the clock left.
“Has anyone seen my phone?” you asked, realizing you haven’t been on it all day. “I want to text Peter,” you said, worry filling your voice. “Or maybe I can see him for a bit?” you thought, knowing even a few seconds would bring you ease.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Wanda approached you, glancing at you through the mirror.
“I don’t know, I’ll just feel better if I see him,” you shrugged.
“Oh sweetie, it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride,” Nat cooed. “If you want I can send him a message,” she suggested, but you quickly shook your head knowing it won’t be the same.
As bad as you wanted to be mad at Peter, you couldn’t. He was still your best friend at the end of the day and he knew how to make your nerves go away. He was always there for you...
“Peter, I don’t think I can do this,” you shook your head, watching as all the other students enter the front of the hotel. “What if the rumors are true?” you held onto your clutch as you stared horrified at the school.
Your senior prom was tonight, with many students gossiping about your reign of prom queen, other rumors have surfaced about your winning being sabotaged.
Possibilities of a scene straight out from Carrie or even worse.
Even with your father, some students had the balls to defy your name and bully you. Most of it was tolerable ever since Peter beat up that one kid, but there was still a bit of name-calling.
And now with the final nights of high school, those students figured they should go off with a bang- which was something you didn’t want to witness.
“I will make sure nothing happens to you, and if someone does try to pour a bucket of pig’s blood over your head, I’ll be the one to make them regret it,” he placed his hands on your upper arms, a reassuring look washing over his face.
“Okay, let’s go,” you smiled back, letting him grab your hand and lead you up the steps.
Turns out the rumors were true, but Peter caught the group of girls that wanted to dump tar on you before you went up the stage to accept your crown. And hell, did you look beautiful.
“You’re beautiful,” Nat admired as she placed the small tiara on top of your head. “What do you think?” she asked, turning you to face the mirror.
Your dress was a poofy a-line dress with a sweetheart neckline, a floral lace was decorated around it, and had beautiful off-the-shoulder puff sleeves. You looked stunning like a princess.
“I look like a bride,” you said truthfully, astonished by how perfect you looked. “But I don’t feel like one,” your gaze fell as you played with your fingernails.
“Don’t chip your manicure,” she slapped your hands away from each other. “Trust me, the moment you see Peter, you’ll feel like one,” she squeezed your upper arms reassuringly.
Nat was sort of your stepmother. She and your father had an on-and-off relationship your entire life. Both are too preoccupied with their businesses to truly focus on one another, though. In the past few days, you wondered where you'd be right now if she was your mom.
Maybe she’d have Bucky give you more leeway and you’d be marrying someone you loved. Not your best friend.
“Do you think my dad made the right choice for me?” you asked, staring at her in the mirror.
She let out a sigh as she pondered before offering a smile as she opened her mouth to speak.
“I think your father wishes he knew what was best for you, but because of his job, he is forced to make some bad ones,” she answered, adjusting a piece of your hair. “Forcing you to marry is one of them, but having Peter be the one is not,” she added.
You stared at her blankly, unsure of what to say.
“Peter is a good guy, he clearly loves you and is willing to do anything for you, you may not love him romantically, but give that time,” she rested her chin on your shoulder as she looked back at you.
She was right.
Peter did everything for you your entire life. Shopping trips, brunches, spa days, late-night calls even though he had an early shift the next day- there was no second-guessing with him. Hell, even with two weeks of planning this wedding, it was all: “Whatever you want, princess.”
Not to mention, he agreed to marry you.
Peter was your best friend and your protector. Maybe you did just need some time to love him that way. And hopefully, he will too.
A knock rang through the bridal suite, Wanda rushing over to open the door to reveal your father standing on the other side.
He was decked out in his tux, his beard and hair were freshly groomed. When he walked in, he wore a bright smile, Wanda and Nat making space for you and him.
“You’re beautiful, doll,” your father tears up, but he wasn’t going to cry in front of the other two women. “So grown up,” he sniffled as he grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on the top of your hand.
“Thank you, Dad,” you forced a smile.
“Almost time,” he sucked in a breath. “Until you’re no longer mine,” he frowned. “You’ve grown into such a wonderful woman,” he cupped the side of your face as he held your hand close to his chest.
You stared lovingly at your father. For all he did and sacrificed for you, the life he blessed you with. There was always going to be that time when you were no longer dependent on him- you just didn’t realize it’d be this soon.
“You raised me into one,” you said, voice cracking as you tried not to start a scene.
“Just remember you’ll always be my little girl,” he grabbed your face and kissed the top of your head and that’s what you needed to start the waterworks.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you breathed out, fanning your eyes as you gasped.
“Oh, doll, you’re just emotional, it’s your wedding day,” Wanda came up and quickly dabbed your eyes. “Bucky, I told you not to make her cry,” she directed to your dad.
“I know, I know, it’s hard,” he sniffled.
“There, all better,” she grinned, as she fixed your makeup. “Shall we get this show on the road then?” she asked, helping you with your dress.
Walking down the aisle gave you a rush of anxiety that you never felt before. The moment the doors to the venue opened and your eyes landed on Peter. He was dressed in a perfectly fitted black suit, bow tie tied perfectly around his neck. He looked rather dashing, always was anyway.
You passed him a smile that caused his smile to grow larger and that’s when you felt your cheeks heat up.
This wasn’t so bad.
The melody to the music continued to play as you proceeded down the aisle. Every single guest passed a twinkling smile, a few tears shed at how beautiful you looked. Perhaps it was the stares, but you felt your anxiety increase when you glimpse at each person you passed.
You barely knew any of them and as you began to take deeper breaths, you clutched your nails into your father’s arm and your bouquet. He tried to calm you down by rubbing your arm but it didn’t help at all.
Until you ripped your eyes away and focused back on Peter. His eyes filled with concern but the second you sent a look that you were alright, he let out a breath the moment you met him at the alter.
He reached for your hand that was passed on from your dad and his warm touch reassured you.
Everything was going to be alright.
Peter will take care of you, treat you as an equal, and love you. Someday, you might even renew your vows, reading the words you wrote for one another that were filled with love and passion because you truly loved each other.
But for now, as the officiant read off words of endearment you did your best to listen in, trying not to focus on your sweating hands that were held in Peter’s. You gave a pleasant smile as you recited your vows and placed the gold band on Peter’s finger.
“I do,” you replied when asked, Peter growing a bigger smile as he grabbed your left hand and eagerly placed the matching ring on yours, fitting right on top of your engagement ring.
“You may now kiss the bride,” the officiant said.
You batted your eyes in anticipation. This was going to be your first ever kiss with Peter and it was in front of hundreds of people- strangers. And while you seemed nervous, Peter gently grabbed your face and leaned in.
The kiss was powerful and unexpected. He knew exactly how to move his mouth against yours and it felt magical. The thought of kissing your best friend occurred in your brain once or twice, but this, this was so much better.
To seal the deal off, you placed one hand on his chest and deepened it. The shutter and flash of the camera made you jolt, prompting him to pull away with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.
He swiftly intertwined your hands together, leading you back down the aisle as all the guests applauded. He stopped right at the end, pulling you in for another kiss and the snap of the photographer’s camera startled you again.
He pulled away with a laugh, holding you close as you exited the venue.
“Mrs. Parker,” he gestured to the limo, a driver waiting with the door open as he guided you inside.
The name was going to be an adjustment to make, but it did have a nice ring to it.
~~~~~
The guests cheered as they gathered outside the reception, sparklers in their hands that created an arch for the two of you.
Peter grabbed your hand as you both walked down to your getaway car. Your grip was firm on his hand and you kept close to your new husband. All the cheering and shouts of the guest heightened your anxiety, but having Peter there seemed to put you at ease.
He held you close now, putting his arm around your waist snuggly as you approached the last few feet of the path. The photographer and videographer still stood by as they captured the moment he pulled you into his arms and dipped you for a kiss.
If the crowd couldn’t have gotten louder.
You waved goodbye to the guests, especially to your father before Peter was guiding you into the passenger’s seat of his car. He quickly circled before he got in, starting the car and you were off, the wedding-goers becoming smaller as you drove further and further away.
The skirt of your dress had ridden up slightly, prompting Peter to place his hand on your upper thigh. You both had changed into more casual attire- Peter insisting on you wearing those cheetah print heels he got you all those weeks ago and a nice coffee brown cocktail dress he also bought you. While he sported a matching brown button-up and khakis.
As dashing as he was throughout the night, there was just something about him now that made you grin from ear to ear. Although, it wasn’t like that was going to go anywhere. Even if you were married now.
You thoroughly enjoyed the reception. It just felt like a party and oftentimes you forgot you were the reason for the celebration. The countless clanging of silverware against the glasses encouraged Peter to kiss you. And of course, Peter would grab the side of your face and kiss you like he meant it.
You had your first dance first thing and while you were a trained ballerina for a good part of your life, your nerves seemed to get the best of you. Fortunately, Peter was your saving grace and he took the lead, drawing you close to him as he hummed along to the song in your ear.
The entire night, his touch brought your shivers. A tingly sensation that would draw up your spine and cause a rush of heat to your cheeks. He seemed to notice too because he touched you often. Unless he was just doing his part to sell that you were both in love.
In that case, he was a phenomenal actor.
And now after a long plane ride to Bora Bora- you finally arrived on your honeymoon.
Peter carried the bags as you made your way up the path. Your heels in your hand as you walked up the stone to the beachfront villa Peter owned. You turned back to look at the beach and the moon reflecting on the waves made for a beautiful scene.
As you were about to walk through the door, Peter stopped you. You furrowed your brows at him but you quickly let out a yelp when he picked you up bridal style.
“I have to stick with traditions, princess,” he smirked while he walked you through the threshold as you grew a small smile, wrapping your arm around his neck.
You took this time to take in all the beautiful amenities to the place, the kitchen and living room decorated to fit the aesthetic and everything just seemed so open and calm. You loved it.
The bedroom was even grander as you spotted the king-sized bed, rose petals shaped into a heart right on top of the duvet. There was a huge patio door leading to a private pool and another door that revealed a huge marble tub and a walk-in shower.
“How come you never took me here?” you asked, walking over to the patio to get a look at the view, admiring every inch of the place.
“I always planned on it, just had to wait for the right occasion,” he shrugged, walking up behind you. “Seemed like the perfect one now,” he whispered, kissing the back of your ear as he trailed a hand up your arm.
“You know you don’t have to do that, we’re alone,” you turned around to face him.
“Do what?” he furrowed his brows. “Being affectionate? You’re my wife, I think I’m allowed to do that behind closed doors,” he cocked a brow, wrapping his arms around your middle.
You were about to open your mouth to say something, but he beat you to it.
“C’mon, I have something for you,” he pulled away, hand brushing over yours. You straightened up as he walked over to his suitcase, unzipping it and filing through the different clothes before he pulled out a white material. “Put this on,” he held up a see-through lace nightie, your eyes widening at how small it was.
“Why?” you baffled, growing shy.
“You’ll look beautiful when we consummate our marriage,” he explained, his lips curving upwards as his eyes darkened with lust.
“Peter,” you muttered out, wrapping your arms around yourself. “You’re not serious, are you?” you looked at him with shock. “I didn’t think,” you trailed, letting out a breath as you stepped back.
“You think I wasn’t going to want to sleep with my wife?” he furrowed his brows, letting out a mocking laugh when he realized you were being serious. “I’ve played my cards right and I think I deserve my reward,” he stated, your eyes widening in shock.
“Peter, what are you talking about?” you questioned, growing worried, not wanting to admit to the truth.
“It was a simple plan, I knew you never wanted to do anything with the mob, you always wanted the simple life, be a doting wife and mother,” he shoved his hands into his pockets after he threw the nightie on the bed. “I love picturing it, you round and swollen with my child as you wait for me to return home,” he grinned, grabbing your hand.
You tried to pull away from him, but he kept his grip strong.
“I waited as we got older, I also knew about your father’s enemies, willing and ready to rip you to shreds just cause they can, so of course, I suggested you be married, a safer precaution,” he shrugged, lips pursing.
You felt more tears prick in your eyes as he carried on.
“I was ready to fight for my right to your hand, but I was surprised when he was quick to pick me,” he smiled proudly. “Obviously, I accepted his offer, now not only will I be the leader of the Parker mob, but Barnes will soon be under my name and I will have my beautiful, sexy wife,” he raked his eyes over your body, “right by my side.”
“Why would you lie to me?” you whimpered, you were so confused.
“I’ve been in love with you for as long as I could remember,” he reached up to cup your face. “I needed to make sure I had you, I hated lying to you, but now I’m being honest,” his face softened as he wiped away your tears.
“You love me?” you felt a pang at your heart when he nodded.
“More than life itself,” he added. “And I can’t wait for the day you love me just as much, but for now I can show you just how much I love you,” he stood up, leading you with him.
“I-I have never done this before,” you gulped when you realized what he was insinuating.
“I know, I’ll make you feel amazing though,” he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “So, please would you put this on for me?” he reached for the nightie again.
With shaky hands, you sucked in your tears before you nodded, taking it slowly and you took your time with venturing into the bathroom.
Now were you not only married to your best friend, but you had to sleep with him?
You closed your eyes as you undid your dress, your hands shaking when you slid the lacey, thin material over your head. You felt cold and bare. You didn’t even spare a glance in the mirror before you found yourself standing in front of Peter again.
He had stripped himself of his clothes, leaving him in his briefs. You had forgotten how much of a physique he had and you had to force yourself to stop staring before he caught on. And it was very evident that he was already hard.
“Princess,” Peter groaned, gaping at the sight before him. “You are so beautiful,” he ran his hands up your sides, a shiver escaping your mouth as you glanced at him. “So delicate,” he whispered, tracing his hands over your ass before they ran up your back.
One of his hands traced to your front, the lacey material giving him a gist of what your breasts looked like, his tongue outlined his lips while he pinched your sensitive peaks with his fingers.
Biting your tongue, you weren’t sure how that felt as good as it did, but Peter noticed and he let out a chuckle when you sucked in a breath.
“That’s only the beginning,” he stepped closer, grabbing the back of your neck.
His lips met yours again in an instant and you let out a soft moan when he ran his tongue across your bottom lip.
That was new.
Up until this point, your arms were stuck by your sides, but you lightly placed them on his sides, nails digging into his skin as you clung to him, enjoying the kiss.
He easily won dominance, one hand firm on your neck while the other explored every curve of your body. He was insatiable, so ravenous- part of you liked it.
The vibrations against your lips anytime he groaned when you raked your nails across his skin, the groove of his muscles made that spark ignite in your core. The sensation was weird and you felt unsatisfactory.
“Take these off,” he panted as he pulled away for a split moment, your eyes fluttering open. You felt his fingers play with the band of your thong before he slipped underneath and guided them along your legs.
“Peter, I’m not sure-,” you were cut off when he shushed you.
“That kiss was good, right?” he cupped either side of your face to make you look at him.
Your face heated up as much as you wanted to deny it, but you sheepishly let out a small nod, allowing him to lead you to the bed.
He pulled you into his lap, your core brushing against the material of his briefs and you let out a soft groan. Humored at your reaction, he laid back, placing a hand on your hip.
“Sit on my face,” he gazed up at you, a glint of hunger washed over his eyes and you stared blankly at him, unsure of what he meant by that.
“Peter, I-,” you hesitated, hoping for some clarification before you did what he told you.
“Come up here,” he ordered, squeezing your ass.
Your legs shook when stood and you wobbled as you hovered over him, your hand pushing down the material of your nightie to cover your exposed bits as you squatted above him, but he pulled your hand away and sucked in a breath when he caught sight of your core.
“Oh, princess,” he groaned, running his thumb along your slit, your hand clutching the headboard in front of you. “I’ve always wondered what you taste like,” he kissed along the inside of your thigh, a small gasp leaving your lips at the feeling.
It was strange, the way shocks of electricity ran up your spine and back down to your abdomen with just the slightest touch of his lips. And it would repeat all over each time he trailed up closer and closer, the feeling more powerful.
All of a sudden, you felt the wetness of his tongue slide between your folds, spreading his saliva around. You gripped the headboard with your other hand when your body jolted, a tingling sensation rising. He continued to do that repeatedly, his hands gripping the tops of your thighs to hold you down.
“Peter,” your forehead creased, tilting your head back when he bit at a sensitive spot.
You’ve touched that place once or twice before, but the pleasure rushing through your body was never this good. And part of you despised Peter for being the one to do so. But the other part couldn’t find shit to care about.
“Mhmm,” he hummed against you, sucking on your bud when he realized you liked it, his tongue circling it before he licked another swipe to collect your slick. “I knew you’d taste so good,” he mouthed, the vibrations causing you to grind against his face. “And I knew you’d learn to like it too,” he chuckled, your hand reaching down to grip his hair.
“Oh, God,” you moaned, your teeth biting down hard on your lip as your eyes shut closed.
Peter looked up at you, breasts held up by the nightie but the see-through material let him see how your nipples became hard, letting him know how much you were enjoying this. Smiling to himself, he felt proud, he had you just where he wanted you.
“Gonna cum, princess?” he muttered, your movements against his mouth becoming frantic as you rode him. “Just let go,” he guided you through your first orgasm, your fist tugging on his curls when you came undone, your thighs shaking under his touch.
“Peter, Peter!” you screamed, rocking your hips back and forth before you felt yourself give out. Your legs were unsteady but Peter was quick to maneuver you to your back, your chest heaving up and down. “Oh my god.”
“I know, I know,” he cooed, spreading your legs open once more. “Felt good, right?” he looked up at you, your head nodding shamefully. “That was just the tip of the iceberg,” he smirked, crawling back up to you.
“I can’t do anymore, Peter,” you whined, shaking your head against the pillow.
“But I haven’t even shown you the best part,” he frowned, gesturing between the two of you and you gulped when you saw him. He was hard and it looked painful, the way his red-tip oozed with precum, begging to be inside you already, no way was it going to fit.
“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll go slow,” he grinned, slowly aligning his tip to your entrance. “Might be a tight fit, but we’ll manage,” he smiled, kissing you.
A moan escaped your lips when you tasted yourself on his lips. It was a strange taste, but it distracted you when he entered you.
The tightness caused him to pull away, his eyes focused intensely on your connected bodies as he let out a pained groan. You were clenched around him, practically sucking him back in with your lips.
He was smooth in hiking your legs up with his arms, pressing them into your chest, giving him and you a new angle while he slid in deeper, your eyes rolling back just slightly when he brushed against a certain spot.
Moving your legs up to his arms so the backs of your knees rested on his biceps allowed your chests to be pressed together, the closeness making it all the more intimate.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, rocking his hips back slowly. “So wet for me, being such a good girl,” he rested his forehead against yours.
“Peter,” you whimpered, nails digging into his forearms when you tried to decipher between the pain and pleasure.
He rocked his hips back and forth, enabling you to divulge in the feeling of his cock sheathing you. You whimpered as he let go of your legs, his arm wrapping around underneath you to lift your hips.
“Shit,” you hissed, hands finding their way to his shoulders, nails creating scratch marks on his skin.
“Such a sailor’s mouth, princess,” he mocked in your ear, pressing kisses on your face before he made his way down, his other hand groping your breast through the lace before he slipped them out, the cold air forcing a shudder out of you.
Running your fingers through his hair, you bit your lip as he sucked on your nipple, another new feeling you found yourself experiencing that you loved.
You opened your legs wider, allowing his dick to rut into you even deeper than before. The sensation of his pelvis rubbing against your clit made you shiver, causing you to tug on his hair harder.
“Peter, please,” you gasped, his mouth moving to your other breast.
“Tell me what you want, princess,” he lifted his head, eyes dazed from the pleasure as he stared at you.
“I want you, Peter, I want you,” you cried, pushing the hair out of his face before you leaned up to kiss him.
“You have me,” he said against your lips. “You have me,” he panted, your noses knocking.
Tongues clashed against each other, your hands wandered over his body like you were afraid he’d disappear.
But, Peter was there and he was yours and you were his.
Your skin slapped against each other and your chests were pressed together. You kissed along his neck and jaw, whispering encouragements in his ear as you inhaled his wonderful scent. One hand stuck in his hair, threading your fingers through his brown curls and you were sure he was going to have terrible bedhead the moment you got up.
It wasn’t going to matter though, the only thing Peter cared about was cumming inside of you. Finally marking you as his and ensuring that his seed is planted deep.
He knew it was early for babies, but he figured you both could get a head start on practicing. He couldn’t wait for the day you were swollen with his child, your hormones gone awol as you beg for him to fuck you and fill you repeatedly.
The thought alone brought him to many orgasms way before you got engaged. It was always the lonely mornings and nights that would stir him awake in hopes that you were sleeping beside him.
And now he has it. He has you. Right beneath him as your walls squeezed around his cock, urging him deeper with each thrust. His arm tightly wrapped around you, tits bouncing and your breath hot on his skin.
You were close, he could tell. Your legs moved frantically, nails forming scratches and marks along his back and shoulders, fingers tugging on his brown locks. He loved the feeling of your skin against his, your coat of sweat glistening off one another.
Nudging you to look at him, he framed your head with his arm. You were so disoriented, eyes continuously rolling to the back of your head if it weren’t for him to tell you to look at him. It brought a smile to his face at how cock-hungry you were and it was only your first night together.
And there you were again, your back arching, face hiding into his chest as you clawed at his lower back. Your slick walls contracted around him, holding him in place when he came as well.
“Oh, fuck,” he fisted the pillow behind you, his balls pulsating against you as they spilled his seed inside you.
You glanced at him, mouth agape as you felt him finish inside of you. His head rested in the crook of your neck and you felt the way his muscles clenched underneath your fingertips. You were amazed, honestly.
Divulging in the scent of his cologne, you pressed a kiss to his shoulder and trailed your way up to his face. One of your hands still lodged in his hair.
“That was good,” you breathed heavily, chest rising and falling, your nightie bunched up around your middle.
“More than good, fantastic, princess,” he lifted his head, eyes heavy-lidded as he stared down at you. “You were so amazing,” he framed your head with his arm as he brushed pieces of hair out of your face.
“I liked it,” you hummed, running your thumb over his cheek, gazing admirably into his eyes.
He kissed you once more, your hand pulling him close before he slipped out, emptiness consuming you but your thoughts were interrupted when you had the urge to pee, Peter carrying you out of bed and to the bathroom.
After you cleaned yourself and you fixed the top of your nightie, Peter helped you into the bed, his briefs back on him.
Your mind still had trouble processing what had happened only a few minutes ago, you still shook with pleasure. Peering over at Peter, he still had that “winning a million dollars” grin plastered on his face.
He drew you into his chest, face resting on his pec while he rubbed circles on your hip. You rested your hand right in the middle of his chest and you did your best to fall asleep.
While this was still all new to you, he treated it as if you have already done this. As this level of intimacy was normal between you.
Now not only were you adopted into the mob life but you were married to it. No matter what, from now on you will always be dependent on Peter in every possible way.
And while that may seem intimidating or even scary- you couldn’t help but wipe the smile off of your face as you fell asleep.
