#(let peter shoot him on his leg pls. thigh bleeding around his fingers as he pulls out the bullet and then uses that blood
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godlygivenanxiety · 1 year ago
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i just think that it should've been strahm to get stabbed by mark, the thin blade sinking to the hilt and shoved so eagerly, the very tip of his thumb crosses the limit of skin and caresses weeping flesh as he mercilessly twists it to bring out a pained, choked up gasp,,,, what warmth there was inside peter's now coating mark's knuckles, they're close enough that he's practically hissing inside of the agent's mouth before peter's head's turning away,,,,,,,,,,,
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Affliction
Peter Parker x Reader
A/N: I’ve been working on all my WIPS, so I can make my gosh darn list shorter! This isn’t going to be that long, but let me know what you guys think! Xoxo!
This was a request by @aparadoxsstuff and I was excited to write this oneshot!
Unfortunately, until my list gets shorter, requests are closed! I’ll open them back up eventually!
Warnings: Angst, torture, blood, being cut, violence, etc.
Word Count: 2460ish
Main Masterlist
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  Ow… What the hell.
Your temples were pulsing, and your body was trembling slightly. The haze in your brain prevented you from opening your eyes too quickly, as you tried to recall the events leading up to your current situation… but nothing was coming to mind.
Your brain was just too hazy.
You were shivering, you could comprehend that through the haze. The temperature in your location was a lot colder than what you were dressed for, and your toes felt like ice cubes – due to your missing shoes. There was something around your ankles, and it was biting into your skin… and around your wrists.
Were you fucking bound? Why the hell were you restrained? Where the hell were you?
A small whimper escaped – and you realized that there was tape over your mouth – huffing through your nose.
“Y/n?” Peter? Was that Peter? “Y/n, are you awake?”
Your eye cracked open, realizing that it was pretty dim in the brisk room you were in.
When both of your eyes were open, you saw that Peter was sitting across from you – chains wrapped around his entire body, and an IV hooked up to one of his arms. There was bruising darkening his pale skin along his left side of his face, blood trailing down from his temple to under his jaw.
Your breath picked up in a panic – huffing in and out of your nose briskly – as your heart raced, and tears sprung to your eyes.
He shook his head, quickly, “No, no, no. Baby you need to calm down or work the tape off your mouth. You’re going to get light headed. Calm down.” He jerked in the chains, trying to use his strength to break them – but you could tell he was weak from the pallid color in his face. “Please! Sweetheart, calm down!”
You moved your lips back and forth, trying to work the tape from your skin – using your tongue to push against it and wet it. As your breathing became more and more erratic, you tried to work quicker, using Peter’s comforting words to try and focus yourself – so you didn’t pass out.
You were starting to get light headed, but you could feel the stick of the tape start to peel away from your skin, letting little amounts of air through the parts that had unstuck to your skin.
After another minute, you felt the tape peel off enough to use your shoulders and rub it off. You sucked in a large breath, coughing a little and trying to speak between pants. “What – the fuck – happened?
“We were taking the subway home from school.” He sighed, head hanging. “When we were in the terminal, they shot me with some tranquilizers, and I went down. You were already unconscious and bleeding when I hit the ground.”
“What about the tracker in your suit?” You asked, tears creating a cold trail down your cheeks, “You had it on under your clothes, right?”
“No.” His voice was thick with regret, “Tony was doing maintenance on it.”
“So, nobody knows where we are?” A small sob escaped, a fresh wave of tears falling from your eyes. “What the hell do we do, now?”
“I’m too weak from the drugs to break the chains.” He sighed, head hanging down a little, “Are your wrists taped? Can you get out?”
You tried to feel the bonds around your wrists, which were cutting into your skin and burning. “I… I think they’re zip ties.” You sagged, defeated, “I think I’m zip tied.”
“Okay…” He muttered, closing his eyes, “Okay… Think, Peter, think…”
Suddenly, the garage door to the warehouse was thrown open – bathing the room in harsh light.
Your eyes narrowed, squinting against the brightness, while a shadow made its way towards you. The shadow was a human silhouette and very large. You blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the offending lights.
“Mr. Parker. Ms. Y/L/n.” A deep voice came from the large shape, thick with a southern accent. “I’m glad to see you’re awake.”
As your eyes adjusted to the light, you took note that the man who was speaking was very large, with one of those shaved heads that faded into a bushy beard. He was wearing a dark, stealth suit with the HYDRA symbol pinned to his chest. There were at least ten agents behind the man, all of which looked big and mean.
“Why are we here?” Peter asked, voice wavering a little. “Why’d you take us?”
“I need something from your little team.” The man replied, crossing his arms over his large chest.
“We don’t even know where Bucky is, anymore.” Peter scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’re wasting your time with the whole ‘we want the asset’ thing.”
“We don’t care about him.” The man replied, rolling his eyes. “We want something… bigger.”
You glanced over at Peter, worried.
What the hell could they want?
“We want Steve Rogers dead.”
Your eyes widened in a panic and shock, “What?”
“You heard me, darlin’.” He drawled, rolling his eyes over to you. “The captain seems to have a bit of affection towards you. He’s going to kill himself...” He paused, a wicked smirk lifting his lips, “Or we’re going to send you back to him piece-” He took a step towards you. “– by –” Another step. “– piece.”
You gulped, a shiver running down your spine. “Wh-Why?”
“Executive orders.” He leaned forward, finger sliding down the side of your bloodied face slowly. “Maybe we should have a bit of fun with you, first.”
“NO!” Peter yelled, struggling against the chains, “Please!”
He bit his lip, turning his head towards Peter with a glint in his eye. He stared at Peter for a few moments, hands moving to the arms of your chair.
Without warning, he slid your chair, so you were perpendicular to Peter, unable to look at him unless you turned your head. You yelped, closing your eyes as a tear slid down your cheek. “Please, don’t hurt me.”
You felt him lean in, hot breath washing over your face. You shivered, feeling his fingers slide up your arm slowly, light touch creating goosebumps in it’s path. His actions didn’t stop, until his hands were framing your face. You squeezed your eyes tighter, terrified at what he would do if you opened them.
“Leave her alone!” Peter cried, voice cracking on the last word. “Please!”
You felt the man’s hands leave your face for a moment, relief washing over you.
Suddenly, there was a blinding pain along the left side of your face, as the man’s fist made contact with your flesh. You felt the cartilage in your nose crunch, and the man’s ring split open the skin on your cheek. There was ringing in your ears, as your head whipped to the side and you cried out in pain.
Peter was yelling, but you couldn’t hear his words as the agent assaulted you again, from the same side.
You felt your teeth cut into your lip, a metallic taste in your mouth as your teeth split the skin, and blood oozed around your mouth. The pain made it hard to say anything, all you could do was scream as the man assaulted you over, and over again.
When he stopped, you could hear Peter crying, begging the man to let you go.
Your head hung limp, blood collecting from your mouth onto your lower lip, and dripping off with your saliva. The ringing in your ears had faded, but the haze in your brain was making it hard to think of anything other than the pain. You could feel that the skin under the zip ties were broken – zip ties having broken the skin from you struggling against them in pain.
“I don’t think she’s had enough.” The man laughed, voice jubilant, “What do you think, boys? Should we make her scream?”
You heard collective cheers, drowning out Peter’s sobs and pleas to release you.
Slink.
Your eyes sprung open as you heard the sound of a knife being flicked open. “No… please…” You slurred, tears washing a trail through the blood on your cheeks. “Don’t…” Your rapid breathing picked up as you saw the man slowly bring the knife down to your bare thighs, which were barely covered in shorts. “No… please…” You begged, looking up at the man, who was staring at you. “Please!”
His face twisted up into a wolfish smile, as his knife touched the skin of your thighs, cold edge razor sharp against your flesh. A shiver of pure fear trembled through your entire body, and you could feel bile sloshing around in your stomach as the man pressed down a fraction harder.
“Please, please, pl- AH!” You screamed in pain, thrashing against your bonds as the knife slowly skid across your thigh, cutting through the skin like butter – running down your leg from the middle to your knee. Blood oozed from the gash, quickly, dripping down the side and collecting on the chair. The pain was blinding, and it burned from your thighs to your toes.
“PLEASE!” You heard Peter sob, voice straining with each yell. “STOP!”
“I don’t think so.”
When you thought it was over, panting in exhaustion as your entire body pulsed with adrenaline, you felt the hot tip of the knife poke against the skin of your other thigh. You groaned, as the tip pierced deeper and deeper into your trembling flesh.
You choked on your breath, as the man quickly slammed the heel of his hand against the handle of the knife, plunging it through all layers of skin, and into the muscle of your thigh.
“Ah, ah, ah, don’t pass out on me, now.” He sneered, twisting the knife as you choked on your breath. “Otherwise we’ll have to start over.”
“P-p-pl..please…” You panted, cold wave of exhaustion shooting through your body, “Stop…”
“Now, where’s the fun in that?”
You tensed with a groan, as he yanked out the bloody knife from your leg. You felt like you were going to throw up, a lump of bile stuck in your throat as the adrenaline was coursing through your veins.
“Leave her alone!” Peter begged, and you could hear the rattling of the chains, “Torture me, instead! Please!”
“Speak again, and the next cut goes across her jugular.” The agent snapped, hand burying into your hair and yanking your head back. “Do you want that? Huh, Parker? DO YOU?!” Peter must have shaken his head, because the man let out a satisfied grunt. He turned around, hand still in your hair. “Did you send the video?”
“Yes, sir.” Another agent replied.
“Good.” He turned back to you, white teeth shining as he smiled, “Now, where were we?”
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The pain was all you could comprehend, as he cut you over, and over, and over, again. Cuts on your thighs, cuts on your arms, cuts on your chest… any exposed flesh was fair game to the blade of his knife.
You’d grown weak with blood loss, cold spreading from your bare toes, up your legs, and through your entire body. You felt like you were floating, unable to do anything but whimper with your head hanging, as he continued his assault to your flesh.
Peter had grown quiet, not even the sounds of his breathing could be heard.
“I’m bored with this.” The agent sighed, a clang heard as he tossed the knife aside, “Is it ready?”
Is what ready?
“Yes, sir.” An agent responded, and the acrid smell of something burning wafted into your nose. “Hot and ready.”
“Good.”
You lifted your head, panic starting to build again as you realized what was in the agent’s hand. A branding iron, with the symbol of hydra glowing menacingly at the end. “No, no, no.” You thrashed against your bonds, again, vomit building in your throat, “Please! PLEASE! NO!”
You clenched your eyes shut, not wanting to witness the agent press the brand against your skin.
CRASH!
A loud series of gunshots, groans, and thuds could be heard echoing through the warehouse.
Your eyes were still screwed closed, but your head hung low, chin touching the fabric of your bloody tee shirt. Your pants were growing slower, and weaker. An overwhelming urge to sleep was slowing the racing pulse through your body.
“Y/n?” Steve’s voice called in a panic, echoing through the now-quiet room. “Peter?”
“Help her.” You heard Peter’s quiet voice, “Please.”
You felt something press against your neck, sending you into a small wave of panic.
“No…” You groaned, weakly jerking against your bonds. “…Pl…Please…”
“Y/n, it’s me!” Steve’s voice was right in your ear, “We’re going to get you out of here.” His voice sounded a little further away as he called into his comms, “Guys, we need med evac. Y/n’s hurt, badly.”
Finally…
You heard the sounds of chains being broken, clanging to the floor loudly.
“No, Peter, you’re weak!” You heard Tony’s voice. “The drugs!”
“Let go of me!” Peter growled, “I need to see her.”
A small whine escaped as Steve cut the zip ties, pulling them from your broken and bloody gashes. You slumped forward, immediately being caught by a set of familiar arms.
“You’re okay.” Peter’s voice was in your ear, as your head lulled onto his chest, “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”
You felt the warmth of his body, a stark contrast against the cold of your bloodied skin. He was holding you tightly against his body, your slumped body in his lap on the ground.
“Med Evac is just about here.” You heard Steve say, “Get ready.”
You opened your eyes, looking up at Peter, who was staring at you with tears streaming down his face. You lifted your hand, bringing it up to Peter’s face slowly. “I love you.”
His lip wobbled, another tear cascading down his cheek, “I love you, too.”
You shivered, snuggling into the warmth of his chest, body completely exhausted and cold. You swallowed down the bile, a floating feeling in your head. Everything was starting to get fuzzy around the edges of your vision. Your breathing was starting to even out, a calm spreading through your body. You felt your hands slip from his form, falling to the ground as you sagged. The darkness was winning. The exhaustion was taking over.
“I think she’s going in to shock.” Peter’s arms tightened around you, “Baby, please don’t fall asleep… Y/n?” His voice cracked, cold floor against your back as you were laid down. “What’s happening to her? Somebody do something!” Peter’s sobs grew in intensity as he pleaded, “Please! Y/n!”
You tried to reply, but you were just too tired.
Too cold.
Too weak.
Peter’s tear stained face was the last thing you saw.
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