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waitimcomingtoo · 12 days

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Smell Ya Later

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: you get a new body cream that allegedly attracts spiders, and someone else

Masterlist

Whenever you needed a some space from your everyday routines, you packed up your stuff and spent the weekend in your room at the Stark Tower. You had spent the day shopping and picked up a few self care items, including a new body cream you had seen online. Once night had fallen and you felt you had shopped enough, you retreated back to your room and sat at your desk to look at the things you had bought.

“Let’s see how you smell.” You said as you twisted the cap off the body cream. You had barely raised the jar to your nose when Peter appeared the doorway of your room.

“Hey.” He greeted.

“Jeez. You scared me. I didn’t know you were here tonight.” You laughed and put your hand over your pounding heart.

“Yeah, I’m spending the weekend here to give my aunt some time with her boyfriend. But, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was walking by and wanted to come say hi.” He laughed shyly.

“Oh. Well, hi.” You smiled and gave him a little wave.

“Mm. Something smells really good in here.” Peter sniffed the air as he walked into your room. You were pretty sure this was the first tike Peter was actually in your room and that made you gulp.

“Really? I don’t smell anything.”

“Maybe it’s just the air. Girls rooms always smell good.” He shrugged.

“Are you in a lot of girls rooms?” You asked teasingly but were dying to know the answer.

“No.” He chuckled. “But I remember from going over to girls houses for group projects and stuff in middle school. Plus, Natasha’s and Wanda’s room always smells good when I walk by. Not that I go around sniffing everyone’s rooms.”

“I’m starting to think you might.” You mumbled out of the corner of your mouth.

“I don’t, I swear. Did you just go shopping?” He laughed and leaned against your desk. You sucked in a sharp breath over the close proximity and nodded your head.

“I did. But I didn’t get anything exciting.”

“What do you mean? This looks very exciting. What is this?” Peter asked as he held up a fluffy headband with a large bow at the front.

“A headband to keep my hair out of my face when I wash it.”

“Oh. I thought it was a giant scrunchie. Or a really small tube top.” Peter pursed his lips as he turned the headband over in his hands to try and understand it.

“No. Neither.” You laughed shyly as you watched him touch your things.

“What’s this thing?” He asked and held up your heartless curls rod.

“It’s for heartless curls.” You replied, making Peter look at you in confusion.

“You know. Curling your hair. With no heat.”

“This tiny pool noodle curls your hair?” Peter asked in disbelief and held up the limp rod.

“Yes. You wrap it around this and sleep in it. Then you wake up with curly hair.” You explained and wrapped a strand of your hair around it to demonstrate.

“Okay. I’m getting closer to understanding. What role does this thing play in all of that that?” Peter asked as he picked up a claw clip from your desk and opened it a few times.

“You use this to clip the rod onto your head while you wrap your hair.” You informed him.

“Wow. Sometimes I feel like girls live in an entirely different secret world than boys. Like, I just put water in my hair and say I’m ready. But you guys have all these fun fancy contraptions.” He smiled as he played with a scrunchie on your desk.

“Yeah. I guess it is kinda fun.” You shrugged as you looked at all the silly contraptions laid out in your desk.

“Woah. What’s this thing?” Peter gasped and picked up your jade roller that was still in the package.

“It’s called a jade roller.”

“You’re gonna have to explain.” He said and looked to you for help.

“I haven’t tried it yet but basically you put it in the refrigerator and then roll it on your face to decrease puffiness in the morning.” You explained as you took it out of the box.

“And it works?”

“I don’t know. But it feels good.” You shrugged and rolled it up and down your cheek.

“I can’t imagine that medieval looking thing feeling good.” Peter mumbled.

“It does. Come here.” You beckoned him with your finger and he leaned down closer to your face. You smiled timidly at him as you rolled it up and down his face.

“See? It feels nice, right?” You asked in a soft voice.

“I’ve never experienced this feeling before.” Peter said and closed his eyes peacefully.

“You should get one.” You chuckled and rolled it on his forehead.

“I don’t know. Mr. Stark already made fun of me for my Lana Del Ray poster. If he sees this in my room he might think I’m a little weirdo.”

“Who cares what he thinks? He has a “nail girl” for his weekly manicures and pedicures. And I think it’s attractive when a guy cares about his hygiene. Which says a lot about my standards now that I say that out loud.” You realized and thought about that for a minute.

“Maybe I will get one then. Because I care about my hygiene. A lot. More than the other guys you know, I bet.” Peter bragged, making you laugh.

“I would not have a hard time believing that.” You answered honestly.

“Why do you need all this stuff anyway? You’re so pretty.” Peter asked as he gestured to all the things on your desk. Guy cracked a smile at his casual compliment but didn’t make a big deal out of it.

“It guess it’s like you said. It’s fun. I like using these things when I’m having quiet time by myself.”

“I like that. That’s something new I just learned about you. I also didn’t know your last name until right now.” Peter tapped a school paper on your desk that said your full name. You laughed as he stood up and headed towards your door. The moment was ending but it was the first time you really talked to Peter one on one in that way so you still took it as a win.

“Seriously. Something smells really good in here.” He said from your doorway.

“I think I smell it too now. Maybe somethings in the air.” You smiled shyly.

“Must be.” He smirked. “Goodnight, L/n.”

“Goodnight, Parker.” You called after him. Once he was gone, you stayed looking at the doorway with a starstruck smile on your face. You didn’t know what prompted Peter to talk to you all of the sudden but you were thankful to whatever it was.

The next day, you went downstairs for breakfast and found Natasha and Wanda in the kitchen. You stopped to talk to them for a minute as you finished rubbing your body cream onto your elbows.

“Ooo. You smell good. What is that?” Natasha asked you.

“It’s a body cream from that brand Sol De Janeiro. I’ve never used it before but it had good reviews.” You told her as you smelled your wrist to catch the scent again.

“Wow. It’s really nice.” She sniffed you again. “You smell like how Moana feels to watch.”

“Thank you.” You smiled. “But when did you watch Moana?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of luxury sunblock or every flower scented candle at Yankee Candle at once.” Wanda added.

“That description also works, thank you.” You nodded in agreement.

“That reminds me.” Natasha began. “I need to get a new perfume. I’ve become totally nose blind to mine and I can never tell-“

“Hey guys. Mmm. Something smells good. What is that?” Peter burst into the room suddenly full of energy while loudly sniffing the air. You smiled and waved at him and he immediately went over to you.

“It’s this one.” Wanda said and pointed to you. Peter put his hand on your back and stepped closer to you to taken whiff.

“Oh, yeah. It is you. You smell amazing.” He told you.

“Oh, thank you.” You laughed shyly. “It’s just my body cream.”

“God damn. It smells so good.” Peter gushed. “I’ve never smelled anything like that. What’s it called?”

“Um, I’m not sure. I could find out and tell you, though.” You offered.

“Yeah, sure. I probably wouldn’t use it because it smells like a woman angel that turned into a vanilla bean but I wouldn’t keep a jar around just to sniff. It smells amazing.” He insisted and moved close to you to inhale again.

“So you’ve said.” Natasha snorted and gave you a look. You gave her a confused look as Peter put his hands on your hips and nose right on your shoulder to smell you.

“Sorry. I just really love that scent. It makes me feel like that scene in Ratatouille.” Peter said.

“What scene?” You looked over your shoulder to ask him and tried not to scream over how he was holding you.

“When that guy eats the ratatouille.” He said simply. “Holy shit, L/n. You smell like a flower that was dipped in crystallized sugar and then rolled in fairy dust. I could smell you all day.”

Just then, Tony walked by and saw how close Peter was to you. He frowned when he heard Peter sniffing loudly and rolled up the magazine in his hand.

“Down boy. Bad. Off of her.” Tony said as he smacked Peter with the magazine.

“But she smells so good.” Peter whined.

“No. Bad. Bad boy.” Tony shook his head and continued hitting Peter with the magazine.

“Fine.” Peter grumbled. “Bye.”

“Bye.” You waved to him as he left the room. Once you were alone with the girls again, they looked at you with raised eyebrows.

“What?” You wondered.

“How long has that been going on?” Wanda asked you.

“How long has what been going on?”

“You and Peter.” Natasha replied.

“What? There’s nothing going on between me and Peter.” You forced a laugh and looked to the side.

“Well he clearly wants there to be something. I have not seen a boy that down bad since high school. Wait, how old are you guys again? 14?” Wanda asked.

“22.” You corrected. “And Peter is not down bad for me. I’m pretty sure he likes this girl from his school.”

“What’s her name?” Natasha asked.

“Liz.” You answered immediately. “I mean, I don’t know. Who cares?”

“Oh, so the crush is mutual?” Wanda nodded in understating.

“No. Nothing is mutual.” You scoffed. “This isn’t liberty.”

“Oh, you have it so bad.” Natasha laughed at how flustered you were getting.

“Nuh uh. Maybe you like Peter and you’re trying to deflect. Ever think about that?” You asked her.

“Right. I like a middle schooler who cries to Lana Del Ray on weeknights.” She answered sarcastically.

“She has very moving music.” You defended him.

“I think it’s cute that you guys like each other.” Wanda said. “And it makes total sense for you to be together. You’re the same age and have a similar lifestyle. Why not tell him how you feel?”

“Because I don’t like him.” You insisted. “And he doesn’t like me.”

“If he doesn’t like you then why was he just using you like a scratch and sniff?” Natasha raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe he just likes to sniff things.” You shrugged. “Maybe that’s his thing.”

“Or maybe you’re his thing.” Natasha replied.

“Do you really think he likes me?” You asked them hopefully.

“I always kinda thought he did.” Wanda admitted. “And After that disturbing encounter, there’s no doubt in my mind. He’s definitely into you.”

“Hm.” You hummed and thought about it. You’d always had a secret crush on him and he had no idea so maybe it was possible that he felt the same way about you without you ever realizing.

You spent the day thinking about what the girls had said. Your thinking was interrupted when Peter returned to your room that night and took a whiff of the air.

“Mm. Smells good in here.” He noted.

“I have a candle on. I mean, lit.” You corrected yourself and pointed to your candle.

“Don’t knock it over and burn your room down. That happened to Brittany Spears, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” You insisted. “I watch all the videos of her spinning in her living room.”

“Same.” He laughed. “What are you doing right now?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“I was gonna go grab food. Would you want to-“

“Yes.” You said immediately. You felt embarrassed for answering so fast but Peter didn’t seem to mind.

“Cool. Let’s go.” He said and nodded towards the door.

Thirty minutes later, you were sitting on a bench outside of Delmar’s with sandwiches and bottles of ice tea. Peter picked the place and you followed his lead when ordering because he seemed like a regular.

“And why is it flat?” You asked him as he held up his squished sandwich.

“Because it tastes better the flatter it is, duh. Try it.” He insisted and gestured to your squished sandwich. You gave him a skeptical look before giving it a bite.

“Okay. You might be on to something.” You admitted once you had swallowed.

“Thank you. Every few years my brain lets me have one good idea.” Peter said as he happily chewed his sandwich.

“What was the good idea before this one?”

“Chips in my sandwich.”

“I see. And are these ideas always sandwich related?” You chuckled.

“Wait.” He gasped. “Yeah. They are.”

“Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe you’re a natural born sandwich maker.” You shrugged.

“Maybe I’m Jersey Mike.” He gasped even louder, making you laugh. People were looking but you were too excited to be there with him to care.

“I was gonna say you’re Jared from Subway but I think he’s a pedophile or something.” You told him.

“What? No way.” Peter scoffed and pulled out his phone to google it.

“Oh damn. You’re right.” He realized. “Wow. Even Jared from Subway is a bad guy? Is no one safe?”.

“I mean, you could really say any male celebrities name and there’s like a 50% chance he has charges against him.” You shrugged.

“That’s so true. My record is clean, by the way.” Peter told you. “Until my identity gets revealed. Then I’m looking at a lifetime of property damages and breaking and entering charges.”

“Oh, for me too. I have trespassed more times than I’ve actually been invited somewhere.” You answered. Peter laughed and then looked at you fondly for a minute. You grew self conscious under his gaze and nervously cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry. I keep getting distracted by your perfume.” He admitted. “I can’t get over how good it smells. You smell like the freaking sugarplum fairy.”

“Thank you. You smell good too.” You complicated and nudged him a little.

“That’s because I stole some of Mr. Starks super expensive cologne before we left. He called me to his room once just to show me the price tag on it. I thought it was his social security number at first. And the bottle is so small. I thought it was stupid to spend so much on such a tiny bottle but now that I’m wearing it I feel like I really want to fire someone.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever felt that feeling.”

“Me either. Until today. I smell like a whole different tax bracket right now and I don’t know if I can go back to my Axe Dark Temptation spray. I don’t want to smell like the bourgeois anymore.”

“Thats so funny.” You chuckled. “Do you always take his cologne?”

“Never. Just for today because I knew I was gonna ask you to hang out.” He said before taking a bite. You paused and sat with the implication that he did something just to impress you.

“I’m flattered to know you stole for me.” You said with a coy smile.

“Well you always smell amazing so I didn’t want you to think you were hanging out with some stinky rat.” Peter explained.

“I would never say that about you. I must say, you’re the best smelling rat I’ve been around.”

“Since we live in New York, I’m taking that as a compliment and letting it inflate my ego.” Peter warned you.

“Your ego must be pretty big already though, right? If I was a guy your age who looked like you did and could do the things you can do, I’d be super annoying about it. Like, raise my hand in class using two fingers and ask a question that’s just a roundabout way to show off how intelligent I am kind of annoying.”

“Looks like me? Can you elaborate on that, please, miss?” He asked with a cheeky smile.

“You know.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Giant muscles. Giant brown eyes. I don’t know much about spiders but giant something else, I’m guessing. That spider bite served you well.”

“Stop. I’m shy.” Peter laughed and covered his face with his hands

“Come on.” You groaned. “You have to know you’re cute.”

“My aunt says I’m a handsome little lad.” He said and batted his eyelashes to make you laugh.

“She’s right.” You laughed. “But seriously. If my arms looked like that I’d only wear tight white shirts and ridiculously skinny jeans. And obviously slick my hair back like a Greaser. A full Soda Pop Curtis, if you will.”

“Oh, so you’re an Outsiders fan? This is me trying to maintain a regular conversation while hoping my heart rate returns to normal after being bombarded with compliments, by the way.” Peter said with a rosy blush on his face.

“I love The Outsiders. I’m still chasing the high I felt when my teacher played the movie for us in 5th grade and Soda Pop came out of the shower in the beginning. I think all the girls in that room remember that moment. I haven’t felt that way since.”

“Really? Never?”

“Maybe once or twice.” You smiled fondly at him.

“Well, to answer your question, I am actually a total loser at school and have an ego the size of a walnut. No one knows I can do the things I can do so I’m just another goofy goober on campus.”

“How can you saw you’re a goober when you’ve probably saved the life of every person in your school? More than once I might add.”

“Because I didn’t do that stuff. Spiderman did.” He explained. “When I’m on campus, I’m just me. It’s the only way to protect my identity. I have to let all the credit go to someone else.”

“Okay, I get not taking credit to remain humble and anonymous and what not, but what about all the other cool stuff you can do? I’ve seen you move a refrigerator with ease and casually run a mile without breaking a sweat. How do you resist the urge to show off all the time?”

“Because I wasn’t some sports star before I was bitten so it would be highly suspicious if I showed up one day and started dunking on everyone and breaking their ankles and third sports term. I only want to use my abilities to help people. Not to get popular.” He shrugged. As he spoke, you felt your crush on him turned into full blown infactuation. You’d always liked him from afar but now that you were getting to know him, he was even better than you thought.

“You’re better than me. I’d be doing backflips down the hallway and climbing on the walls. And if I got in trouble, I’d just be like “remember when New York wasn’t taken over by aliens? You’re welcome, bitch.” And then I’d swing away and probably kiss a cheerleader. Maybe even two.” You told him.

“Uh uh. My powers have definitely not gotten me any kisses from cheerleaders.” He laughed and shook his head.

“So you don’t have a girlfriend or anything?” You asked and couldn’t help but smile.

“No. My roster is empty. And I wish I could blame that on the Spiderman stuff but I can’t. I’ve never been lucky in that department.”

“I don’t understand that. You’re so…” You trailed off when you realized you were about to say too much. Peter looked at you with a coy smile and raised his eyebrows.

“So?” He asked.

“So annoying.” You insisted. “And ugly, actually.”

Luckily, he understood that you were saying the opposite of what you meant and smiled in appreciation.

“What about you? You must have a boyfriend and 10 guys lined up ready to take his place the second he falters, right?”

“11 guys.” You corrected.

“Damn. I’m sorry. I should’ve known.” He said and held up his hands in defense.

“It’s okay. How could you have known? But, um, no. No boyfriend.” You told him and watched carefully for a reaction.

“So you don’t like anyone at your school?”

“Not at school, no.”

“Oh. So there is someone.” He smirked.

“There may or may not be a boy. But he likes someone else so it doesn’t even matter.” You waved your hand in dismissal.

“Does he know you like him?” Peter asked. Your knees and elbows were touching as you sat together on that bench. You couldn’t help but notice he had gotten closer and closer as you talked.

“No.” You replied as you stared into Peter’s eyes.

“That’s obviously why he likes someone else.” Peter insisted. “I guarantee that if he knew he had a chance with you, he’d forget all about that other girl.”

“I don’t know. Do you really think that?” You asked skeptically.

“Definitely. He’d be crazy not to go for someone so…” He trailed off to give you a taste of your own medicine.

“So?” You shook his arm to urge him to continue.

“Ugly.” He replied. “Really, really ugly. Not pretty at all. Definitely not funny or charming. And a stinky rat. And ugly, if I didn’t mention that before. Ghoul like, even.”

“Thank you.” You smiled warmly, knowing he meant the opposite of what he was saying.

“You’re very welcome.” He smiled back. “So when are we doing this again?”

You did it again the next night, this time at a food truck you liked, and then a few days after that. That’s when Peter started giving you his weekends. You started hanging out more and more and grew to be close friends in just a short time. You lived at home during the week and could look forward to Peter’s almost nightly visits while he was on parol just to sit in your window and talk to you. He was so so consistent that you started leaving your bedroom door open just for him.

“I’m here. Don’t be naked.” Peter said as he climbed through your window one evening.

“I just got out of the shower. What if I was naked? Then what?” You asked as you rubbed your body cream into your skin.

“Then we’d have a funny story to tell at parties.” He said as he pulled his mask off. You couldn’t help but smile at the way his messy curls stood up on his head.

“Oh yeah? And what’s so funny about me being naked?” You teased him as you squeezed the excess water out of your hair with a towel.

“That’s not the funny part. The funny part would have been when my eyes sprang out from my head on slinkies and made an audible “boing-oing-oing” sound. Right before my head exploded and left a smoking stump on my neck.” Peter told you, making you playfully roll your eyes.

“Oh wow. Very Tom and Jerry of you.” You chuckled.

“A full Tom and Jerry. The only thing missing would be the little blue birds and or angles flying around my head but I didn’t say that one because it’s typically reserved for traumatic head injuries.”

“You’re stupid.” You laughed and shook your head endearingly at him. Peter smiled back at you

“You’re stupid.” He chuckled. “You smell good.”

You really liked being friends with Peter. The more time you spent with Peter, the more you found you could talk to him about anything. He seemed so interested in every little thing you said. You worried your crush suddenly taking an extreme interest in you might be too good to be true, so you were determined to enjoy it while it lasted. And do far, it had lasted two months.

“Hey you two. Are you gonna be hungry…” Tony trailed off when he assessed the situation in front of him. You and Peter turned your heads when you heard Peter’s bedroom door open, giving Tony a full view of the green face masks you had covering your faces. You were sitting on Peter’s bed and applying masks to each others faces so your hands were full of the green goop as well. Tony looked back and forth between the two of you for a minute but eyes kept returning to the giant pink bow headband Peter had on to hold his hair back.

“Oh.” Tony nodded. “Hm. Okay.”

“Hi Mr. Stark.” Peter waved.

“I was gonna ask if you guys were hungry. But now I don’t know how to feel.” Tony said with a blank expression.

“We’re okay. We door dashed some food. Thank you, though.” You replied.

“No problem. Try not to have too much fun, ladies.” Tony snickered and closed the door.

“He doesn’t get us.” Peter rolled his eyes and smeared some of the face mask across your forehead. You smiled at the mention of “us” and stared into his eyes.

“He wishes he was gonna have clarified skin and minimized pores in 45 minutes.” You agreed.

“45 minutes? Oh shit. We should’ve brought snacks.”

“I can go grab some. I need to pee anyway.” You told him and hoped off his bed. You hit up the kitchen after the bathroom and raised the refrigerator for some snacks. When you shut the refrigerator door, Natasha was standing there watching you.

“So. Having another stay at home date with Peter?” She asked and pointed to your face mask.

“It’s not a date.” You rolled your eyes. “We’re just two friends hanging out.”

“Right. And do you share clothes with all of your friends or just the ones you don’t have feelings for?” She asked sarcastically.

“He wasn’t wearing my pants that day, okay?” You sighed. “He just asked me to embroider little molecules into his jeans and then wanted me to sign my name. Which is very normal for two friends to do.”

“So that’s not his sweatshirt you have on now?” Natasha asked and pointed to the Museum of Natural History hoodie you had on.

“It is. But-“

“But. Mm hm, yeah?” She cut you off with sarcastic interest in her voice.

“Yes, but.” You stated. “It’s too small on him now that the bite made him all big and muscly. But his uncle bought it for him and it was too sentimental to throw away so he let me have it.”

“Oh. So he gave you an article of clothing that his dead uncle gave to him? That’s very platonic of him.” Natasha said before cracking a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re implying.” You played dumb.

“I’m implying that you two are dating but pretending you’re not.”

“What?” You forced a laugh. “We are not dating.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re not fooling anyone with that. Why don’t you just call a spade a spade and make out already?”

“Because it’s not a spade. Your mom’s a spade. We’re just friends.” You insisted and felt glad your face mask was covering up your embarrassed blush.

You went back to Peter’s room with the snacks and pushed Natasha’s comments from your mind. Peter could tell that something was bothering but he didn’t push it.

You spent the next few nights at home but headed back to the tower to spend the weekend. You knew Peter would be arriving later that night so you got ready in your room while you waited. You scrolled on your phone while you did your makeup and came across an article on the body cream you’d been wearing lately. You started to read it but got distracted by the sound of people in the downstairs. You left your room and took the elevator down to see if it was Peter, but found Wanda and Natasha instead.

“Oh, hey. I was just telling Nat I got that cream you told us about. It just smelled so good on you.” Wanda told you.

“Did you? Tell me what you think of it. It works really well but I think I have to stop wearing it. I was just reading online that apparently it attracts….” You trailed off and pulled out your phone to show Wanda the article. You got distracted by a text from Peter telling you that he had arrived. You furrowed your eyebrows and stared at the text as things started to make sense in your head.

“Attracts what?” Wanda asked you. You looked up to answer her but got distracted by Peter walking in.

“Spiders.” You told her as you stared at Peter.

“Hey, Y/n.” Peter greeted with a smile. “Come with me up to the roof. I have something to show you.”

Peter took your hand and started pulling you towards the elevators. You were still lost in thought but regained composure enough to look at the girls while you were being pulled away.

When you got to the roof, the sun was just beginning to sink into the city skyline, making for a peaceful atmosphere. There were some snacks set out and a sheet you recognized from Peter’s room.

“What’s this?” You turned to him to ask. He was already staring at you and watching carefully for a reaction.

“You said you’d been so busy with homework lately that you don’t even realize when it becomes night so I thought we could take a mental break together and watch the sunset.” Peter explained with a sheepish smile. You lit up when you heard his plan and forgot all about the article.

“You planned this for me?”

“I didn’t want you to work yourself to death. You’re gonna do fine on your finals. You’re the smartest person I know. Other than, like, the two super genius’s I know. But you’re definitely up there.” He assured you. You broke into a smile and threw your arms around him to thank him. He stumbled back a little a before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you back.

“Thanks, Peter. This is really sweet.” You said and pulled away just enough to look at him. You stayed with your arms wrapped around each other as the sun began to set around you.

“You’re very welcome.” He said with a fond smile. You stared into his eyes and felt his magnetic force pulling you towards him. Peter’s eyes dropped down to your lips before a rosy blush covered his face. You couldn’t believe what was about to happen was actually happening. He started to lean in and cracked a smile just before your lips could touch.

“God, you smell amazing.” He whispered to you. You snapped out of your trance and took a step back from him.

“Oh my God.” You gasped. “I knew it.”

“Wait, what? Knew what?” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to look as disappointed as he felt that the moment had ended.

“You don’t even like me. You’re just attracted to my delicious smelling body cream!” You shouted and pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“Woah, what? I have been accused of so many things but that is truly a first.” Peter said and held up his hands in defense.

“I bet this whole thing was a set up just so that you could sniff me!” You gasped and pointed his picnic.

“What are you even talking about?” He matched your tone and pulled his hair in exasperation. You put your hand over your heart to catch your breath as you looked between him and his setup. Everything made sense now. Peter started talking to you the moment you opened up that jar of body cream. He only wanted to hang out with you once you started wearing it. And as you stood there on the roof with him and realized it never had anything to do with you, you felt gutted.

“I thought…I thought you liked me.” You said in a quiet voice as your face sank with disappointment. Peter turned red all the way to his ears and laughed in embarrassment.

“I do like you.” He said quietly.

“But not for me.” You shook your head. “For the way I smell.”

“What? That’s crazy?” He laughed is dismissal. You rolled up your sleeves and walked back over to him to hold your arm under his nose.

“You like this.” You told him.

“Damn, that smells good.” Peter whispered as he took in your scent.

“See? It’s my body cream. It attracts spider. Whatever is lingering in your DNA from the bite makes you attracted to this specific scent.” You grumbled as you pushed your sleeves back down.

“Huh. That explains why I got a boner in Sephora the other day.” He realized.

“Why were you in Sephora?”

“I was getting us more face masks. I even used your email so you could get the points.”

“You did?” You asked and cracked a smile. Peter looked at you sympathetically and took a step towards you.

“I had a whole night planned for us. I was gonna bring you up here to watch the sunset. And I brought snacks you like. Even disgusting Salt and Vinegar chips.”

“I love those.”

“I know you do, for some odd reason. And once the sun had set, I was gonna go downstairs with you to do the face makes. I got you a panda because you like them and mine looks like Hello Kitty, see?” Peter said and he pulled the masks out of his bag.

“Very impressive selection.”

“I know. Once we had them on, I was gonna tell you that you’re the only person I don’t feel like I need to wear a mask with. Or you’re the only person who makes me feel the way I do when I’m wearing my mask. In parenthesis, my Spiderman mask. Which implies you make me feel invincible. I don’t know. It was gonan be some mask related metaphor that I was hoping would come to me in the moment.”

“Why did you need a mask related metaphor?”

“So I could ease the tension and segway into telling you that I like you.” He admitted with a timid smile.

“You do?” You asked skeptically. Peter nodded his head and put his hands on your shoulders.

“I wouldn’t do all this for you just because I liked the way you smell. And believe me, I love the way you smell. If I could shrink you down using the Honey I Shrunk the Kids machine and shove you up my nose, I would. But I like a million other things about you too that don’t involve the olfactory bulb.”

“Then how come we only started hanging out once I started using the body cream?”

“Okay, I’ll admit, I got a whiff of the body cream and basically floating in the air down the hallway into your room like a cartoon pig being lead to a pie.” Peter prefaced. “But that was just the first time you wore it. It gave me the confidence to ask you to hang out which is something I’d been wanting to do since we met. And once we started hanging out and I learned all these new things about you, I liked you even more. Which I didn’t know was possible because I was already listening to Lana Del Ray and pretending you wrote the songs about me. When you started smelling divine, that was just the icing on an already big cake. I’m talking Cake Boss level size cake that’s mostly made of Rice Krispies and plastic tubes.”

“So now I’m divine? I thought I was ugly and not funny or charming at all.” You teased him as you stepped even closer.

“You’re right. I still find you very unattractive and don’t want to be your boyfriend and l definitely don’t want to kiss you-“

You cut him off by pulling him by the shirt into a kiss. He stopped talking immediately to kiss you back, putting his hands on your face to pull you closer.

“You smell so fucking good.” He growled and pulling you closer by the waist. You giggled against his lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

You and Peter eventually retired to the sheet to watch the rest of the sun set. You laid on his chest and listened to his heart beating while the scent of his cologne filled your nose. You went back downstairs hand in hand once the sky was dark and passed by Wanda in the living room.

“Goodnight, Wanda.” You smiled at her as you and Peter walked by.

“Goodnight.” She replied and waved her fingers. Peter stopped suddenly in his tracks and looked at Wanda.

“Woah.” He smiled. “You smell really good, Wanda. What do you have-“

“Oh, no you don’t.” You cut him off and pulled him by the back of his shirt away from her.

“It’s the cream.” Peter said in defeat. “I’m defenseless to the cream.”

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cherienymphe · 5 months

Text

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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literaryavenger · 2 months

Text

Can I be him?

Summary: When Bucky finds something of yours, he hopes against hope that you feel the same way about him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language cause it's me. Fluff. A lot of angst. Idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts, both reader and Bucky. No use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 4.8K

A/N: It’s 3am where I live, so… Happy 107th Birthday to my favorite Supersoldier! Today I’m posting 2 Bucky fics because my baby deserves it, this one and another one sometime around the afternoon. Hope someone likes it! Thank you to my angels @ordelixx and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 that gave me so many ideas that helped me finish this. I love you🖤

Masterlist

Being an Avenger is not easy.

The long missions, the intense training, the weight of the world on your shoulders…

Everybody on the team has a different way to unwind after a mission: Steve draws, Clint and Natasha compete doing target practice, Thor sleeps, Sam plays video games, Bucky takes motorcycle rides, Tony and Bruce work on side projects in their lab, Loki reads, Peter does his homework and Wanda cooks with Vision.

For you, it’s going to the rose garden behind the Compound.

It’s a bit of a sanctuary for you, Tony allowed you to put tall hedges of roses with a gazebo-like structure in the middle of them facing the lake, only it’s entirely made of vines.

You made it yourself, that’s your power: you can manipulate anything plant-related.

Everytime you finish a mission the team splits up as soon as the debriefing is over and you walk straight here.

You sit on the bench, also made of vines, take out your diary and start writing.

You write about everything, from details of missions to your feelings about the team. From things you did that you don’t want to forget to things that you want to do after you’re not so tired anymore.

The hedges hide you from view and the only thing you can see when you’re here is the lake.

Sometimes, after a particular difficult mission, you don’t even write. You just sit there and look out into the water, the sunshine or moonlight shining down on you, and you feel at peace.

It helps that nobody else ever comes here. The team understands it’s your safe space, and the agents are mostly scared of your powers ever since you grew a giant carnivorous plant and it bit an agent that squeezed your ass during training.

The agent got both taken to the medbay and suspended on the same day, and you got the thanks of about a dozen girls that had the same problem with the same asshole.

You walk out of the conference room, the debriefing of the team’s latest mission just wrapped up, and like usual everyone scatters to their own after-mission ritual.

Today, though, you can’t concentrate on anything.

Your feet take you to the rose garden by reflex, but your brain doesn’t even register you’re there until you sit on the bench.

Today’s mission took a lot out of you, not just because of the amount of magic you had to use to get everyone out safely, but also because it was your fault the team was in so much danger in the first place.

You fucked up your task, Natasha had to step in and save your ass, moving away from her post and making her late for her own task and that derailed the entire mission.

At the end, you had to use your powers to take out the hundreds of Hydra agents at the same time, which is no small feat and made you almost pass out.

Everybody told you on the way home not to worry, the mission was successfully accomplished and everyone made it out safely, but you know that if it wasn’t for your screw up the team would’ve gotten in and out of base without so much as a scratch.

Nobody had fatal injuries, thank God, but Sam got shot in the leg, Clint got stabbed and everyone else had various degrees of injuries because Hydra got the jump on the team.

Because of me.

That was all you kept thinking about. Your brain had a field day making up all kinds of scenarios where your mistake cost someone’s life, a few of them even had the entire team dying because of your stupidity.

You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice someone following you to the rose garden.

Not that you ever do.

If there’s one thing Bucky Barnes knows how to do, is move around undetected. He’s a master assassin, he was trained for this for over 50 years, he knows how to be a shadow.

Except now he uses his skills for good during missions and, occasionally, to follow you.

Not in a creepy way, of course, just to check on you. At least that’s the excuse he always uses so he won’t have to admit to himself that what he does is, indeed, a little creepy.

But he can’t help himself, Bucky knew from the moment he saw you that he was fucked.

The moment you walked into the room to meet the team his heart was yours. You stole it with one simple smile, with one look of your beautiful eyes.

You introduced yourself and shook hands with everyone, but when you looked at Bucky he felt like a light came on and it was just you two.

You shook his hand and he felt like he had to take it off and give it to you, it was yours now. His hand, his arm, his leg, his head, his heart, his soul. Everything he is was now yours, he just knew it.

Then you said his name and he could’ve died right there and then. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and it was barely two syllables. Every word you said, every laugh and sound that came out of your pretty mouth, Bucky felt like it was all for him. Nobody else mattered.

Bucky knew then he was in love.

But he didn’t know how to approach you. You were like a fairy, like a princess. Growing flowers, always smiling, baking, growing everyone’s favorite flowers and always willing to help, like growing Aloe when Wanda burned herself cooking, or Chamomile to help with Tony’s anxiety, or Valerian roots whenever someone was feeling down.

You were like sunshine and he was terrified he’d kill your light. But he’d be damned if he’d let the world kill it either, he’d protect you with his life.

So he took to following you, making sure you were safe from a distance.

But it’s not like he never talked to you, the more time you spent with the team the more comfortable Bucky got around you and eventually you became friends.

Bucky knew you could take care of yourself, you were one of the strongest members of the team, but he didn’t like it when you were in your rose garden by yourself. The tall hedges made it impossible to see incoming danger, so he kept an eye on you just to be sure.

For his own piece of mind. And you never saw him.

That was Bucky’s actual way to unwind after a mission.

He’d tell everybody he was going for a ride on his bike, but he’d drive it through the woods around the compound and to the other side of the lake where he’d have a perfect view of you without you knowing.

Deep down he knew it was a little creepy, he could just ask you if he could join you, but he felt like you needed your time alone without anyone else around, and he knew if he asked you, you’d say yes no matter what you were feeling, because that’s just the kind of person you are.

So Bucky watched you from afar, always careful not to be seen. He watched you write for hours, it relaxed him to see your beautiful face so concentrated.

Sometimes you’d laugh quietly at what you were writing and those were the only times Bucky was grateful for the supersoldier serum that allowed him to hear such a beautiful sound even with so much distance between you.

But it was torture for him when he knew you had a bad day. Sometimes you’d hug your knees and cry, Bucky could tell how much you’d need a hug, and it killed him that he couldn’t just walk up to you and hug you.

Everytime he sees you cry his heart breaks a little and he always tries to make you feel better when you walk back inside. He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, he just tries to make you laugh. But all he wanted to do was dry your tears.

You did notice Bucky always seemed to act a little goofy when you're feeling down, like he somehow knew, but you never thought much of it.

You knew he was a very observant person, so you assumed he just saw your mood through your behavior better than most.

Bucky loves hanging out with you, even if it’s just as friends. You make fun of him like with everyone else, you don’t treat him like could explode at any moment, never walking on eggshells around him like most people do.

You’ve never been afraid of him, and he’s glad that you don’t treat him like glass. You treat him like everyone else, and it makes him feel normal.

Everytime time he hangs out with you, you take him back to a time where he was unbroken. You make him feel alive again.

And he falls more in love with you by the second because of it. You’re all he wants, he wants to have you and kiss your lips and never let anyone hurt you. That’s all he can think about, but he knows that’s not gonna happen.

He heard you talk to Natasha and Wanda, heard that there’s someone you’d gone on a few dates with. But Bucky knows that guy doesn’t deserve you, nobody does.

Even Bucky himself doesn’t deserve you, you’re too pure for anyone in this world, but if there’s someone that has any chance of making you happy, Bucky prays to God that that someone is him.

Bucky knows today’s mission shook you deeply. He knows you blame yourself, and no amount of reassurance will make you believe that everything is okay.

So today, for the first time, Bucky actually follows you. He can see your unfocused eyes even as you walk and he wants to be near you, just in case.

He almost walks to you when you curl up on the bench and start sobbing quietly, but he holds back not wanting to startle or upset you further.

He just listens to your soft cries until you stop and compose yourself. You sigh and get up, walking back to the Compound to take a much needed relaxing shower.

But you’re still so much in your own head that you don’t even notice you left your diary on the bench in the gazebo.

Bucky did notice, though.

He’s tempted to call after you and tell you, but something deep down tells him not to. He waits until you’re gone and then walks to the bench, picking up your diary and opening it.

He doesn’t know why, he knows it’s wrong, these are your private thoughts, but he’s just drawn to it for some reason.

When he starts reading he notices you don’t mention any specific names, which makes sense because only you read it, you know who you’re writing about. He reads a page here and there, reading about your missions or lazy days.

He reads about some memories with the team you wrote about, some he remembers and others he probably wasn’t there for, but seeing all these memories from your point of view does something to him.

It makes him feel connected to you, makes him feel like he’s reading your heart and soul, because he kind of is. Then he reads something that captures his attention completely.

You write about eyes blue like the ocean and just as troubled, about a smile that could light up the world. You write about someone with a complicated past that never lost his spark, never lost his love for life.

A man that went through hell, and never once took it out on the world. A man that didn’t ever blame the world, even when he had every right to, choosing instead to protect it.

You filled pages and pages with everything you admire about this man, everything you love about him that you know he hates.

And Bucky feels like every word you wrote, you wrote for him. But could this be him? Could he be the one you talk about in all your stories?

He wants to. He wants this to be him. He prays you’re talking about him. He wishes this could be him… Who is he kidding?

Of course it’s not me.

It’s probably the guy you’ve been dating. Yeah, that’s it. You’re in love with that guy, that much is clear.

Bucky gets to the page where you write about your dates with the guy, but he can’t read them.

He closes the diary, not knowing that you compared your date to Bucky every step of the way. Not knowing that you granted the guy a second date just to be sure he couldn’t compare to Bucky, and went on a third date at a coffee shop just to let him down gently.

Bucky didn’t read how you know he’s the one for you, he didn’t read his own name written in your handwriting, the only name in your whole diary because he’s the only person you never want to forget, even though you know you never will.

But Bucky didn’t read that.

He puts your diary back where it was on the bench and, with his heart broken and his hope that one day you could be his lost, he goes back inside and to his room.

It’s only when you go back to the rose garden after your shower that you notice you left your diary there, but don’t think much of it. Nobody ever comes here anyway, as far as you know.

After finding out you’re in love with someone else, Bucky can’t stop himself from acting differently towards you, which you don’t fail to notice.

It’s not like he’s mean, but your interactions get shorter, like he tries his best to end the conversation quickly.

He no longer sits close to you, no longer tries to make you laugh when you’re feeling down, doesn’t hang out with you as much during your down time and if he does, it’s never just the two of you anymore.

It’s silly to say, but you miss him.

Bucky knows he’s been distancing himself, he knows you’ve noticed and he can see it’s affecting you, but he’s doing this to protect himself.

He knows it’s only a matter of time before you present your boyfriend to the team, the man you’re in love with and he doesn’t want it to hurt more than necessary.

You decide not to push Bucky, knowing he has his reasons to pull away from you. Maybe he’s just trying to deal with all the stress the team’s been under and you don’t want to add any more to that, so you let him be.

A few weeks later the team’s on their sixth mission in just as many days and everyone is exhausted. You’ve been taking down Hydra base after Hydra base, because waiting too long meant losing your chance to shut down their operations for good before they got the opportunity to leave.

You’ve been dividing in smaller teams to take down the bases while still giving the team a chance to recuperate, but this last one was the biggest and required the whole team together, which sucked for you because you were in the last team with Steve and Bucky that took down a base just yesterday, so the three of you got barely a few hours of sleep while you flew to the last base.

You’ve cleared the base, all that’s left is the agents in the courtyard who are really going down fighting. The whole team is outside now, the Hydra agents giving you a hell of a fight. You’re using your magic against your better judgment, giant vines coming out of your arms like whips, covered in poisonous thorns. One touch of that and anyone would go down immediately, everyone except you.

Or at least that’s what you think.

As you’re fighting you can see an agent trying to sneak up on Bucky who’s fighting near you, so you quickly take care of it for him.

Bucky turns around and sees the agent down and then looks at you with that charming smile you fell in love with and winks at you. “Thank you, doll.”

That’s the friendliest Bucky’s been towards you in weeks and you can’t help but smile back with a small blush.

You can see the last agent standing coming at you from your peripheral vision and you quickly whip him with a vine, taking him down as soon as you can so you can turn back to look at Bucky, still smiling at you.

Bucky’s smile drops quickly, though, as he sees your face draining of any color. You barely have the time to register the sting of your own thorn on your arm that you’re already falling to the ground.

Bucky tries to catch you, but he gets thrown back by your magic that goes into defense mode, creating a wall of thorns to protect your now unconscious body.

The team doesn't know what to do, none of them know enough about plants to be sure that these thorns wouldn’t just kill them all.

The only one that would know that is you, the person that’s passed out, or worse, trapped in the midst of a cocoon of thorns.

“Okay, we need to find a safe way to-” Steve starts but cuts himself off almost immediately. “What are you doing?!”

Bucky doesn’t even turn around to answer, too intent on breaking the thorns around you with his metal arm, not caring that the thorns are ripping his clothes and scratching his face, all he can think about is getting to you.

He finally manages to get through to you, but nobody can follow because your magic regrows the thorns Bucky broke, trapping him with you inside the cocoon.

But Bucky doesn’t care, his eyes never leaving your face as he kneels behind you, running a finger softly along your cheek and shivering when he feels your skin is cold as ice.

His mind goes to the worst possibility, that there’s nothing he can do, but his brain gives him some hope reasoning that your magic wouldn’t be working if you were dead.

Right?

He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels the thorns around you vibrate, he takes you in his arms and shields you with his body from whatever is about to happen.

But the only thing that happens is the shade cast by the thorns gets replaced by sunlight. Bucky looks up and realizes Wanda used her magic to lift the thorn cocoon.

“You couldn’t have done that before?!” Bucky barks at Wanda with a glare while carefully picking you up to take you to the Quinjet.

“She’s not the dumbass that threw himself headfirst in a mess of thorns without even considering another course of action!” Natasha came in Wanda’s defense, though she seemed more amused at Bucky’s antics than annoyed.

As the team heads back home in the jet, Bruce examines you and lets the team know you’re still alive but in a sort of coma.

Their relief is cut short when Bruce makes it known that he has no idea when, or if, you’ll wake up.

As soon as the Quinjet lands you’re taken to the medbay and hooked up to machines, an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated.

Bucky holds your hand through it all, staying all night next to you just in case you wake up. He didn’t want you to be freaked out and alone, he wanted to be the first person to see your beautiful eyes open.

When morning comes, though, you’re still unconscious, but Bucky doesn’t lose hope. You probably need a good sleep.

That’s what he tells himself for two, three, four days.

That’s what he keeps telling himself for a week, two weeks. Never once leaving your side, not eating unless Steve brings him food and makes sure he eats before leaving, and using the bathroom of your room in the medbay.

He barely sleeps and, when he does, he dreams of you.

Everyone was getting worried about him, he refused to leave your side until one day Steve came into your room to tell Bucky there was something wrong with your rose garden.

Bucky was torn between staying with you and seeing what Steve was talking about, but decided that it would kill you if something happened to your roses so he had to make sure everything was okay when you woke up.

Because you’re going to wake up.

Bucky follows Steve to your rose garden, and his eyes widen in horror as soon as he sees it. The roses, the hedges, the vines.

Everything is dying.

Bucky’s heart breaks, only one thought in his mind. If your plants are dying, does that mean you’re slowly dying too?

No. That’s unacceptable. You’re not gonna die, not if Bucky has anything to do with it.

He takes it upon himself to take care of your garden, watering it and doing everything he can to keep the roses and vines alive, fooling himself into believing that this will keep you alive.

He stays on the gazebo day and night, sleeping on the bench, spending every waking moment trying to keep a hold of even the smallest part of you.

But it’s not enough. Nothing is enough.

Bucky loses track of how many days he’s been in your garden, sleeping maybe an hour at a time here and there, watering the roses every few hours and crying the rest of the time.

After all it’s his fault, if he hadn’t distracted you none of this would’ve happened. You’d be in your beautiful garden, probably with your boyfriend, and the only broken thing would be Bucky’s heart.

That he could’ve lived with.

But how can he live with the knowledge that he caused your end? That he killed your light? That he killed his sunshine, his hope, the love of his life? He can’t live with that.

Not that he has to.

While Bucky’s spiraling while surrounded by dying roses, inside your room in the medbay you’re finally waking up after almost a month.

You open your eyes slowly, looking around you at the hospital-like room. There’s nobody around and, as you look at the window, you can see it’s really late at night.

You sit up and try to make sense of what happened while rubbing your eyes. The last thing you remember is Bucky’s bright smile, and then nothing.

You look down at your arm and see an IV, which you take out while frowning. How long have you been sleeping?

You carefully get off the bed and make your way outside to your rose garden, just to be sure everything’s okay. It’s not like anyone’s gonna stop you anyway.

When you get close, the moonlight shines on the hedges and you gasp at what you see. Your beautiful roses withering away, the gazebo made of vines dying too.

But the most confusing thing is the sobs coming from the bench, although no one’s sitting on it.

You get closer and see Bucky sitting in front of the bench while hugging his knees and crying softly. You frown and get a little closer before stopping, not wanting to startle him.

“Bucky…” You say quietly and his head snaps up, his eyes instantly meeting yours.

For a moment it feels like he’s trying to decide if you’re real, he reaches out and you extend your hand to take his. That seems to convince him and he gasps.

“Doll…” His voice is barely above a whisper, almost as if he thinks if he makes too much noise you’ll disappear.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him while getting a little closer to him, concern clear in your every feature.

It’s only when you get closer that you see his face full of cuts and you frown. Those are not just any scratches, it’s clear to you that they were made by thorns. “D-did… Did I do this to you?”

You’re kneeling in front of him now, one hand still in his one the other comes up to trace the cuts in his face softly, but he takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.

“I’m okay…” He reassures you.

Just then he realizes, you’re fussing over him when you’re the one that’s been in a coma for a month. “Are you okay? How long have you been awake?”

“I… I just woke up.” You tell him honestly, then look around at the dying roses and vines before looking back at him. “What happened to me?”

“You got stung by one of your poisonous thorns.” He says quietly, his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin while he refuses to let go of you. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”

“A month?!” You’re shocked at the news, not knowing what to say or do, so you just stay there while letting the information sink in. The silence is broken by Bucky after a minute.

“I’m sorry about your roses… I tried to keep them alive, but…” He looks around with a hopeless expression. “I failed you.”

Your heart breaks a little. Does he really think he failed you?

You take a deep breath, then close your eyes and when you open them again a second later everything’s back to normal. The roses are as beautiful as ever, the gazebo just as majestic. It’s like nothing ever happened.

Bucky looks around in awe when he feels you take his chin and you make him look at you.

“You could never fail me.” You say firmly, wanting him to understand you mean it. You look at the cuts around his face and you can’t help the guilt and pain that you feel deep within you. “I’m sorry…”

“It wasn’t your fault.” It’s like Bucky can read your thoughts, he knows all you can see are your faults, and he wants you to know he doesn’t blame you for anything. “You weren’t even conscious. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I never wanted to be one of the people that hurt you…” Your voice is a whisper as a tear escapes you. “The world hurt you so much already… I never wanted to be part of that. You don’t deserve it.”

Bucky frowns. He feels like he’s heard those words, but where? No, he didn’t hear them. He read them. He read them in your diary, where you wrote about the man you’re in love with. Could it be possible?

Could I be him?

“It’s me…” He says lower than a whisper, his eyes locked on yours, and it’s your time to be confused now.

“What?” You ask him with a frown while wiping your cheeks.

“It’s me you’re in love with.” His voice is a little louder, but firm. He’s not asking you, he’s making a statement.

Your eyes widen in surprise, you almost take your hands away from his but his hold prevents you from doing that.

“I-I… What?” Is all you can bring yourself to say, confused as to why he’s so sure of it. Are you really that transparent?

“I read your diary…” Bucky says, guilt written all over his face, but at least he’s owning up to it. “You wrote about the man you love… and you wrote the same thing you just told me. It’s me, isn’t it? You love me back?” His voice is more hopeful now, his confident demeanor weavering.

“You… You read my diary?” You say, your mind still playing catch up.

It’s only a moment later that you register the ‘love me back’ and you don’t give him a chance to apologize or justify himself before you’re speaking again. “You love me?!”

Bucky hesitates a moment but nods firmly. “I love you, doll. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”

You feel like someone punched you and all the air has left your body. You have no idea what to say, so you don’t say anything.

Instead you lean in and kiss him.

Bucky wastes no time kissing you back, but a thought pops into his mind and he reluctantly pulls back. “What about your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” You frown again, having no idea what he’s talking about. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t?” Bucky feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he pulls you to straddle him. “What about the guy you went on a few dates with?”

You narrow your eyes at him but decide to table the conversation about how he knows that for another time, so you smile at him and decide to just be honest with him.

“Do you honestly think that anyone could ever measure up to you? Because if you do, you’re an idiot.” Bucky grins and kisses you again.

Maybe he is an idiot. But when he’s the idiot you’re in love with, how much of an idiot can he really be?

It looks like he can be him after all.

985 notes · View notes

arkhammaid · 2 months

Text

— ˚₊‧⁺˖THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE GRID'S REACTION

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. the grid reacts to the news!

content warnings. some drivers are acting like assholes, some cursewords, 23!grid

notes. have another reaction chapter hehe

daniel ricciardo Guys

Guys wake up

IT'S IMPORTANT

lando norris ???

daniel it's 5am, why are you spamming rn

carlos sainz It's summer break, why can't you all shut up for once

daniel ricciardo Did no one see the news? Stark is coming to F1

carlos sainz To a race?

daniel ricciardo No you shithead, he's making a team

charles leclerc !!!!

lando norris at this point you'll never win monaco (because once stark joins, there no longer will BE monaco) charles leclerc Fuck you, nowins

daniel ricciardo This is serious... Tony fucking Stark wants to create an F1 team for the next season. @/max verstappen your winning streak will be over

charles leclerc Next season??? I thought for 26?

lewis hamilton Of course he would do that

charles leclerc Lewis, explain?? daniel ricciardo Yeah Lewis, please explain?

lewis hamilton Did any of you ever meet Tony? He will probably see the next season as test for the 2026 season. To train his mechanics and engineers and go all out. I bet many are saying it's a waste of money

carlos sainz It is a waste of money.

daniel ricciardo Yeah, they do. Reactions vary but 'experts' are saying that Tony is just wasting his time and should properly prepare for 26

lewis hamilton Knowing him, he already has a fully built car for 2026 and it's a beast.

fernando alonso Only the best for his daughter!

charles leclerc What. lando norris wdym his daughter??

george russell Why are you all awake at this bloody hour?

kevin magnussen Read the room. Everyone is in schock.

sergio perez Stupid. She will fail like every woman in motorsport with a rich father. Too dramatic.

lando norris i'm still confused???

oscar piastri Tony Stark has three children. Harley Keener-Stark, Y/n L/n-Stark, Peter Parker-Stark. Y/n is his only biological child and currently racing in Formula 3. She won Formula 4 last year.

charles leclerc I thought he only had sons?? When did Y/n appear? oscar piastri She 'appeared' the first time in January this year as Tony's daughter, no one knew before. lando norris how did you know? oscar piastri Google exists.

carlos sainz So daddy's money... great.

max verstappen I swear to god I will leave this chat the next time you all decide to fucking gossip at 6am like old women

daniel ricciardo It's important news!

max verstappen No it's not. Stark will be in F1 for a few years maximum and then leave again. It will pass

daniel ricciardo @/lewis hamilton you here? Don't you have anything else to add??

Fine, I'll guess I just ask the rest of the grid, you fucking bore.

daniel ricciardo @/everyone wakey wakey, it's time to wake up and talk!

mick schumacher Daniel? What's up?

george russell Ignore him. He has been annoying us because Tony Stark is coming to F1 and no one really cares. charles leclerc Lies and slander! I care!! lando norris yeah! me as well, idk what you're yapping abt

carlos sainz It's bullshit.

arthur leclerc Why do I have a bad feeling about Monaco...

ollie bearman THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN THINKING bianca bustamante It will be something for sure

lance stroll Well, I'm just happy to see another friendly face at the paddock :)

carlos sainz Of course you know Stark.

lance stroll You're just jealous esteban ocon As am I??? I'm your best friend AND MY BEST FRIEND HAS THE POTENTIAL OF KNOWING SPIDER-MAN???? AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME???????

daniel ricciardo I want everyone who knows anything related to Stark to immediately share with us because Lewis is ignoring me and I need to know. The only info we have right now, is that Stark will make a F1 team and that's it. I refuse to believe that's it. So, @/mick schumacher @/lance stroll spill the beans.

mick schumacher He didn't say anything last time I saw him, so I can't help you much.

lance stroll I know nothing, ask my dad.

daniel ricciardo I don't believe you.

pato o'ward If they say they don't know anything, then they don't? I don't know what's the problem, just wait for the next press release

max verstappen Do you even know Daniel. He's unable to wait for gossip. And he classifies this as gossip

daniel ricciardo Gee, thanks, feeling the love here

nico hülkenberg I wake up to 100+ notifications, why are you all like this?

kevin magnussen They're all idiots.

kevin magnussen @/tony stark could you please speed up with the press release? Daniel is setting all grid chats on fire and it's not funny anymore.

y/n stark ha, weak ass bitch kevin magnussen Watch your mouth missy

tony stark Should I tag Seb in a Tweet to announce it?

peter stark do it y/n stark do it harley stark do it

pepper potts-stark Don't do it. We will proceed with the plan. No matter how annoying the people in your private life are.

kevin magnussen Yes, ma'am, sorry for asking.

sebastian vettel I deserve more than a Tweet at 10am.

y/n stark speak your truth king peter stark sorry for suggesting otherwise (@/yn stark stop being such an attention seeker, we all know seb loves charles the most) y/n stark but charles is not here rn is he?

daniel ricciardo @/kevin magnussen EXPLAIN YOURSELF?!

carlos sainz What is going on now...

charles leclerc KMAG FOR STARK???? I didn't put this on my bingo card, now I lost 100 bucks. Fuck you Kevin

arthur leclerc Pay up bitch

oscar piastri Well done, man

nico hülkenberg And so he leaves he burning, ever sinking ship... the true hero- sorry, I meant coward

daniel ricciardo @/kevin magnussen I KNOW YOU'RE ONLINE YOU COWARD, COME HERE

I just want to talk to you

kevin magnussen No.

*kevin magnussen has left the chat*

fernando alonso There is your answer

several people are typing...

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel, @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @minkyungseokie , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles, @fangirl-dot-com , @nichmeddar , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikfigueiredo , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora, @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 @greeneyesandsunshine , @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @woozarts , @leclucklerc , @yl90

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST? please leave a comment on this post or send a non anonymous ask!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 scenario #f1 x female reader #f1 female driver #fem!driver #female driver #kevin magnussen x reader #tony stark x reader #peter parker x reader #harley keener x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #f1 imagine #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ lightning on track

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lovelettersforthedamned · 3 months

Note

ugh I love the way you write frat Peter <3333 am thinking of how he would react when his frat brothers flirt with his girl jus to rile him up - ❄️❄️

A Little Reminder

--genre: fluff, slight smut, MINORS DNI.

--pairing: frat!tasm!peter parker x f!reader

--word count: 1.4k

--warnings: language, kisses, slight smut, mention of hickeys, fluff!!!

love this request! i have something similar (more angsty) if you want more, "Let Me Be There, Let Me Be Yours".

You were drained, to say the least. Your last lecture wiped you out, followed by a tutoring session to bring up your plummeting English Literature grade. Peter’s the one to blame for that one. Sure, you scheduled an early morning class knowing that it would be hard to get there, but Peter keeping you hostage in bed also didn’t help.

As you walk back to your apartment, you’re mentally cursing him knowing that you’ll realistically not do anything about it. With your headphones blocking out the world around you, your only goal was to get home and to Peter. Your bed calls out for you.

Switching songs, an arm is suddenly wrapped around your shoulders, making you jump out of your skin. Pulling off one side of your headphones, you look towards the person whose arm is around you, finding one of Peter’s frat brothers grinning widely at you. You barely have time to deal with whatever is going on, but still decide to play along not to seem rude, “Bryce, what the fuck is going on?”

“Oh nothing,” he replied nonchalantly, his arm still on your shoulders, “ just walking you home, that’s all.” His tone still holds one of a joke, but now that you’re approaching your apartment he still doesn’t give up.

You can’t help but laugh and scoff, you wonder how long he’ll keep this up. Ducking out of his hold, you stand in front of him, “I didn’t ask you to do that, but thank you so much for your generosity, Bryce. Your heart must be so so big!” You bring a hand up to his shoulder and pat it a few times, “I’ll make sure to tell Pete about this. Just to let him know how caring you are.”

“You do that, (Y/N)! I cannot wait to hear back from him,” his smile is wide still, but sarcasm drips off of his tongue.

You start to walk up the stairs to your building, waving Bryce goodbye as you giggle to yourself. He’s going to get an earful the next time he sees Peter.

****

“Hi, Pete! I’m home,” you call out as you close and lock the door behind you. It doesn’t take long before you hear heavy footsteps approach you from the bedroom, Peter’s disheveled state greeting you. He’s shirtless, his boxers the only thing on his body, but you’re not complaining. Peter’s even wearing his glasses, which is a rarity recently. You’ve noticed he only wears them around you.

As he approaches you, he takes your school bag and your headphones, placing them on the couch before he envelopes you in a bone-crushing hug. You breathe in his scent, the natural musk combined with his body wash makes you melt. Your ear is placed directly on his heart, the rhythmic beat acting as a lullaby. You look up at him again, craving to see him in his glasses again to see that he’s already looking at you. You stand on your toes to reach his lips, catching him off guard in a kiss that he quickly gets accustomed to. His lips are slightly chapped.

Pulling away he sighs, giving your lips one more quick peck, “How was class, bug?” Brushing a piece of hair that fell into your eyes away, he holds the side of your face.

“It was long and boring,” you close your eyes, the mere thought of it reeling in another wave of exhaustion, “but guess who I ran into on the way home?” You pull away from his hold to walk over to the kitchen, Peter following loosely behind you. There are a few beats of silence as he goes through the list of who it could be, but he soon gives up with a sigh. “Bryce fucking Quinn,” you reveal.

He leans against the cabinet as you reach into the fridge for a bottle of water, his eyes widening, “I haven’t seen him in a while. How is he?”

“He’s good,” you open the cap and take a sip, before dropping the bomb on him, “he’s very nice.”

This sparks Peter’s interest, his head cocking to the side as his brows furrowed in confusion, “Oh really?” Your impression of him shocks him. He knows Bryce Quinn to be a jokester, he’s never taken anything seriously, and if he did, it was always because it was part of a running bit that he carried.

You smirk as you take another sip, trying not to reveal how amused you are, “Yeah, he even walked me home! He even threw his arm over me to make sure I got here safe.” You leave Peter to go into the bathroom, the sudden urge to pee coming over you.

Peter’s once relaxed demeanor was now one of rigid shock, he once again followed you. “What do you mean ‘threw his arm over you’?” You’re sitting on the toilet when Peter opens the door and stands directly in front of you, looking for answers.

“You need me to answer that right now?”

“Well,” he doesn’t see anything wrong with asking right now, “when else am I gonna ask you?” He’s dead serious too.

Reaching for the toilet paper, you gather a few pieces, “Maybe when I’m not actively on the toilet?”

He finally comes to his senses as he turns around, facing the wall, and leaving you to do your business. “It’s not like I haven’t seen every part of you before,” he adds, before turning back around when he hears the toilet flush and the sink run as you wash your hands.

Washing your hands, you look into the mirror only to see Peter behind you, giving you a scare. “If you’re really worried about this babe, you know you shouldn’t,” you dry your hands off on the towel next to the sink. Turning around to face your worried and slightly angry boyfriend, you reach up to hold his face, his head slightly flinching away from your cold hands, you giggle, “Shit, sorry!”

Pulling down his face, you kiss his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands find their home on your waist. The kiss slowly gets needier, causing Peter’s hands to lower down to under your thighs, hoisting you onto the counter, his arms caging you in as he places both of his hands on either side of your head. Your fingers are weaving themselves in his hair, slightly tugging on it, causing a soft moan to escape his lips. You pull away, his lips chasing yours as you back away. “Peter,” you whine.

He’s not listening, his only objective was connecting your lips again. He’s panting as he responds, his voice breathy, “Yeah, baby?” You can’t help but smirk at his current state. It seems like he forgot all about your previous conversation.

As you tilt your head back and forth to look into his eyes, he follows. His lips are desperate for your touch, and it shows. You grab his chin, forcing him to look into your eyes, “Don’t be too hard on Bryce when you see him next.”

Peter groans as he tilts his head back away from your touch, a breathy chuckle leaving him, “Why are we still talking about Bryce when I’m so close to taking you back to bed?”

You blush at his response, “I’m just saying…I don’t need to be the damsel in distress when it comes to you, Petey.” Peter brings his hands down to scoop under your thighs once again, pulling you up to his chest, making you wrap both your arms and legs around him to not fall, a big smile on your face.

“Oh, bug,” he starts to walk to your bedroom, “you’re never the damsel in distress. But sometimes they need a little reminder that you aren’t theirs to play with, are you?” You shake your head in response, the heat in your cheeks starting to pool lower on your body. “And sometimes they forget that,” he places you gently on the bed.

Peter can’t help but admire you as you lay in front of him. Pulling off his glasses and tossing them to the side, he kneels on the bed to kiss you again, leaving a few marks on your neck to serve as a physical reminder to those around you. Bryce is so fucked.

--author's note: I LOVE FRAT!PETER AND I'M SO HAPPY YOU LOVE HIM TOO ❄️ ANON!!!!!! this got a little spicy at the end and i'm so sorry i have no idea what happened LMAOO. don't forget to like, comment, and reblog. my 300 follower celebration is happening now, so don't forget to send things in!! rules are pinned to my blog!!! ok, ily bye <333

#tasm!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #fluff #marvel #andrew garfield peter parker #tasm!peter parker #spiderman #college au #frat!peter parker x f!reader #frat!peter parker #frat!peter #tasm!peter parker smut #frat!peter smut

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sacharinee · 11 months

Note

thinking ab peter having a bad tiring day and reader giving him face massages and body massages after they take a bath ‼️

pairing: bf!peter parker x reader

w/c: 780

a/n: hi anon!! i loved writing for this request sm so thank u for sending it <3 i did, however, completely forget to write abt the part about them taking the bath together. im so sorry 😭 but i hope u still enjoy :(( about one spider-man kiss and a ton of domestic!peter

peter knows exactly what he needs right now after a long day.

there’s only one thing in the world that could make up for having a shitty day and that’s you.

but unfortunately for peter, when he patters into your shared apartment, you’re nowhere to be found.

“babe?” he calls out.

he strips himself of his shoes and walks down the short hall to your bedroom, only to find the closet open and your work clothes missing. peter skrinks at your absence and pouts, “great.”

he ponders about taking a nap, but it’s a quarter to nine and he’d rather be awake when you arrive home.

when his stomach growls, he realizes he’s gone almost an entire day without a proper meal, save for the granola bar you shoved in his hand before he kissed you goodbye.

as he enters the kitchen, he finds a note left on the counter, scribbled in your handwriting,

“emergency shift at the hospital, back by 9 tonite. food in the fridge, love you!”

peter frowns at your note, sticks it onto the fridge, and pulls out the meal you prepared for him.

he heats up the food and chews the stale chicken slowly. he really misses you. even with your bland food and lack of seasoning, he still enjoys anything from you. you try your best for him.

when he’s finished cleaning his dishes, peter debates on showering. he wants to wait for you, to take a nice hot shower with you, and clean each other’s stress away. but he’s really stinky from work, and he’d rather just go to bed with you. so he undresses and takes a long shower alone.

—

peter’s prayers are answered when he reenters the shared bedroom dressed in pajamas.

“hi baby,” you chirp. you take off your glasses and set the book you were reading aside.

peter’s heart swells at the sight. you’re laying on your side of the bed, hair in a bun, away from your face. you’re dressed in your boyfriend’s plaid boxers and a geeky t-shirt you stole from his dresser.

the tv is playing some rerun of your favorite tv show as he crawls himself across the bed and plops himself in between your open legs.

peter nests his heavy head upon your pelvis and lets out a deep sigh. your palms run down his clad back, kneading the tense muscles.

“did you eat yet?” he tries to nod his head, “yea, chicken was good, super tasty, thanks, y/n/n” he replies.

he may or not be telling you the whole truth. you’re cooking wasn’t amazing, but he would never tell you that.

peter flips himself over, staring at you adoringly upside down. your soft hands trace his buff arms, comfort spreading throughout his skin from your touch, “what happened today, petey?”

he exhales, furrowing his brows, and squeezes his eyes shut. he juts his bottom lip out while you weave your fingers and pull through his damps locks.

“everything went wrong today. everything,” he takes a deep breath, “i was late for biochem, had a pop quiz for psych. not that it was hard but still. i forgot i had tutoring today too, so i'm out fifteen bucks. and we were understaffed for work, so that was a bust. so many mean customers in queens,” he takes a look at you, “we should move somewhere else.”

you snicker at his comment and slide your fingers over his funky left eyebrow, smoothing out the knit and massaging his temples, “yea, like where?”

you love all versions of peter, but you think this is your favorite. relaxed at your touch, devoting himself wholeheartedly to you. he’s embraced and fully engulfed by you, like putty in your hands.

“like,” your boyfriend seems distracted, voice deep, staring at you with nothing but affection, “sunnyside? maybe?” peter licks his lips and clears his throat, “just somewhere safer, nicer. for you.”

you’re beaming down at his face; your warm hands cup his cheeks while you land a long and overdue tender kiss upside down. you feel peter smile into the kiss, exhaling through his nose in contentment.

you keep your hands on his face and gently caress the soft skin as you pull away.

“that sounds nice,” your heart squeezes at the thought as he continues, “we could settle down there, have a family, you know? white picket fence and all. ‘m picturing you in your hot scrubs, bringin’ home the bacon. and i’ll be at home, taking care of the kids.”

you’re giggling at the scene as you chime in, “and we could have family dinners every saturday night, or- ooh! i could take yoga classes sunday mornings and-”

peter snickers at you, “what you need are some cooking classes.”

gasping, you flick his forehead, “you said you loved my cooking!”

1K notes · View notes

yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 5 months

Text

Can I be the helpless victim? (Ghostface! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader x Ghostface! Peter B Parker) Part 2

Hiii! Tbh I wasn’t gonna make a second part but….. why not! Not proofread, also this is my first time writing smut so I’m sorry if it’s cringy or badly written.

NSFW!!, Cursing,mentions of reader being drugged, Yandere Peter and Miguel, mentions readers dead boyfriend, Threesome, reader is chained up at beginning, double penetration, pussy slapping, ass slapping, reader gets fucked dumb, Miguel vaguely threatens ready but don’t actually hurt her,use of “good girl”, possessive Miguel and Peter, SMUT!! Non-Con/Dub-con, Dead Dove Do not eat, MDNI!

Word count: 1.4K

Part 1

Masterlist

—

Your head was aching as you began to drift back into consciousness, what a weird dream…

You let out a yawn as you open your eyes, the after effects of your deep slumber made your vision blur, wincing at the harsh light from ceiling light. You go to rub your eyes, but stopping once you notice your wrists are oddly heavy, and the faint nose of medal clinking rang through your ears. The hair on the back of your neck stood up, the dull ache suddenly turning into a massive pounding as you suddenly recall your last waking moments, hitting you like a freight train.

It wasn’t a dream.

Your heart jumps up into your throat as your breath quickened, your hands start to shake as you begin to sit up, only to feel a pair of chains on your ankles as well. You quickly began to squirm on the unfamiliar king size bed, attempting to pull yourself out of the chains knowing full well all your struggling would only result in tiring you out, but your mind was too frantic to think rationally at the moment. Eventually, your arms began to ache from the heavy metal, and the rattling only made your headache worse so you took in a deep breath and cleared your throat, attempting to use your own saliva to lubricate your throat.

“H-hello!” You manage to croak, ignoring the burning that followed, looking around the room. You felt like you were in a fever dream, the room was almost a one by one replica of yours except bigger, and all the pics you had hung up featuring your (now dead) boyfriend were replaced with photos of… wait…

“Angelita…You're up?” A voice asked from the hall, before footsteps were heard, your blood ran cold once the voice found your ears. You know that accent anywhere. You didn’t even realize you were still in the angel/Juliet costume for Halloween on, until he called you that.

“M-Miguel? Is that you?” You already knew the answer though. Your voice shook slightly with each syllable despite your hardest attempts to keep it calm. “What’s-what’s going on?”

There was a small pause, silent growing over the room as you wait for an answer, the only noise where the footsteps drawing closer and the slight shuffling of your chains and sheets as you try to find a more comfortable position in the bed, it was hard though when your heartbeat was so rapid that you could feel it pulsating in your ears.

“Finally… I thought for a bit I had put too much chloroform on the rag I gave Miguel.” A second voice spoke, making you all the more confused upon seeing the two enter the room, but the confusion turned into panic once again once you realized who it belong too.

“Pete-Miguel- you guys gonna let me go.” You pleaded as you try to yank at the chains once more, “Please- please- I don’t know what you want but-“

“Cálmate Angelita… you’re gonna injure those delicate wrists of yours…” Miguel says in an eerily calm tone as he and Peter walked up to you, one on either side of the bed, Miguel wrapping his callous hand around your restant, before giving it a tight squeeze. A pained whimper leaving your lips as he does so, neither of you had to say it out right to know that was a warning. One that said “be a good girl or I’ll break your wrists” and you didn’t want to see if he was just bluffing or not, you knew now what he was capable. What both of them were capable of.

“Don’t-don’t hurt me! I’ll do whatever you want! Just don’t hurt me- don’t kill me!” The pleas came out rushed and frantic, letting them fall out of your mouth before your brain could stop the word vomit, fearing what would happen if you angered them for whatever reason. But instead of the angry reaction you were expecting, Peter smirked, a huff of air escaping through his nose as he leaned down, nuzzing your cheek with his nose. A deep and almost sadistic chuckle rumbles from his chest, his hot breath hitting your face, causing your skin to erupt in goosebumps. You wanted to move away but your body froze with fear as you felt his hand go to your stomach, before slowly trailing to the side then down, his index finger tracing a small heart over and over on the side of your hip.

“Anything?” Peter asked, and you swallowed down the limp that had formed in your throat.

Oh how you regret your words already.

—

“What do you say?” Peter asked, almost mockingly.

“Hmm-ahh… ahhh…”

“Poor girl, can’t even think anymore… probably fucked her little brain into mush.” Miguel cooed.

Another whine leaves your lips, your eyes roll so far back Peter could only see the whites of your eyes as he continues to thrust his hips up, his stamina nor his pace wavering despite the two of them having their way with you for over an hour now. He couldn’t help the groan that leaves his lips when Miguel pulls you back to lean against his tan and sweaty chest with a hash tug of your hair, your whine somehow becoming even higher. No matter how much Miguel and Peter have been dreaming of this day, none of it compared to how it was actually happening. Your lewd and borderline pornographic sounds enough for the two grown men to feel like horny teens waking up from their first wet dream.

Expect this was so much better than a wet dream, any fantasy, because it was real. You had finally given yourself to them, even though it wasn't exactly much of a choice, being bound to happen eventually, but the sooner the better. First your body then your mind will follow, and if you don’t, they’ll just fuck you till they pushed any thoughts of resistance out with their cocks, making your brain leak away from between your legs.

You felt so impossibly full, how both could fit inside you was a complete miracle, and you were so overstimulated, your moans turning into nothing but whine and whimpers, the hickies they had riddled all over your body didn’t help either. Your legs were shaking almost as much as the bed underneath you was, and you were sure if Miguel wasn’t guiding you up and down you wouldn’t have been able to move at all. Another gasp leaves your lips when you felt Miguel’s hand slap your left asscheek, followed by Peter hitting your sensitive clit with his palm repeatedly, squirming attempting to get away from their hands, but you didn’t really have anywhere to go as you clenched around them like a vase.

“Muñeca… I need you to try and think for a second…” Miguel said to you in between shallow breaths, you dumbly nodded, despite not comprehending a single word that was said to you. “What’s your name?” He had asked, not being able to hold a smirk from forming on his face. Peter only let out a small eye roll, already knowing where this was going. (Doll)

Your name? Why were they asking you what your name was? You licked your dry lips before attempting to speak.

“My-name…my name is-“

Thruuuust.

Your mouth hung open as you let out another whine. Peter let out a chuckle before dipping his head down into the crook of your neck, nibbling at the dark hickey he left.

“Come on pretty, don’t leave Miguel hanging, you know your name don’t you?” Peter teased, before tugging at the purple and red spot. You let out a noise that sounded like a mix of a moan, a whine and a borderline sob as you shook your head.

“Don’t-don’t know-fuck-don’t re-ahhh-remember… feels too good…”

“Fuck-who owns you?”

“You-ahhh- you do! Both of-fuckfuckfuck- you do!” You exclaimed without much thought, nothing thinking about anything else except the building in your lower stomach as you come close to your 5th orgasim.

“Good fucking girl.” The praise was enough to push you over the edge, your vision becoming spotty as your spasm and twitch uncontrollably around their members, their names falling from your lips like a mantra before eventually slumping over into Peter’s chest. Your breaths heavy as you allow your eyes to flutter shut, Miguel and Peter hold you onto you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as they lull you to sleep.

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basicrese · 4 months

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tasm!peter parker fic recs (pt.2)

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tasm!peter parker fic recs (pt.1)

one-shots

blooming showers by @lucky-bucky-boy

doughnuts by @cosmal

girls night by @lovelettersforthedamned

infrunami by @thursdaygxrls

it’s always been you by @backtothefanfiction

let me be there, let me be yours by @lovelettersforthedamned

movie night by @mullthingsoverinthehotwater

pleading through the bathroom door by @lovelettersforthedamned

somebody else by @beatlesbug

starstruck by @localrockstargf

tasm!Spiderman x fem!reader by @moonstruckme

the last time by @delicate-dorothea

the peace treat-y (comes with sprinkles) by @delicate-dorothea

walking back home by @parkerdoeswriting

you deserve all the flowers by @beyondspaceandstars

you’re drunk, and he’s in love by @lovelettersforthedamned

series & multi-parts

a matter of time by @dameronology

U.N.I. by @webslingingslasher

#tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter angst #tasm!peter smut #tasm!peter fluff #tasm!peter one shot #tasm!peter fanfiction #tasm!peter au #tasm!spiderman x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #spider man #fic recs

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buckysugar · 11 months

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𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲’𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 | 𝐛. 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

au masterlist

reader has a bad dream and struggles to maintain a balance between her big self and her little self. it doesn't help that all she wants is bucky, the man she wishes to be her daddy.

note: this my first fic so please be kinds !! i hopes you likes n maybe i writes more in the futures? thankies for readings, i lubs you 🎀☁️🫶🏽💗

you were a lonely baby when bucky met you. you had your family, sure, but they weren't there for you in the way you needed them to be. you'd just had a fall out with your best friend and had began isolating yourself from everyone and everything

it wasn't until peter found you at school, crying on a park bench in the rain, that things started to change for you. that was a few months ago. under the false pretence of moving away for college, you left your family and joined peter at the avengers tower after three months.

everyone loved you the moment they met you. you were so kind, so quiet and well-mannered. just so doll-like that no one could pick a bone with you. they hadn't known you were a little, and they still didn't but they wouldn't be surprised to find out. they all protected you and cared for you like you were their own. of course, you felt very out of place considering how quickly everything had happened but they all reassured you that they enjoyed having you around more than you knew. and with peter by your side, things were okay.

the one person who was iffy about you at first was bucky. he was too scared to come close, to taint your innocence with his darkness. over time, he came to realize how similar the two of you were in different ways and he let his wall break down. he opened up to you in the slightest of ways, and so did you. your feelings of hurt and anxiety still resided in your heart, but the avengers made you feel like you finally had a home. especially bucky.

"y/n, peter, what are you still doing up?" tony asked as he barged into the boy's room.

"we're just studying for a test, mr. stark. there's a lot to cram," peter replied in a tired voice, running a hand through his hair as the only light in the room came from his laptop and the bright city outside his window.

"okay, well this isn't the time to be studying, it's 1am. go to sleep," tony looked at him sternly, ready to walk out. "tiny, you look tired. head to bed, alright?"

"y-yes, sir," you nodded softly, giving him a smile.

"goodnight, kiddos. get some rest."

peter huffed, slamming his laptop aggressively. this caused you to flinch from your seat on the bed, making him give you an apologetic smile.

"i didn't realize how late it was," he spoke quietly, moving your book out of your lap. "let's get some rest, bug."

"mkay," you shuffled under the covers and made room for him to come in beside you. peter turned on the night light he kept for you in these instances before sliding into bed, opening his mouth to say something when he noticed the pout on your face.

"what's wrong?"

"i don't have squiggles."

"i got you," he tried easing your worries, pulling you into his chest. "you're safe with me, now close your eyes y/n/n."

"thank you, petey. goodnight."

"stop! where's my bucky? where's my daddy? i want him!" you shouted at the man in front of you.

"he's not coming back for you. he's gone, you're all alone like you always have been."

"i wan' him back," you cried, looking around through the foggy crowd of people around you. you didn't know where you were or who you were talking to, but you felt so alone and unsafe.

"you're alone now, y/n. nobody's coming to find you. you're trapped."

you woke up to heavy breaths, jolting upwards as you forced yourself awake. you were shaking like a leaf, heart beating rapidly against your chest as you looked down at peter who was sleeping soundly.

"wan' bucky," you whispered through tears, clutching the blanket to your chest. you were feeling so little right now, so scared and vulnerable.

you didn't know what to do. you didn't want to go bother or disturb him. the man rarely ever slept, but what if this time he was? you couldn't do it. but staring at the clock that read 3:14am, you didn't know how much longer you could take it.

he always told you to come to him whenever you needed him. you never did for fear of wasting his precious time but surely he wouldn't mind, if he wasn't asleep at least. you took a deep breath, using the back of your hands to wipe away the stray tears you didn't know had fallen. you carefully hopped over peter's sleeping frame and quietly made your way out of his room.

the hall was dark, making you let out a quiet whimper. your fingers clawed at your neck as you took shallow breaths, wishing you were holding squiggles right now for comfort. he always knew how to cheer you up.

"miss. l/n, you appear to be in distress. shall i alert mr. barnes?" F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice boomed, causing you to jump out of your skin.

"n-no, no, no. F.R.I.D.A.Y, b-be quiet. you'll wake everyone ups," you whispered, staring up at the ceiling.

"i'm sorry, ms. l/n, it appears mr. barnes is already on his way."

"w-what?" your eyes widened, looking around as you heard heavy footsteps walking towards you.

your eyes cracked with tears as you couldn't see a thing, reminding you of your scary dream as a quiet sob made its way out of your mouth.

"hey, y/n/n, don't worry. you're okay, everything's okay, love," you heard the familiar voice.

"b-bucky, you here?" you asked the dark abyss, pulling your thumb into your mouth.

"hun, i'm right here. i'm walking towards you," bucky replied, not missing a beat. his voice didn't sound tired at all. in fact, he sounded more awake than ever.

as he reached you, he heard the little sounds coming from you and his heart ached. he carefully placed a hand on your shoulder, causing you to jump and cry.

"plum, it's just me—"

you quickly ran into his arms and he held your quivering frame tight to his chest. you didn't want to speak, not in the hall where anyone could find you. you wanted to go to his room and let everything out, tell him all your fears and get the reassurance you so dearly needed.

"shh, shh. you're okay, my love, you're alright. i'm right here, i'm not leaving," he comforted, lifting you into his arms and taking you to his bedroom.

he locked the door behind him and sat on the bed, running a soft hand down your back as your tears soaked the skin on his neck.

"what happened, bug? what's got you so worked up?" he asked quietly, pulling you out of his chest.

you made a sound of disapproval before shoving your head back into the crook of his neck, just needing to be close to him.

"okay, okay. that's okay you can stay there," he rocked you slowly. "but can you please be the good girl i know you are and tell me what's wrong?"

you hiccupped, nodding your head. "t-the.. the guy t-took me.. n.. n you was gone!"

you balled his shirt in your fist, sobbing so hard your chest began to hurt. "was— was all 'lones n he.. he saids you wasn't gonna come backs."

"aw, my love," it clicked that you had a bad dream, the hurt in your voice tugging at his heartstrings. "i'm right here, i promise you i'll always find you wherever you are."

"was s-so scareds d.. da.. mm," you shook your head and stopped, finally taking the moment to actually realize where you were. you were with bucky, you couldn't call him daddy. but you were safe, no one was going to take him away from you and he wasn't going to leave you.

"thought.. thought you were g-gones," your voice cracked at the memory. a string of snot clung to his shirt through your cries and you wanted to laugh but you couldn't.

he kissed the top of your head, deciding again to try to get you to peak out from your hiding spot. he cupped your face in his hands, observing your red and teary eyes. he wiped the tears away softly before kissing both your cheeks as you hiccupped again. your lips were plump from the crying, and he continued looking down to notice scratches on the skin of your collarbone.

he'd have to talk to you about that in the morning, but for now he needed to get you back to sleep.

"you need a tissue," he mumbled, reaching over to his bedside table and grabbing one. he placed it on your nose. "blow."

you listened like you always do, silent wetness still dripping from your cheeks but they were beginning to slow down. he through out the tissue after humming in satisfaction. his hands moved down to your neck, using his thumbs to rub soft circles under your ears as you sniffled. it felt good, really good. you closed your eyes, his touch being more than enough to bring you back down to earth.

"you feeling a little better, baby?"

"mhm," you nodded, wiping your face aggressively. "m sorry."

"no, no. don't ever be sorry. you're okay, my baby's alright. bucky's here, you'll never be alone, hm? it's all going to be okay," he pulled you back into his chest, cradling your head ever so gently.

"t-thank you, bubby."

he smiled at the nickname. "no thank you's. now, lets get the little one back to sleep, how does that sound?"

"sounds good," you whispered.

"good girl," he turned off the lamp by his bedside table and got himself into bed with you clinging to him like a koala bear.

he simply chuckled as you looked up at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. he could feel your heart beating against his chest, it was still a bit quick but not as fast as it was before which was a good sign. no more words were spoken from you but he kept uttering words of reassurance until your breathing slowed. his delicate voice and the feeling of his hand tapping your side lulled you to sleep in no time.

#daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy!bucky #peter parker x little!reader #bucky barnes #daddy bucky #daddy bucky barnes #daddy!winter solder x little!reader #daddy!winter soldier #the spider kid's best friend au

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tarjapearce · 6 months

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Crimson Crown (Pt. 5)

Royal AU! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Special thanks to @pinkiemme for this amazing cover ❤️✨

WARNINGS: Mentions of poisoning, awkward flirting, privacy invasion, mentions of character's death. Unresolved sexual tension, Unrequited sexual tension.

Summary: As danger looms in the horizon, a new objective is set in mind.

A/N: Didn't feel that well, so poured myself into this thingy ~ Hope your like ✨

Prince Gabriel approached today, I must say, there was something odd about his apology. Not in the disingenuous way but rather a more sudden and brazen one. The kind of way that leaves you confused.

He apologized, yet I wouldn't like to encounter his drunken self ever again.

Miguel blinked to read the next paragraph.

Odd things keep happening. The king has requested my presence today, Unexpected as it was, he is awaiting for me. I won't deny I dread this little encounter, hopefully this meeting brings me a little peace.

Everything seems to be happening at such speed is quite absurd.

He flipped the page with a sigh.

I've met the king where he instructed. And once more he manages to surprise me in such way I am... aghast. I'm still debating if it's a good thing or more of his political side taking over.

He said I was no stranger. He acknowledged me! I know this might sound preposterous even, but I'm glad we can settle for something more than strangers that occasionally have lunch together.

His words convinced me that he cares deeply for his people. Never in my life I've met someone that shares my vision for my future kingdom. It pleases me deeply. He is wise and I'm glad I am able to have such visionary on my side.

Oh...

He blinked as his mouth gave a shaky and surprised breath. His heart stirred in a pleasant feeling. It was odd and that terrified him. His heart was trying to settle a beat according to an specific emotion, but all of them mutinied and sent his brain into a brief override.

"Are you done invading her privacy?"

Miguel glared at a mirthful Jessica.

"This is the only way I can get some direct information."

"About yourself?" Her brow quirked with a little deadpan.

"The kingdom."

"Oh yes, the kingdom, of course."

Miguel rolled his eyes with a shake of his head and resumed his reading.

I was awaken today by the clashing of swords. The king was practicing some sword fighting with his brother. And now I can understand why he is called The Red King, or The Dragon's Claws in Onerim.

That was definitely a new nickname.

He wielded a sword in each hand. His technique is unique, precise and so deadly if one would be a tyro in the arts of combat. Even though it was a practice he didn't held back.

I cannot describe the feeling he... stirred within me. May God forgive me for such volatile imagination.

His lips curved in a smirk.

"Flip the page."

Jessica's voice made his eyes snap up at her. She was away in her spot.

"You'll get extra patrol."

"Ohh, what did you read?"

"Si si, ya. Cállate, me interrumpes." (Shut up, you're interrupting me)

The power the king holds in his garden is... beyond me. How could he just accept things without looking into it? A bit reckless considering mostly of the plants he owes are either poisonous or quite medicinal. There is no in between.

Peter seemed concerned for the safety of the people that take care of the gardens, must admit his reaction was laughable.

But to my horror, tragedy attacked. There were many injured, but the king concerned me the most. I know his men are dear to him, but he shouldn't neglect himself. Not when he had a deep wound that could end up in a serious infection.

He allowed me to help him. He gave me a chance to prove him how worthy I could be. Hope my efforts didn't go unnoticed.

They didn't. How could he forget about your doting fingers working on him with such expertise, he barely felt any pain. He flipped the page.

Was I too straightforward when I said I admired him? He seemed uncomfortable even told me to see someone else as a role model. He's quite hard to read sometimes.

He's always frowning or scowling. Should I stop trying to approach? Even if we know our duties, I wouldn't want to be at odds with him.

But right now, my mind wanders to my father. He is ill, and I must visit him. Hopefully the king will understand.

Miguel exhaled. His shoulders slumped, and he rubbed his face. Once again the questions assaulted his mind, yet wandered towards your family.

So far they seemed good and they were keeping the promise. The economy kept thriving and so far none had complained of any trouble in the West Passage.

He put the diary back in it's place and left your room. The lovely smell of rich violets had been long gone. You had left a day ago. Nothing had changed except his inner turmoil regarding your safety.

Not that he didn't trust his men. Peter was more than efficient, Gwen was capable despite being young, just like Hobie. And Webslinger was more than seasoned. You'd be alright. You had to.

He left your room with Jessica tailing behind him.

"One day you'd have to tell her that you've been reading her diary."

"Probably she'd end up poisoning me."

"And you'd die a happy man."

Jessica chuckled as he was about to protest.

"Do you miss her already?"

His shoulders tensed and slicked his hair back.

"How is the east frontier gateway doing?"

"Holding up as it should"

He nodded, "Any complains?"

"Negative. The mutinies have been controlled and the leader has been arrested." Jessica rolled her shoulders to ease some tension, "It's the second mutiny regarding a rebellion we've encountered this month."

"Do you think it's a pattern?"

"It better not. Rebellions although used for higher causes, always bring second hand intentions. With enough fire and ignorant people, it can be dangerous."

His nose flared, frustration simmering in his heart.

"Sometimes I do wonder if I'm doing a good job as a king."

"You can't keep everyone happy, Miguel."

"I know. Still I'm doing everything I can yet it's never enough it seems."

"It won't be for those who aren't satisfied. You're a good ruler. And if this keeps happening, we'll handle it. Like we always do."

"Thanks."

"Besides, you have the Princess now. You said she shared your ideals, hold onto that."

"Might as well invite her for a hearing in a council."

"Don't listen to those old people, they are nothing but square thinkers."

"As long as their interests aren't threatened, the princess will be alright."

"We gotta see her temper as well. Oh! can you imagine her being like you? The scandal!"

"You're enjoying this too much."

"Of course I am. You're worried about something else that isn't the kingdom for once."

"She said we're acquaintances."

"Better than strangers or people that see eachother as something convenient. Does it bothers you being only that with her?"

"It's not that. Wouldn't want to be on her bad side either. You know I don't trust easily."

"You're still seeing if you can trust her?"

"Of course. That's why I read her diary. Her thoughts are truthful."

"Whatever works out for you, I guess. As long as you remain truthful."

----

Your carriage stopped in the outside of the castle. Your mother and Lucille already awaiting. Peter opened the door for you as you stepped out.

Lucille rushed to hug you.

"I've missed you so much!"

The queen joined in a heartfelt reunion. Peter and the rest followed you inside.

"My dear. You have... no idea how much I missed you."

The queen gave you a kiss on the forehead and a hug.

"How is father?"

"Stable. Come."

Peter stood behind you, paying a keen ear to the conversation.

"What happened?"

"A poisoning attempt."

Your hands covered your mouth and the queen squeezed your shoulders.

"And by none other than his beloved mistress. That wretched whore poisoned him once he refused her whims."

Your jaw tightened upon hearing the things that came out her mouth. Another reason to abhorre them. Not only they had meddled with your parent's marriage, but now one had tried to kill him.

Peter saw you tense, now having a wider perspective on why you were so upset regarding them. Understandably so.

"Tell me she is dead."

Peter blinked at your words.

"I assure you this ain't the first attempt she tries. Remember when he suddenly fell ill by an everlasting raving? The whore had diluted datura and henbane on his drink."

"As much as I'd love to handle her treatment personally, I shall go to see the king. Lucille, Peter please come with me."

Peter gave the rest a sign call to remain put as he followed. You were on your element, and it showed as you gave turns around the castle, like muscle memory.

Lucille separated to go to a lab-like room as you walked to the king's chambers.

Guards saluted you as you entered. Heart sinking at the sight. Your father laid on bed, pale due sickness, lips devoid of color, eyebags dark and sagging thanks to the little sleep.

"Oh no. no. Please leave!" You dad whined but you held his hand soothingly

"How could you ask such thing when you're fighting for your life?"

"Who is this man?"

"Commander Peter B. Parker. From Arachne."

"You've already gotten married?"

"No. Not yet."

You soaked a rag on the water next to him as the damage was assessed.

"From all the things you could've done, was to anger a woman that is power-hungry."

"Please, child-"

"You know how that... Sarina is."

"She's just angered, but she will come to me. I know so. This is just a quarrel -"

"Father."

Your voice was stern, laced with anger, yet you kept wiping his sweat.

"I'll have her executed for murder attempt."

The king groaned and sobbed.

"In my time, none went above me. And look how things have changed, ser!" Your dad looked at Peter, trying to get him to reason with you. He just gave an awkward smile.

"It's beyond me how can you keep defending such... woman after everything she has done to you. You might tolerate it. But I do not."

You stood and went to the little medical station that was left either by Lucille or another doctor. Hands ground some herbs as Lucille brought a pot of boiling water.

" You don't know her like I do."

"Oh, my apologies dear father, but anyone that attempt to kill me in the name of love must surely be a lovely person"

Peter just remained watching, until you called him while stirring a goblet with a steamy green concoction.

"Hold the king." You instructed as he blinked stupidly.

"Beg... your pardon, your majesty?"

"Please hold the king's hands. I will give him his medicine."

"If you dare to touch me, I will have-!"

"You barely can keep your own head up, father. Stop it."

Peter sighed and held the king's hands firmly. His skin cold, clammy and waxy. Your father whined like a child as you made him swallow the potion, green and thick drops of the brew rolled down his chin. His face contorted in a repulsed one at the strong and sour taste.

"Thanks, Peter."

The Commander stepped away and let you work. You seemed used to your father's antics at this point, and so was Lucille.

"Now, if you excuse me, I must talk to the queen."

"Your mother refuses to talk to me, child."

You rolled your eyes.

"Understandably so. You can't expect people that love you be happy for such repetitive behavior. Much less with someone that brings suffering. You're lucky if she doesn't makes you watch that woman's execution."

"Sarina has done nothing but to bring joy to my life!"

Sighing you shook your head.

"My God... why men must think with their groin?! How can you so blind, father? You've hurt my mother with your little childish affairs." You took a deep breath, "You're a king. An old one, mind you. Behave like one."

Your voice laced with anger. A warning tone.

-----

As day passed, Miguel poured himself into work. The reports of Rhino sure had decreased, the villain so far knew to keep a low profile, which was odd. It was against the rouge's nature to be so quiet and cunning, unless someone else was with him. And that meant trouble.

Sighing for the millionth time, Miguel plopped on his chair. One that had to be custom made for him, and then, slicked his hair back. Sometimes he wanted to pull his hair out due the strain he was constantly facing, and other times he really wanted to just punch something or someone.

He was sure that if that desperation would be a human or something tangible, he'd not only punch it, but would try to make it through the same suffering it was making him endure. His heart beat faster and he clutched at his chest. A few deep breaths was enough to ease his irregular beatings.

He closed his eyes and relaxed his body. His fingers rubbed on his aching eyes. He had been sleeping less and less, to the point of having random yet unwilling naps and waking up tired and sore.

His neck popped as his spine cracked back into place and grunted like a rusty machine. His mind tried to empty itself, gravitating towards your soft and warm fingers on his aching skin. It was the closest someone has ever been touching him in a non threatening way.

Your fingers felt like silk sliding down his upper body, A gentle caress from the wind, a soothing touch in aching bones. Balm to his bleeding body.

Soft caresses on his face and hair turned real, palpable even. Like if his thoughts were taking shape and were now massaging his scalp with such softness it made him groan. He was surely losing his mind, but the touch was so soothing and slumber inducing that he remained still, slowly melting into the caresses. They reminded of yours.

Had you returned already?

His nose was filled in with a scent he wished to have long forgotten eons ago. His eyes frowned as the too real dream now delivered fluttering kisses up and down his neck. His scent strong in myrrh and herbs.

"Hello there." The feminine voice snapped his eyes open and sigh.

"Leave."

"But you seemed to be enjoying it, Miggy."

Dana's voice purred into his ear which he quickly shook off with a disgruntled sigh.

"I said leave." He nearly growled and that made her stop, only to kneel before him, spreading his legs, her hands roaming over his clothed inner thighs.

"I've seen your new toy. Even though she is quite the looker, it makes me wonder. For how long you'll play until you break her?"

Miguel's eyes darted to her as she placed little kisses on his hands. He quickly removed them off her lips, annoyed, earning him a giggle.

" I know you. You like playing rough until your toys can no longer amuse you. But I'm still here, Miguel."

Her fingers roamed his injured arm gently, but even so, Miguel winced. Her touch felt soiling yours.

"Did she heal you, my love? How sweet of her to keep you in good shape for me." Her hand hovered over his groin but he quickly grabbed her by the wrist. "How long has it been since we had some pillow talk?"

"How brave of you to prowl when she is gone."

"I am generous to spare her a bad time, by seeing me coming out of your chambers. Isn't that nice of me?"

"¿A poco si?" (Are you?) His face went blank

"Oh, Miguel. You mockery has turned soft. Just like you. I wonder if it's by that little witch influence."

"Witch?"

"I'd be careful around her. She knows too much." She sat on his lap.

He quirked an eyebrow without amusement. Stoic as ever.

"Follow your own advices, querida."

Dana widened her eyes slightly as she seized him with an undignified stare.

"You wouldn't allow her to do so such thing."

He shrugged and pushed her off his body gently, a cue for her to move but completely missed it.

"Who knows? I might feel bored and in dire need of amusement one day if you keep testing my patience. I said leave."

Dana stood with anger as he growled.

"We are on the verge of war and you suddenly start being all moronic and stupid over a pair of pretty eyes. She has been washing your brain! "

"The prettiest I've seen, indeed." He taunted.

"You are mine. And I do not share. Much less with a witch! For all I know she could've already poisoned your drinks!"

Miguel gave her a smile that didn't reach his eyes and approached her.

"Is that so?" Her lips smirked as she bit her lips. Miguel took her by the chin.

"You don't like sharing?"

Dana shook her head and gasped as Miguel cornered her to wall, hand still gripping her chin. A grip that turned borderline painful as he kept squeezing.

"Tell me, dear Dana." The octave lower tone he pronounced dear made her gulp, "Do you see a ring on your finger?"

"She doesn't have one either."

"Yet. The difference between you and her is that she will. You won't." He spat. His smile long gone as he scrutinized her face. "We share a vision. You and I? A bed many months ago."

Dana growled but yelped as Miguel patted her cheek a bit too roughly.

"You don't love her" She taunted with a smirk, trying to swallow the painful stabs his words provoked her.

"What makes you think I love you instead?"

Something dern slithered in Dana's eyes.

"I am not in the mood for your stupid games and hysterics. Not now, not today, nor ever. Entiendes? Stay away from her and my affairs." (Understand?)

Dana stole a kiss, leaving a little wound in his lips in the process, a desperate way to mark him. Miguel snarled and took her by her arm then shoved her out of his chambers, slamming the door in her face. Rejecting her completely.

Little did Miguel know on taking Jessica's warning words at heart.

A scorned woman holds such wrath even you must learn to be wary of.

Dana left, her thinking gears turning and moving. Miguel would learn, whether he liked it or not. He was hers. She licked his blood off her tongue.

-----

"I apologize you had to witness that. My father... Is like a child once he gets bedridden.

"Do not fret over it, your highness. I've seen and done worse than that."

You chuckled as you walked through the gardens, checking on your roses and herbs.

"I always forget to ask you, ser Peter... Has the king been always this serious?"

"Even as a kid, yeah. His father trained us together."

Nodding your fetched a basket and then asked for boiling water to one of the nearby servants.

"Was he as ruthless and bloodthirsty as people say?"

"Ruthless, yes. He is when it comes to protect the kingdom and people he holds dear."

"But?"

"There is no buts, Princess. It is as it is."

"He loved the slaughter then?"

"Not to that point, but he wouldn't hesitate in ending someone's life if it was a threat. As little as it seemed to be."

You nodded and pulled two black roses along some berries to then put it on a kettle.

"What has changed?"

"He got tired of the bloodshed. And so Arachne. So we strive for the peace, wars leave nothing but destruction and broken families in their wake. "

"But?"

"We won't hesitate to wield our swords again if we are called for duty."

Nodding, you poured a cup for yourself and another for Peter.

"Sit." You instructed as you added honey to your tea, "We grow these for our women. In Theleria, fertility rites are quite sacred."

Peter eyed the simmering flower, the hot blend slowly turning into a subtle red-ish hue.

"But for men, it's just another drink for energy boosting" You smiled, "Thelerians are avid tea drinkers."

"Not my business to prey in, but... You're to kill that woman?"

"The Queen is. Can't pry away that from my mother. My people found out she is mingled with King Fisk's men. And thanks to her influence on my father, my kingdom just lost a couple more lands to him."

The tea's flavor blooming so sweetly in your mouth. A stark contrast in the sourness of your words.

"I don't like mistresses for that exact motive. Sure, love can be displayed with them, since royals get together to secure territory, legacies and the like, nothing more nothing less."

A sigh.

"I truly wouldn't want for the king of Arachne to fall under the same curse we have."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Some of our past kings have had a fair share of mistresses. And all of them have had a favorite that for some reason, turn out to be calamities."

Another sip of your tea, "I'm aware that such position influences greatly in a king's judgement. Sadly our past kings thought with their groin." Your eyes stared off at your drink, "And little by little they engaged in wars that costed our kingdom greatly."

"King Miguel is wise enough to not fall under such things."

"Not to underestimate his reasoning, but these women are cunning. You don't see them coming until is too late."

"Princess. I promise you, it's not the case with the king. Please, don't waver your faith in him."

"I will trust your word, ser."

Peter nodded with a solemn nod.

"How... -"

"Will the Queen dispose of her?"

Shrugging you finished your tea

"That is up to her. One would think that my mother would enjoy this, be satisfied even, but little do people know is that she is in pain."

"Pain?"

"Indeed. She never managed to get my father's love entirely, as it was an arranged marriage as well. And after my brother's passing it turned worst. My father's behavior I mean."

Peter sipped his now warm tea, for his surprise it was mellow and sweet tasting.

"He shut himself off from everyone. My mother specially. But with that woman, he seemed a different man. Even I was a fool to believe their supposed romance."

You ate a little candied flower before speaking again, trying to sweeten your mouth after the acrid words.

"It's not easy for her to get rid of my father's source of... twisted joy. But her treason to this kingdom weighs more than a heartache."

"If you were in this position-"

"I am, somehow, ser. And I hope I never meet them."

Peter's lips pursed and nodded

"Would you proceed like your mother?"

"No. I'd step away. There is no business for me to do in that situation. Can't get in between two people that seek eachother."

"I see"

"Why?"

"Just thinking. What if it's a one sided thing?"

"I'd need you to be more specific on that, ser."

"What if the king doesn't partake anymore in such activities, but the other... part, seeks him?"

"Still. Why would he keep them around to begin with, if he has no intention of such activities?"

You sighed once more, "It's more complicated than that, ser. I know that King Miguel has had concubines or mistresses before. But it's confusing."

"Confusing?"

"I'm not one to be authoritarian, and I know it's tradition for you and the rest of the continent. But in my kingdom, mistresses are... heavily frowned upon."

"May I ask why?"

"We value, respect and cherish those whom we decide to share our lives with. Adding someone else in the picture would not only make our partner feel unworthy."

You wet your lips after much talking, "But rejected even, a clear 'I do not need you nor want you'. My father was the fourth king in following such wretched customs."

"Do you feel disrespected, your highness?" Peter tried carefully, and your eyes casted down.

"I'd be a liar if I say I don't, even though prince Gabriel apologized. But customs are customs, I suppose."

Peter could only sigh, disheartened. Naturally he'd had to inform back to Miguel, however your words had opened a new perspective to him. He could now understand why you were so upset about how everything displayed.

Still, the drunk habits of prince Gabriel weren't appreciated.

"Wander the city, have some fun while you're here. I am to remain whitin the castle anyways. Must prepare my father's medical dosage and then I'll have some tea with Lucille."

You stood and left, cutting him short before he could reply.

-----

In the end, the execution of Sarina was a quick beheading, once the king had enough color on his cheeks, you were set to go. With a heavy heart you said your goodbyes to Lucille and your mother, who you had shared the past events.

"If he keeps causing you pain, return. We'll find a better solution. I will not tolerate you to end up like me."

She had said, comforting you at her best. Gwen, Hobie and Webslinger had toured the city with the help of Lucille. They carried some souvenirs back at work. You on the other hand, had been keeping your attention at your needlework all your way back to Arachne.

It took you two days to arrive, three and a half to stay and another one and half day to arrive. A whole week.

The scenery had changed, the might and grandeur welcomed you with open arms once more. Calling you, demanding your presence at the castle as red eyes settled on the window, watching from the horizon at the door, expecting; preying.

His eyes lit up with keen interest as your carriage stopped within the porch. Peter helped you out, Gwen and Hobie followed you as Webslinger returned to his post.

Peter arrived minutes later, a turgid expression painted in his face. Miguel didn't know if to feel worried or even more distressed.

"Report."

"Hello to you too, pal. Glad to see your sour face again."

Miguel exhaled deeply, begging for patience to heavens.

"Hello, please report."

"What happened to your lip?"

Miguel's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed.

"Then I am not speaking."

"Ah que la chin-... Mira, Parker no estoy para juegos." (Fuckin sh... Look, I'm not in the mood.)

"Neither am I. So you better speak up. What happened?"

"Dana happened. Alright? Now fucking speak."

"You absolute cheater"

Miguel's eyes widened in anger at his words.

"Whatch your fucking tone, Parker."

"I give two flying ducks who you are right now. You slept with your mistress again? While the princess was gone?"

"Funny for you to think I have the time for that. I didn't. She barged in my chambers, told her to fuck off and she bit me instead."

It was Peter's turn for his eyes to widen as Miguel spat his words angrily, nearly seething.

"You should definitely put that rabid dog down. Why do you keep her around if you aren't engaging?"

"Because..." Miguel sighed, " Because I know what that...pinche zorra is capable of." (Fucking whore)

"Kill her then."

"No."

Peter deadpanned, "You've killed for less. You've killed other mistresses before!"

"No. Still, is not easy to get rid of someone like her. You think I don't want her out of this place?"

Peter sighed and removed his gauntlets.

"Everyone warned you about her."

"You act as if you weren't young and stupid."

"I told you, Jessica told you, even your mother that didn't like anyone warned you about her."

"I was nineteen! I had just been crowned."

"And now you see the consequences of spoiling a pet too much."

Sighing, both friend's fumes dissipated, Peter face grew somber as Miguel pinched the bridge of her nose.

"She feels disrespected."

"Who?"

"My hen."

Miguel quirked an eyebrow to him, confused.

"The princess! She explained a bit of her customs and yeah, it makes sense for her to be upset about Gabriel calling her a concubine."

"She's still upset about it?"

"Rightfully so."

Peter explained the conversation he had with you. The king's health, the motive of said illness, the execution; Lucille and your customs. As Peter spoke Miguel's face changed into many emotions. Confusion, anger, discomfit and a hint of sadness.

"That's pretty much about it."

Miguel chewed at the insides of his cheek and gave an exhausted groan.

"No puedo más. I... No puedo."

Miguel wanted to rip his hair out, or scream until his voice was raw. Instead he stood.

"I'll be right back. Tell Jessica to bring in a new dose."

The king left his office, he'd receive the reports later, his steps guided him to your chambers. he entered albeit unannounced.

"My goodness!" You squealed and quickly secured the robe that laid loosely on your shoulders and legs, around your body. Cheeks flaring.

Miguel turned around to give you some privacy while picking his palm with his nails.

"My apologies, Princesa."

Smooth and supple skin was engraved into his mind. He cleared his throat.

"It's... It's fine. Didn't expect your visit. I am dressed."

A shame.

A little part of his brain screamed as he glared at none in particular for such thought. He turned around and you were fumbling with some things inside a little wooden box.

Your face lit up, when pulling out a piece of fabric with an intricate embroidery design. It was Arachne's and Theleria's emblem, woven together in the richest threads colors he had imported.

You stepped closer and offered it to him.

"A gift for you. I cannot express my gratitude enough for allowing me to see my family again, my lord."

"You did this?"

The fabric felt soft on his calloused ones, he was marveled. He'd never had enough time to indulge his own desires and hobbies as they were long gone forgotten and replaced by countless hours of work.

"In my spare time. Been planning on making this for quite a while. And now that I've finally finished it, it's yours."

You placed the thing on his hand and smiled

"Do you like it?"

"I do" He smiled gently, "Thanks. You're quite skilled in this."

"Thank you, ser."

A pregnant pause fell upon you both. Eyes squinting at the broken flesh of his bottom lip. Your fingers examinated it gently. It was a bold move considering you had only touched him once before, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Are you alright?"

A sudden adrenaline rush came to him. His mouth went dry at the sudden proximity you had created between the both. You couldn't help it, the healer in you always took over whenever seeing a wound.

"I injured myself." He lied and his mouth felt dirty, his heart gave a doleful beat as you frowned in concern.

"If stressed, lavender will relax you. Would you like me to prepare some for you?"

"It's alright. Just a stupid injury."

"I differ, but this one isn't that bad."

"Is the king better?" He quickly segued between topics and nodded with a smile at his question.

"He is. My mother and Lucille took a great care of him. I just added the finishing touches to his health."

"What about the Queen?"

"Oh? She is alright. Thanks for asking."

"Do you miss them?"

"Dearly. But my duties remain here. They will be fine."

"I'm glad you made it back. Unscathed I mean."

"Thank you."

Again, he cleared his throat at the uncomfortable silence.

"Is there anything else I can help you with, your highness?"

"I'd like to introduce you to the council soon, we'll have a meeting someday this week. I'd like for you to attend."

"Oh? Sounds like I should prepare myself."

"You'll do just fine."

"Even though I am scared, I will be there. I'll take it as another chance to learn from your kingdom."

Your eagerness about something new always made his eyes soften.

"I will let you rest, Princesa."

He took your hand and kissed the back of your palm. Your cheeks burned again.

"Have a good night."

"You too, my lord."

As Miguel left, his hands caressed and scrutinized the fabric. Your dedication shown in the pristine weave. A red skull spider like symbol surrounded by a wreath of roses.

A symbol of your future union. And now it was all his. He was glad you were home unscathed, that you saw your family and friends. But Peter's words had caused such effect on him that humbled him right away.

He wasn't aware of your customs, never really took the time to take a look on it. Which costed him a big time of his trust. He had disrespected you without knowing, and it was all up to him to fix it properly.

The thought of Dana touching him made him feel greatly repulsed. Touches that he once got lost in, were now selfish yanks and pulls that suffocated and irked him. Contrary to yours, that not only healed, but treated him with respect.

You didn't pressured him into things. You understood his motives, and how his time was used. But still, after reading your diary, he knew he also had to make an effort to keep you included and not sought after just when the conditions demanded your presence.

Exhaustion finally took a grip on him, he just removed his armoring and clothes, too quanked to even remove his shoes, limbs too heavy to keep moving. The bed under him creaked by his weight and for once in a long while, Miguel followed Jessica's advice and went to sleep early. No bad dreams nor ill heartbeats hunted him.

-------

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#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #royal au #king miguel #Crimson Crown #dana d'angelo #jessica drew #peter b parker #t writes✨

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theshakykid · 1 year

Text

En Route (Peter Parker X Reader)

PART 6

Summary: Peter Parker is aboard the Argo III, the world’s biggest passenger ship. He was sent by Tony Stark to strike a deal with Silver Sable, a wealthy businesswoman. But Stark’s deal will have to wait, as Peter has set his eyes on something- or someone - else.

Warning: Slightly smutty

Why did Peter agree to it in the first place? He could've just declined and walked out. But no, he had to be a people pleaser.

He stood in front of the bed. His shaking hands struggled to hold the camera up.

(Y/N) was sitting on the bed, right in the center. Her hands were tangled in her (H/C) hair and her legs were crossed, hiding the very thing he wanted to see. Her face held a seductive look. And she was wearing absolutely nothing except for the pendant.

Peter's senses were all over the place.

"How's this pose?" she asked, switching up to a hunched over pose that covered her chest.

"Yeah, it's ok," Peter breathed out.

"Wait, I know something better. Come up here."

Peter walked up to the bed and climbed in. (Y/N) laid down on the bed and pushed her chest up. Her hands were spread out, and one of her legs were hiked up over the other.

"Put your legs around me. I want a picture from above."

Peter took a deep breath and climbed over (Y/N). If it weren't for her casual look Peter would've melted, then and there.

He angled the camera above her and clicked twice.

"Give me your hand."

"What?" Peter squeaked.

(Y/N) sighed and grabbed his hand. She pushed it onto her neck and angled her head sideways.

"How's this?" she asked, grinning.

Peter didn't say anything and clicked another photo. It was a little blurry as he had to take it with one hand, but that's the last thing he was worrying about now. The huge bulge in the middle of his pants was definitely noticeable now.

(Y/N) looked down and smirked a little before getting out of the bed. She put a pink robe on and looked over Peter to see the photos.

They weren't bad. But Peter couldn't care less. He just wanted to go back to his room and take care of his situation.

"These are great. I love them," (Y/N) said.

"Thanks."

"Would you like to grab a coffee now? I'm craving some caffeine."

Peter looked at (Y/N) with huge eyes.

"I- I can't. I need to help Ned with something," Peter replied, placing the camera back in the drawer. "We can try some other time though."

(Y/N) shrugged and climbed back into the bed.

"I'll just call them to get it here then."

Peter nodded and waved a bye before leaving. He just wanted to reach his room. But as fate would have it, his superhero duties had to compromise everything.

"Miss Sablinova?"

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waitimcomingtoo · 8 months

Text

Dick’s

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

synopsis: the only good part of your job at Dick’s Sporting Goods is how often Peter comes in to buy repairs for his suit

Masterlist

“Back so soon?”

“What?” Peter looked up and pulled his earbud out when he heard you say something. You chuckled when you heard the music coming through his earbuds and continued scanning the spandex shirt he was buying.

“You were here two nights ago.” You reminded him. “And four days before that. You’re here all the time, actually.”

“Yeah, I am. How’d you know that?” Peter blushed as you handed him the bag of his stuff. You looked around for anyone who might be listening before motioning for Peter to come closer. His blush deepened and he leaned across the register.

“I work here.” You whispered in his ear. You cracked a smile as you leaned back and pointed to the Dick’s Sporting Goods logo on your uniform shirt.

“Right.” He laughed shyly. “Sorry.”

“It’s all cool. I’m sorry that I work here too.” You shrugged, making Peter laugh again.

“It can’t be that bad, can it?”

“The name of the store is Dick’s.” You said flatly. “And apparently, that’s the only kind of people they hire here.”

“Yeah. I asked someone for help finding the nuts and bolts and he asked if I looked in my mouth.” Peter admitted. Your jaw dropped in surprise before you burst out laughing.

“Who was it?” You asked him. “Did he have red hair?”

“Yeah. In the hardware section.”

“Fucking Jeremy. I’ll kick his ass for you, okay? I’m pretty sure he’s like 13 or something but I’ll still do it.” You said, and Peter couldn’t tell if you were joking or not.

“That’s really not necessary.” He laughed shyly.

“All right.” You nodded. “Just know that I would. I’ve been looking for a reason to kick his ass anyway.”

“Why?” Peter wondered.

“Didn’t you see his face? It’s so punchable. Plus, he watches videos in the break room at full volume with no earbuds in. And if he thinks the video is funny, he’ll rewatch it multiple times. So then we all have to hear this loud, unfunny video multiple times. It drives me crazy. He deserves to get his ass kicked. I might do it just for fun now.”

“His face was pretty punchable.” Peter admitted.

“Can we hurry this up? This is taking way too long.” A man behind Peter complained, making your smile fall.

“That’s what she said.” You mumbled as you grabbed Peters receipt.

“To him.” Peter replied. You looked up at him and smiled in surprise.

“Because he’s probably bad at sex.” Peter explained in a weak voice.

“No, I got it. And I appreciated it. Thanks.”

“No problem.” Peter laughed shyly.

“One last question for you. Then I have to help Mr. Clean with his very important purchase of golf ball cleaner.” You said as you nodded towards the guy behind Peter.

“Oh, sure. Ask away.”

“Are you listening to Judas by Lady Gaga?” You asked and pointed to Peters earbuds. He turned red in embarrassment and thought about lying, but you clearly already knew.

“It’s her best song.” He said simply.

“Oh, I know that.” You assured him. “I just wanted to make sure that you know that.”

“Oh, I do.” He matched your tone, making you smile.

“Well all right then. Have a good night. See you really soon probably.” You teased him.

“Yeah. See you soon.” Peter smiled at you as he took his receipt.

Peter practically skipped out of Dicks that night. He frequented the store every time his suit needed a repair and had seen you working there a few times, forever looking miserable behind the cash register. He just never thought you’d notice him too.

A few nights later, Peter busted the eye on his mask while on patrol. He dropped his suit off at home and when to Dick’s Sporting Goods to get something to replace it. When he brought it up to the register to buy and smiled when he saw you.

“Hey.” You smirked at him and blew a bubble with your gum.

“Hey.” He smiled softly at you.

“Gum?”

“What?” He asked. You wordlessly held up a pack of Big League Chew and blew another bubble.

“Oh, no thank you. I’m driving.” He replied without thinking. He felt embarrassed for malign a stupid joke but you cracked up over it.

“I use that joke all the time.” You laughed. “Except I usually say “no thanks, I’m trying to quit.” I haven’t heard that one before.”

“I like yours better.” Peter tried to flirt.

“You can steal it. I won’t mind.” You winked at him and blew another big pink bubble. Peter gulped as you handed him his bag.

“Thanks. Have a good night.”

“You too.” You called after him as he left the store.

He returned a few days later, not that he needed anything. He was here for you this time. He came into the store at night with a plan to learn your name. It wasn’t much, but it was a step towards getting to know you better.

“Hey, Judas Boy.” You waved to Peter from behind the register.

“Hey, Dick’s girl.” He waved back and grabbed some spandex before heading to the register.

“Oh, thank God.” You said sarcastically. “You haven’t bough red and blue spandex shirts in almost a week. I was worried you were going to run out.”

“I almost did. This week has not been easy.” Peter humored you. You smiled when he played along and put his stuff into a bag.

“How come you guys don’t wear name tags?” Peter asked you as he put his plan into action.

“We’re supposed to. We’re also supposed to wear hard shoes and khaki pants.” You said behind your hand and pointed your foot out from behind the register to show him your leggings and crocs.

“I see. Not much of a rule follower?”

“I can be. But not for Dicks. Nothing for Dicks.” You said with such passion he couldn’t tell if you were kidding or not.

“But where else can you find a spandex section like this?” Peter joked and held up his bag.

“Models. Target. Walmart. Patagonia.“ You started to list off.

“Okay, sure.” Peter agreed. “But Dicks is the only one that carries red and blue.”

“Oh, I see. And red is blue is the only kind you can buy?” You chuckled.

“Obviously. What am I supposed to wear? Black?” Peter grimaced, making you laugh again.

“Why do you need all this stuff anyway? I’ve always wondered that. Why could you possibly be doing that you need all this red and blue spandex clothing?”

“Cause I’m Spiderman.” Peter said with a simply shrug. He held his breath and hoped you take that as a joke, which of course, you did.

“That’s hot.” You smirked and handed him his receipt.

“Have a good night.” He told you.

“Night.”

Peter was back just a few nights later. He never actually learned your name, so he technically had an excuse to return. He brought a spandex shirt up to the register and you laughed when you saw it.

“I think you’re single handedly funding our red and blue spandex supply.”

“Really? I’m the only one who buys it?”

“Just you.” You nodded. “My boss said he wasn’t gonna order anymore but I told him that would be making one special customer very unhappy.”

“You told him to order more just for me?” Peter smiled shyly and felt his blush go all the way to his ears.

“Duh.” You scoffed. “I gotta earn that sweet, sweet $15 an hour somehow. Pleasing one specific customer is how I choose to do it.”

“$15 an hour to work by yourself every night is insane. But I don’t even get paid for my job, so I’m not one to talk.”

“What is your job?” You wondered.

“I told you. I’m Spiderman.”

“No, but really.” You laughed. Peter looked down at the spandex and tried to think of any other profession that could explain why he was always buying it.

“I’m a male ballerina.” He said finally.

“For real?” Your eyes widened. “That’s way cooler.”

“Cooler than Spiderman?”

“Hell yeah.” You scoffed. “I’ve never seen Spiderman do a pas de deux.”

“I’ve never seen anyone do a pack de- um…”

“Pas de deux.” You chuckled when he couldn’t say the word.

“Yeah. That.” He blushed again.

“Have a good night then, nutcracker.” You said with a wink.

“Night, Dick‘s girls.”

The next time Peter came into the store, he had to stay away from the spandex section. May was getting suspicious about why he was buying so much when his suit didn’t have any visible damage, so he had to think of something else.

“Gummy worms?” You asked as Peter dropped a bag of sour gummy worms on the counter.

“You sell them. So I’m buying them.” He shrugged. You laughed as you scanned it and looked up at him.

“Do you live around here?”

“About 4 blocks away.” He answered. “Why?”

“Because this is New York. Which means you had to have passed, at the very least, 4 corner stores to get here. All of which sell gummy worms. And yet, you chose to walk all the way to a sporting goods store to get them. Why is that?” You asked as you leaned on the counter.

“I didn’t need spandex tonight.” He admitted as a blush painted his cheeks.

“Then why’d you come out here?” You smirked.

“Because I’m a stalker. And I’m learning your schedule so I can smite you and wear your skin.” He replied without thinking. He held his breath again but was sure you would not find a joke about him killing you to be funny. But to his surprise, you smirked in amusement.

“That’s hot.” You said replied. “Can you cover my shifts for me once you start wearing my skin?”

“Sure.” He shrugged.

“Cool. Enjoy your worms.” You chuckled and handed him his candy. Peter was about to leave when he decided to rip open the bag and hand you a worm.

“For your troubles, madam.” He said, then made a dash for the door. He heard you laughing as he walked out into the street, making it all worth while.

Peter returned to the store the next day but felt his heart sink in disappointment when he didn’t see you behind the register. He turned to leave and jumped when you were standing right behind him.

“Have you ever seen Black Swan?” You asked him.

“What? Jesus Christ. You scared me.” He said and put his hand over his pounding heart.

“You’re a male ballerina, right? You must’ve seen Black Swan.”

“No. I’ve never heard of it.” Peter answered as his eyes darted to the side.

“That was the face of a man who has 100% seen lezzy wet dream scene from Black Swan.” You laughed and pointed to him.

“Maybe once or twice.” His whispered.

“Well I’m going on break now and I was gonna go watch it in the storage room.”

“Oh. That sounds fun.”

“You wanna come?” You asked him like it was the most casual suggestion in the world. Peter looked around to see if any customers or employees were watching before following you into the back. He knew he shouldn’t be walking through a door that said “employees only”, but he wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to hang out with you.

“Am I allowed back here?” Peter whispered and stayed close behind you.

“Probably not.” You shrugged and led him to the storage room. You shut the door behind the two of you and sat down on one of the shelves.

“Will you get in trouble?” Peter asked as he took a seat beside you.

“Maybe.” You shrugged again and pulled the movie up on your phone.

“I don’t want to get you in trouble with your manager. I’d feel horrible.”

“Dude, my manger is 17 and high as a kite right now.” You snorted. “He won’t care as long as we don’t interrupt his vape session.”

“Oh. Okay.” Peter relaxed and leaned against the wall. You shoulders were touching and he realized this was the closest you’d ever been.

“Here. I didn’t want to subject you to using a strangers earbuds so I stole this from the front.” You said as you pulled new earbuds out of your pocket. You tore them out of the plastic casing and plugged them into your phone before offering Peter one.

“They’re your favorite colors, right?” You asked in a soft voice. The earbuds were red and blue, the only colors Peter ever bought. They weren’t actually his favorite colors, just the color of his suit, but he thought it was cute that you specifically got this pair thinking he’d like the colors.

“Yeah. Red and blue are great.” He smiled softly and put his earbud in. You put the other in and started the movie. Peter couldn’t pay attention to a single second because the smell of your perfume was triggering all his senses. He stared at you instead of the screen until his eyes landed on the earbuds connecting you.

“I can’t believe you stole for me.” He said with a smug grin.

“Relax. I don’t do it often. But I did also steal these for you.” You said and pulled a pack of gummy worms out of your other pocket. Peters face lit up and he opened the worms before handing you one. Your fingers touched at one point when you both reached for a word and he gulped.

“When did you take these anyway?” He wondered.

“A couple hours ago when I first clocked in.” You replied. “I made sure to wait until I was on the company’s time before I took them. I don’t do anything here until I’m on the company’s time.”

“So you knew you were going to ask me to watch this with you when you first got here?” He asked as a smile crossed his face. You looked up from the movie and sheepishly turned to face him.

“You always come in at this time. And I’ve always wanted to see this movie. I figured you’d like it because you like ballet. Is that weird?” You asked, sounding nervous for the first time.

“No. It’s not weird.” Peter shook his head to assure you. You smiled in appreciation and nodded before turning back to the movie. Peter was able to focus on it now, but couldn’t stop sneaking glances at you.

“I love getting paid to watch gay movies.” You sighed happily as the movie neared its end.

“You need to make money somehow. God, I need a job. I’m gonna go broke from this store alone.”

“You’ve never looked at your receipt, have you?” You chuckled and looked over at him.

“No. Why?”

“Every time you come in here, I only charge you for tic tacs.” You admitted. “No matter what you buy, I just remove the tag and then scan a pack of wintergreen tic tacs.”

“Wait, seriously? Why?” He smiled curiously and turned to face you.

“Because then I can eat the tic tacs without feeling bad about stealing since you paid for them.” You shrugged. “And so that you don’t give all your money to Dick’s Sporting Goods just to fuel your spandex fetish. You only ever spend a dollar or so when you come here. I can’t believe you never realized that.”

“So you’ve been saving me money this whole time? Those shirts are like $15 each.”

“Isn’t that crazy?” You chuckled. “An hour of my work is worth a single, thin shirt. That makes me feel less guilty about never making you pay.”

“You’re really cool for that. Thanks.” Peter said sincerely.

“Yeah, well. I think you’re cool too.” You shrugged and looked down so he couldn’t see your smile. Peter stared at you with a dreamy smile on his face until he noticed the clock behind you.

“How long is your break?” He wondered.

“15 minutes.” You shrugged.

“15 minutes?! We’ve been back for over an hour.” Peter whispered harshly.

“Jeremys got it.” You waved your hand. “I cover for him all the time. He owes me.”

“Okay, good.” Peter sighed. “As long as you won’t get in trouble.”

“Will you stop worrying about me? I’ll be fine. You need to start breaking a few rules every now and then. Do you always do exactly what you’re expected to?”

“You’d be surprised.” Peter mumbled and debated telling you the reason he was always buying red and blue spandex. You noticed he had a far off look in his eyes and moved his chin to make him look at you.

“You never told me your name, by the way.” You said in a soft voice.

“It’s Peter.” He replied as his eyes dropped to your lips. “What’s yours?”

“Y/N!” Jeremey came barging into the m storage room, making you and Peter jump away from each other.

“Oh, there you are.” Jeremy smiled calmly. “Can you help me ring this guy up? He has a coupon but it’s expired.”

“So then he doesn’t have a coupon.”

“I know but he’s being really annoying about it and told me to get the manger but Kyle is vaping and said not to disturb him.” Jeremy whined.

“Damn, still? How long has this kid been vaping for? Are we even sure he’s alive?” Peter asked.

“Wait, who’s that?” Jeremy frowned and pointed to Peter. You and Peter exchanged a panicked look.

“That’s Peter. He works the night shift.” You said quickly.

“I’m Peter. I work the night shift.” Peter nodded in agreement.

“Oh. Okay. I don’t really care. You could’ve been back here smocking crack and sucking dick with a total stranger and I would not have batted an eye. Lord knows I’ve done it. But I do really need your help with the coupon.”

“Ugh. Fine.” You grumbled and got up to go follow Jeremy. Peter got up as well to let himself out.

“See you later, Peter.” You squeezed his arm before heading back to the register. Peter touched the part of his arm where you’d hand had been and smiled softly.

“See you later.”

Peter walked out of the store with a huge smile on his face. But loud noises coming from dumpster behind the store caught Peters attention. He climbed up the wall and walked along the roof so he could scope out what was going on. When Peter saw two guys trying to pick the lock to the back door, he quickly pulled his suit out of his backpack and put it on. He dropped down behind the two guys and cleared his throat when they didn’t hear him.

“Hey guys. I guess you didn’t see the front door. It’s right around the block under the huge, glowing sign that says Dick’s.” Peter said sarcastically. The guys stopped what they were doing and wiped around.

“Woah. It’s the Spiderman.” One of the guys gasped.

“Why do people always say “the” Spiderman?” Peter wondered. “It’s just Spiderman. I was very clear about that when I first started.”

“Let’s get this freak.” The other guy said and started walking towards Peter.

“Before we fight, I should let you guys know that two against one isn’t really fair when the one has web shooters.” Peter said as he raised his fists. His cocky smile disappeared when three more guys came out of the shadows and closed in on him. The five guys took turns punching and kicking Peter until he laid on the ground in a ball. He struggled to catch his breath and coughed up some blood as one of the guys delivered another kick to his stomach. One of them rolled him over and climbed on top of him with his fist raised in the air. Peter accepted his fate and was about to shut his eyes when a hammer, still in its package, came flying through the air and hit the guy in the head. The man grunted in pain and fell off of Peter. This gave Peter enough time to crawl away as more hammers were thrown in the direction of the men. Peter weakly looked up and saw you standing in the doorway with a bunch of hammers in your arms that you were haphazardly throwing at the men.

“Eat my hammer!” You yelled and threw another hammer at the head of one of the guys. Peter let out a weak laugh and clutched his side in pain.

“Dick’s girl?” He asked groggily.

“It’s Y/n.” You reminded him and threw another hammer. This time, one of the guys caught the hammer and started running towards you. Before Peter could get up to protect you, you pulled a bowling ball out from the floor beneath you and threw it at the guy. He was knocked to the ground as you pulled something else behind your bat. When you stepped under a streetlight, Peter as able to see you had taken a lacrosse stick from the store. You whacked one of the guys across the face so hard that he fell to the ground. You swept the leg of another guy, leaving only one standing. Peter held his aching body as you fearlessly walked up to the final goon.

“Spiderman over here is my friend. He’s one of the much, much friendlier Avengers. But not me. I’m fucking mental. I was trained in kung fu for the moment I could walk. I was raised to be a weapon. You don’t want to mess with me.” You said to the man as your rung the lacrosse stick in your hands.

“Oh please. I’ve taken shits bigger than you.” The man sneered and pointed to you. You smirked and caught his finger between your thumb and index finger while keeping your pinky upright.

“You see this? This is called the Wuxi Finger hold. If I bend my pinky, your chi is gonna be so fucked that all the bones in your body will break and half this block will be decimated.” You told him

“You’re bluffing.” He scoffed. “That’s not possible.”

“You wanna find out?” You asked and tightened your grip on his finger. The man’s eyes flicked between your face and his finger as he debated whether or not he believed you.

“This chick is crazy. Let’s get out of here.” The guys finally decided and took off running. The four others groaned as the got up and ran away as well. You sighed and threw the bloody lacrosse stick into the dumpster before looking down at Peter.

“So you’re not a male ballerina?”

“No. I’m Spiderman.”

“That’s not as cool.” You mumbled and bent down to help him sit up fully.

“Can you really break all his bones with one finger?” Peter asked you.

“Huh? Oh, no.” You chuckled. “I stole that shit from Kung Fu Panda. Those ska-douches clearly don’t have good taste in movies so they didn’t even realize.”

“Oh.” Peter smiled weakly. “Well, thanks for saving me.”

“You’re welcome, Peter. Come on.” You winked at him and carefully helped him stand up. You wrapped his arm around you and helped him limp his way into the break room. You raided the sports injury aisle before helped Peter up onto a table.

“Am I allowed to be back here?” Peter asked as he pulled his mask off.

“No one’s gonna know. Kyles vaping in the baseball aisle and Jeremy went home.” You said and set the supplies you had taken down on the table beside him.

“Are you allowed to take those?”

“You are quite a rule follower for the face of illegal vigilanteism, you know that?” You chuckled and opened a bottle of hydrogen peroxide.

“I’m actually not a vigilante. I’m on Mr. Starks roster. We have government clearance.”

“Okay. So just tell yourself I have government clearance to steal these supplies.” You told him, making him laugh. You laughed as well and started to clean him up. Peter stared at you fondly as you patched up his wounds.

“I really appreciate you trying to help me, but I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“I’m in charge of filling out the inventory catalogues when we get shipments. I can easily make it look like these supplies never existed. Don’t worry, okay? And even if I do get in trouble, it’ll be worth it.” You said without looking at him.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Peter asked softly. “Why are you always so nice to me?”

“Because I like you.” You shrugged. “I think you’re cool.”

“You do?”

“Is that shocking?” You laughed and cleaned a cut above his eyebrow.

“Kinda. I’m kinda a loser.”

“Really? Because I didn’t see any losers out there tonight. You know, other than those five losers trying to break into a Dick’s sporting goods. I’m really glad all the golf pencils and eye paint are safe.” You said sarcastically. Peter laughed and rested his hands on your hips.

“I like you too, by the way.”

“You do?” You asked skeptically.

“A lot, actually. Sometimes, I don’t even need anything. I just come here and hope you’re working.”

“Well I asked my boss to only schedule me at night because you never come in during the day.” You playfully one upped him.

“Really? You did that because of me?” He smiled fondly.

“You coming in here is the only good thing about this place.” You answered honestly.

“You’re the only reason I come.” Peter told you.

“Ayo.” You snickered.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He laughed sheepishly.

“It’s okay. It was funny.”

“No you know why I’m always in here buying spandex and random things. I bust up my suit a lot and the guy who made it for me isn’t around anymore.”

“It’s a pretty cool suit. I can’t even tell where you’ve patched it up. I guess our spandex is just really high quality.”

“You got some pretty cool clothes yourself. Not everyone can pull off Hunter green.”

“Wanna see something?” You asked and unzipped the green Dick’s zip up on had on to reveal a black T- shirt underneath that read “I heart Dick’s” with the stores logo in the heart.

“I heart dicks? No way that’s a real uniform.” Peter laughed and pulled on your shirt to read it better.

“Yep. I couldn’t believe it either. I guess the Boomers that make our uniforms don’t see penis humor in everything like our generation does. I tried to tell my boss that these shirts were ridiculous but he said he’d fire me if I didn’t wear it. Even though I literally hate Dick’s.”

“You do?”

“Not that kind of dick.” You laughed. “I meant the store. If this place burned down, I wouldn’t pee on it to put it out. In fact, I probably started the fire.”

“Then why don’t you quit?”

“I need a job.” You shrugged. “And they’re super understaffed so they give me a lot of hours. Plus, if I left, how would I see you?”

“We could hang out. Preferably not in a Dick’s sporting goods.” Peter suggested.

“That’s my favorite place to hang out.” You smiled. “Can I give you my number?”

“I mean, if you want.” Peter joked as he handed you his phone. You put his number in and handed it back to him.

“There. That’s my number.”

“It’s hot.” He said as he looked at it. He gulped and looked up at you, thinking you’d find that weird.

“You’re such a weirdo.” You chuckled. “You better text me.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Good.” You said and poked his chest. Peter stared at you for a moment as a smile tugged on his lips.

“Would it be weird if we kissed right now?” He asked you.

“Yes.” You scoffed. “You’re covered in blood and gravel.”

“Oh. Yeah. You’re right.” He blushed in embarrassment and nodded his head. You cracked a smile before wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him. Peter felt love in that Dick’s Sporting Goods that night. It was all around him. The kiss ended sooner than he would’ve liked, but it was still perfect.

“Hey, you did it anyway.” He smiled in surprise.

“Yeah, well. I wanted to.” You laughed shyly and kept your arms around his neck.

“And then she kissed me anyway. And she got Neosporin all over her face. And my blood! It was insane, Ned. I wish you could’ve seen her with the lacrosse stick. She destroyed so much store property. It was incredible.” Peter jumped in excitement as he recanted the story to Ned the next day.

“You had your first kiss in Dicks sporting goods?” Ned whispered in awe.

“Uh huh.” Peter nodded.

“What are you guys talking about?” Flash asked as he stuck his head between Peter and Ned.

“Nothing.” Peter said quickly and gave Ned a look.

“Peter kissed the hot Dicks cashier.” Ned blurted.

“Ned!” Peter whispered harshly. “Why would you tell him that?”

“You kissed Alejandro?” Flash gasped and looked jealous.

“What? No. Who even is that?”

“I know all the Dicks sporting goods employees by name. I’m in there all the time buying golf and tennis and bad mitten shit because I’m rich as fuck. If it wasn’t Alejandro, then who was it?” Flash questioned.

“Her name is Y/n. She works the closing shift.” Peter told him.

“Wait, the one with the rebellious gleam in her eyes? No way you kissed her.” Flash snorted. “I’ve been trying to get her number for months.”

“Really? Because I got it last night.” Peter replied with a shrug.

“And a smooch.” Ned added. “On the mouth.”

“He knows where, Ned.” Peter whispered without taking his eyes off Flash.

“There is no way in hell that Penis Parker was macking on a hot cashier. And at Dick’s sporting goods no less.” Flash laughed loudly, drawing the attention of students passing by.

“It’s true.” Peter insisted. “And I don’t care if you believe me or not. Because I know it’s real.”

“Wow. You hear that, everybody? Penis Parker has a fake girlfriend!” Flash shouted in the hallway. People stopped to laugh and point at Peter, making him turn red.

“What? No I don’t.”

“He’s pretending he had a girlfriend who works at Dicks Sporting Goods to make up for the fact that no one will ever touch his dicks sporting goods.” Flash said even louder.

“Oh my God. Come on. Let’s get out of here.” Peter grumbled and Ned followed after him as he left. Once they were out of the crowd, Peter pulled his phone out and looked over your last conversation.

“Do you think it’s weird she hasn’t texted me back in a while?” He asked Ned.

“Well what was the last thing you guys talked about?”

“We were in the middle of a conversation about the best Adam Sandler movie and she ghosted me.” Peter said as he checked the time. Your shift had definitely started by now and he knew you texted on company time.

“Is she working tonight?”

“Yeah. Closing shift.”

“So go visit her.” Ned shrugged.

“What if she doesn’t want to see me?” Peter worried.

“She wouldn’t have kissed you if she didn’t like you.” Ned reminded him.

“I guess so. Okay. I’ll go see her after class.”

Once Peters last class ended, he pulled out his phone to call you as he walked in the direction of your store. You answered the phone but didn’t say anything.

“Hey. I was just thinking of you.” Peter said into the phone.

“Peter.” You whispered in a shaky voice. He could tell you were crying and froze in his tracks.

“I was planning on stopping by. Is everything okay?” He asked and quickened his pace in the direction of the store.

“No. I don’t think you should come in.” You said quietly. Peter stopped walking and felt his heart sink. You must’ve lost feelings after the kiss and didn’t want to hang out anymore.

“Oh. Oh, okay. No problem. I won’t come by.” He said and tried not to sound as disappointed as he felt.

“But maybe your friend can come in?” You asked, making his senses tingle.

“My friend?” He asked and started towards the store again.

“Yeah. The ballerina.” You replied and he knew exactly what you meant. Peter stopped in an alleyway to throw on his suit before running towards the store.

“Are you in danger?”

“Yeah. Sounds good.” You said with a forced laugh.

“I’ll be right there. Don’t worry. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Who are you talking to? Is that a phone? I said all phones in the bag.” Peter heard from your end of the phone. You hung up after that and Peter raced to the store. When he got there, he snuck in through the back and quietly made his way to the front. He found you behind the register with your hands up in the air as a man in a hulk mask stood in front of you.

“Hey, buddy. Let me guess. The last jock strap you bought was too loose you’re back for another one?” Peter said, making the guy whip around. That’s when Peter saw the gun in his hand and froze.

“Oh. My bad. I didn’t see the gun from behind.” Peter said and put his hands in the air. He made eye contact with you from behind the register and you mouthed that you were sorry.

“Why don’t you walk out of here and pretend you didn’t see anything, okay pal?” The man said as he pointed the gun back at you.

“Sorry sir, but I can’t do that. You see, I’m quite taken with the cashier you’re holding at gunpoint here.” Peter said and pointed to you. You let out a short laugh as tears fell down your face.

“Good. Then you can watch me blow her head to bits.” The man said and took a step towards you. You let out a little squeak in fear and shut your eyes.

“Can I convince you to reconsider? She’s got a great head. I’d hate to see it get blown off.” Peter said calmly and slowly made his way towards the man.

“I said you could take the money. Just take it and leave.” You pleaded with the man.

“There was only $36.62 in there. I didn’t rob store for less than 40 bucks.” The man shouted at you.

“No one uses cash anymore.” You whimpered. “It’s all Apple Pay.”

“Then tell me the combination to the safe.” He yelled and tightened his grip on the gun.

“I don’t remember it.” You cried. “I don’t listen when my boss talks to me.”

“You’re lying! I know you know.”

“Why would I lie? You think I’d risk my life to protect this store? I hate this store. It’s so stupid. Why is it called Dick’s? Who is Dick?”

“She’s making some excellent points.” Peter agreed.

“Both of you shut up! Give me the combination to the safe now or I’ll shoot you both.”

“I don’t know it!” You exclaimed. “I don’t even know the address to this place.”

“You think this is funny?” The man asked and took a step closer to you to the gun was pressed against your forehead.

“Not right now but I probably will later.” You answered honestly.

“That’s it. You’re dead.” The man said and cocked his gun.

“No!” Peter exclaimed as he dove towards you. He knocked you safely onto the ground while the man shot him three times in the chest. You screamed as Peter fell to the ground in a thud. You were about to reach for him when he jumped back up on his feet.

“Just kidding! It’s bulletproof.” Peter said cheerfully as he shot a web at the man’s gun. He yanked it out of his hand and threw it to the side before shooting two more webs that stuck the man’s arms to his sides and glued his legs to together. The man fell to the ground and tried to break free, but was unsuccessful. Peter shot one last web at the man’s face before pulling his mask off. He turned around to ask you if you were okay and was immediately met by you throwing your arms around him. He pulled his mask off before hugging you back tightly until your breathing calmed down.

“How did you know you were bullet proof?” You asked in a shaky voice.

“I didn’t.” He admitted. “I just knew that you weren’t.”

You pulled away to stare at him in disbelief, almost looking angry with him for risking his life for you. Your angry expression melted into a look of awe.

“Thats hot.” You said and threw your arms around him to kiss him. He smiled into the kiss and held you tighter, only breaking apart when you needed to catch your breath.

“Do you kiss all your local cashiers like that?” You asked him.

“Nope.” He chuckled. “Just you.”

“Good. You better keep it that way.”

Peter smiled and pressed his forehead against yours as you both calmed down from all the excitement when a thought crossed his mind.

“Did you really not know the combination to the safe or were you protecting the store?” Peter asked skeptically.

“Are you accusing me of risking my life to protect Dick’s Sporting Goods from a robbery?” You pretended to be offended and put your hand over your heart.

“No. But I am accusing you not telling that guy the safe combination just to mess with him.” Peter replied. A smirk crossed your face as you went over to the safe and put in the combination.

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for a bit.” You said as you pulled the safe open.

“I knew it.” Peter laughed and shook his head.

“I was planning on telling you something tonight. You know, before I got held at gunpoint by a man shorter than I am.” You said as you walked back over to Peter.

“Oh really? What?”

“They’re making me store manager. That means you can get all the free spandex and gummy worms you want.”

“No way.” Peter grinned. “They promoted you?”

“Kinda.” You waved your hand. “The last store manger went to jail for insider trading and I’m the only other employee over 18.”

“But still! I’m so proud of you.” He said and scooped you into a hug.

“You know, when they promoted me, you were the first person I wanted to tell.” You admitted. Peter pulled away to cup your face and smile at you.

“I’m honored. No one in this shamble of a store deserved it more than you.”

“I can make my own hours now because it’s my job to make the schedule. So let me know when you want to go on our first date that isn’t in a Dick’s sporting goods.” You smiled teasingly.

“I will.” He smiled back before getting serious. He blew out a breath and looked you in the eye.

“Dick’s girl, I have so enjoyed our time together. Would you maybe want to be my girlfriend maybe?” He asked with a hopeful smile.

“Maybe I would.” You shrugged. “But only if you never call me “Dick’s girl” again.”

“I can definitely do that.” Peter nodded and kissed you again. The kiss was interrupted by the sound of cops pulling up in front of the store.

“Cops are here. I gotta go.” Peter said apologetically and pulled his mask back on.

“Bye, Spiderman!” You waved at him as he walked towards the front door.

“Bye, Dick’s girl!” He shouted back before swinging off into the night.

“What did Spiderman just call you?” The police officer as he walked into the store.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Tag List 🏷️

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cherienymphe · 1 year

Text

Basic Training (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, minor character deaths, 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 browsed the shelves with a deep frown, the sounds of your friends’ laughter in your ears as they searched for their favorite snacks too. You guys were halfway to Florida, the excitement in the air contagious as you embarked on the road trip that had been in the works for almost a year. You could hear Wanda telling you to hurry up, something about making the process rocket science.

“Sorry,” you dragged out, joining her at the counter. “…but I think what snacks you choose for an hours long car ride is pretty important.”

“We’re literally going to eat right after this,” a familiar voice said from over your shoulder as MJ pulled up beside you. “…and shopping too.”

She grumbled that last part, and Wanda chuckled.

“The whole point of this trip is to have fun,” the redhead reminded her.

“In some small rinky dink backwoods town?” Michelle murmured. “They don’t even have a mall.”

The man working the counter gave her a look at that, and you nudged her with a look of your own. You definitely had similar thoughts of your own when Pietro stopped here, Wanda’s brother voicing his desire for something to eat. It certainly wouldn’t be your first choice, but it had its charm you could admit. Everyone seemed nice so far, and you were quick to scold Michelle when you made your way out of the gas station.

“Don’t be so snobby,” you told her. “Besides, we’ll be leaving in a few hours anyway.”

“Finally,” you heard Pietro groan as the three of you approached the car. “I was about to leave you.”

Wanda lightly pushed his head as she slid into the passenger seat, you and Michelle settling into the back. Driving from Maine to Washington to Florida sounded like an insane thing to do when it was first suggested, but the more you and Wanda had laughed about it, the less funny it became. Michelle pretended to need her arm twisted into going, but it was obvious that she was into it. Once Pietro offered to be the main driver, the plans were set.

“I was googling restaurants here while you three were taking your sweet time,” he said, pulling onto the road.

You watched Wanda snatch his phone, scrolling through what he’d pulled up.

“We should see the Statue of Athena when we get to Tennessee,” Michelle suggested, looking out of the window.

Pietro mumbled something unintelligible, but Wanda voiced her agreement. You were mostly quiet on the way to the restaurant, but it wasn’t a long drive. Michelle was right when she said the town was small, and the restaurant that was decided on took no time to get to.

It was a quaint place, nothing too extraordinary or even huge. There weren’t many cars in the parking lot, and the only notable vehicles were two police cars near the building. Wanda and Pietro were going back and forth about what the restaurant may or may not serve while Michelle slid some shades onto her eyes to block out the sun.

There was a bell above the door that rang when it opened, and you looked around the establishment as Wanda talked to one of the waitresses. As the woman led the four of you to a table, your gaze passed over four cops seated in the corner of the restaurant. You didn’t know if they were on break or officially done for the day, but if their table was anything to go by, they’d been eating here for a while.

When the waitress came back with menus and glasses of water, you asked her if there was a bathroom.

“Oh, sure, honey,” she sweetly told you, pointing towards a hallway over her shoulder. “Just through there.”

“Why didn’t you go at the gas station?” Wanda wondered as you stood.

“…because it was probably ten times more disgusting than this one could be.”

You told Michelle what you wanted to order just in case you weren’t back by the time the waitress returned to get orders. You hurried into the hallway, finding the bathroom with ease. There was only one, and you were relieved when your knock on the door was met with silence. Like you predicted, this bathroom was cleaner than you expected the one at the gas station to be.

You’d drank a lot of water since the last stop, and you didn’t even try to hold in your sigh of relief as you peed. Just as you were pulling your pants up, you heard a knock on the door, and you hurried to button them and wash your hands.

“I’ll be out in a second,” you called.

With one last look in the mirror, noting that car ride sleep was doing more wonders than sleeping in your own bed, you opened the door.

You were startled by the sight of one of the cops you’d seen earlier. You blinked at the sight of him, noting how boyish he looked up close. He seemed just as taken aback by you, although why, you didn’t know. You had the stray thought of wondering if he was even old enough to be a cop, and you shook it away. You knew guys from back who started making moves to be one the second they turned eighteen.

“Sorry,” you apologized for almost running into him. “It’s all yours.”

You sent him a polite smile, the smile dropping some when he didn’t really…move. A few seconds passed of him just looking at you, and after some time, he finally blinked himself, shaking his head. You noticed some strands of his dark hair move with the action.

“Sorry.”

Now, it was his turn to apologize.

“I shouldn’t have been standing that close,” he said, finally moving out of your way so you could walk out. “Enjoy your food.”

You sent him another polite smile at that, returning to the table. Pietro told you that they’d ordered when you sat back down, Michelle confirming that she’d ordered for you. When you made yourself comfortable in your seat, you glanced around again, your gaze catching an unfamiliar blue one. It was one of the cops at the table, a blond man with an intimidating build, and you quickly looked away.

“I kind of don’t want to skip North Carolina,” Wanda said, and both MJ and Pietro sighed.

You chuckled, already knowing why she wanted to go there.

“Outer Banks is just so far out of the way, Wanda,” you told her.

“Yes, but it’s a road trip,” she quietly whined. “The whole point is to see things and have fun. Besides, it’s not like we have a set date on when this is supposed to come to an end. It can end whenever we want, right?”

None of you had an argument for that, and she smiled, almost triumphantly.

“Okay, don’t get ahead of yourself. We all still have to agree,” Michelle said, but she couldn’t fight back her small smile.

“…but I’m driving,” the only man of the bunch spoke up, and Wanda flicked his arm.

“There are three of us and one of you. Hush before we put you in the trunk,” Wanda teased.

The waitress brought your food over before another word could get in, and you glanced up to thank her. As you did, your eyes passed over that same cop from earlier, the one you’d ran into outside of the bathroom. Your gazes briefly connected, and you had an odd reaction to it, a shudder traveling down your spine.

You frowned a bit as you gave your attention to your food. It wasn’t that weird, you guessed. It was a small restaurant after all, and aside from them and your friends, there were only about three other people in the building. It was probably your own bias to be honest. Men in positions of authority never bode well with you, and policemen were at the top of the list for a multitude of reasons.

You guys discussed the rest of your trip over your lunch, making a list of things you wanted to see. Pietro huffed at every third suggestion. When there came a point where you could feel yourself getting full, you peered around for the waitress. With no sign of her, you decided to just go to the counter and ask for some takeout boxes. What you presumed was the owner nodded at you.

“Yeah, give me one moment…”

When he walked away, you pulled out your phone to see if there actually was any place decent in town to shop at. Worst case scenario, you guys would wind up at a Walmart or something. Google was just pulling up some results when you felt a shift in the air, a shift at your side. You glanced over and was shocked to see that same cop from before next to you.

You didn’t acknowledge it outside of that, facing forward again just as he spoke.

“Hey, Nick! Bring some out for us too,” he called.

Your attention was drawn to your fingers on the counter, tapping them and drawing circles into the wood. You could feel the heat of a gaze on your face, and you thought that maybe you were imagining it until the man next to you spoke up.

“Are you and your friends new in town?”

You were startled by the question, by the act of him talking to you, and you looked at him just as he spoke again.

“…or just passing through?”

There was a small smile on his lips as he said that, the corners curving upwards ever so slightly.

“Just passing through,” you finally answered. “Road trip.”

He hummed with a nod, gaze passing over you.

“My buddies and I went on a small road trip a few years back. It was pretty fun.”

You gave a tight lipped chuckle at that, looking towards the kitchen and wondering what was taking the owner so long. You both felt and heard the cop move closer, and you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye just as he spoke again.

“Our town isn’t much, but there’s a few nice shops and boutiques around here,” he said, making you look at him in wonder.

“Oh?’

“Yeah,” he said, pulling out a pen and paper. “I’d hate for you to leave here with a bad impression.”

He chuckled, and you eventually joined in.

“We need you to come back. How else will we make any money?”

“Right,” you lightly said with a smile.

You took the list from him with a thanks, and he held it for a few seconds longer than necessary before finally letting go. You folded it up as he introduced himself.

“Peter,” he said, holding out his hand.

You hesitated, eyeing the appendage for some reason.

Peter seemed nice enough, maybe overly so, but again. That was probably just your own bias. Besides, even if he was a little strange to you, you would never see him again. You guys would be leaving in a few hours and heading further south. On the off chance that you did ever come back to visit, the chances of running into this same cop were low.

You gently shook his hand, introducing yourself too.

The owner finally returned then, bringing a bunch of carryout boxes with extra to keep at the counter. You took a few, thanking him and leaving the man Peter without another word. Your friends were in a discussion about Pietro’s ex-girlfriend when you returned. You told them about a list of shops in town as they packed up their food.

“That cop told me,” you told Wanda once she asked, walking outside. “The youngest one.”

You didn’t think of him again once you were in the car and driving down the street. Wanda was happy with the suggestions, finding at least two things at every shop. You and Michelle stopped for ice cream while Wanda went into some mom-and-pop pharmacy. Pietro was by the car and on his phone. While Michelle complimented the chocolate mint she got, you glanced up and caught sight of a cop car slowly passing by.

You only gave it a second glance when you recognized the cop in the passenger seat as the same blond from the restaurant. You frowned a bit, Michelle’s words fading to the background. You reminded yourself that it was a small town, and while the police department back home had hundreds of cops, the one here maybe had a total of fifteen. It was probably normal here to see the same cop several times in the same day.

You and Michelle met Wanda back in the car, Pietro telling you guys to get a move on. You were texting your mom, telling her you guys were on the road again as Pietro started the car. You loved her, but she worried too much, and while you didn’t mind placating her and keeping her up to date on where you were, it still made you roll your eyes.

After eating and walking around for a bit, you could feel yourself getting sleepy. It was to be expected. All of that combined with the smooth drive was really doing you in. Wanda and Michelle’s conversation became nothing more than a soft hum, and you were drifting more and more, but you knew Pietro hadn’t been driving long when you felt him starting to slow down.

You didn’t think a thing of it at first, not until you heard him curse anyway.

“What’s wrong?” Michelle wondered.

“The engine is cutting out,” you heard him say. “There’s…the gas. It’s gone.”

You opened your eyes at that, peeling them open just as the car came to a complete stop on the side of the road. You blinked, rubbing them and sitting up.

“What?” you heard Wanda say.

“Didn’t you just get gas?” you wondered.

“Yeah,” Pietro scoffed. “What the hell…?”

He tried to start the car a few more times with no luck, and only then was that when you started to get worried. When the twins got out of the car, you followed with a frown. Michelle poked her head out of the window as Pietro popped the hood.

“We had a full tank and then suddenly it just dropped,” he said from under the hood. “It has to be the fuel line…”

Wanda leaned against the car, and you pulled out your phone. You started texting your mom, and after a while of it not going through, you realized you must be on a bad stretch of road. You were holding your phone high as Pietro tried to figure out what was going on with the car. Wanda was trying to make a call too, and you’d just dropped your arm in frustration when the sound of a car reached your ears.

“Someone’s coming. Maybe we can get them to call someone or bring us some gas,” you suggested.

As the car appeared at the top of the hill, you realized it was a cop car. You weren’t sure if you should feel relieved about that, and you sank your teeth into your lip. Without even needing to flag them down, it started to slow, and you moved closer to the rental as it stopped right behind it.

You didn’t really know how to feel when a familiar face rose out of the passenger seat.

It was the same cop from the restaurant.

Peter.

The one who rose out of the driver’s seat was at the restaurant too. You remembered him, skin dark and hair cut low, and you wrung your hands together, frown deepening. You wondered how many coincidences became weird, became something that was no longer a coincidence.

“Hey,” Peter waved to you, that friendly smile on his pink lips.

You could feel your friends’ eyes on you, and you sent the cop a tight smile.

“Hi,” you nervously breathed.

“Car trouble?” he wondered, moving closer.

His partner lingered by the cop car…watching. You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling weird all of a sudden, and you glanced over your shoulder. Pietro was peering from around the hood, and Michelle had gotten out of the car, now.

“Yeah,” you finally answered. “We think it’s the engine or…something. One minute we had a near full tank of gas and then nothing.”

You shrugged as he neared the front of the car, peering under the hood. You glanced back at the other cop nervously, unable to help feeling like something was off. Peter didn’t remain under the hood for long, straightening and sending a nod to his partner. You heard the other man speak into his radio, and Wanda spoke up.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re just going to give you guys a ride back to town,” Peter said, and that didn’t relieve you.

“What about the car?” Michelle wondered.

“We’ll get someone to come and get and take it to a shop,” the other cop finally spoke up.

All four of you looked at each other. You still didn’t know what exactly was wrong with it, so it made sense to have it looked at, but this was definitely putting a dent in your plans. Not to mention how off this all still felt to you.

“There’s four of us,” you commented. “Honestly, if you could just call for a tow…”

“Well, that’s why I called for backup. That way we can give everyone a ride,” the other cop replied.

You looked to your friends, trying to gage how they felt about this. This just didn’t feel right to you, but you guys were stuck practically in the middle of nowhere with no gas and a faulty car with unknown reasons as to why. You didn’t want to be the one to disagree if everyone else was okay with it, but Wanda spoke before you could.

“Actually, I think we’ll just keep trying to call a tow.”

You could see another cop car coming over the hill, now, and you moved closer to Michelle. Peter, the only cop whose name you knew, was near you again, and he sent you what was meant to be a comforting smile, you were sure.

“It’s no trouble. Just let us drive you back to town and-.”

“Thanks, but we’re just going to decline,” you told him. “That’s nice of you though…”

You made to get back in the car when Peter stopped you. You were startled by the feel of his hand on your wrist, looking at him with wide eyes, and Pietro’s voice reached your ears.

“Hey,” he called, nearing you both. “We appreciate the offer, but we’d rather just call a tow truck, alright?”

He grabbed Peter’s arm, the action drawing his attention to Pietro, and you used the opportunity to stumble away. Peter looked at your friend with a gaze in his eye you couldn’t name, but it unnerved you, cementing that odd feeling you’d felt since they’d arrived. Peter didn’t look so boyish, now, so…nice. His dark eyes studied Pietro’s hand on him, and the other cop car had slowed to a stop, now.

“I could arrest you on assaulting an officer,” he quietly said, and your heart skipped a beat.

“You grabbed our friend first,” Michelle argued, the concern that you’d been feeling all along now reflected on her face.

“Pietro,” you said, reaching for him and trying to get him to back up.

He did, but you had a feeling that the offense was already done.

“He shouldn’t touch you like that,” he spat, and Wanda was now standing with you three.

You didn’t like the way Peter was looking at Wanda’s brother, and you looked over as the other officers got out of their car too. Your lips parted, chest clenching painfully as your eyes landed on that same blond-haired, blue-eyed cop from the restaurant. The brunette at his side had been there too, and you sharply inhaled.

Something was very wrong.

The blond was quickly approaching, speaking to Peter as if the four of you weren’t even there.

“What’s the problem?”

Peter spoke before any of you could.

“Car trouble. We tried to offer them a ride back to town, but their friend here thought it was okay to assault an officer.”

The way Peter spoke to the blond, it made it clear who was the higher up of the two, and you scoffed at the words leaving his mouth.

“That’s not true. You grabbed her and Pietro-.”

“Pietro, is it?” the blond cut Wanda off, approaching her brother. “You have the right to remain silent...”

“Wait,” Wanda cried. “This is insane, he barely touched him. Your buddy-.”

“Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney.”

You blinked in disbelief, unable to understand how some simple car trouble had escalated into Pietro getting arrested. While Wanda was trying to argue with the cop currently putting Pietro in handcuffs, you didn’t notice Peter moving closer to you until his hand was on your arm.

“We’ll drive the rest of you back to town…”

“No!” you pulled against his hand, shocked when he didn’t let go. “I don’t want to go anywhere. You can’t arrest him, he didn’t do anything!”

Panic filled you when Peter appeared to be stronger than he looked, practically dragging you away, and Michelle called out. It had gotten Wanda’s attention too, and they both ran over.

“Let go of her,” Michelle cried.

In all the commotion, you didn’t realize the other two cops had come over too. There was too much going on, and in the chaos, you found yourself tripping over your feet and out of Peter’s grip. Your chin knocked against the pavement, and you winced. You pushed yourself to your hands and knees, glancing up just in time to see that blond cop reach for his gun.

Your lips parted at the sight of Pietro pushing against him, unaware of what was about to happen.

You screamed his name just as the sound of the gunshot rang through the air, and you felt your skin grow cold at the sight of your best friend’s brother going…limp. Blood had never bothered you before, but in this context, it was the worst thing you’d ever seen. Wanda’s scream brought tears to your eyes, and you heard Peter curse.

“What the hell, Steve?” one of the other cops said, and their cavalier attitude about it had you stumbling to your feet.

The blond cop, Steve, finally spoke up.

“It was going to happen now or later, right?”

You looked at him, horrified, and you mindlessly reached for Michelle’s hand, but she batted it away. You looked at her, meeting her dark eyes as she seemed to have come to some conclusion you hadn’t yet. She looked disturbed, and she wouldn’t take her eyes off of you.

“Run,” she whispered.

Obviously, you guys were going to run, but her hand was pushing on your arm, pushing you away. Wanda was a screaming and crying mess, detained by the brunette who’d come with Steve, and more than you wanted to run, you wanted to hold her. What had just happened didn’t quite feel real, and you had a hard time convincing yourself that this wasn’t some awful nightmare you’d conjured up while falling asleep in the car.

Pietro was dead…and your eyes studied the way his blood crawled away from him. It made your stomach turn, and Steve’s next words took what little breath you had left.

“Peter…are you taking her or not?”

He sounded irritated, frustrated, and you slowly looked from him to Peter. His eyes met yours, and you took a step back as several things happened at once, too fast for you to comprehend, but just slow enough for you to witness.

The other cop, the brunette with hair that brushed his chin, took out his gun, and suddenly Wanda was just as dead as her brother. Steve was grabbing Pietro like he was nothing, the fourth cop was reaching for Michelle, and Peter was taking a step towards you. You didn’t even have time to react to it, Michelle grabbing your hand and taking off.

You couldn’t quite register that you were running, feet moving so fast and clumsily that it was a wonder you didn’t fall. Grass and twigs were scratching at your ankles and branches were snagging on your clothes. Witnessing the death of two of your friends wasn’t something you were able to process, too in disbelief, too in denial.

Michelle’s hand was tight in yours, and then it wasn’t.

You stumbled to a stop as she collapsed, your wide eyes falling to her frame. She was gasping and clutching her chest, a horrifying gurgling sound leaving her lips. Blood was soaking her shirt in a terrifying capacity, and when you fell to her knees beside her, her bloody hand pushed at you. Against your better judgement, you pressed your hand against her chest, but you knew it wouldn’t do any good.

Every cough coated her lips in more red, and you could hear the hurried footsteps approaching.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe, and even though Michelle couldn’t speak, her dying action was to harshly shove you away. You glanced between her and the approaching cops, and feeling like your body was working on autopilot, you struggled to stand. It took you too long to take your eyes off of her, breaking out into a confused run.

You didn’t want to die, and you didn’t know why this was happening.

Michelle’s blood was on you, all of your friends were dead, and you were being chased through the woods by cops you had never even seen before today. Your vision blurred from your tears, and you felt like you weren’t getting air fast enough. You couldn’t hear anything else outside of your breathing, ears deaf to all other sounds.

You had never been particularly athletic, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins had your legs pushing farther than they ever had. Your mind couldn’t focus on anything beyond the sight of your dead friends, fear tightening your chest at the thought of ending up just like them. You thought you were running fast enough, but maybe it was silly to think you could outrun a cop who’d trained for things like this.

You hit the ground hard.

Truthfully, you didn’t even understand why you’d fallen at first. You’d just started flailing and screaming, and in the commotion, sometimes your hands or feet would connect with something. Or better yet, someone. Your nails broke skin, and you couldn’t tell what blood was MJ’s and what blood was…Peter’s.

“Hey, hey,” he gently said, trying to shush you, pressing his body against yours and trying to get his hand over your mouth. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You didn’t believe him. Why would you believe him? You couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t swallow down the heavy sobs that kept climbing out of your throat. Every swipe of your hand got more of Michelle’s blood on his face, and the visual made your stomach churn. You were pushing your arm against his throat as he reached down, and so sure that you were going to die, you were shocked by the feeling of being shocked.

The taser made you jerk, halting your movements long enough to allow Peter to grab your arms. Your body was still shaking some when he turned you on your stomach, and you squeezed your eyes shut, your breath moving dirt. You couldn’t stop crying even if you tried, and you wailed at both the feel and the sound of the handcuffs clicking into place.

“Sam,” you heard him call, his breathing just as heavy as yours.

Peter was sitting on your lower back, knees pressed into the dirt on either side of your waist. You felt him pull the back of your shirt down, a pinch making you wince, and you didn’t miss the way the hand that held your head down was massaging your scalp with its fingers. It was almost soothing, or maybe that was just from whatever was in the syringe.

Your body felt weighed down by more than just the grown man holding you down, and when he moved, starting to lift you, you confirmed that. You stumbled, vision tilting and spinning, and Peter leaned you against him. You could feel his arms holding you as your knees buckled, and you blinked up at him, your breathing shaky. The corners of your vision were going dark, and a few more tears escaped.

“I don’t want to die,” you heard yourself whisper.

You could make out his frown, the way his dark eyes ran over you. You shuddered at the feel of his fingers on your cheek, brushing a tear away, and you swallowed when he shook his head.

“You’re not going to.”

The stench of blood was the last thing any of your senses registered.

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

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