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cherienymphe · 1 year ago

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Basic Training XVII (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, mentions of MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ 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.

You stared into the darkness of the basement for what felt like too long.

It was quiet down there, but not the kind of quiet that felt comforting. It was the kind of silence that felt suffocating—taunting. It was so loud in its taunting, snickering at you and your idiocy and naivety. Even as you laid on the floor, feeling like the lowest of jokes, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret the decisions that brought you here.

Nat was your friend. Or at least, you liked to consider her one, and even faced with the threat of the worst punishment Steve could muster, you just couldn’t imagine yourself doing anything differently. You couldn’t imagine yourself waking Peter up that night and telling him you saw the redhead escaping, effectively alerting the other husbands to her presence, leading to her subsequent capture. It just wasn’t in you, and clearly none of these men—not even Peter—knew you at all if they thought it was.

The first time you tried to move, you couldn’t, and for a brief moment, you thought that Steve had injured you in his delight to toss you down the stairs like a sack of flour instead of a person. However, you quickly came to realize that wasn’t the case. You could move your fingers and toes fine, even twitch your leg, but you just couldn’t find the strength to move. You felt beyond defeated, and when you blinked, you weren’t shocked to feel a sting behind your eyes.

There was the most awful aching feeling in your chest, both heavy and hollow even though you didn’t know how that was possible. You wanted to cry and scream, but you also never wanted to utter another word ever again. You wanted to let out everything you felt since the moment you came here, but in the same breath, you desperately wanted to feel numb. If you didn’t feel a thing, then you couldn’t get hurt, and you hurt so much, right now.

Peter killed Michelle.

He didn’t help kill her, but he did kill her, and in the grand scheme of things, maybe that shouldn’t make a difference. After all, you’d still been under the impression that he did nothing while his brothers did. You’d still been under the belief that he allowed it to happen at best and helped it happen and cover it up at worst. So, why did Peter pulling the trigger make all the difference in the world to you?

Was it because you thought you were falling in love with him?

That thought had you squeezing your eyes shut, so tight that it hurt, and it was hard to hold back your sob. Your nails scraped against the hard floor as you shook, struggling to breathe as your stomach turned. Once you started it was so hard to stop, and it wasn’t long before the sound of your choked cries were filling the basement. It was a thought you’d considered before, but that was when he wasn’t a murderer.

That was when he hadn’t murdered your best friend.

How could you possibly rationalize it now? Deep down, you knew that this wasn’t your fault. Deep down you knew that there were names and studies dedicated to people in your position and the psychology behind it, but that didn’t make you feel any better. Peter had murdered your friend in cold blood…

…and you thought you loved him.

The thought made you want to be sick, and with horror, you could actually feel your stomach turning. You hurried to sit up, pressing the back of your hand to your mouth as you struggled to keep it down. The bathroom only some feet away was locked—wouldn’t be unlocked until someone came down to open it and let you in—and you didn’t think you could handle sitting in a room with your vomit just stewing in the corner.

Struggling to get to your feet, you pressed your other hand to your stomach, trying to settle it. Keeping your mouth closed, you breathed through your nose, lashes fluttering, and after some time, you slowly stumbled towards where you knew the bed to be. You didn’t care about turning on the light, finding no need, and when you sat down, your head drooped in defeat.

There was really no telling how long they’d keep you in here until they figured out what to do with you, and while you knew that Peter would try his damndest to get them to go easy on you, you also knew that they wouldn’t consider a word that left his mouth. You—and also Peter by extension—had proven Steve and the others right, and you found it unlikely they’d ever listen to another suggestion from Peter about you ever again. Or at the very least, not for a long time.

Besides, Peter wasn’t the aggrieved party.

Bucky was, and such a thought made you shudder. You’d done well to avoid attracting Bucky’s ire even though he reminded you of Steve in some ways. Although, unlike Steve, Bucky didn’t seem the type to look for any and every excuse to punish you as he’d prefer in a contrast to Peter’s methods. Bucky seemed—if nothing else—fair to you, and that’s what scared you the most.

Bucky now felt wronged by you.

So, there was really no telling what was in store for you.

You recalled the way he’d reached for you, desperately trying to get past Peter in his efforts to get his hands on you. You didn’t want to imagine what he would’ve done had he succeeded, and you swallowed as your mind went rampant with the possibilities. Your hand came up to graze the tear in your sleeve, wincing at the slight sting you felt when your finger came in contact with the skin. Some part of you knew that had Bucky succeeded, he just might have killed you in his rage, and where you once would’ve welcomed such a thought…

It only made your heart ache, now.

You didn’t want to die, and when you thought about why, your stomach only twisted into knots once again. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you keeled over, throat tight as you tried to swallow down another sob. Your chest hurt so much, feeling like someone had an iron grip on your heart and was just squeezing and twisting it to their content. When you gasped, a cry escaped with it, and the only other time you could recall feeling like this was the day you realized your friends were dead and you were all alone.

You cried until your throat felt raw, and you didn’t fight your body as it started to collapse to the floor, sliding off of the bed in a heap. Covering your face with your hands, your lightly dragged your nails down your skin, frame shaking as you rocked back and forth. Your stomach wouldn’t stop hurting, and you couldn’t stop shaking. In fear or anger or despair—you didn’t know.

You did know that this was all Peter’s fault. He was the one who decided he had to have you, as if you were some thing to be acquired instead of a human being with a life and feelings and autonomy. If it weren’t for him, your friends would still be alive, and you wouldn’t even be here. If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t be feeling ripped apart by how you felt about the man who kidnapped and raped you. All of this was Peter’s fault…and even still…more than anything…

All you wanted was for him to hold you.

It was hard to say how long you stayed in the basement. The darkness and silence was endless, and it felt like months, but in reality, it was probably mere days. You did know that it was long enough for your stomach to ache from more than just fear and for your nightgown to stink from more than just sweat. You didn’t think you were capable of feeling embarrassed about that anymore. After all, Peter never made you feel like it was something to be embarrassed about, but that was before you heard the sound of the locks on the basement door.

Despite your shame, you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

Until the light from the top of the stairs outlined a familiar silhouette.

You merely stared at him as he stood on the first step, yours on him and his eyes on you. You couldn’t hear any noise coming from the main part of the house, and you said nothing when he closed the door behind him. Peter wasn’t good. You knew that since the beginning when he told you that everything he did was so that he could have you, making it all okay. Peter had never been good.

So, why did looking at him now hurt so much more than it ever had?

As soon as Peter was close enough, the first thing he did was take your face into his hands. You couldn’t really feel them, realizing that you got your wish to feel numb, and that just made your chest ache more. Just days ago you were desperate to feel the comfort of Peter’s touch, and now you couldn’t feel it, at all.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured, face a mere inch away from yours.

When you didn’t say anything back, you noticed the way his face fell, lips pressed together as he eyed you. His gaze lingered on yours for the longest, thumbs just grazing your skin, and you watched the way his tongue darted out to swipe between his lips.

“We need to get you cleaned up.”

His words had you blinking, and it was only then did you notice the fresh dress resting on the crook of his arm. You didn’t ask him what day it was because it didn’t matter. You only knew what would be happening today, and it’s why the dress on Peter’s arm was so pretty. It was why you’d been locked in the basement for days. It was why Peter looked at you the way he did as he helped you stand.

“I’m so sorry,” were the words he murmured into your hair as soon as he leaned you against him.

What was he apologizing for exactly? For killing Michelle or lying to you about it? For taking you and ruining your life in the first place? Or for failing to protect you from the wrath of the other husbands? Maybe he was apologizing for what was to come, and that made you shut your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again as he brought your head to rest in the crook of his neck.

You didn’t respond—didn’t know how to—only allowing him to guide you into the bathroom after unlocking it. You couldn’t really say how you got naked, only feeling as if you blinked before finding yourself sitting in a tub of hot water with Peter raining water down over your head. He was talking to you, saying something that went in one ear and out of the other. All you could focus on was that dress on the toilet, wondering what they planned to make you do while wearing it.

When you felt the weight of Peter’s gaze, it was only then did you take note of the silence. You didn’t know if he’d asked you a question or if he simply opted to stare at you, but when his hand came up to graze the side of your face, you assumed it was the latter. Perusing you, you watched as his gaze became distracted by the shallow scrape on your arm from Bucky’s nails, and when Peter’s jaw tightened, you knew that he realized where it came from too.

“Peter,” you softly forced out, throat tight.

He gave you his undivided attention, and you licked your lips.

“What are they going to do to me?”

Your question came out almost inaudible, just barely above a whisper as you found yourself almost too afraid to ask—too fearful to want to know. When Peter’s face fell some, your own frown deepened, and when he sighed, your heart sank.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” he slowly told you, and you could see that he was telling the truth.

You knew that Peter would have no say in this, you’d known that, but faced with the knowledge that was completely in the dark only served to make your stomach twist more. Only this time, you weren’t able to stop it, and it was Peter who kept you from falling as you hurried to get out of the tub. You only just made it to the toilet in time, and with nothing in your stomach to throw up, all you expelled was bile.

One of Peter’s hands were on your waist, the other soothingly rubbing your back as you vomited again. With every heave of your stomach, you shook more and more, and when you were done, you could only stare at the wall behind the toilet.

“You’re sick,” he said, tone strained with worry.

You shook your head.

“No, I’m just… I’m scared,” you honestly told him, lifting your gaze to meet his. “…and heartbroken.”

Peter sadly tilted his head, and your lips quivered.

“Why did you lie to me?” you breathed. “Why did you…? Why did you minimize your part in it?”

You continued before Peter could lie some more.

“Why did you hold me and comfort me and tell me you weren’t as bad as them when you’re much worse?”

“I’m not,” he argued, grabbing your shoulder.

“…but you are,” you said with a frown. “At least with Steve and Tony and Bucky I know who they are. I fear them because they’ve shown me why I should.”

Peter pulled you closer, resting your head on his chest as he rocked you.

“You made me love you.”

The words came out small and choked, your face crumbling as Peter stilled, and you’d stupidly thought you had no more tears left. Your body proved you wrong, frame shaking as your chest tightened, a cry escaping you in the otherwise quiet bathroom. Peter didn’t respond right away, just holding you as you cried.

“I’m still the same person I was before you found out,” he whispered, rocking you. “…the same person you begged to run away with.”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“I’m not proud of what I did,” he confessed. “…but it’s why I can hold you every night for as long as I want.”

He leaned down to gently kiss your forehead, and your vacant and tearful gaze was on the bathtub, now.

“You don’t have to agree with it, even I don’t agree with it, but it had to be done if I wanted you all to myself.”

You knew that justified it all in Peter’s mind, and the part of your brain that was conditioned to normalize your new reality wanted to pull him closer, but the part that desperately missed your friends and family and old life only wanted to be sick.

When Peter rinsed you off and dried you, his fingers grazed your skin as he helped you get dressed. Soothing words left his lips that didn’t really mean much because how could he calm you against something that was unknown to him too? He didn’t even know what he was comforting you from. Once dressed, he stood before you, looking you over with his fingers grazing over yours.

When your eyes met his, his gaze softened, and you didn’t stop him when he leaned in to press his lips to the corner of your mouth. Like every touch and kiss of his, now, you didn’t really feel it, and when Peter pulled away, you felt that the numbness that consumed you reflected in your own gaze. He heaved a sigh, fingering the ring on your finger.

“I still love you,” he assured you, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “That’ll never change…and even… Even when I have to do whatever it is I have to do today, I’ll be doing it with love.”

Those words didn’t exactly comfort you, and your eyes briefly closed when he walked you out of the bathroom. The stairs were hard to take, courtesy of your lack of food and what little sleep you’d managed to get. You shook beside Peter, and you knew that it was from more than just not eating. In fact, you were sure you were going to throw up again.

The house was unusually quiet—as well as empty—and that did nothing to alleviate your uneasiness. Peter’s hold on your hand was gentle, and as much you loved to hate him in this moment, you appreciated that he walked outside with you instead of walking you outside like a prisoner. You were surprised by how early it was in the day, bringing your hand up to shield your eyes from the rising sun. Days in the darkness had them hurting from the harsh natural light.

Just as you got used to it, a familiar and intimidating voice spoke.

“Leave her right there.”

Only, it wasn’t the voice you were used to being on the receiving end of. Your eyes met familiar blue ones as Peter was forced to step away from you, Bucky’s gaze very much transparent as he looked at you. His anger and disgust were palpable, and you found that you couldn’t hold his gaze.

That was a mistake.

“You will look at me,” he sneered, hurrying over to you and harshly gripping your chin.

Behind him, you could see Peter take a step forward only to be stopped by Sam. Bucky’s fingers were painfully pressing into your skin, and as difficult as you found it, you held the brunette’s gaze. It was in that moment that you realized why the house had seemed so quiet on your way out. You noted that the only person missing was Jane, and you guessed with her pregnancy and a need for someone to watch Margaret and Sharon’s children, they decided to kill two birds with one stone.

They clearly didn’t want to stress her, and that only made you more fearful of what was in store for you.

“We’re not stupid, you know,” Bucky said to you, and you swallowed. “We expect the odd escape attempt here and there.”

You weren’t used to being on the receiving end of Bucky’s venomous gaze, blue eyes icy.

“We look forward to it even,” he confessed. “None of you will ever succeed, so it helps you realize that, and you get it out of your systems.”

You blinked back tears, and Bucky took note of them, lip curling over his teeth.

“In fact…we had been anticipating yours from the moment we let you out of that basement, but I guess you really were too docile to fight back properly,” he continued, voice growing bitter. “Too docile even to tell one of us when our wife was trying to escape.”

When you blinked again, a tear finally escaped, and you didn’t know if you were supposed to respond. Evidently you were.

“What?” Bucky wondered, roughly letting your chin go. “Nothing to say for yourself?”

Your chest heaved with a deep breath, and you started to glance around.

“No, don’t look at them. Look at me,” Bucky ordered. “After all, it was my wife who anything could’ve happened to.”

When your gaze met his again, more tears spilled over, and you sniffed.

“I’m sorry-.”

“We expect you to fight back…try and make a run for it… What we don’t expect is more loyalty to a traitorous wife than the men of the house,” he interrupted you, spitting the words out and making you flinch. “…because anything could come of that. You could kill one of us.”

“I… I’m sorry,” you said again, knowing it wouldn’t change anything but also knowing it was what he wanted to hear.

Bucky stared at you for a long time—too long—just looking down his nose at you as if he could barely stand to look at you. You were all too aware of the eyes on you, all too aware of the example being made out of you. You were in the dark about what was going to happen, now, and it made you want to be sick. However, of all the things you expected…

You didn’t expect Bucky to quickly grab your arm, twisting it—and you with his other arm—before violently shoving you to the ground. It happened so fast that when you finally cried out in pain, clutching your wrist, you were already looking up at him from the grass. He wasn’t looking at you though, hands behind his back as he stepped away from you.

“There are two outcomes for you today,” he started, making his way towards Peter who looked like he was moments away from committing murder—again. “Personally, I’m partial to either outcome…”

When you started to push yourself to your feet, the dark-haired man heard it, pausing to look at you with a wag of his finger.

“No, no. You don’t get up yet…”

Heart sinking, you sat back down, clutching your arm to you as you looked between him and Peter.

“The first,” he dragged out, resting a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “We finally get to see what Peter has in him…”

You froze, skin growing cold and heart dropping to your gut.

“…see if he has what it takes to make you…” Bucky turned his gaze to you, eyes glinting wickedly “…beg him to stop.”

You couldn’t stop more tears from spilling over, the realization of what this day could possibly bring crashing down on you like a wave. When you glanced over, your eyes met a familiar green pair, and Nat’s disgust and regret was plain as day on her face. She looked at you like she wanted to take your place in a heartbeat, but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen.

You couldn’t hold in your sob, pressing your hand to your mouth.

“You can’t cry, now,” Bucky’s voice reached you as he neared you. “We haven’t even started yet.”

He forced you to your feet, and his hands were the only thing keeping you from collapsing.

When you first got here, Peter promised that that would never be you. He told you that he would never, but considering the circumstances of your offense, that choice was no longer up to him. You couldn’t stop sobbing, choking noises climbing out of your throat as Bucky continued.

“The other option is two months in the basement.”

When your eyes met Bucky’s again, there was a gleam in his eye and a curve to his lips that told you it wouldn’t be so easy as choosing which you’d prefer. You didn’t even want to say that the choice would be easy if given one because while your worst fear was recreating what Margaret had to go through during your first days here…you also knew that two months down in that darkness would break you beyond belief.

Two months down there, and you were sure you wouldn’t even be yourself when you emerged.

“It all depends on who gets to you first,” Bucky softly said, making you frown at him.

When he stepped away, you swayed on your feet, but his hand met your arm again when he turned you towards the small pond, free arm gesturing towards the dense trees behind it.

“Those legs that are near and dear to Peter’s heart are going to take you as far as you can go…”

His whispered words made you frown.

“Now, don’t think that you’re getting away…” he looked at you and you slowly looked at him. “…because you’re not. Someone will catch you, it’s only a matter of who, and that determines if this pretty little dress is coming off or not.”

His reminder of one of the possibilities made you lightheaded, and you pressed your hand to your chest when he walked away.

“If Peter catches you, then Peter will do what he has been instructed to do…”

The man in question spoke up, quietly pleading with Bucky, but the older man ignored him.

“…and I was going to participate in this little game,” Bucky said, jaw ticking as he looked at you. “…but you deserve to be terrified after what you did.”

You pressed your lips together, blinking away tears as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“So…” he backed up, a small smile on his pink lips. “If Steve catches you…”

You couldn’t stop your knees from buckling, world spinning as you caught yourself on your hands and knees. Your skin pricked, and you felt almost on the verge of a heart attack.

“He gets to put you in the basement…” a pause. “Again.”

The sounds of the world were going in and out, and once again, you felt like you were going to throw up. Both options were the last thing you ever wanted, and once you ran into those trees, you didn’t know what would relieve you less—the sight of Peter or the sight of Steve. It was sick, really, because obviously you would rather be caught by Peter, but not if it meant…that.

…and if Steve caught you, you just knew it wasn’t going to be that simple

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Bucky’s words were mocking, filled with a mixture of disdain and satisfaction, and as you looked up at him, you didn’t know who you hated more—him or Steve. The blond in question was someone you had avoided looking at since you stepped outside, bitter to see the sick satisfaction that no doubt covered his features at your humiliation.

Your comeuppance.

Pushing yourself to your feet was a struggle, and you didn’t look at Peter, too afraid to realize that he might be who you wanted to catch you, after all, even if it did mean public humiliation beyond comprehension. You felt beyond alone as you walked down the small decline, the dewy grass so nice against the soles of your feet despite the circumstances.

It was only when you got to the tree line, staring inside, did it hit you.

You were going to be hunted and chased down like some animal, and depending on who caught you first, that was what your punishment would be. Both options were enough to make your stomach flip, and for the life of you, you just couldn’t decide which was better. With a panicked sob, you forced your feet to move.

Every tree looked just like the other to you, and there was nothing in these woods to signal some kind of progress as you ran. It was crazy to think that there had once been days when you dreamed about being in these woods, closer to freedom and away from the craziness you’d been forced into. Now, however, you were in said trees and all you could think about was who would get to you first.

Bucky’s words echoed in your mind.

It wasn’t a matter of whether either of them would catch you. Both of you knew that you weren’t getting away from here, let alone from Peter or Steve in these woods. One of them was going to find you first, and even as you brushed past harmful branches and stumbling vines, you still didn’t know which choice presented to you was better. More than anything, you wanted it to be Peter to find you, but could you be okay with being raped for the whole household to see? This wasn’t like that day with Margaret…

Both Steve and Bucky wanted to make the biggest example out of you, and so the entire household would be there to witness your humiliation. However…it was one day. One hour even at the most of Peter doing what he normally did whenever you were alone…just in front of everyone else. If Steve caught you on the other hand…

Two months in the basement was a thought that actually made your knees shake, causing you to stumble against a tree. You knew—you knew—that you couldn’t handle that, and you knew that Peter knew it too. One option was just one bad day, that was all, but the other option would turn you into even more of a mess than you already were. You’d spent less than a week down there at the most, and both times were hell for you.

The second more so than the worst, and you didn’t want to unpack why that was.

When you heard a tree branch snap, you felt yourself freezing. The tree you were next to was larger, much larger than you, and you remained perfectly still as your hand rested against it. You had only stopped for a few moments, and the whole time you’d been lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t even heard any footsteps. In fact, something in you told you that you were supposed to hear the snap of that branch.

When you dared to peek around the trunk, all of your breath left you.

The sight of Steve’s blond hair and back was a stomach turning one, and just as quietly as you peeked around, you hid yourself behind the tree once more. With one movement, you could end this torture and not have to be fucked for the whole household to see, but no matter how much you didn’t want that…you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

…because you didn’t want the alternative either.

Steve terrified you beyond belief—something Bucky had acknowledged—and something in you just knew that he wasn’t going to find you and take you back to the house as easy as that. Outside of raping Margaret, you had never heard of Steve doling out any kind of physical abuse, but you had a sneaking suspicion that Steve would strike you square across the face if he could get away with it.

Peeking around the tree again, you watched him walk away, scanning the area before him for any sign of you. Your nails pressed into the trunk, and with a sinking heart, you both accepted and hoped that Peter would find you, making peace with what that meant for you. With Steve completely out of your sight, you didn’t know which way to go, and so you went forward, adjacent to the direction Steve went.

You felt like you were getting so turned around the further you walked, and you wondered what would happen if you just decided to go back to the house. You wondered how the punishment would be decided then—provided you actually made it back without being caught. The thought of being caught by Steve prevented you from remaining calm and thinking clearly.

Or maybe it was everything else that did that.

You could feel a familiar burn behind your eyes, and you struggled to swallow, throat feeling incredibly tight. You’d thought that you cried enough in the basement, but that kept proving to be untrue. A few tears skipped down your face before many more followed behind, and you took in a shaky breath.

How was it that you hated Peter so so much for what he did…while also wanting nothing more than to just return to your bedroom with him when this was over? You didn’t want to go back down there, alone and bathed in darkness. You wanted to sleep in your bed with Peter and you wanted him to hold you while you cried about the very thing he’d done that caused the tears.

You hated him, but you wanted to be near him.

You didn’t want to hate him from afar. You wanted to hate him while staring at his face every night and listening to the sound of his breathing and feeling his hands on your shoulder as he sat behind you in the bathtub. You hated Peter so much for what he did—and lying about it—but it just wasn’t the kind of hate where you couldn’t stand the sight of him, and you hated him all the more for that.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of footsteps, and considering you’d gone in the opposite direction of Steve, you were prepared to meet your fate when your gaze would meet that of a familiar brown one. Only, the eyes that met yours weren’t brown…they were blue…and you felt your lips part.

You didn’t hesitate to run the other way, a scream climbing out of your throat when you were tackled to the ground. Steve’s hand was pressed to the back of your head as he slammed your face against the leaves and sticks, making you gasp, and when his arm snaked around your neck, a choked sound left you.

You weren’t surprised when he threw you to the dirt again.

“I knew…” he started, slowly following you as you attempted to crawl away. “From the moment Peter gave us that crock of shit about a gentler method, I fucking knew.”

You clawed at the dirt when Steve reached down to pull on one of your legs.

“I knew then that he was being too soft with you,” he spat, flipping you over. “I knew that it would come back to bite us.”

Steve squatted over you, one hand tightly curling around your throat, and you struggled to breathe as he slowly forced you to your feet. Your scraped at his hand, gaze tearful and pleading as Steve stared you down, nostrils flaring. His blond hair was a mess, an unusual sight for you, but those blue eyes were as cold as ever.

Steve really hated you.

“Bucky is better than me,” Steve hissed at you. “…because if Margaret had gotten as far as Nat did because of you, I wouldn’t make Peter stop until you were begging for him to put you out of your misery.”

You pushed at his hands, panicked, and he only shook you in response.

“You think he’s your best fucking friend,” Steve breathed through clenched teeth, sizing you up. “Instead of the man who owns you.”

When he threw you down, your head spun, and you struggled to right your vision. You pressed your hands to your temples as you cried, fighting the urge to curl in on yourself.

“That ends today…”

Steve’s words were spoken with finality, and you didn’t quite understand the meaning of them as you heard approaching footsteps. You heard Steve exhale, and when you dared to look up, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of Peter.

“Peter,” he acknowledged. “Love that timing of yours.”

Peter didn’t hesitate to hurry towards you, placing a hand on your head as you sobbed. As you’d suspected, you knew it wasn’t going to be that simple if Steve caught you instead, and you realized just how complicated it was going to be at the sound of his next words.

“We need to make sure nothing like this happens again, Peter,” Steve told him, and they shared a look, something unspoken between them that had Peter’s jaw clenching.

“So, is that why you forgot who she belongs to? Is that why you treated her like you used to treat Peggy on her really bad days? She’s already terrified of you. What more do you want?” he sneered at him, briefly looking at you and brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“I need her to be terrified of you,” Steve answered, hands on his hips. “I told you from the beginning that you were too soft with her. I told you what needed to be done for her to get it.”

“Yeah, Steve, alright, I get it-!”

“…but you don’t,” Steve yelled at Peter, staring at the younger man just like a brother would. “You don’t get it because if you did, this would’ve never happened.”

Steve gestured around, cutting you a scathing look that made you wither.

“She would’ve never felt more loyal to Nat than the men who run this household. She would’ve understood that she exists to serve you and the house as a whole by extension.”

You hated the way Peter’s hands slowed on your face, and when you looked at his own face, he looked to be deep in thought.

“Not just the wives and whatever they think is best, but what’s best for the family,” Steve paced. “You are going to make her understand that she’s not your friend and certainly not your fucking equal.”

You watched Peter defeatedly exhale, eyes falling closed.

“You are going to make her understand that, right now,” Steve snarled.

“Steve…”

Peter’s tone was pleading, and that was when you finally sat up, looking between them with a racing heart. You scooted back, but Peter’s hand on your arm prevented you from going far. When your gaze met his, his eyes had softened, something in them pleading with you.

“I will make you, Peter.”

Steve’s tone was scarily calm, and you glanced at him, lips shaking at the malice in his eyes.

“Do you understand me? I will not rest until I catch her slipping up again, and depending on my mood that day, I just might make you fuck her right there in the garden for all to see,” he quietly told him. “So, it’s either now or it’s later…but it is happening. You decide.”

In truth, you didn’t know why you were crying. You had already accepted that you’d rather get the bad thing over with than drag it out for two months. However, that was the thing, wasn’t it? Steve was going to make Peter do this and still turn around and throw you right down in that basement. Even though there was less humiliation involved, it still seemed unfair.

“Do this and…maybe I can convince Bucky to only leave her down there for a month,” Steve proposed, and by the tone of his voice, he knew that he’d won.

You barely had time send Steve a scathing look of your own before your back roughly met the ground.

Peter’s mannerisms were rough, and while you knew it was because Steve wanted them to be, it didn’t mean you had to like it. You didn’t think Peter had ever been rough with you, and you cried out at the harsh pull on your hair, his other hand painfully digging into your waist.

“See, you need to understand, sweetheart,” Steve’s voice reached your ears as he circled you. “That you belong to Peter. You exist as an extension of him, now. You exist to exalt him, and the only way that you will get it in your head that you’re his property…”

Peter had flipped you onto your stomach, now.

“Is if he treats you like it.”

You yelped when your chest was forced to the ground, Peter manhandling you in the way he knew Steve wanted.

“…and what better way to do that than to show you that he can and will take you wherever and whenever regardless of who is around to see it,” he slowly said, making sure he was heard loud and clear.

The humiliation of feeling Peter push his cock into you before Steve’s very eyes had you squeezing yours shut, a harsh sob escaping as Peter’s skin slapped against yours. His hand was on your throat, and you clawed at it, gasping when his teeth pressed into your shoulder.

“You don’t have autonomy over your body anymore. You don’t exist independently of Peter, and that extends to this family…”

Peter’s harsh thrusts made your toes curl, and what was once a rough entry had become much smoother. With no warning and feeling wholly unprepared for this turn of events, tears escaped your eyes, and your fingers dug into the grass and dirt. The feel of Peter’s cock pushing into your walls was a familiar one you’d grown to love, but the sound of Steve’s pacing steps and voice made you want to crawl in a hole.

You felt torn apart.

“Had you previously understood that, all of this could’ve been prevented.”

Steve sounded pleased with himself—and Peter—and the thought made you sick. When Peter pulled your head back, you winced, and you started to move away from him, wanting this earlier and regretting it now—especially since you were going back into the basement anyway.

When Peter’s lips grazed your ear, you shuddered.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to you, hand painfully pulling at your hair, making you cry out again.

You recalled Peter’s words from earlier, and you knew why this was happening. You understood the hierarchy in the household, understood that what Steve said went, and you knew without a shadow of a doubt that Steve would’ve absolutely made this happen for the whole house to say. You understood that this was the better alternative, but that understanding is what made you cry more.

This wasn’t something to be understood. The man thrusting into you had killed your friends and kidnapped you, and the man before you had helped. Peter wasn’t your husband or your lover but instead your captor and rapist. Nothing about any of this was right, and in this moment, you shouldn’t be rationalizing or understanding anything.

…but you did.

You understood why Peter grabbed you with no hesitation and proceeded to fuck you under Steve’s watchful eye. You understood why being raped for all to see had briefly been the better choice to you than being sent back into the basement. You understood why Peter was murmuring sweet nothings and apologies into your ear as he roughly held you down and plunged his cock into you.

You understood it all, and you hated it.

You didn’t want to simultaneously hold Peter closer and push him away as he roughly fucked you against the grass, face to face with you, now. You didn’t want him to obey when Steve told him to fuck you harder. You didn’t want to understand that Peter didn’t actually want this because if that were true he simply wouldn’t do it, right? You didn’t want to accept that this house didn’t follow the rules of the outside world and that so long as you were here—and you would be here forever—neither would you.

“Are you sorry, now?” Steve wondered, somehow able to hear his voice over the sound of your cries. “Hmm?”

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer, but you knew you gave him that anyway the moment you started crying. When Peter’s eyes met yours, he shushed you, a poor attempt to make this better somehow, and his next words made you blink.

“Do you see how much worse I could be?” he whispered, too low for Steve to hear. “How much worse they want me to be?”

You stared at him, nails digging into the skin of his arm, and with another harsh sob, you nodded.

“Do you understand what I’ve been trying to protect you from?”

Again, you nodded.

Peter’s nose grazed your own.

“Do you get it now?” he sadly asked you.

When you nodded again, unable to find your voice between cries, Peter shushed you. His fingers pressed into your skin, and his hips painfully came down against yours. When his lips pressed against yours, they swallowed the noises that escaped your throat.

“I never wanted this for you.”

…and you knew Peter was telling the truth.

#peter parker x reader #dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #dark fic #peter parker imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #cop au

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 1 year ago

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Perfect Family

Pairing: Dark Peter Parker x (female) Reader

�� This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Peter knows you’re about to break up with him. So what’s the next logical step? Get you pregnant, obviously.

WARNINGS: Babytrapping; Toxic relationship; Birth control Tampering.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Peter knows exactly what you’re planning, after all he knows everything about you. You’re his other half, his soulmate.

That’s how he knows you’re planning to break up with him. When he found out through the messages you had been sending your best friend he couldn’t believe his eyes.

How could you ever want that? You love him, he’s sure of that.

You’re always telling him you love him, before you leave for your college or when you’re about to go to bed. Even if it’s with a blank face, rushing the words out of your mouth before you walk away, without a sincere smile.

He makes sure to keep an update on the messages, his heart practically skipping a beat when you reveal your plan to break-up after your first-year anniversary, just a few weeks away.

Peter forces himself to remain calm and to act as if he knows nothing, keeping up with the caring boyfriend’s character. He can’t raise suspicion now.

If his plan works out, you won’t be going anywhere.

“I’m pregnant.” you declare with a shaky voice. Peter stops, the plate falling off his hold and crashing into the ground.

“Peter, I’m so sorry. I-I don’t know how this happened, I swear I took the birth control pills every day, I never missed them!” you exclaim, twisting your hands in anxiety.

Peter looks at you, his face completely expressionless and you fear the worst. You drop your head, panic starting to grow stronger. Peter is going to hate you for ruining everything.

You’re about to ruin both of your futures, but his especially. He wants to go to MIT, not become a dad so soon.

“I’m truly so sorry and I-” Peter runs to you, elevating you into the air and swirling around as he lets out loud chuckles.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna be a dad. Fuck, that’s the best news ever.” he exclaims, carefully dropping you back onto your feet. You clean the tears with the back of your hand, a small hopeful feeling growing inside you as you look at him. He looks radiant, much happier than what you had predicted.

“R-Really? You’re not mad at me?” you hesitantly ask. Peter fondly smiles at you, cupping your cheek.

“I could never be mad at you for this. It takes two to make a baby. Besides, it was always part of our future plans, right?” he says, dropping the last sentence with a lightly sketchy tone as if he’s waiting for you to agree but you ignore it, it’s probably your imagination acting up.

You can’t be a single-mother, you already know you won’t be able to deal with it and your child deserves to have both its father and mother together in their life, it’s the least you can do.

You can’t abandon Peter anymore.

You nod as Peter drops on the ground, pressing his head against your belly. Your hand instinctively goes to his head, caressing his brown hair and his hand comes to cover your own.

“This is perfect.” Peter whispers, pressing kisses towards your belly, where your baby is developing. “You, me and our baby. A perfect family.”

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere avengers #yandere marvel #yandere peter parker #dark marvel #dark peter parker #dark peter parker x reader #yandere peter parker x reader #dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader #yandere!peter parker #yandere!peter parker x reader #tw: yandere #tw: birth control tampering #tw: baby trapping #yandere x reader #yandere x you #tw.baby trapping

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yichuuonvenus · 9 months ago

Text

Sweet Serial Killer

Peter Parker x Reader

~Description~

You've had a little crush on your brother's friend Peter, but you didn't know he felt the same until it was too late.

~Warnings~

Rape/non-consent, Murder, Loss of virginity, Webbing as bondage, Serial Killer!Peter Parker

The first time you ever met your brother’s friends was during one of their first sleepovers as a group. After that, it seemed like they came over frequently.

Your parents told you to look after the boys. You found it a bit dumb since they were only a year younger than you, but you still agreed to it. You were getting money for it after all.

The funny part was that you only knew one of their names, Peter, your brother told you one day. You only wanted to know because you had the smallest crush on Peter. It wasn’t anything big you just liked it whenever he would give you all his attention when you talked about something you liked or how he would apparently ask about you when you weren’t home.

You knew the chance of him having a crush on you too was slim to none, he was like that with everyone. He was just curious nothing more but you still dreamt of the chance of him liking you back.

You slumped a bit when you remembered tonight was horror movie night. To be honest you weren’t a horror fan you always opted to turn on something a bit more romantic or interesting. It always caused an eye roll from the boys but you didn’t really care because one person who would always be down to watch the movie with you was Peter.

You immediately stopped when you took the scene in front of you and frowned. Peter had sat at the corner of the couch. Your favorite spot, while the others sat on the floor with pillows and blankets surrounding them.

You heard a voice say your name followed by a hey.

You looked up and saw those soft brown eyes and immediately forgot what you were going to say.

“Hi…”

You smiled at him and he smiled back. You didn’t know what to do, so you gave him a small wave and sat on the other end of the couch.

“Do you want me to move?” Peter's voice was soft when he asked.

“No, it’s alright.” You shook your head and pulled out your phone, trying to ignore him a bit. You didn’t want to look at him with the heat currently rushing to your face.

The night was just starting and the boys were still trying to pick a movie.

You rolled your eyes when you heard one of the boys say something vulgar about something you didn’t care to listen to. You sat on your phone ignoring them arguing about what movie to watch.

It took what felt like an hour before they decided on Friday the 13th. You did a small sigh and hugged a pillow close to your chest.

It was quiet for the first couple of minutes. You hated to say it but you were scared of horror movies. You wanted to be the brave older sibling and stick to your guns, but then you started to hear scratching at the window. One of the boys addressed it causing your brother to shush him.

It stopped for a minute and then it slowly started back again. The scene was adding to the tension. Every time a woman screamed a scratch would be at the window. Finally, another boy said something and again your brother shushed him.

It went quiet for a few moments then you all continued with your movie. As if in sync with the movie, a loud bang sounded the window causing the boys and you to scream. Everyone was as startled but your brother fell over from laughing.

“Harry!” One of them said.

At the window, you saw a flash of auburn hair. A boy probably about the size of Peter stood at the window laughing. He pointed to the door. The black-haired boy got up and opened it. When Harry came inside. He had tears on his face from laughing so hard.

“You all are so easy to scare!” A hearty laugh left his throat causing one of the boys to groan.

“You can’t do that! We are watching a scary movie,” the black-haired boy said.

“Yeah you scared her too,” Peter said eyes drifting back to you.

You looked at Peter his stare never drifting away from you. You felt something in your chest heat up from his stare but you didn’t give it any thought.

You rolled your eyes to hide the fact you felt the heat in your cheeks. You looked towards Harry whose eyes went wide at the sight of you.

“I didn’t know she would be here,” he sighed with a mix of a chuckle, “if I knew I would’ve got the mask.”

The boys laughed a bit as Harry plopped down next to your brother. The heat on your face never went away. You sat there biting your lip and continued reading the story. They all talked a bit before playing the movie back.

It was getting darker and you all were feeling quite tired. Your brother went down first. Then the black-haired boy, who they called Ned.

And then Harry.

You and Peter were the only ones awake. You sat on your phone reading whatever. You felt your eyes drifting a bit until you finally closed your eyes.

You felt a shake and then a push. You slowly opened your eyes to find Peter looking down at you.

He softly said your name, making you look up, your eyes desperately trying to adjust to the light blue lighting of the tv.

“Can you show me where the bathroom is?” His eyes were soft looking at you almost apologetically.

“No yeah… I can hold on,” you moaned a bit stretching and sitting up. The boys below you stirred a bit for the sounds you made and you carefully tip-toed across them.

Peter followed close behind you, his chest almost touched your back but you didn’t really question it. The only thing you did question was how he asked where the bathroom was because of how often he’s here. You both rounded a corner and pointed at the door.

“Tell me if you need anything,” you yawned.

“Yeah thank you,” he whispered to you and closed the door. You decided to walk back carefully. You didn’t know if a couple of minutes passed because of how you fell in and out of sleep but you heard something that pulled you straight out of sleep. You rubbed your eyes a bit and that was when you heard it… your name. Your name was the one being softly called.

You got up and walked to the noise. It led you back to the bathroom. Groaning and moaning filled the halls making you shiver a bit.

“P- Peter??” It was met by silence. “Are you okay?” Still nothing.

It was until you heard some shuffling and flushing.

“Yeah I’m fine…“

“Peter, are you sure?”

It was in a flash and Peter was in front of you his lips touching yours.

You winced a bit from the counter digging into your lower back. You didn’t give it a second thought because you felt soft lips touching yours.

Your hands met Peter’s chest holding him, not knowing to push him away or to pull him closer. He lifted you onto the counter, hugging you close so that his lips never parted from you.

You gasped when you felt his hands rip down your shorts along with your underwear.

“You look so pretty,” Peter huffed into your neck.

You should’ve pushed him off and questioned his motives but you couldn’t. Your whole body was tingling from his touches. One of his hands went back to your heat. His fingers were circling your entrance causing you to do a slight whimper.

“Peter, what are you-“

He stuffed two fingers inside of you. The stretch from his fingers was melting you. They were thicker than yours and longer.

“You’re so tight,” he moaned grinning from ear to ear.

You were slumped against the sink, eyes tightly shut and fingers gripping the countertop.

You felt his lips graze your thighs. He gave them light pecks as he traveled to meet his fingers.

His lip’s immediately enveloped your clit. Sucking and licking that button until you were whining and whimpering. He slowed down a bit and smiled at you.

“I know how badly you want to make noise but you have to keep quiet though princess… you don’t want your brother to see how much of a slut you are, do you?”

You only shook your head causing him to chuckle a bit and stop.

“You have to use your words, princess.”

“No… I don’t want my brother to see,” you whispered but it sounded more like a moan leaving your lips.

“It wasn’t that hard was it?” He smiled up at you and went back to your clit.

His fingers continued their assault on you. You shook under his touches with the way he would switch his fingers and tongue. You felt like you were on fire.

You heard your name being called over and over again.

Wake up

Please!

"Please wake up!"

You heard your brother sobbing at your side, shaking you violently.

You shook awake. Your eyes flew open. You stared at your brother, tearing were in his eyes. You looked at the figure standing there holding a bloody knife. There was a dead body limp across from you.

“Guys… Run! RUN! RUN NOW!” You heard Ned scream. The killer was in front of you guys the knife in his gloved hands, bloody.

He didn’t have to tell you all twice. You ran out of the door your brother running to get to the keys.

"WAIT," you screamed towards your brother as Ned took your hand and started to run.

You both heard a scream. Coming for the house’s direction.

You both ran for what felt like a long time until you finally slowed down a bit.

“Ned… what the fuck are we going to do… I- I can’t go on,” you sobbed. You felt like your legs were giving out on you.

“I- I don’t know… we-“ Ned was cut short when he tripped over a log.

“Are- are you okay?” You gasped helping him up immediately.

Just then you both heard a snap of a twig. Causing Ned to scream. Harry was standing a few feet away from you both. A knife at his side.

You and Ned looked over at him. He was limping but still, somehow running.

“Harry, holy shit are you okay?” Ned gasped bringing his hands to his mouth and looking at him.

There was blood everywhere on him.

“Man… I- I didn’t even know… we need to get the fuck out of here and get the cops. It’s still a couple of miles away but if we run now we could get there,” Harry said. He held his side and blood seeping through his gray shirt.

“Harry, you need medical attention. We need to get that to stop bleeding,” you said, trembling a bit.

You all were standing there at one minute then screaming the next. Harry was wide-eyed and opened mouth. A knife through his skull. Blood spattered all over you and Ned.

You both started to run again only this time you were being chased by the masked figure.

Ned was the next one to go down. A blood-soaked gurgling was all that could be heard.

You sobbed into your sleeves shaking so hard as you ran. Your tears blinded you causing you to smack into something. The forest bed was damp beneath you, twigs stabbing into your back as you gulped for air.

You felt a pull at your hair and a rip of your clothes. You were pulled up against a tree. You could feel the mud below you soak your shirt and the tree bark digging into your head.

Your shirt was ripped down in half and your shorts were nowhere to be seen. You were left in your underwear. The masked figure, you could barely see from your minor concussion, sat there holding you down. You supposed he was staring at your body.

“Fuck…” you heard the figure say.

He pulled himself out of his pants and suddenly you felt the head of him slide against you. You wanted to shove him away but the strength was forced out of you when got knocked out.

You couldn’t stop shaking and trying to push him away to no avail. It continued like this until you felt webs on your hands and the tree bark scratching the back of your hands. You didn’t connect it sooner. Only ignoring everything as you stared at the sky, trying not to look down as he forced your legs to open wider. He was thick and veiny and felt heavy on your thighs.

“Please… don’t do this,” You sobbed. Your tears couldn’t stop from coming out.

“Princess it’s okay…” the masked figure pulled his mask away. Causing you to gasp at the view of him. Your eyes adjusted to him. Brown soft eyes staring down at you. You knew by the curly brown hair who it was.

It was Peter…

It was Peter Parker.

Sweet Peter…

Was the one in front of you right now.

Was the one who killed Harry and Ned.

And possibly your brother…

What you would give to see your brother right now. To have him help you get this boy off of you.

You hoped and hoped but he never came.

“Peter… please. I’m so sorry! I- I don’t know what we did or what I did but please forgive me,” you cried as he shushed you and rubbed your face. His thumb rubbing your bottom lip.

“Princess you didn’t do anything. I wanted this to be so special for you. But the guys got in the way…”

He didn’t make any sense as he rubbed his fingers over your mouth. You felt the sudden rip of your underwear and then the feel of them in your mouth.

“Fuck… you’re so precious…” he moaned into your ear causing you to cry out.

His lips covered your ear, nipping and licking at the lobe. He slid over you but not on purpose only because when he tried to force himself in. He moaned when the head of him slowly came inside. You could feel the air rip from your lungs.

You felt the swift push and stab in your entire bottom half. He entered fully you. It was like having a kick to your chest. The pain was what got you to scream out. Blood was rushing to your legs and face. You felt overheated even in the cold forest air.

You started to sob even more. You couldn’t stop shaking.

“Fuckkk… You’re a virgin?” He cooed. His hands were holding your face and his lips kissing your jaw.

You looked down and saw the blood that stained his cock. It made you cry out and shake. You never stopped shaking.

“Fuck I’m so sorry princess… but it will feel good I swear,” he moaned as he thrusts into you. His hips became mind-numbing harder and you couldn’t stop the whimpers and moans that left your lips.

“Please…” you cried so hard your face was swollen.

He took out the gag in your mouth. It immediately made you cough and cry harder. Drool soaked your face and your underwear.

“It hurts…” you whined. “Please! Peter get off.”

He only moaned when he fucked into you harder.

“I really wish I could… but you’re so tight it’s almost like you’re sucking me in.” His mouth with up against your ear again. You didn’t pay attention to those words only the feeling of his hips pounding into yours. The pain dulled a bit when he started to throw kisses down your neck.

It was messing with you the feel of his tongue on certain spots. It made your mind melt. You could feel the tree bark dig at your hands and wetness soaking it. You knew it could've been blood or something wet on the tree. You didn't want to think about it. You couldn't think about it. Not with the feel of him inside you pulling sounds out of you like it was almost nothing.

You heard him mumble something then the feel of his lips back on your ear.

“I’ve wanted you for the longest time… and if this was the only way to get you… then,” he chuckled. His hip ever so slightly slowing down a bit. It was as if he was trying to be gentle with you but even with his efforts it was still intense with the way his cock slid into you.

“Peter…”

You couldn’t stop crying. You could barely breathe. It was like you forgot how to breathe.

“I would do it again every time just for this sweet outcome,” he moaned when he thrust into a particular spot that had your toes curling and your vision blurring.

He smiled down at you fondly holding your face as he picked up his pace.

"Peter... please," you sobbed. Your hands were numb and your legs ached from being forcefully opened.

“Are you going to cum?" He groaned. "You can…,” he whispered. His thumb rubbed your lips before entering your mouth.

"Suck on it and you can cum."

Tears were nonstop and your face was wet and swollen. You could barely think. No thoughts at all forming, so you did what he asked. Sucking on his thumb until he was satisfied. You came around him in a cry.

"That's it, my sweet girl." He smiled at you, hips never slowing down once.

Your vision was blank. Your mind couldn't form coherent thoughts. One thing that wandered through your mind was the last thing he said.

His sweet girl…

No.

His thrusts never stopped. He fucked you roughly through your climax never stopping once. You squeezed your palms so tightly that it felt like blood was pooling in them from your nails.

“It’s okay breathe… I'll be done soon," he huffed. His cheeks were red and sweat droplets were running down his face.

"Is it okay if I finished inside of you?"

Your eyes went wide with horror. You needed to get him off of you. Your hands were tied and your legs were forced open by him. You tried to cut the web off with your nails to no avail. It was like all of your strength with forced out of you with his thrusts.

"Peter don't! Please!" you sobbed desperately trying to claw at the webs.

His thrusts got harder and faster again and a loud groan filled your ears. You felt the warmth as it entered you. You gasped unable to fully process what he did. Peter was hunched over you his lips sucking and kissing your neck. You were blank, too out of it to even respond to his kisses and apologies.

Peter… your sweet Peter had murdered his friends just to get to you.

Your sweet, lovable Peter had just raped you.

His fingers came back to your face slowly holding your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, princess…” he said softly. His hands made you face him. Your noses briefly touching.

“Peter… just let me go. Please.” You whispered as soft cries left you. “I won’t tell anyone I promise.”

His face softened, “No no, I’m so sorry. Please don’t cry, baby.”

You wanted to hurt him so badly but your heart was breaking at the sight of his tears. You were so distraught and hurt. Your brother’s best friend that you’ve known for so long… had raped you.

You couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to hug him and apologize for making him cry but the urge to kill him with no remorse was pulsating through you.

He has used you in the worst way possible but you couldn’t push all those fond memories and feelings you’ve had with him.

You heard yelling and a lot of twigs snapping. Dogs were barking so loudly that it was as if the ground was shaking from it.

Help.

Help was coming.

Peter looked in the direction of the sounds before holding your face and kissing your lips as if it was like last time.

“I’m so sorry…” he whispered tears falling down his cheeks.

You didn't understand what he meant until you felt a sudden prick in your neck and you were out.

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader

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deathofacupid · 10 months ago

Text

faults | peter parker

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)

check out my masterlist!

this can technically be read as either a 2nd part to this, or a stand-alone!

if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!

(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.

right?

taglist!

@whatsupstark

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #peter parker #spiderman #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #fluff #angst #tom holland x you #peter parker imagine #dark!peter parker #dark!fic #tw noncon #dark!peter x reader #dark!peter parker x reader

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queenoftheworldisdead · 2 months ago

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Non-compete

chapter 1

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used. Let me know if i fucked up and not do that. Chat me up i don't bite!

Summary: Your super genius younger sister is offered a chance of a lifetime to work for either Oscorp or Stark industries straight out of high school. Her choices leave you stuck in an unrequited love triangle.

Warning: Slow Burn, Adult content only! 18+ only please. Dark! There is potentially triggering stories ahead.

Norman Osborn x Reader, (not in this chapter Peter Parker x Reader)

💻

You sit in the hallway, tapping your shoe against the linoleum floor, nerves building as you wait with your sister. Emily however was the opposite, ever calm and more focused on her laptop than the upcoming interview.

Because of her age, a guardian, you, had to be present for it. You're so proud of her, she is the smartest person in the world, at least in your opinion. Your little genius had always been miles ahead of her peers and most adults. By the time most kids were learning to ride bikes she was already competing in national science competitions, collecting trophies like playing cards.

But all those smarts came with a downside—she got bored easily, and that’s when the trouble would start. If she wasn’t challenged enough, she’d find creative ways to stir things up, both at home and in school. Her teachers were constantly asking to move her up a few grades, but you refused—you wanted her to have the full experience of growing up with her peers, even if it meant managing a bit of mischief along the way.

At home, she’d tinker with electronics or 'improve' things around the house, which usually ended with something sparking off. Sure it led to the occasional electrical fire, but she meant well.

"Stop your embarrassing me." She hisses swatting you away.

"Your tags popping out," you whisper, recoiling back with a frown. You just want everything to be perfect for her.

"Fine." She sighs reluctantly. You perk up when she relents to your mothering. Its a bad habit you know, but it's a hard one to break.

“He is ready to see you now." The young, sharply dressed woman announces suddenly, catching you both off guard.

Emily stands first, clamping her laptop shut and shouldering her bag as you stand to follow.

“Excuse me are you her guardian?” She halts you abruptly.

“Oh yes, I was told she needed to have a guardian with her for this.” You answer unconfidently. Had you misread the email? No Emily would’ve said something. You look to your sister as she clutches her laptop, she just as confused as you are.

“I’m sorry Miss, but guardians must wait outside. If she proceeds to the next phase you’ll be allow to chaperon.” The lady explains.

“O-Oh sorry, sorry about that. Well um good luck Sparkles,” you stutter out nervously taking a stepback, nearly stumbling back into the chair.

She grimaces at the pet-name, and you instantly realize your mistake. You shrivel as you sink into the chair avoiding her gaze. She's annoyed, she’s told you before, but it just slips out sometimes.

“Well OK then I think we’re all set to go now, right?,” Emily asks sharply turning on her heals to face the professional woman.

You don’t look up as they leave through the double glass doors. No doubt when this is over she will be in a mood.

💻

The longer the wait the more nervous you feel. You try not to think about what is going on beyond the conference walls and slyly people watch.

Everyone seems to be your age or way older and that worried you. More and more this seems like a bad idea. You didn't want her thrusted into adulthood like you were. There were so many missed experiences that you wished you had and didn't want that for her. She was much too young for this. She should be applying for universities not presenting prototypes to old men in suits.

The conference rooms door open and you sit up anxiously. You perk up when you hear Emily's voice. She sounds happy, that had to be a good sign. At least you hope so.

You watch as Emily exits first, followed by a man who looks much older than your father. They don't seem to register your presences as they immerse themselves in technical language that you can’t follow.

You stay seated, pretending to go through your phone, trying your best not to embarrass her again. If the interview went bad they wouldn't still be talking right?

Emily mentions your name, you catch it, and tense when you find them both walking over to you.

"Mr. Osborn this is my sister," Emily introduces you suddenly. You shoot up from your seat too quickly, nearly spilling over your bag as you try and greet the man. He doesn’t seem to notice as he extends his hand and approaches. You force a smile, hoping he can’t see the nervous energy creeping through you.

“Hello,” you squeak out as he shakes your hand firmly. “N-Nice to meet you Mr. Osborn.”

"You can call me Norman," he corrects with a smirk. You look to Emily and gauge how your doing. She’s smiling, but somehow you know she isn’t happy with your performance thus far.

"You have a brilliant sister. Did she learn everything from you?"

"Oh no… I could never. I wish I was half as smart as her." You stammer out under his intense gaze. It feels like he is watching ever word that comes out of your mouth. It's nerve-wracking; you don’t want him to judge your sister poorly because of her bumbling, idiot of a sibling.

"She has always been super supportive. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for her." Your sister cuts in quickly and you're grateful.

"I see. Well you did a fantastic job." He states before turning his attention back to your sister. You feel relief to be out of the spot light, it was never a place you longed to be, unlike her. "I wish I could stay longer, but I have another meeting to get to."

“Thank you for the opportunity Mr. Osborn.”

You snort at her professional facade, but when she frowns, you quickly look away and stifle it. It's so cute. You’d never heard her sound so mature before.

“Nonsense its an honor to meet such a promising young woman.”

💻

#dark peter parker x reader #dark Norman Osborn x reader #dark!peter parker x reader #dark!Norman Osborn x reader #dark peter parker x black reader #dark Norman Osborn x black reader #dark!Peter Parker x Black Reader #Dark!Norman Osborn x Black Reader #Dark Peter Parker x WOC reader #Dark Norman Osborn x WOC reader #Dark!Peter Parker x WOC reader #Dark!Norman Osborn x WOC reader

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thesithdiaries · 2 years ago

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this was peak dark!peter parker for me. i used to read fics about it but never got into that mindset but after watching no way home, it finally clicked

like this whole entire vibe was what i needed

#marvel imagine #mcu imagine #peter parker imagine #dark peter parker #dark peter x reader #dark!peter parker x reader

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sincericida · 11 months ago

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Rereading for the reason of being toooooo good!

Symbiote: Part One

dark!Peter Parker x Reader (fem) , platonic!Miles Morales x Reader

Summary: You host your best friends, Miles and Peter over to your home for your weekly Wednesday night board games and dinner. Peter’s late, and something is very wrong.

Warnings: 18+ noncon touch, scary Peter, curse words, mentions of fighting and blood. What do you call it when you get willingly kidnapped?

Symbiote Navigation Symbiote Playlist Crossposted on AO3

Part Two Finale

Your kitchen smelled incredible every Wednesday night like clockwork. For the past few years Wednesdays were for decompressing, eating killer food and playing board games until you pass out on the couch. Your best friends, Peter and Miles were due to arrive twenty minutes ago - sending you into a quiet panic.

When your two best friends are crime fighting heroes you tend to worry. So you pace, stopping occasionally to make sure the food is cooking well. “They’ll be here,” you whisper to yourself. Your favorite music played from your tv’s sound-bar, keeping you level headed and from dipping into protective best friend territory. You know, the kind when you text your friends and call them about fifteen times each and leave them numerous voicemails along with far too many texts.

The oven dings just as someone knocks on the door. You let out a long sigh, finally able to breathe after worrying so much. “Just one sec!” You yell as you took the food out of the oven, hearing another knock on your door. “Coming, I promise!”

Sitting the pan down on the towel covering the counter top you turn on your sock covered heels as you wiped your hands on your pants. You walk to the door and open it, smiling widely, “Well, there you are!” “Aye! There’s my girl!” Your best friend Miles smiled warmly as his arms pulled you into a warm embrace. You grunt as he squeezed you tighter, “Too strong, Miles!”

Miles released you, chuckling as you motioned him inside, “come on in! How are you, dear? I was worried sick about you.” Before you shut the door, you look around for Peter outside. “Miles, have you seen Pete? Or heard from him?” You ask, walking back over to the stovetop and mixing up a side dish. “He hasn’t texted all day, I’m a little concerned. It’s just not like him.”

Miles shook his head as he braced his hands on the counter in front of him. “I haven’t seen him or heard from him either, Y/N. He didn’t tell me of any intense Spidey stuff going on lately. The last time he texted me was last night close to his patrol ending,” he explains, pulling out his cellphone to read the message. “He said ‘weird activity around the park - I’ll text if I need you’ and never texted back. I fell asleep and then just forgot to check back with him.”

The room was tense as both of you radiated concern, you pull out your phone beginning to call Peter. It rang once and ended. You shake your head, trying again. No answer. Miles calls him and the same happens to him, one ring and ending. “Is he ending the calls himself?” Miles asks, furrowing his brows as he tried once more to call Peter.

But then three slow knocks rang from the door. Miles lowers his phone as you both stare at each other before looking at the door. You rush over and open it, seeing Peter standing there. Miles let’s out a content sigh seeing his friend, “Thank gods.”

“Oh my gosh, Pete! We were so worried!” You say, throwing your arms around him in a warm embrace. “Gosh, you’re freezing - come inside!” You say, pushing Peter into the house and onto your couch.

“We have been worried sick about you,” you say, moving Peter’s fluffy hair from his face. His eyes seem to glance over to you, you could feel it. “What happened?”

“You kinda fell off of the radar after you texted me last night,” Miles says, flashing his eyes at you - his brows furrowed seeing Peter sitting so upright and quite, staring at the wall. “Peter?”

Silence.

You and Miles throw blankets over Peter as he sits on your couch, still seeming to be staring past you both - completely unmoved. Again, you and Miles look towards each other, having a complete conversation in glances. Miles smacks his lips together before sitting down, rubbing his hands on his jeans as he sits forward towards Peter.

“Pete, you good, man?” Miles asks as Peter seems to snap out of whatever was going on with him - turning towards him as he smirked. He looked tired. “Yeah, M. I’m - I’m good.” He shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Are you sure? We were really worried about you, like pretty bad worried,” Miles explains, adjusting in the chair he was sitting in across from Peter.

“I said I’m fine,” Peter snapped - his voice raspy. You and Miles look at each other with wide eyes before you look back to Peter. “Sorry, didn’t mean to pry,” Miles says reluctantly, looking down at the ground trying to divert his gaze from Peter.

Peter was like a big brother to Miles - this is not how Peter acts normally. He’s kind and funny - constantly attentive and making sure the two of you are okay. You guys were the three amigos and had been for years now - really like a tiny found-family. You and Peter met Miles at FEAST three years ago, becoming fast friends. After finding out about Miles’ powers Peter took him in under his wing, teaching him his tricks and moves and how to better harness his abilities. Ever since then the three of you have been inseparable - hanging out every Wednesday without fail and seeing each other whenever possible. You were the mom of the group, Miles was the kid brother despite being in his early twenties and Peter was the glue, the comedic timing - always saying the right thing just when you need it.

But this? This - whatever was going on was a stark contrast from the normal camaraderie the three of you shared. The room was thick and tense. Peter’s blank stare sent shivers up your spine as you glance over to Miles, seeing the sadness and confusion in his eyes - looking defeated by his best friend and mentor’s actions.

“Well, uh - dinner is ready.. let’s go eat,” you motion the two over to the table, hoping to ease the awkwardness. “I’m sure you guys will love it. I worked extra hard. Eat up!” You sit at the head of the table between Miles and Peter, watching as Miles seems to basically inhale the entire plate before you could finish your first few bites.

Peter hadn’t touched his food though. He sat, staring off into the kitchen past Miles. His sweet eyes were dark, seedy - something was definitely off. The way he had been acting for really the last 24 hours was completely out of character for Peter. You gently place your hand on his, “Pete? Do you want me to put your plate in the oven until you’re hungry?”

He didn’t speak, he didn’t move - he just stared past Miles, into the kitchen.

You and Miles glance at each other once more, both of you growing more concerned for your friend with every passing moment. Miles looked at Peter’s plate, then to you - giving you a small nod of approval to take the plate.

“Well, I’m just going to go ahead and put this up for you, Pete - and Miles can start dealing Uno cards, okay? Unless you want me to kick your ass in Scrabble.” You go to grab Peter’s plate, but his large left hand wraps around your wrist, causing you to drop the plate back onto the table loudly.

Miles looks up staring at the scene in front of him. He sees the terror in your eyes as Peter gripped your wrist.

You look at your best friend, still unmoved - not even looking at you. Your heart raced, confused by his actions. His grip tightened, gaining a wince from you as you try to pull away from him. He doesn’t budge. His arm doesn’t even move though you were using all of your strength to pull away.

“What the hell?” Miles speaks with his mouth full of food, looking as Peter’s knuckles grow white from holding your wrist so tightly. “Why are you holding her wrist like that?”

Peter smiles villainously, beginning to dig his nails into your flesh. “Aye, man - stop!” Miles yells, tossing his fork onto the table. “Why are you grabbing her like that?! It’s disrespectful. This isn’t you, Pete.”

Peter doesn’t budge, instead he slowly turns his head towards you - his dark eyes peering at you through his long lashes. Your heart drops seeing Peter this way. “Pete, you’re starting to really freak me out,” you whisper trying to pull your wrist from his firm grip again, but his fingernails begin to dig so hard it draws blood.

Miles stands, “Peter, I said sto-.”

Before Miles could finish his sentence a large black slime like material ripped out of Peter’s chest - slamming Miles into the refrigerator a few yards from where you stood. Vanishing just as quickly as it appeared.

“Oh my god,” you finally rip away from Peter, falling onto the floor as he stood up from the chair he had been sitting in. Peter looked down at you, smirking villainously as he started to speak, his tone sarcastic, “So sorry, I’m just not myself right now.”

“What happened to you, Peter? What’s going on with you?” You ask as tears began to form in your eyes - trying to blink them away and keep your vision on him. Everything was happening so fast it was hard to wrap your brain around what was going on. Your eyes quickly dart over to Miles, seeing him knocked out from whatever that was that just came out of Peter’s chest. Your refrigerator was completely demolished. “I think you really hurt him, Peter.” Your voice breaks.

“Oh, would you stop saying that fucking name,” Peter growls, rolling his eyes as he bends down towards you. “Peter isn’t really in charge right now.” He inhales sharply, eyes rolling in the back of his head as your aroma envelopes his senses, he moans, “I see why he’s friends with you. I can feel why he’s friends with you.”

“Wh - What?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows as you start to scoot away from him. He just smirks, watching you scoot towards where Miles laid - almost as if he were enjoying it, watching you struggle. Miles had begun to slip back into consciousness as you slowly shook him awake. “Are you okay, Miles? Please be okay - please, please.”

“I’m okay,” Miles groans, bracing himself on you in front of the demolished refrigerator. “Y/N, are you okay?” His palm gripped his chest as he took a deep inhale, so could tell he was really hurt. If it wasn’t for his powers Miles would probably be dead.

“You’ll heal, Miles,” you breathe, rubbing your thumb on his cheek, sitting in front of him. “It’s gonna be okay.” He nods, wincing as he sat up fully. You felt helpless - a feeling you hated.

Peter gasps loudly, breathing heavily as the two of you turn towards him. You back yourself against the demolished fridge beside Miles.

“What’s wrong?” Peter said, his voice laced with concern and he breathed heavily, seeing that he was in your apartment. “What’s happened? I - I don’t remember anything. When did I get here? What’s going on?” You both stare at him, confused beyond belief at his change in personality. Peter’s doe eyes were filled with tears as he looked at the damage around him. “Something happened last night and I don’t know how to explain it. I haven’t been myself very much since. I - I - Something is happening to me. Please - It’s inside of me. Something is -.”

Peter screams loudly, grabbing his chest as the black slime seemed to ripple out of him before snapping quickly back inside. He stands straight, his dark eyes hone in on you as you wrap your arm around Miles’ bicep - clinging to him as he straightened up more, slowly healing from his injuries.

“What the fuck..” you whisper to yourself as you watch tears fall down Peter’s cheeks, villainously smiling again as he stalked towards you. You grip Miles’ arm tighter as he scooted you into him, trying to protect you even though he was in so much pain from being thrown.

Peter tsks as he approaches the two of you on the ground. “Oh, I understand now. He thinks of you as a brother,” he points to Miles and then you. “And you?” Peter licks his lips slowly as he knelt down towards you, black goo caressing your face and unknown to you, beginning to wrap around your ankles. He looks at you as if you were a piece of cake - gawking at you.

He winced loudly, grimacing before snapping back - his sweet eyes look at you and Miles through tears. Peter’s shaky hand raised to point at the door. His breath was labored as he whispered, “Run.”

Miles gets up with ease - yelling at you to, “Get the hell up!” as he runs. But you couldn’t move. You look down, seeing a black fleshy substance wrapped around your ankles and now your wrists as you sat on the ground. “I can’t,” you cried out.

He tried to help you, turning to run back towards you - but whatever was inside of Peter pushed Miles out of your apartment, shutting the door and locking it before slinking back inside of Peter. Still in front of you, trapping you - Peter smiles, he scans your body before snapping up to your gaze. “I can still feel his thoughts and his memories for now. I feel how he feels when he looks at you. And my god, does he feel for you.”

Slowly, the thing inside of Peter pulls your wrist towards him - putting it on his chest as more of the black substance wrapped around your hand, running up the length of your arm. “He can feel everything that I do. Part of me is part of his reaction. I think he wants you just as badly as I do.”

Your eyes were wide as you shook your head, “No - Peter and I - we.. we’re friends - best friends.” He shook his head, smiling widely at you as the black substance wraps further up you, around your throat and into your hair, the sensation sent chills up your spine. “He doesn’t like me like that. Just - just let me go.”

You knew how you felt about Peter Parker - your best friend since sophomore year of college. He was the guy you’ve had a secret crush on for years, but respected him and your friendship too much to say anything.

Miles banged on the door - yelling, “I’ve called the cops! They will be here in fifteen minutes! I’m going to try to break in, Y/N!”

“Fifteen minutes is more than enough time,” Peter growls, lifting you off the ground, still wrapped in the thick black bands of goo. “What are you doing? Let me down!”

Carrying you he enters your bedroom, shutting the door behind him. His grip is firm as he lowers you onto the bed. “Peter, please!”

As he steps away from you, Peter snaps back to normal, beginning to sob at he looked at you on the bed “I can’t stop whatever this is. Please - help me. I’m so scared. It took over my suit - I - I’m - ,” Peter lets out a blood-curdling scream as the foreign thing in his body rippled under his skin. He gasps before standing straight up, the darkness of his eyes pierced yours.

“You’re stronger than this, Pete,” you whisper, slinking off of the bed and stepping towards your window. “Please, you aren’t being yourself. You’re scaring me.”

He is quite as his head slowly cocks to the side. “What do you think it will feel like once I fuck you?” Peter’s raspy voice whispered, licking his lips again as the black mass started to show from his body in a tentacle like fashion. You’re terrified, back hitting the wall as you realize it’s you versus a literal superhero - the odds were not in your favor.

A black tentacle zooms across the room, constricting around your neck and bringing you towards Peter as other black lines wrap around your waist.

Now face to face, Peter’s hands wrap into your hair - pulling you close. He smiles, almost looking like himself as you locked eyes with him. “Peter, please - don’t -.”

Two black masses rip apart the sweatshirt you wore, revealing a tight fitting camisole underneath. Peter growled at the sight of your chest pressed up against him. You could feel the erection in his pants growing larger as you gulp, wondering if after all this time that this was how you and Peter would get together. Please, no. Not this way.

Peter’s hand trailed down your chest, going to pull down your pants while the black substance coming from his body held you up - slowly wrapping around your extremities. “You look good like this,” he growled. “I bet you feel as good as you look.”

His hand trails over the elastic holding your pants up, tracing lines to tease you as his finger hooked underneath, beginning to slide them off. A crash comes from your window, both of you turn towards it to see Miles - clad in his Spiderman suit. You could see the rage in his eyes. He screams loudly seeing whatever was inside of Peter had started to do with you, “Fucking let her go, now!” Miles hisses. He was just as protective of you as you are of him.

Miles rushes Peter, shooting webs at him trying to knock him away from you without injuring either of you. “I don’t know who or what you are, but you need to get the hell out of my friend and off of my other before I whoop your ass,” he growls.

“Promise?” Peter sneers as Miles lands a kick to Peter’s smiling face - he was enjoying it. “Do it again.”

Shooting another web that wraps around your wrist, Miles struggles to pull you from Peter’s grip. Whatever it was had wrapped around you, completely restricting you and holding you to Peter.

“Let her go, now!” Miles yells, landing a firm punch to Peter��s jaw, causing him to finally release you as he pounced on Miles. You fall to the ground, scattering to a corner of your room, trying to get a better grip on the situation. Peter was attacking Miles violently, throwing punches and holding him down as he pummeled him.

“Stop!” You scream through sobs, feeling more helpless than before. You had to do something.

Miles and Peter’s strengths were normally the same, but Peter was much stronger with this thing inside of him. He was even more calculated, his spider senses were even more intense than before - and that was a major problem.

Blood had started to splatter on your bedroom’s wall, painting them red with Miles’ blood. You realized what you had to do.

You stood, clearing your throat. “Hey, Pete!” Peter’s head snapped towards you. Miles looked over at you, his face bloodied. He started to shake his head seeing the determined look in your eyes, he knew that look - the look you get when you need to get shit done. His thoughts raced thinking of what in the world you were about to do.

“Take me,” you whisper as tears start to roll down your cheeks, though your face remained stoic. Miles whispers “No, Y/N.” As he tried to stop you, realizing what you had decided to do. “Not this, Y/N. Don’t do this - we can figure this out. The cops will be here any minute now,” he whispers from across the room as a black tentacle held him on the ground by the throat. “Y/N, please. You don’t have any special powers - and Peter is not himself. He will kill you.”

“I told your parents that I will protect you always, Miles. I can’t let them down. I can’t - I can’t. It’s my job to protect you. I’ve got to protect you,” you whisper, shaking your head as you start to sob. “Remember? I’m your big sister now and forever - I love you, Miles. It’s going to be okay.”

Miles cries out as he lays on the carpet of your bedroom, Peter’s grip still tight on his throat. “Y/N, please. Don’t be a hero. Please. We can figure this out. We can-.”

“No, Miles. I have to do this. I hope you can understand,” you look back to Peter. “Don’t hurt him anymore. Just take me, please. Leave him alone.”

Peter started to stand, approaching you slowly as a black version of his Spider-suit started to wrap around his body. “Please, Y/N - I’m not a kid anymore. I can help,” Miles watches Peter begin to stalk you again, the black mass still choking Miles as it held him to the carpet.

You gulp, gripping your hands together in fists trying to stop shaking from fear. “I’m the one you want, right? So, take me,” you whispered staring Peter straight in the eyes and gritting your teeth. “Gladly,” Peter hissed as Miles cries out for you, trying to pull himself up from the ground - fighting as hard as he could to get to you, “Peter - please don’t do this! It’s Y/N!”

Before he could reach you Peter had pounced on you, wrapping the darkness around you and throwing the two of you out of the window. Miles lets out an exhausted scream realizing he wasn’t quick enough to catch up with Peter. As he looks through the streets he sees Peter disappear with you into the night, swinging through the city as blue lights start to bounce off of the brick apartments around yours.

Miles turns and looks at the chaos around him, wishing that all of this was just a bad dream. Whatever was inside of Peter had you, and Miles knew it was up to him now to save both of you.

Hopefully it wouldn’t be too late.

Tag List: @rose-writes-shit @xuxialling @itwasallinmyhead1 @mypalbuck @angelcritterz @levylovegood @gwenebear @saltedcoffeescotch @thelittlebirdwriter @mbjackie @kiwi5335 @nikkitc0703 @laurathefahrradsattel

Special tag for my beautiful pal, V @agnesamarantheastwood

A/N: this will be a mini series!! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged my angels. - Cait <333

NAVIGATION Symbiote Navigation

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cherienymphe · 2 years ago

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Basic Training Masterlist (Peter Parker x Reader)

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.

➥ Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, violence, kidnapping, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, housewife kink, cop!Peter

III

VII

VIII

XII

XIII

XIV

XVI

XVII

XVIII

XIX

XXI

XXII

XXIII

XXIV

➯ dividers by @straywords

➥ Peter’s POV (after Ch. 11)

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #marvel fanfiction #dark fic #dark peter parker

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 8 months ago

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Marriage Proposal

Pairing: Dark Peter Parker x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: You should’ve broken up with Peter long ago. Now you deal with the consequences.

WARNINGS: --

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

–

You reluctantly look up from your plate at the feeling of a hand covering your own, the warmth irradiating from the firm palm making you itchy to remove the hand, but you let it be.

"Happy anniversary, babe.” Peter smiles at you, so genuine and loving, and you force your lips to stretch into a pleasant smile.

“I can’t believe we’ve been together for a year now. I feel like we’ve only met yesterday but here we are.” he says with a chuckle.

“It’s as if time flies away when you’re in love, right?”

You weakly nod, opting to bring the wine glass to your lips to give you an excuse to avert eyes. But that doesn’t stop the turmoil of emotions that devastates you inside, the guilt eating you away.

You’re a horrible girlfriend. And a coward one too. One that keeps prolonging and dragging time, too timid to break-up.

Not tonight, you decide, delaying the confrontation furthermore. Peter is so happy and you’d hate to break his heart on such an occasion.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

“This place is really gorgeous, I love it.” you say, allowing your eyes to wander around the restaurant.

The place is indeed pretty. Elegant but at the same time, private and personal. It suits Peter.

Tension accompanies throughout the entire dinner as you play the girlfriend role dutifully, pretending to laugh at Peter’s jokes and smiling at him.

A part of you feels so bad for it, there used to be a time where you actually loved Peter.

You still like and respect him, he’s a great guy, unlike many men. But you’re no longer the same person that you were when you meet him.

And Peter…

He’s the one that took a 180º change. Deep inside, he probably means well, intending to protect you but that isn’t enough to make you stay.

Not if you want to have a toxic-free life. A life without having to answer a full interrogation when you plan to hang out with friends.

A life without having to call and text your boyfriend about what you’re doing, otherwise he’ll most likely show up at your workplace, face pinched with worry because you failed to contact him.

You’re so caught up by your thoughts that you wince, surprised when people start clapping and cheering, everyone’s attention fully on your table.

When you confusedly look for Peter, your whole world drops.

The world seems to stop when you look to your side as Peter gets down on one knee, a jittery smile curling his lips.

Your face drops in horror, mind frozen and unable to think.

“Peter…”

“I know, I know.” he brushes you off, joy irradiating from him, “Just let me say this first, yeah? I’m so nervous.”

Your mouth opens and closes a few times and you blink, unable to fully comprehend what’s going on. This can’t be true…

This has to be a prank, there’s no way that Peter is actually proposing to you. But your doubts are swiftly cleared as a small and elegant velvet box appears in the scene.

No…

Peter clears out his throat with a small noise before looking at you, and you realize how nervous he actually is, a light layer of sweat in his forehead.

“I had this whole speech ready, you know. Been preparing it for weeks now.” he confesses after a long moment, shaking his head.

“Tony helped me write it. Lots of fancy poetic words and-and I completely forgot all of it.”

“But what I really wanna say is that I love you, Y/N.” Peter declares, his voice gaining determination, “From the moment I saw you, I knew that you were the one for me. I was lucky enough that you gave me a chance to prove to you how much I care for you…”

Your heart tightens at those words and you clutch the table’s fabric, feeling yourself helpless.

“... and this past year has been amazing. The best year of my life. All because of you.” Peter smiles tenderly at you, his hands working on opening the velvet box and you feel yourself tensing up when a delicate silver ring comes into sight.

“So…Y/N L/N, will you give me the honor of being your husband?”

And just like that, you faintly nod, not trusting your voice to speak. Peter beams at you and you do your best to retribute, despite the numbness that strikes you like a bullet.

The restaurant explodes in a loud applause and Peter wastes no time in pushing the pretty ring on your hand, engulfing you in a tight hug.

“I love you so much.” he feverously kisses your head.

You push your face against his chest, hoping to hide the tears that burn in your eyes as you start regretting saying yes already.

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere avengers #yandere marvel #yandere peter parker #dark marvel #dark peter parker #dark peter parker x reader #yandere peter parker x reader #dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader #yandere!peter parker #yandere!peter parker x reader #tw: yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #tw: toxic relationships

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yichuuonvenus · 9 months ago

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The Willow Maid

Dark!Peter Parker x Reader

~Description~

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.

His final thought was only of you.

At least his body would remain close to you.

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #dark!peter parker x reader #dark!peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you

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queenoftheworldisdead · 1 month ago

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Non-compete

Chapter 2

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used. Let me know if i fucked up and not do that. Chat me up i don't bite!

Warning: Slow Burn, Adult content only! 18+ only please. Dark! There is potentially triggering stories ahead.

Peter Parker x Reader, (not in this chapter Norman Osborn x Reader,)

💻

You stand outside your sister’s closed door, the hallway quiet except for the faint ticking of a wall clock. You should be getting ready for work by now, but something about the heavy silence from her room keeps you planted here.

“Sparks…” You knock lightly, keeping your voice low. Nothing. She’s been holed up in there since the interview—another day of avoidance, of heavy quiet. If it weren’t for the food disappearing from the fridge, you’d be more concerned. You lean in closer, resting your hand against the door. “Please, just open up. I’ll bring home that cake you like from work if you let me in.”

The silence stretches until, finally, you hear the faint shuffle of movement inside. A mix of relief and tension settles in your chest as you wait. You have no idea what mood she’ll be in when she opens the door.

When it does crack open, she’s standing there, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. The sight pulls at something deep in you, but you keep your voice steady. “You didn’t hear back yet, did you? Don’t worry, that’s just how these things go sometimes.”

Her eyes narrow, and her voice sharpens. “I didn’t apply for some dead-end job at a grocery store. He came to me, remember?” Her words feel heavier than they should, like each one is designed to cut.

You inhale slowly, absorbing the sting. She’s said things like this before, made you feel small in ways she probably doesn’t even notice.

“I know Spar—"

“Do you?” she interrupts, her voice edged with frustration. She crosses her arms, her annoyance palpable. “Do you even know who that was?”

You shake your head slightly, bracing for the answer.

“Norman Osborn, Mr. Oscorp himself, as in the founder.," she emphasizes. "The man' whose 's name is on the building,” she snaps, almost daring you to understand.

You open your mouth to speak, but a soft knock from down the hall interrupts your thought.

“Did you hear that?” you ask finally.

“It’s probably someone for dad. Forget about it.”

Maybe she’s right. But your curiosity lingers. “I should get ready for work,” you say, glancing back at her. “I’ll text you later. Just… don’t ignore me, alright? I’ll bring you that cake, and Dino nuggets too.”

She doesn’t respond, just turns away and shuts the door behind her. The sound of it echoes faintly as you make your way down the stairs.

💻

The knock comes softly at first, but the sound echoes through the quiet house, pulling you from your thoughts. No one visits anymore. Your friends? They’ve drifted away, consumed by their own lives, their own problems. You hope it isn’t your father again—you don’t have the energy for another conversation about changing the locks. Love for him only stretches so far when there’s no money left to stretch.

You rest your hand on the doorframe, peering through the glass. A boy stands on the porch—young, maybe Emily’s age—shifting nervously, his hands deep in his pockets. His unease is obvious, as if he's not sure this is the right place.

"Uh, hello? Is Emily home?" His voice is thin, unsure. The question takes you off guard. No one ever came for Emily. She was solitary, always detached from the world around her. Friends were for other people. Not her.

A flicker of curiosity rises. Has she made a friend? Or… something more? No. That’s not Emily. She tells you everything—or so you believed.

“She didn’t mention having anyone over,” you reply, a hint of suspicion in your voice as you push the door open wider. You can’t help but wonder how this boy knows her.

“You must be Emily’s mother.” He guesses to your horror.

The statement hits you like a cold splash of water, and you blink at him, taken aback. Mother? Have you aged that much? The grays, yes, they’ve crept in early, but surely you’ve kept them at bay with the dye.

“Her sister,” you correct, deflated. “Come in.”

His face turns a shade of red, and he stumbles over an apology. “Oh—sorry, I didn’t mean—I mean, you’re beautiful, not to say your mother isn’t—”

A small laugh escapes you despite yourself. It’s sweet, the way he flounders. “It’s alright. Our mom passed away. I’ve just taken on the role since then.” You catch the brief flash of discomfort in his expression as you step aside to let him in. “Would you like something? Water, maybe? Juice?”

You notice it out of the corner of your eye as you close the door—a sleek black sports car parked just outside. You pause for a moment, a small crease forming between your brows. That can’t be his. Someone’s lost, surely. It doesn’t belong here.

“No, thank you… ma’am,” he blurts, his voice cracking slightly as his eyes widen, realizing the slip. “Oh no—I didn’t mean to say that! I mean, not ma’am—sorry!”

You wave it off with a slight smile. “It’s fine. Really.”

His gaze shifts, landing on the scorched wall of the hallway, the burn marks visible even from where he stands. He hesitates before asking, “What happened here?”

You follow his gaze and sigh, embarrassment tugging at your chest. The charred section of wall—remnants of Emily’s endless ‘experiments.’ You’d meant to have it repaired, but life kept getting in the way.

“An electrical fire… sort of,” you mutter, a sheepish laugh slipping through. “Emily thought she could rig up some free electricity. She's always tinkering with things. I told her if she didn't want to live on the streets, she'd leave the car alone.”

He chuckles softly, his eyes still wandering through the room, though you can’t help but feel the weight of your untidy kitchen creeping into your thoughts. Emily never did the dishes, and the trash… well, that was still waiting to be taken out.

You clear your throat and call down the hallway, “Emily!” The shout is louder than you intended, startling him. But of course, she doesn’t answer. She never does.

“I’ll go get her,” you say quickly, stepping back toward the hallway. “Oh, wait—what’s your name again?”

“Peter. Peter Parker.”

#dark peter Parker x reader #dark peter parker #dark!peter parker x black reader #Dark Peter Parker x Black Reader #Dark Peter Parker x WOC reader #dark!peter parker x woc reader #dark!peter parker x reader

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lillyrob · 2 months ago

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Actual footage of me patently waiting for my favorite author to upload😫😫😫

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cherienymphe · 1 year ago

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Basic Training XVI (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, mentions of MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ 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.

You knelt beside Peter with your hands in your lap, staring down at them as the conversation flowed around you. While you’d never had much to contribute to the conversation before, you still felt awful about being purposely excluded. Even more so because your humiliation was on full display for the whole house to see.

“It’s disappointing to see another empty chair at the table.”

Steve’s voice wasn’t very loud amongst the other low conversations, but it carried, nonetheless. You didn’t need to look up to know that his gaze was on you. You could feel it. It was then that you felt a gentle touch on the top of your head, fingers trailing down to rest just under your chin.

“Yeah,” you heard Peter sigh. “…but she knows what she’s being punished for.”

You did.

The night you told Peter that Nat had mentioned a pregnancy scare, he hadn’t said much to you for the rest of the evening. You could count the number of times Peter had been really mad with you, and his visible anger hadn’t done much for your sleep. You hadn’t been able to deny the pang in your chest when he laid down for bed without sparing you a glance.

You had almost wished you could take it back.

…but if it would prevent Nat from being on the end of whatever punishment Bucky saw fit for her, then you would accept however Peter retaliated. You weren’t being tied to some tree nor walking around with some collar on your neck, but it was no less embarrassing to sit at Peter’s feet on your knees while the rest of the household ate dinner.

Occasionally, Peter’s hand would come down to give you something to eat, and with starving as the only other option, you had no choice but to open your mouth and accept.

“I’m very disappointed in you,” he’d said just hours earlier, gazing at you with a small shake of his head. “…and to think this is something you knew before she even left. What if she was pregnant and has lost the baby? Do you have any idea what that will do to Bucky?”

You hadn’t had the heart nor courage to tell Peter that you didn’t care about Bucky. You didn’t care about him, at all. Your priority had been Nat and keeping quiet on something she herself hadn’t even known what to do with. That was then though, and while your first priority was still Nat, now you only wanted her out of harm’s way in whatever way you could achieve that. Even if it meant disappointing Peter and making Bucky aware of her possible delicate condition.

You knew that with Steve over his shoulder, Bucky was liable to do unspeakable harm to Nat. It didn’t matter that he’d grown up with her and therefore shared a deeper history than any other couple in the house. In fact, you’d wager that those circumstances only made him angrier, made him feel more betrayed. You didn’t count on Bucky being fair, on the punishment fitting the crime. The dark-haired man was angry and hurt—something you’d never understand—and he seemed the type to take it out on her.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sight of a fork in front of your face, and lock clockwork, you leaned in to eat what Peter offered. Your embarrassment lessened as you thought of the humiliating things the other wives probably had to go through. One incident stood out amongst the rest, and as you glanced up, your eyes met a familiar brown pair. She threw you a brief sympathetic look, something in her eyes telling you that it was okay, and you looked back down.

You tried to remind yourself that if your husband had been literally anyone else, you’d be dealing with far worse. Even Thor—who seemed a gentle giant most times—had forced Jane to hang the clothes to dry while completely naked once. At least, that was what Jane had said, and despite how long ago it was, you’d been able to see that she was still hurt about it. You wondered if that contributed to how “well behaved” she was for the blond. You wondered if she just didn’t want to experience that hurt again, and that was something you could understand.

When dinner was over, instead of following behind the rest of the men, Peter remained seated. You could feel his gaze on you, and you kept your own on your lap as you heard him stand. He stood there for what felt like a long time while the other women cleared the table. When the both of you were alone again, he quietly told you to stand and follow him.

Peter hadn’t said all that much to you since that day, and you didn’t know what you were walking into.

You kept your gaze on the back of his head while you followed him, tracing the brown strands with your eyes. There was a part of you that could acknowledge Peter’s disappointment, even understand the twisted logic in some sick way, but another part of you didn’t feel bad, at all. Whether or not Nat was pregnant was not something Peter needed to know. It simply wasn’t for him to know. It hadn’t even been for you to know until Nat decided it so, and it equally hadn’t been for you to tell.

…and you weren’t…until Steve and Bucky were itching to hurt her in ways she just didn’t deserve.

Even now, you wondered if you did the right thing. Only time would really tell, but you felt so…helpless. That night, you’d felt helpless, but it was a different kind of helpless. It was a helplessness that came about of your own accord. You could have very well told Peter you saw her. You could have even ran downstairs yourself to go after her, but you hadn’t. You’d remained quiet, and the opportunity to do anything to help or hinder the situation had passed you by.

You had left the fate of everyone in the house—including you—in her hands. Your future had depended on whether or not Nat was caught or not, both yours and Peters. You felt like something of a coward to leave that in Nat’s hands. Although, you guessed that your decision had been made when you simply…let her go.

You were frowning when Peter spoke to you again.

“You do understand why you’re being punished…don’t you…?”

You licked your lips, starting to nod before thinking better of it, remembering that Peter preferred you use your voice.

“Yes,” you told him.

“Tell me,” Peter urged, sitting down on the bed.

Your eyes met his, and like they had been for days, they gleamed with a mixture of confusion and disappointment.

“It’s important that Bucky knows everything pertaining to Nat’s health…and I helped her hide that from him.”

You repeated the words he’d said to you even though you didn’t quite believe them yourself.

Peter reached for you with a small sigh, and you slowly reached for his hand in return, moving closer. When his fingers threaded with yours, he pulled you to stand in between his knees, taking your other hand too. He looked at you with a look you couldn’t name, pink lips pressed together as he studied your face.

“If you were pregnant…surely you’d understand why I’d need to know that,” he continued before you could say anything. “Even if you just thought you were pregnant…that’s important, Y/N.”

“I know,” you whispered.

“Now…now I have to find a way to bring this up to him. I did make a promise, after all,” he said to you, reminding you of your plea not to tell Bucky you told him.

Peter pulled on your hands, forcing you to sit in his lap. One of his hands came to rest on your waist, and you held his gaze as he kneaded his hand into your side.

“…and you wouldn’t want me to break my promise…would you?”

Peter tilted his head at that, and you shakily shook your head.

If Bucky knew you knew…you shuddered to think of what would happen. Peter reached up to cup your face, gently brushing his thumb over your skin. It disgusted you to think that not even thirty minutes ago, he had you kneeling at his side and eating whatever he fed you like a dog…and now… Now, you were sitting in his lap, reaching up to cover his own hand as it rested on your face.

Was this how any of the others felt?

Did Margaret feel that conflicted mix of anger and sadness and admiration whenever she gazed at Steve? Did she remember the ways in which he’d humiliate her as he kissed her? Did Pepper think of Tony leading her around the house like a pet when he smiled at her? You wondered what Laura thought about when Clint hugged her and if it was that time she was forced to keep him warm in her mouth at the dinner table?

“I was very proud of you tonight,” Peter eventually told you. “You were so well behaved and did exactly as I told you.”

Peter pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth, lingering there.

“Only four more days to go.”

You were outside in the garden when you first saw it.

Laura and Jane were planting some garlic with you when you saw Steve and Bucky talking and walking around the house. They were coming from the front yard, presumably from work seeing as they were still in their uniforms, and Steve had it in his hand. A whip—long and braided and dark brown. By the looks of it, you could tell it was real leather, and even in Steve’s grasp, it looked big…and torturous.

The sight of it made your stomach turn, and you had the brief thought that you were going to be sick…until you actually were sick.

“Oh my God!”

Both Laura and Jane’s voices caught their attention, and the poor garlic bulbs you’d had every intention of planting were suddenly covered in what you ate that morning. Your legs were unsteady as both women hurried to pull you to your feet. Both men were nearing you, something crossing their faces that looked oddly like concern.

It was strange.

You’d seen something like that on Bucky’s face before, notably that night when you ran into him outside the basement door. There was a hurt and crestfallen look there that told you as mad as he was at Nat, something in him hated the idea of punishing her more. Steve, however… You had never seen anything remotely resembling unease before, and it was then that you were reminded of something Peter had said to you once.

“You’re family, Y/N,” Peter had whispered one night. “Steve may be hard on you, and it may seem like he’s out to get you, but he just wants you to fall in line and be part of the family.”

Laura was wiping your mouth with a napkin she kept in her apron.

“Are you alright? Did you eat something bad?”

No.

You didn’t know how to tell her that the sight of that whip in Steve’s hand—the whip that was still in Steve’s hand—had disturbed you so badly you couldn’t even keep your food down. You could feel pressure behind your eyes, a burning sensation, and you wanted to scream. On top of throwing up on yourself like some child, you were now on the verge of crying too.

“Y/N…”

You weren’t on the verge of anything. You were crying…and badly too. You couldn’t stop shaking, covering your face with your hands as you fought to keep standing. Laura’s hands were on you as she guided you into the house, and your knees buckled. You would have collapsed if it weren’t for familiar arms catching you, and you clung to him instantly.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me, Y/N,” he softly urged, one hand on your head and the other on the small of your back. “What happened?”

He was addressing someone else, now, and you didn’t hear what they told him. You only shook your head, unable to get the words out. You wanted to be sick again, and you pressed a hand to your mouth. Peter took that as a sign, hurrying to get you up the stairs.

He softly called your name again as soon as you made it into the room, and you finally did collapse.

“Is that what he’s going to do to her?” you asked him, tearfully looking up at Peter as he looked down at you in confusion. “Whip her?”

Realization bled into Peter’s eyes, and you watched his shoulders fall.

“Like…like some animal that needs to be broken into submission? …and for what? Because she ran?”

You swallowed down something else that threatened to come up, and Peter knelt down with you. You were fighting to keep it together, but your chest felt so tight, and your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The mere thought of Nat being on the other end of that almost made you sick again, and the room spun just a bit.

“Woah, woah, hey,” Peter cooed, wrapping his arms around you and leaning you back into him.

You descended into another fit of sobs, turning your face into Peter’s shoulder, and he rocked you. You reached up to grip the arm around your chest, holding onto him. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right, but what else could you possibly say that would stop this?

“Did you talk to Bucky…?” you finally choked out.

You both felt and heard Peter sigh.

“Not yet,” he murmured. “Look…Y/N…”

Peter paused, rubbing your arm and resting his chin on the top of your head.

“I know you want to protect Nat…want to stop this from happening to her, but she did a bad thing.”

You started to shake your head, but Peter continued.

“She has to be punished, made an example of. Hell…we still need to figure out how she escaped.”

Those words gave you pause, and you swallowed.

“She won’t say a thing about how she got out of the house with any of us none the wiser. How she snuck past all of us, Bucky especially,” he murmured, more to himself than you. “She could do it again. Any of you could try to imitate her…and we can’t have that.”

Peter pulled away a bit, looking at you as you looked at him.

“I would lose my mind if you escaped,” he told you. “…and I mean that.”

He took your face into his hands.

“You don’t understand what you mean to me…all I’ve done to keep you by my side,” he gently said. “All I would do to have you again if you ever did what she did.”

You believed him.

You didn’t doubt him for a moment, and that in itself didn’t scare you. It was the fact that you didn’t see yourself ever doing what Nat did, never even trying, and that thought was equally imprisoning as it was freeing.

You stared into the darkness with your arms wrapped around your knees. The stair beneath your bottom didn’t even feel that hard to you anymore, long growing numb to the feel. It was so hard to sleep lately, so tonight you’d just given up. Even with Peter at your side, you hadn’t been able to find lethargic bliss, too plagued with thoughts of Nat.

The memory of that whip in Steve’s hand made you grow so cold, like something was being sucked out of you. You had imagined the worst for her, but actually seeing it was another thing entirely. As much as Bucky scared you, you couldn’t really picture him doing that to her. Even for him, it seemed wrong, but then again, it was hard to tell what Bucky was actually feeling and what he wanted.

He kidnapped the girl he grew up with and he was the one to feel betrayed when she ran.

You wondered if a day would come where you’d sleep soundly again. Maybe when you knew for sure that Nat was going to be okay? You wondered if you’d even fret this much if you hadn’t seen her that night. You liked to think that you would, but you couldn’t deny that your guilt and fear over the whole situation played a huge part.

Rubbing your forehead, you pushed yourself to your feet.

When you turned around, the imposing figure at the top of the stairs almost made you fall back. You let out a gasp, taking a stumbling step back and almost falling in the process. The sound of your heartbeat was loud in your ear, and even before he turned the light on, you knew who it was.

Steve was as scary as he always was, but even more so now with the memory of him holding the whip that was most likely intended for Nat. It was crazy to think that even in the middle of the night, a time of day that should be for the most relaxed version of oneself, he still looked like a strict leader just itching to hand out a punishment.

“You should be in bed.”

You swallowed as he looked down his nose at you, lips trembling.

“I…I couldn’t sleep. I have trouble sleeping, sometimes,” you forced out, truthful.

The blond didn’t reply right away at that, simply raising an eyebrow at you as he studied you.

“Is that so…”

It came out more like a statement than a question, and you frowned.

“Since when?” he wondered, and you realized this was probably the longest you’d ever talked to Steve and definitely one on one.

“Since…since I got here, I guess,” you whispered with a frown.

He sniffed, looking past you for a few moments before meeting your eyes again. They narrowed at you, and for the life of you, you couldn’t place the look in them.

“You spend most of your nights awake? Sitting on the stairs? Hmm?”

“No,” you hurried to say. “No, this is a first. I guess I didn’t want to wake up Peter.”

There was a brief pause, and the silence was so loud.

“Is that okay…?”

You tried to keep your voice even, but you supposed you couldn’t cover the mocking tone well. It was hard to keep up with what was allowed with Steve, and it wasn’t like the other night when you were trying to bring Nat some food. You’d just been sitting on the stairs. What rule was there against that?

Steve stared at you for what felt like a long time before suddenly throwing you a tense smile. It looked fake, plastic even.

“Of course,” he almost sang as if it were obvious. “You’re family, now, and this is your house too.”

His tone, like yours had been, sounded almost mocking, and you didn’t like it. Unable to continue engaging in conversation with the blond without wanting to hurl, you moved to make your way back to your room. Steve’s gaze remained on you the entire time, and it was only when you were past him did he speak again.

“I never realized what a night owl you were…”

You slowed to a pause, looking over your shoulder at him, but his back was still to you as he stared ahead.

“You probably see all sorts of things from your perch.”

Your chest grew tight at that, and you stumbled back to your room without another response.

Peter seemed to reach for you on autopilot, pulling you into his arms and holding you close even in his sleep. You held onto him too, tears kissing your eyes as you forced your heart to stop racing. You pressed your face into his chest, thoughts going a mile a minute.

You hadn’t liked Steve’s words nor his tone, and you wondered…

Did he know? He couldn’t know, but his dubious tone and hidden meanings in his words couldn’t mean anything else. Unless he only suspected, and even then, that did little to reassure you. You weren’t good with lies, poker faces. As it were, it was taking everything in you to keep lying to Peter, and the way you felt about Peter was nothing at all how you felt about Steve.

It was taking all you had to lie to the man whose face you looked forward to seeing every day. You couldn’t even pretend to imagine you’d be good at lying to Steve. The thought made you sit up some, gazing at Peter’s face as he slept. You thought about your conversation earlier and what he’d done for you, the feeling in your chest when he told you he’d talked to Bucky.

“I just mentioned to him he might want to have Bruce come and look over her first before…”

He had trailed off after answering you when you asked him what he told him, quieting at the look on your face at the reminder of what was in store for her.

“They’ve been trying, you know, and I just reminded Bucky that he’d never forgive himself if he did anything that could take away something he didn’t even know he had.”

Your worry hadn’t disappeared completely, but it had definitely lessened, causing you to hug Peter. He had hugged you back, but you’d been more concerned with pressing kisses to his face. Even if Nat turned out to not be pregnant, it would put off her punishment for a bit at the least.

Sometimes you wondered why Peter did anything for you. You supposed it was equally for his benefit, to make you more susceptible to him, and you couldn’t deny that there was merit to it. Did it really matter the reasons behind anything he did to make you happy? As long as it made you happy, right…?

You leaned over, pressing your lips to his cheek, silently thanking him. You grazed your fingers over his own, listening to the sound of his breathing, and you kissed his cheek again before sliding out of bed. You moved to stand at the window, feeling very reminiscent of that night as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

You knew that you needed to get up early, and that you’d probably regret having such a late night in the morning, but you saw no value in trying to force something that would not come. Like the night Nat ran, you stared out of the window, looking over the yard...

…and just like that night, movement caught your eye.

The figure was unmistakable, his hands on his hips as he stood in the backyard, gazing around. You didn’t know why he was out there, especially at this time of night, and you frowned as you watched him. The sight of Steve would always serve to do the opposite of calming you down, so you were just about to turn away when he suddenly turned instead. Steve’s eyes met yours from so far below, and you could tell by the look on his face that he could see you.

You could also tell by the look on his face…that this did not surprise him.

His expression was even as he stared up at you, and you blinked, a slow frown forming between your brows. You didn’t understand why he was out there nor why he was preoccupied with looking up at your window, but the longer he stared, the more he seemed to find whatever he was looking for, frowning at you before you made the choice to turn away completely.

The next morning was as normal as any other.

For some reason, you hadn’t expected that. It had taken you forever to fall asleep, doubly so when coupled with the memory of Steve staring you down both on the stairs and through the window. You helped Margaret make Egg’s Benedict before getting started on a key lime pie she wanted to have ready by dinnertime. She brought little Sarah around for a bit, something you were grateful for.

“I know what they think,” she whispered as you shook the girl’s hand playfully. “What they say…”

You glanced up at her at that, and she sent you a sad smile.

“You would never hurt any of them,” she assured you. “You just need more time to adjust, that’s all.”

Knowing that Margaret trusted you around her child despite what Steve thought made your chest feel warm, and you thanked her. You often wondered about your own future child, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t worry for them. After all, if Steve and the others were worried about you around the other children, what could you possibly expect with your own?

You helped Christine in the garden, feeling much better than the other day. You felt that had more to do with the lack of a whip in your line of sight than anything. Peter was gone most of the day, at work, and when he finally returned home, it was almost time for dinner.

“What were you two planting? You smell wonderful,” Peter mused, watching you as you helped him undress.

“Sweet Pea,” you replied, unhooking his belt. “Pepper wanted some on the side of the house.”

You felt Peter press his face to your hair, deeply inhaling with a hum that fell over you like a warm blanket. When Peter kissed you, you were unsurprised when it didn’t remain just that, allowing him to pull you into the bathtub with him. Much wasn’t said between you, more preoccupied with the feel of his lips on yours and his hands on your waist.

It was a wonder neither of you were late to the dinner table.

Despite your interactions with Steve the previous night, dinner remained unproblematic. In fact, the blond was much more concerned with his wife whose forehead he kept touching. Truthfully, you didn’t quite know what you’d expected. Perhaps your disastrous birthday was still fresh in your mind, no stranger to Steve’s lack of reluctance to cause a scene.

You left dinner without a care, and you managed to go to bed without a care.

It was late in the night, however, when the horror you expected finally arrived.

It was the sound of yelling that disturbed you, the height of sound something you’d only heard the morning Nat went missing. You remained in bed in confusion—and slight annoyance—as you blearily stared at the ceiling. Sleep was still just within reach, and despite the disturbance, you were determined to find it once again.

That wasn’t possible though.

“Let me talk to her!”

It was Peter’s voice, the sound of it making your eyes fly open. You slowly sat up, never knowing Peter for one to raise his voice under any circumstances. There were a lot of voices mingling together from below, and they all quickly drowned his out. You slowly blinked as you stared at the door…

…and an uneasy feeling started to stir deep in your gut.

It only just occurred to you that if he was downstairs, then he wasn’t asleep next to you. You reached over and slid your hand along his side of the bed. It was cool to the touch, telling you he’d been gone for quite some time, and your frown deepened. What was going on?

Just as you thought that, you heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and you stared at the door in dread. They were nearing your room, the sound of them echoing in the hallway, and for some reason, you expected Steve’s imposing frame to be on the other side of the door. It wasn’t, but you still felt no relief at the familiar sight of Peter.

You rubbed your eye as your gaze met his, the dark-haired man standing in the doorway.

“Peter…”

It was hard to pinpoint the look on his face, only that it was strained and pinched. You watched the way his jaw ticked, chest heaving slightly, and when your gaze lowered, it landed on his tightening grip on the doorknob. You said his name again, growing even more nervous the longer he didn’t speak.

“Peter.”

That wasn’t your voice.

Your lips parted at the sound of Steve’s stern voice coming from over Peter’s shoulder, and you guessed that he was somewhere in between the door and the stairs, somewhere in the hallway where you couldn’t see him. At the sound of the other man’s voice, Peter seemed to visibly tense. He stood there for a few more seconds before finally stepping into the room.

“Peter, what…?”

“It’s okay,” he whispered to you although you felt like it was absolutely not okay. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

He took your hand, threading your fingers together.

“I just…I need you to come downstairs.”

His voice was so low, and despite the confusion you felt as you gazed into his eyes, you allowed him to lead you out of bed. You surmised that Steve went back downstairs because he was nowhere to be found when you followed Peter into the hallway.

Every step of yours felt heavy, and you didn’t miss the tight hold Peter had on your hand as he gently pulled you downstairs. You had no inkling of where you were even going, but you were shocked to realize that he was leading you towards the den. However, the biggest shock of all was the sight that met you.

You faltered as your eyes roamed over every single one of the husbands.

“Peter…”

Your voice was barely a whisper, but you knew he heard you by the feel of his hand gently squeezing yours.

You didn’t understand what was going on, and as you looked around, you almost wished you hadn’t. None of them looked happy, and while that in itself wasn’t alarming, it was the degree of unhappiness that unsettled you. Your gaze briefly met Bucky’s, and you suspected that if looks could kill, your throat would have slit on sight.

You took a step behind Peter.

“I always knew that your methods would backfire one day, Peter.”

Your eyes landed on Steve as he said this, and you watched the blond pour himself a drink. Thor was sitting in the seat closest to him, and you felt grateful for that because you were sure that the sight of an angry and imposing Thor towering over you would have made you faint.

You glanced at Peter, face almost hurting now from how much you were frowning.

“Peter, what’s going on?” you whispered.

“Yeah, Peter,” Steve mockingly agreed. “What’s going on?”

You looked between them, that feeling a full-fledged impairment, now as you almost felt like you couldn’t move.

“Ask her, Peter.”

Steve’s voice had lowered, his tone cold when his blue gaze finally met yours.

“Ask her, right now.”

You wanted to run for some reason, get far away from here…but you couldn’t. Peter seemed to be hesitating about whatever he was supposed to be asking you, and Bucky beat him to it.

“Did you help Nat escape?”

The question shocked you both for how unexpected it was and also because it wasn’t true. You felt your lips part as you looked at Bucky, withering under his venomous stare.

“What?” you gasped. “N-No!”

You looked around, a painful feeling washing over you as you realized what all of this was about.

“No, I-.”

“I don’t believe you,” you hadn’t even been able to get the words out, interrupted by Bucky who charged towards you. “I don’t fucking believe you.”

You stumbled back per courtesy of Peter who forced you back with a hand on your waist. Your hand gripped his arm in fear as you looked around him, watching with wide eyes as he faced Bucky. The other man looked at you like he could kill you without thinking twice about it, and you supposed that he could. He’d done it to Wanda, after all.

You hadn’t realized that you’d started crying, your cheeks cold all of a sudden.

“Bucky.”

“She helped her, Peter. I know she did!” Bucky spat, pointing at you as you shook your head.

“No! I didn’t-! Peter,” you pleaded, looking at him, now. “I didn’t!”

Your voice was cracking, and you hoped they didn’t take that for an admission of guilt or something. You hadn’t helped Nat escape, but you knew that to them, the truth might as well be the same, and you couldn’t stop crying.

“Remind us again, Peter… Repeat to us the events of that night for you,” Steve finally spoke up again, his voice eerily calm as he looked at you both.

His words had you blinking, and you looked to Peter in confusion. He looked conflicted, almost miserable, in fact, and you watched him pull his lip between his teeth.

“What was it you said? You woke up…?”

You looked at Steve, hating him and his mocking tone. You hated the way he talked like he already knew the answers he was looking for, like he was the smartest person in the room.

“…because Y/N wasn’t beside me,” he finally answered.

Steve nodded, slowly and with a hum.

“…and why not? Where was she?”

Your heart dropped to the very bottom of your stomach, and the room swayed for half a second as you tightened your hand on Peter’s arm. You didn’t stare at any of them, your eyes falling to the floor as you fought to keep your food down. You felt numb and heavy all at once, and for the first time in a long time, you genuinely wanted to die.

“Where was she, Peter?” Steve asked again, not so nice this time.

Peter didn’t respond right away, and you wrapped your arm around him, forehead falling to his frame as you held in a sob.

“She was by the window,” he finally breathed, sounding defeated. “Looking out of it.”

You heard Clint mumble something, and although you couldn’t make it out, you knew it wasn’t nice.

Only another moment passed before Peter was harshly pushing you back, but it wasn’t fast enough. Bucky’s hand had gripped the sleeve of your nightgown, both ripping the fabric and scratching your skin in the process. You screamed in both shock and pain, hurrying back until you met the wall, clutching your arm as Peter harshly shoved the older man away.

“She didn’t do it!”

“Move, Peter,” Bucky hissed. “Anyone with half a brain can see that she helped her! She-.”

Bucky cut himself off, and when you looked around Peter, the other man’s chest was heaving as he stared you down.

“Anything could’ve happened to Nat,” he forced out. “Anything, and she-!”

“I didn’t help her!”

“Shut up,” he snarled at you, so harsh and violent that more tears fell.

You pressed your hands to your mouth, trying and failing to hold your sobs in.

“I don’t want to hear another word out of her mouth unless it’s the truth,” he bit out.

“Do not talk to her like that,” Peter told him, taking a step towards him. “Do you hear me?”

He continued before Bucky could say anything else.

“You’re angry, I get it, but if you think I’m going to stand here and let you talk to her like that, you’ve taken one too many blows to the head,” Peter sneered.

They stared at one another for what felt like too long, just staring each other down, and you felt yourself sliding to the floor. The room was blurry from your tears, and it felt so hard to breathe. You brought your knees up to your chest, squeezing your eyes shut as more tears fell.

“Let me talk to her,” you heard Peter whisper, the same thing you’d heard him yell earlier.

You couldn’t stop crying no matter how hard you tried, and you let your head fall into your hands. The room was quiet save from the sound of you, and it wasn’t long before you felt Peter’s hands reach for your own.

“Peter,” you sobbed.

“Look at me. Hey…look at me,” he softly said. “Please…”

You reluctantly peeled your eyes open, and you glanced up when Peter gripped your chin.

“Don’t look at them,” he told you, voice gentle. “Look right at me.”

His voice was soothing, and you reached up to grip his wrist as you met his dark gaze. His eyes were soft, but there was something swirling there that made you nervous. An underlying skepticism lie there, and you pressed your lips together.

“There’s my pretty girl,” he quietly praised, sadly smiling at you.

He wiped your face, tongue darting between his lips. He stared at you, running his eyes over your face, and drinking you in for a moment.

“Did you help Nat escape?”

“No,” you answered without hesitation. “I didn’t. I… I could never.”

…and it was true.

You weren’t like Nat. You were weak, passive at best, and you could never have the courage to actively help anyone in this house escape. At least, you didn’t think so. The best anyone would get out of you was…well…simply looking the other way, and that was why as Peter took a deep breath, hinting that he was not done, you feared what would come out of his mouth. You dreaded his next words…

…and Peter looked like he dreaded them too.

He looked like he dreaded them more than the question that had just left his lips, and maybe it was because he knew the truth in this moment.

“…but you saw her leave.”

He held your gaze, and you held his. You didn’t move…didn’t speak, but you didn’t need to. Your silence was confirmation enough, and you flinched when you heard Bucky break something. It sounded like a glass.

“Peter…”

“You saw her leave…and you didn’t say anything,” he sounded heartbroken, and you soon realized why. “You lied to me.”

Your head lowered, and you wiped your face, but more tears just replaced those. You reached for him, gripping his shirt, trying to keep him close.

“Peter… Peter, I’m sorry,” you choked out, trying to pull him closer.

“That’s why…” he trailed off, sighing to himself as his eyes fell closed.

He chuckled to himself, but it lacked humor.

“That’s why,” he said to himself, his own head lowering so that his forehead touched yours.

You felt him wipe your face, a shaky sigh leaving him.

“I’ll never stop loving you,” he murmured. “…but I’m not who you should be apologizing to.”

You looked at him with wide eyes when he pulled away, and you released another sob. Just the thought of what was waiting for you had you breathing short, and you pressed your hand to your chest. Peter still had one of your hands, and you could feel his chin on top of your head.

“Anything could have happened to her,” he told you. “Nat could’ve been seriously hurt…she could’ve died.”

“We told you,” you heard Bucky harshly tell him. “We told you you were being too soft on her.”

“Bucky…”

Peter’s voice reeked of exasperation as he held you to him, letting you cry into his chest. You couldn’t stop shaking, and your head was pounding so much from your tears. What would happen to you now? Would you be going down into the basement? For how long? Or…

Or was Steve going to make Peter tie you to a tree?

“What? You’re going to look at us and tell us we’re wrong, now? Nat escaped!”

You flinched as Bucky raised his voice, sounding much closer, too close.

“…and she just let it happen,” he snarled. “If she wasn’t yours…if she was just some random woman on the street, I’d wring her neck.”

That was enough to have Peter pulling away from you, presumably confronting Bucky, but you couldn’t even care, couldn’t even focus on that. You couldn’t stop crying no matter how hard you tried. Every time you did, you almost choked, and between that and trying to suck in air…

“…and why would I be like you…? Or Steve? You don’t think you broke her enough when you killed her friends? What did you expect, for her to behave rationally all this time?”

You heard Bucky chuckle, and for some reason, you hated the sound of it. It was cold, nasty, and it sounded like something that preceded trouble.

“Get off your high horse, Peter,” Bucky threw at him. “You’ve done just as much damage to her as we have…”

Bucky’s next words made your breath stop entirely.

“…it wasn’t us who killed…what was her name? Was it Michelle? Was that the one you shot?”

You felt…paralyzed, and the distinct lack of sobs filling the room was evident. Your hands had been on your forehead, and you could only stare at the floor as you felt like nothing was below your feet, falling without an end in sight. A sharp pain in your head forced you to squeeze your eyes shut, and you shook your head.

No.

No…no…

That wasn’t right.

It couldn’t be.

Sam…Sam killed her. Hadn’t he?

Your chest was hurting so bad that you actually clutched it, gasping for breath, and your other hand reached for the wall, trying and failing to steady yourself. You felt like you were in pain, and when you tried to stand up, you only fell back down. You felt familiar hands on your arms, and when you looked up, you flinched.

Peter frowned.

“Y/N…”

“What…?” you breathed.

That couldn’t be true…and yet…you couldn’t recall actually seeing Sam shoot Michelle. You…you had just assumed… But Peter was the first one to get to you that day, but he’d also spoke as if it was Sam…but Peter… As you looked into his brown eyes, the brown eyes that you had grown to look forward to looking into, you realized that Peter was a liar…and a murderer.

…and you wanted to be sick.

His hands were on your face, and you tried to bat them away.

“No, no, no,” you repeatedly mumbled, shaking your head. “No!”

You shoved at him, but Peter wouldn’t budge, determined to get you to calm down. Too preoccupied with wanting to be as far away from him as possible, you were none the wiser to Steve’s approach.

“It’s a good thing you brought Nat back up to prepare for Bruce’s visit,” the blond said, shoving past Peter and roughly grabbing you. “…because now she’ll have the whole basement to herself.”

The scream that you let out hurt your throat, and despite your anger and disgust with him, you still reached for Peter as Steve dragged you away. Your hand just barely grazed his as your feet lifted from the ground, and you reached out, trying to grab onto anything you could. You could hear Peter following behind Steve, begging and pleading with him on your behalf.

You could hear something occasionally being knocked over by you, the sound of breaking glass reaching your ears here and there. When Steve finally did reach the basement door, you pressed your feet to it, trying in vain to prevent this from happening. You hadn’t been in the basement since your first few days here, and it was not somewhere you wanted to be again. Not now…not after…

However, enthusiastic to see you suffer for letting his wife get away, Bucky unlocked and opened the door for Steve, the darkness threatening to swallow you whole. When Steve’s arm pressed into the cut Bucky had made on your arm, you winced.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time…”

…and with those last words, Steve tossed you inside. Your hands slid over the steps as you fell, feet tangling together, and you reached out to grab the rail, but it only slowed your descent. It did nothing to stop it, landing at the bottom of the stairs in a heap just as the door was slammed shut. You were surrounded by darkness, but it was the least of your worries, a choked wail escaping you at the thought of Peter.

You pressed your face into the floor as you cried, lacking the strength and will to move.

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