#dark!marvel fanfiction

[buckyalpine]

Winter soldier x reader ft sex pollen

Unhinged winter soldier with sex pollen. This is wildly inappropriate (with some fluff?...) but I thought of it so you must all suffer with me. Imagine Hydra filling the room with sex pollen immediately after Buck is wiped, sending him out at in his most feral state in hopes that the winter soldier will lose control and give into the urges they've forced into him. They need him to breed another super soldier since they were unable to replicate the serum in his veins.

As soon as the dust fills the room, his pupils dilate, his tac suit far too hot, his veins pumping so hard they feel like they're going to burst. The straps holding him down release and his chest is heaving, trying to calm down the primal needs hes feeling, pain prickling his skin the longer he stays in the room. He grunts, striding out of the room and into the night, chasing a craving he has to get out.

He moves without a soul detecting him, until a sweet scent catches his attention. Floral, natural, innocent. Fertile. He's suddenly hyper focused on the thing his body is screaming for, following the unsuspecting woman, his teeth grinding through the pain. She enters a building and he observes each window before seeing a lights turn on, her nude silhouette appearing through the curtains.

It takes no effort for him to climb up the fire escape, easily prying the locked window open only to be met with the sound of the shower running. Her scent permeates all his senses and he nearly strips off all his clothes then and there, the pollen causing lust that makes his bones ache. The water shuts off and hes waiting like a predator waiting for its prey, sitting perfectly still while the door clicks open. She gasps and freezes in place and he sight alone makes him growl.

Pathetic little bunny.

"Who-who are you" she whispers, clutching her towel tightly together though it's not like she didn't know. Tears fill her eyes seeing the deadly soldier people spoke about, unsure if he even existed, the very rumor now sitting on her bed. He doesn't anything, groaning at the feeling of his arousal steadily dripping from his cock, palming his erection.

"Please-don't" She shakes her head, seeing his hardness pressing against his pants, his large presence suffocating because she knows there's no where to run. He slips his mask off, revealing his dangerously handsome face, his eyes wild with lust and need.

"But I have to" He grits out, stalking over to her and grabbing her by the waist, burying his nose in her freshly washed hair, deeply groaning at the scent of her bodywash, "mne eto nuzhno, zayka" [I need this, bunny]

"No-I-I'll do anything-" She trembles, squeezing her eyes shut feeling his warm wet tongue lick up her neck as his mismatched hands rip her towel away, pulling her hips flush against his cock. The rough material of his tactical hear scratches her soft skin, making her whimper when when he bites her shoulder.

"takoy myagkiy krolik" [such a soft bunny] He throws her like a doll, her ass bouncing off the mattress, flat on her back back while he undoes his pants, pulling his cock out. She squeezes her legs shut, shaking her head, his fat bobbing length taunting her as he pumps himself while crawling onto the bed.

"It hurts bunny" He groans, forcing her legs apart, her natural scent nearly causing pain as he stares at her pussy. Her button between her legs involuntarily twitches and he pinches it hard making her squeal, the sound causing a drop of precum to spill out.

His head is so focused on getting his release, he doesn't bother prepping her, shoving his cock into her tight cunt, grunting and forcing his length in when he feels resistance. He stars to fuck her hard, holding both wrists in his metal hand, keeping her pinned under him while he splits her open.

"Hurts-too much-to big-stop-" She gasps out her pained cries melting into muddled moans of pleasure, her own body betraying her, feeling her own warmth wetting his cock making it easier for him to slip in and out. "Oh god-soldat-stop-don't-

"You're wet" He hisses, almost accusatorily, pounding her harder, faster until the bed shakes and scratches the floor, the serum pumping in his veins making his cock sensitive.

"I need this-I need it" Sweat beads at his forehead, his balls feeling heavier than usual, the pollen causing his body to produce more semen than he naturally would.

"YA chuvstvuyu zapakh, kakoy ty mokryy, zayka" [I can smell how wet you are bunny] His balls throb painfully, his cock ready to burst as his thrusts become more erratic. He snarled against her neck as pleasure starts to lick up his spine, the bruising grip on her wrists tightening as he starts to pump her full of his load without warning.

She whimpers feeling shame for the delicious stretch of his cock, her cunt fluttering, swollen from his abusive pace. She finds herself flipped over with her ass in the air, her face pressed against the sheets, his cock rock hard again, prodding at her puffy folds.

"Not done-need more" he growls lowly, stripping his clothes off, his body heat dialed to 100. His crotch is covered in cum, a mix of his and hers, the smell of her driving him insane as he grabs her hips and slams her to meet his thrusts again. He has more power at this angle, fucking her like a mad man, groaning with his head thrown back, eyes rolled to the back of his head, only focused on pleasuring his cock.

"Ty shlyukha Zimnego soldata, ty voz'mesh' to, chto ya tebe dayu" [You're the winter soldier's whore, you'll take what I give you] He's at his most unhinged, grunting and groaning, fucking her like an animal, her muffled screams only causing his cock to swell more. "Make me feel good, make it go away bunny"

"Soldat please stop-too big" she begs and he fucks her harder, making her moan, pulling another orgasm out of her body even if she fought against it. His thighs meet the back of hers, rolling and rocking his hips, hitting her cervix until her sweet juices squirt out of her, obscene sounds of skin on skin filling he room. "SOLDAT"

"I have to breed you bunny" He shakes his head, unwilling to leave until he's sure she's pregnant with his child, forcing every bit of his cum into her. "My fertile little bunny" He nips your skin, running his hands over her tummy, imaging it firm and round with his baby growing inside. He loved the thought of such an unsuspecting, sweet angel carrying the child of he soldier, all of his cum making a mess in her pussy.

By the last round, the pollen has started to dissipate and the cloud is lifting. He pants, still rutting into her pussy, something tugging at his conscious, shaking his head when the lusty animalistic haze weavers.

"T-tell me your name" He rasps, his heart beating wildly, loosening his grip on her. She whimpers from pain and to her surprise, he slowly down, still grinding himself in, burying her face into her neck. "zayka, pozhaluysta" [bunny, please]

"Y/n" she whispers, unsure of why she told him, her voice catching in her throat when his lips press against her skin. She's limp in his hold, the smell of sex permeating the room, the sheets soaked with his cum, but nothing more full than her cunt.

"Y/n" He moans, his body trembling as he nears the end of his final release, stilling till he's milked himself dry, her soft body worn under him. Something is wrong, he can feel it, the emotionless control he had before, slipping from his grasp. He yearns to hold the woman in his arms but he can't .Something stops him.

His movements are robotic as he pulls away and slips his clothes back on, memories unfamiliar to him flashing through his mind.

He wasn't the soldier.

He was-

Her soft snores pull her from his spiral, looking up to seeing her sleeping form, fucked out from the way he'd ruined her. He frowns at the unfamiliar feeling of concern he's experiencing, pulling the covers over her body.

"Thank you bunny" He whispers, making her whine in her sleep, calling for the soldier.

"I'm-

He shakes his head, his previously wild replaced with those of a young man from Brooklyn.

"B-Bucky"

-

#soft dark winter soldier #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes smut #dark winter #bucky barnes x smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #marvel smut #avengers smut #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fanmix #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fan fics #bucky fan fiction #bucky fan fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x freader #bucky barnes x f reader #bucky barnes sex pollen #dub con bucky

[lizziesribbons]

So badly |

PAIRING: RICH STEPMOM! WANDA X FEM! READER

summary: Wanda is your dad's new wife and an incredibly talented business woman, you always liked her but you felt as if she didn't feel the same way about you, she was always cold with you truth be told you were too innocent to know what the real intentions behind the coldness was.

warnings: ****MINORS DNI***** *****MEN DNI***** ****CONTAINS SMUT LOTS OF SMUT****** degradation kink, hair pulling, praising, angst if you squint, mommy kink, r being head over heels in love with Wanda, Wanda being mean too mean but hot. SO HOT. squirting muahahaha, multiple orgasms, crazy crazy gay peOple, everyone's gay y'all are gay, gay gay gay. I need to drown in holy water cuz um yea.

author's note: I changed EVERYTHING CHANGED I don't know if y'all even know who I am but like anyways idek if this is gonna be a thing I just got an idea and I wrote it in my notes and now I'm posting here ‼️

Word count: 2.1k

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Wanda maximoff.

She was an intimidating woman. even her name is hot? When your dad first introduced her you immediately fell in love whenever she was around you were always squirming in her gaze, she was just too pretty too perfect. Too good for your dad. Your dad wasn't the best man in the world he was alright, he was always working always travelling he didn't have time for you or anything else that's why you were shocked when he brought her. Wanda.

Wanda was a business woman too. A successful one indeed, She had 2 twins Tommy and billy, who you instantly grew to love, you wondered how Wanda handled all of it, A husband, A business and still making enough time for her kids, she was like a super mom there was no single doubt her kids loved her. And she loved them.

Your dad was barely home so it was always just you Wanda and the twins, you never felt like Wanda liked you whenever you would try talking to her she would give you cold responses, always looking into your soul like she was angry at you. She would constantly taunt you whenever you would go outside with your friends and come home too late, or when you wore something a little too revealing. Some would say she was possessive you just thought of it as her being her grumpy self

but what you didn't know, Wanda wanted you. Every second of every day she thought about you but she knew it was wrong. so she would put up this act to hide her secret. her dirty little secret, no one except Wanda knew what kind of thoughts ran through her mind, what she did at night thinking about you when her husband was asleep beside her.

she thinks about how her fingers would feel inside you, making you scream her name, whispering all kinds of dirty things in your sweet little ears

how good it would feel to fuck you with her strap until you couldn't take it anymore, she often gets off thinking about you but you weren't aware of any of it. She sometimes thought you knew cause of how you would bend over in front of her wearing the most smallest skirts possible but she knew you were just as innocent as you look, she also knew about the crush you have on her, it was too obvious with how you would look inside her shirt every time she bent down to pick something, how quickly you would respond every time she calls for you, how flustered you would get when she's around. she wasn't blind she could see right through you.

You were always home nowadays as your college was off and your friends were either on vacation with their family or they just didn't have time. Wanda had a business event today on which she asked you to come with her as the twins were at their dad's and you would be home alone, she even picked up an outfit for you, it was a cute black dress simple and elegant not too small just how Wanda liked. She was so sweet with you today. too sweet. even offered to make your hair and do your makeup and you let her. cuz how could you deny it? you let her dress you up like you were her personal doll she gave you a kiss on the cheek that made you blush so hard Wanda immediately noticed and smirked.

the car ride from the house to where the event was being held was filled with tension. Wanda's eyes were constantly on you eating you up she noticed the way you clenched your thighs under her gaze and how you shied away every time you two would make eye contact, when you reached the destination, Wanda opened the door for you holding out her hand to you. Your fingers intertwined with hers following her between the crowd of people.

You insisted on staying behind as she went on the red carpet. admiring her you noticed how beautiful Wanda really is, she is hand-crafted by the gods you wondered how it would feel to touch her. every inch of her body you wanted to kiss her so bad the urge to do it was strong. Wanda noticed, Ofc she noticed she smirked knowing your gaze was on her and all her attention too, you looked at her coming back to you as you straightened your back and smiled at her, she held you by your waist and told you "I want you to meet some people malaysh" the nickname made you weak. you just wanted to fall on your knees and beg Wanda but you couldn't.

After meeting those people Wanda left you alone to go and sort some business deal you didn't care about. Wanda saw you laughing and chatting with some people she thought it was nice you were getting along well, until. she saw this girl put her hand on your thigh and getting too touchy. Wanda felt something burst inside her she interrupted the conversation she was having came behind you and pulled you back from your waist making you push yourself into her crotch.

Wanda looked at the girl and raised her eyebrows, the girl was out of there in a second. It was hot. so hot the power Wanda holds, you were about to ask what that was when suddenly you felt her fingers hold your ass tightly as she whispered in your ear "Stop flirting with every person you see just to get my attention" Your legs failed you as you moan slowly in wanda's grasp, her hold was bruising on you as she whispered again "don't be a whore now, go wait in the car I'll be there in a bit"

as you were waiting for her impatiently in the car and afraid of what to expect next, you heard the car door open and Wanda got in, you didn't say anything. not even a word. her too. the car ride was silent. so silent you could even hear your heartbeat and it was fast. you were sure Wanda heard it

after getting home Wanda softly told you to go and wait in her bedroom like a good girl and you did. not cuz you were a patient woman no no no you were the most impatient girl in the world according to Wanda but you just wanted to make her happy.

after a bit she came in. You saw a bulge inside her pants. looking up at her, sitting on the bed on all your fours she came up to you and held your jaw softly

"you look so good like that, on mommy's bed like a good little slut" Wanda wouldn't be at fault if she thought you came right there, and then because of the moan you let out on the nickname Wanda referred to herself as. but she shrugged it off only smirking at the sight

"strip. slowly." you start striping taking off your dress first, Wanda's eyes on you as she starts undressing herself too making you gasp at the sight of her.

"you're so beautiful," you said as you worshipped her body just by your eyes, giving herself a moment or two to smile and blush at your compliment, she said sternly "Less talking, let's put that mouth to better use yeah?"

she took off her pants and underwear revealing a scarlet strap attached to her as you look at it and drool "Open up show mommy how good of a slut you can be" she said as you open your mouth tongue out, she guide the strap inside your mouth not even half of it and you were already gagging, it was bigger than anything you've taken before but Wanda didn't care, your gags and whimper were music to her ears.

losing herself in the pleasure she started thrusting inside your mouth as you sat there drooling, she threw a sadistic smile your way and said "I think we just found the perfect way to keep your mouth shut"

Wanda pulls out suddenly, your face covered in sweat and tears, and lays down on the bed

"come here ride my strap," she said patting her lap, gasping for air your breath shaky from the previous encounter you said

"y yes mommy"

slowly, you lower yourself onto her strap, your eyes locked with hers as you whispered "It's too big"

Wanda pouted her lips with fake pity "Aw is it?" you nodded as she looked at you "Is it too big for my little whore huh?" you nodded again not breaking eye contact

"fucking say it then. you can speak" Wanda said sternly placing a sharp slap on your ass, just as you were about to say Wanda force your hips down onto her strap "Too late" You bit your lip feeling her strap penetrate deeper into your wet slit

"Mommy hurts please ah" moans and gasps. it was all you could let out as Wanda ignored all of it and thrust your hips up and down on her strap, tits bouncing with the force.

your body trembling as you take her deeper inside you, suddenly you feel a sharp slap against your tits just as a humiliating spit was delivered on your face, spit drips from your mouth onto your chest as she slaps your tits repeatedly

"Mommy too much-gonna cum please" you plead at her "Come for mommy honey let it out" You came just as soon as those words left her mouth, she didn't stop. turning you guys around so she was on top she started thrusting with all her might as the bed started moving

"you know how badly mommy wanted to fuck that pussy from the very first time she saw you huh?" she whispered in your ear making you moan as she kept thursting "How I touched myself at the thought of being inside you fucking you so deep your legs wouldn't work for weeks? it was a torture not being able to fuck you every moment I saw you I just wanted to bend you over and take you" The dirty confessions only added fuel to the fire as you were already close

"please Mommy" you said weakly as she thoroughly fucked you, the room filling with noises of skin slapping together, "Please what? say it, baby"

"please I'm gonna cum again" you say looking up at her, "cum again for me then you don't need my permission"

just as you were about to cum she reaches down to rub your clit "NO PLEASE NO!" was the last thing you said when you lost control completely and squirted everywhere, not knowing what happened you looked at Wanda who was smirking smugly as she pulled out of you slowly and took off the strap throwing it down the bed

"Mommy I've never done that I'm sorry I don't know what happened" Wanda looked you down with admiration as she cooed cupping your face "Oh baby no that's okay you did good it was so good" she softly kissed you, leaving small kisses down your neck to your stomach until she reached between your legs

"no too much, can't." you tried squirming away but her strong hands held you in place "Just trust me" She raised her eyebrows and scanned your face for any hesitations as she dived down and carefully cleaned you up making sure not to overstimulate you

she sat back up "You taste so good", blushing at her compliment you muttered a "thank you"

"so adorable" Taking you in her arms and holding you against her she whispered sweet nothings into your ear through the whole time until you fell asleep in her arms, she looked at you knowing you were hers now. for forever.

#wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #lizzie olsen #elizabeth olsen x y/n #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff smut #elizabeth olsen #marvel #marvel smut #smut #gxg #gay

[fortheloveofleon]

BABY FEVER

⊱ Pairing: Yandere!Miguel x Reader

⊱ Summary: Miguel misses the joys of being a father. He just wants you to understand the happiness a child can bring — even if he has to make you…

⊱ Contents: 18+, Yandere!Miguel, Mean!Miguel, Dark Content, Baby Trapping, Dubious Consent, Smut, BDSM (Bondage), Rough Sex, Choking, Breeding Kink, Blood Kink, Creampie, Slight Hint to a Mommy Kink At The End

You’re laid up on this lavish bed, sore hands clasped above your head in a pair of metal handcuffs. The tough material is etching into your skin, chafing and nipping each time Miguel thrusts into you.

“‘Guel,” you slur out his name, a shuddery breath escaping as he grinds into you harder, “s’ too much, I-I’m sorry.”

An angry mess towering over you, Miguel scowls at your pathetic begging. Silent but seething, the taller man merely runs his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair, panting as he reaches down to grasp your face with his large hand.

Eyes locking with yours, Miguel draws his slick-stained cock all the way out of your tight cunt, just until his tip remains — then he pushes back in, hard and fast, earning a loud cry from you.

The mix of hurt and pleasure is a dangerous one, a welcomed warning that hums through your body as his speed of his thrusts pick up again.

Miguel doesn’t really care that he might be hurting you right now — quite frankly, he’s hoping you were in a bit of pain.

You deserved it.

You were such a slut, throwing yourself at all the other guys at Headquarters. He should’ve known better than to let other men get that close to you.

But of course — Miguel was insane, and delusional.

You had nothing done nothing of the sort, but only made the innocent mistake at smiling. A mere smile at Peter whilst playing with Mayday was enough to drive Miguel to this state.

He’s always been protective, obsessive, Miguel can’t even deny it.

“Ungrateful. Fucking. Whore,” he hisses, each word enunciated with a heavy surge of his hips — white fangs are bared as he leans in closer to you, breathing out a laugh at your dazed form. Tough hands find a home around your neck, clutching.

The grip is a reminder, a threat of what could always happen.

But it’s for your own good. How could a sweet girl like you survive in a big, bad world like this without him?

Your fingers grasp helplessly at his forearms as black dots speckle your vision. Eyes rolling back into your head, hiccuped moans pulse from you as his shaft slams in and out of you.

“I’m…” you choke out as a familiar syrupy warmth begins to tremor from your lower half, “I-I’m gonna…”

Your sentence is incomplete, stuttering to a close, yet it’s whole to Miguel — he knows what you need. You’re merely a finger stroke away from cumming your fucking brains out.

Miguel latches his mouth onto the side of your bruising neck, sharpness pinching your skin when he finally bites down. A sickening blend of pain and euphoria surges through you.

It’s like you hit Cloud Nine — you’re panting, whimpering, back arching and cunt clenching as your orgasm builds and breaks. Sweet, sweet ecstasy fills every ounce of you, and you can feel it so hard, it’s like you’re choking more from the pleasure than his palms.

A tangy metallic taste coats Miguel’s tongue and he can’t help but moan out with you at the taste. “Ha…mi corazón…”

A throaty chuckle vibrates against your skin as Miguel suckles at the bleeding marks, lips leading to press wet kisses. His thrusts have grown sloppy, greedy as he wants to find his own end.

The length of his cock is barely leaving your cunt, hips rolling rapidly with little rhythm as he grunts and groans.

All he wants is you.

The feeling of his body on yours snaps you of your daze as a daunting realisation comes to mind.

“Wait!” you rasp out, jiggling the cuffs above your head. “Guel, y-you need to pull out.”

Chest heaving, Miguel pauses, cock still buried deep inside you. Posted above, caging you in between his forearms, wordlessly questioning you.

“You’re not…you’re not wearing a condom,” you breathe out quietly, carefully. “You need to pull out.”

Miguel is silent, staring.

His fingers slowly brush away the damp hairs sticking to your face, rubbing his thumb over your plump lips, almost like he’s trying to remember it’s shape through touch alone.

If love had a taste, he thinks, it would be your mouth.

He kisses you, soft and gentle, and you can’t help but melt. Pulling away, Miguel cups your jaw. A ghost of a smile lingers, but refuses to show.

Sometimes, Miguel tries to consider the lengths of his obsession with you — where it stemmed from, how it started. He could never find a straight answer. But there was one undeniable truth.

Miguel is irrevocably in love with you.

He’d only accept death if you were the one holding that knife.

Miguel is in love. But he can’t say it. The last time he showed he was capable of loving something, the universe took it from him.

But he didn’t need to say anything… he could show you.

His voice is low as he shakes his head and speaks, eyes boring into yours. “You, are going to make a great mother.”

And God, the way your eyes widened could’ve killed him right there.

Without warning, he drives into your heat faster than ever, frantic and filled with a purpose once more.

“Miguel, please wait!” you whimper out.

The headboard bangs and creaks, slamming against the wall as fucks you faster than before. Every nerve of yours is aflame, overstimulated from the wave of your orgasm. Your mouth is agape, eyes tearing and Miguel only looks down with hooded eyes, smirking before a chuckle breaks from his throat.

“You’re mine,” he hisses out, hands groping your hips, plunging his cock deeper.

Miguel’s laughter mixes into a moan, soft but spiteful, filling and fucking you until he slams into you one final time, choked groans unravelling as he finally spills into you.

You twitch beneath him in that moment, legs shaking. He shifts, steadying himself so he doesn’t crush you beneath his weight. A few silent seconds pass, filled only with the sounds of your heavy breathing.

Like a cat, Miguel nuzzles into your neck, nipping at your skin before unclasping the cuffs, throwing the metal away. Heavy arms snake around your body, holding you captive once more. He kisses your neck.

“So,” he breathes out, “did I make you feel good…mommy?”

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #marvel fanfic #miguel smut #marvel au #miguel x reader #dark content #miguel o’hara x you #yandere miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel fan fiction #miguel x you #miguel o’hara fanfiction

[simplyholl]

A Night With The Winter Soldier

Summary: You’re sent to be Hydra’s test subject for a new serum.

Pairing: F. Reader x Winter Soldier Bucky

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI. Dark Bucky. Non con. Oral. Unprotected sex.

See My Masterlist Here

A/N: I know I don’t usually write for Bucky, but this idea has been stuck in my head for a long time. I’m just tagging my regular tag list, if you’re not into dark fics, please skip! ❤️

Fucked. That’s what you were or at least what you were going to be. You shake your head as you cover your skimpy lingerie with the matching robe your mother gave to you.

Your father is the head scientist for Hydra. He had been working on this experiment for years. He had created a serum that would cause Super Soldiers to want to reproduce. The end result would be a perfect Super Soldier baby. He finally perfected it. Who could be a better test subject than his daughter?

You begged him. You pleaded and cried. It was unfair to expect this of you. But he didn’t care how you felt. He said it was your duty to do as you were told. You didn’t want to make Hydra upset with your family, did you? You knew the horrors that awaited you if you refused. Your best friend, Lilly and her whole family disappeared three years ago when her father refused a command from Hydra. They were brutal and cruel. Sadly, you were used to it.

Hydra came first. Before yourself, before your family, your loyalty had to be unwavering. You knew it wasn’t really your father who had suggested it be you. Your mother told you it was one of the higher ups. He had seen you in your new sundress a few weeks ago and thought you would be perfect to carry the first Super Soldier baby.

It made you sick. How could they do this? You didn’t want to know what would happen if you refused. “At least, he is the strongest Super Soldier. This baby’s genes will be impeccable with the both of you for parents.” Your mother reassured you, as if it would help you feel better.

You weren’t naive. You and the baby would be monitored from the moment you got pregnant. As soon as you gave birth, the child would be ripped from your arms and watched closely. It wouldn’t really be yours.

You take the elevator to the thirteenth floor, heart racing wildly. You were scared. You had seen the Super Soldiers behind glass doors where you were protected from them. Now, you were being offered on a silver platter to the biggest baddest one, like a worm on a hook waiting for a fish to jump after them.

Two guards stand outside the door to the windowless room. Their eyes roam over your barely covered body. They smirk at you as they type in the code to let you in. “Good luck, princess. You’re going to need it.” They evilly laugh as the door opens. Slowly, you walk in, your breath catching in your throat as you hear the steel door bang tightly shut behind you.

The room is dimly lit. A leather chair in one corner, a bed pressed against the wall, there’s a table with a half worked puzzle on it. It was so dreary, your heart aches for the poor guy that called this room home. You walk over to the table, running your hand over the puzzle. That’s when you feel it. Even though you couldn’t see him, you’re not alone. He’s in here with you, hid in the dark corners somewhere. You turn around to find him staring at you.

The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes, you had demanded to know his name before you did this. His dark hair hung in waves by his cheeks, his cold blue eyes focused on your body. He was beautiful. You weren’t used to seeing him without the black mask he usually wore. He was shirtless, his silver, metal arm catching your attention. You studied it. The way it looks like it was forcefully put on, the red star on his shoulder. He was always silent, brooding in the shadows. You had never been this close to him.

You reach for his face, wanting to feel him before all this started. His metal arm stops you, cold hand wrapping around your wrist. You squeak when he twists your arm behind your back, walking you toward the table.

He presses you against it, you feel his erection threatening to burst out of his black pants. One swipe of his free hand knocks the puzzle to the floor. Colorful pieces scatter all around you. He lifts you on top of the table, the cold surface making you gasp when your bare legs land on it.

Bucky holds you with his metal arm, the other one makes quick work of your flimsy robe. He grabs your breast through the thin fabric of your lingerie. You squirm under his touch as he pinches your nipple through the lace.

“You don’t know how bad I need this. Been a long time since I’ve had a pretty girl like you in my bed.” You’re shocked when he speaks to you. You had been warned that he wouldn’t talk to you at all. He takes a step back to look at you, zeroing in on your panties.

He pushes your back to the wall, commanding you to stay there. You obey, you didn’t want to upset him and make this worse for yourself. He holds your top in one hand, jerking the material. The sound of it’s ripping, startling you. He was crazy strong. The thought of being manhandled by him sounded better by the second.

Next was your panties, he stripped you of them quickly, pulling you by your legs to the edge of the table. He got on his knees before you, shoving his face to your core. He licks one fat stripe up your center, moaning as he tastes you. He swirls his tongue across your clit, you buck your hips up to get closer.

Bucky pushes you down with his metal arm, ensuring that you wouldn’t be able to move. You accept your fate, laying back as he laps at you. He fucks you with his tongue, his nose rubbing expertly against your sensitive nub. The band tightly wound in your stomach snaps as he drags his wicked tongue across your clit, sucking you between his lips. He doesn’t hold back his moans as your arousal floods his face.

When he emerges, his face is glistening because of you. He wipes it off with the back of his flesh hand. Bucky jerks you off the table, pointing to the cold, cement ground. “On your knees.” You sink down in front of him as he sheds his pants. You’re surprised he hadn’t already taken them off.

You shift on your knees, trying to get comfortable. He could at least offer you a pillow to kneel on or something. You look around, and spot the only one on his bed. You’re about to ask for it, when he pulls your hair roughly, jerking your head toward his throbbing cock. It was huge. The kind of big that would hurt. You open your mouth, trying to take all of him inside.

You choke and gag, spit dribbling down your chin onto your breasts as you struggle. He looks down at you, hand still tangled in your hair. Your jaw aches already and he’s just getting started. He thrusts his hips forward, pushing your head down simultaneously. Tears fill your eyes as he hits the back of your throat. You can’t help the sob that escapes you as he pulls out, only to forcefully push his way back in.

His thumbs follow the tears on your cheeks, your mascara pooling under your eyes making you look like a raccoon. “You look so pretty when you cry.” He coos, while looking at you adoringly. He thrusts three more times, your nails dig into his thighs, a silent plea to stop. He finally pulls out, collecting you from the floor and gently placing you on his bed.

He places one leg over his shoulder, lining himself up at your entrance. He pushes inside and it’s too much. “It’s- you’re too big.” You explain. Bucky moves your other leg, spreading you wider. “You’re gonna take all of it.” He grunts, wedging himself inside you, bottoming out with one thrust. He ignores your pained scream, leaning down to lick your fresh tears.

“So tight. So perfect. Just for me.” He praises in your ear. Finally, the pain subsides. Bucky feels incredible, his thick cock dragging against the spot that makes your head swim. A gush of arousal soaks him as he swirls his metal thumb in circles on your clit.

“Look at you, such a good girl, dripping all over my cock.” You moan, clenching around him, your long nails clawing his back, drawing blood as your second orgasm rips through you. His thrusts grow sloppy as you feel him go still inside you. His hot cum, drips down your legs as he withdraws himself from you.

Bucky swipes it with his index finger, rubbing it with his thumb. He brings it to your lips, you swirl your tongue around his long digit, loving the way he tastes. You’re caught off guard when his icy, metal hand collects as much cum as he can, stuffing it back inside you.

You twitch, trying to pull away from the cold hand on your heat. “Ah ah ah.” He scolds. He presses his cool thumb to your clit, toying with the oversensitive pearl. “You have to take every drop.” When he’s satisfied with his work, he makes you lay on your back so it doesn’t drip back out.

You close your eyes, the sweet promise of sleep taking over you. You are almost in dream land when you feel the familiar nudge of Bucky’s cock at your sore center. “What are you doing?” You ask, too tired to fight him. “I’m not finished with you yet, doll.” He smiles wickedly, snapping his hips to fill you again.

Tags

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[cherienymphe]

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

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Workouts | Bucky Barnes

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Firefighter!Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> You can’t get enough of Bucky’s glistening body after a workout.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 886

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> 18+, Minors DNI, smut, sir kink (mentioned once), oral (male!receiving), deep throating, burning house (mention), sweaty Bucky, fluff

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> I keep on going back to that gif of Sebastian as Hal Carter (the way his abs and chest glisten from his sweat is mouthwatering) So kinda like a fluffy and smutty 🤭🤭 firefighter/Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes + Gym sex/Car sex (after the gym) (PS: Feel free to ignore this ask 😌😌) @amathslutsguidetofandom

𝐀/𝐍 -> HOW CAN I IGNORE THAT ASK!!!! This let me feel things I didn’t know I could feel like that. And congratulations you just unlocked a new kind of Bucky I can’t resist anymore: Firefighter!Bucky/Lumberjack!Bucky both are so hot. Feel free to sent a request with one of them. They are just so 🫠🫠 And thank you for the request I hope you like it. Divider made by @firefly-graphics.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> Fandom-Free Bingo: Frosty Edtion | G5 | Firefighter AU | @fandom-free-bingo

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Sweat is running down his cheeks, slowly trailing down his neck, and all over his high-defined abs. Your boyfriend is just doing his workout for the day. You're sitting on the bench next to his uniform. Your eyes are focused on him, and you just can't get enough of the way his muscles flex when he moves. He looks hot in a way he shouldn't, at least not while he is doing a workout.

How good must your boyfriend look when he is running into a burning building wearing his uniform, which defines his body so perfectly? Bucky would run into a building, and the flames of the fire would get bigger and bigger, but it didn't stop the firefighter from getting into the building. The sweat would run all over his forehead when he got into the room where the people were standing. Bucky would lift the big shelf, which just crashed down, and he would help them get out of the room before he let go of the shelf and turned back to get out of the building. But before he takes another step, he hears another sound - a meow from across the room. Bucky wouldn't think twice when he saw the little kitten sitting on an armchair, waiting for someone to get her out of the building.

'Hi, my precious little baby. Come here; let's get you out of here.'

He would make his way through the room and pick up the little kitten. Bucky wouldn't mind the rising heat in the room; he would mind the sweat running down his whole body. He would get the little fur ball and get out of the building. When he would take off his helmet, the sweat would have soaked his hair already, and he would slide his hand through it, shoving it out of his face.

"What's in your pretty mind, doll?" Bucky asks, looking up from where he is lying on the ground.

You smirk, your cheeks heating up, especially when you see his sweaty hair clinging to his face. His cheeks are red as well, and his abs are flexing when he does another push-up. Bucky's t-shirt's way already in their place somewhere on the ground. So you have the best view of his sweaty but tensing, high-defined abs.

"I-I'm hungry," you mumble with a soft smirk.

Bucky knows exactly what you mean and what kind of hunger you're feeling. The desire in your eyes tells him that, as does the way your lips are slightly parted while he does his workout.

"Love that, don't you?"

You definitely do, with the way his body is glistening and shining in the light of the sun, which shines into the gym.

"Let's give you your snack then," Bucky says, getting up from the ground.

He makes his way over to you, his hand sliding through his beautiful brown hair. He wipes it out of his face, and his steel-blue eyes darken softly when he sees the way you swallow harshly.

"What do you think about a thick, hard snack?" He asks and places his hand underneath your chin, tilting your head up so you have to look into his eyes. "Wanna have that salty snack?"

You nod, licking your lips, when Bucky leans closer to capture your lips with his. The kiss is short but passionate, and your eyes are filled with lust when he lets go of you. Your hands slide along his thighs while you push him slowly away and get on your knees in front of him. The bulge visible in his pants, your hand gliding over it, and you earn a groan from Bucky. Bucky smirks at you, his hand sliding into your hair and gripping it softly. You slide down his sweatpants with his boxers, and his hard cock springs free. Pre-cum is leaking from his tip, and you lick your lips, smirking when you look at his length.

"Like what you see, doll?"

"Always, Sir."

Bucky groans and pulls your head closer, tugging at your hair while the tip of his cock presses against your lips. You part your lips softly, your mouth watering for a while now, and now you have your favorite snack - Bucky. He pushes his dick inside your mouth; the warmth of it immediately welcomes him, and he throws his head back. Your fingers dig into the soft skin of his thighs. You take his cock completely into your mouth and down your throat. Bucky groans when you gag around him, swallowing his dick down your throat.

"Good girl, taking my dick like a good slut. Such a slut, aren't you?"

You nod, letting his dick slide out of your mouth, then you twirl your tongue around his tip. You love his taste - the salty taste of him. Bucky smirks at you; the way you look up to face him makes him go crazy. So innocent with his dick in your mouth.

"You look so fucking innocent, but sucking my dick little the good girl you're for me." Bucky mumbles and pushes his dick back down your throat.

He loves the warmth and tight feeling, even though he prefers your tight little pussy. Your tongue working along his shaft over his vein makes his groans get louder and more pre-cum dripping on your tongue.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬.

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @nicoline1998enilocin @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77

#marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x female reader #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #james barnes x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #james barnes x you #james barnes x y/n #bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky x reader smut #bucky smut #bucky x y/n #bucky x yn #bucky x fem reader #bucky x female yn #bucky x f!reader #dark bucky x reade

[star-xxx1]

Cervix kisses 18+

Stalker! Pervert! Best friend! Natasha x fem!reader.

Warnings: G!p Natasha, dub-con, Somo, masterbation, a bit of a breeding kink, dom Natasha, praise kink and degradation kink, stalking, pantie stealing, pictures (idk what to call it), groping, mommy kink.

A/n: In order of kinktober, even though I am not doing it I thought I should at least do one, right? Natasha is a lot of things here.

A faint luminescence emanated throughout the void, casting ghostly shadows on the walls and floor. soft, guttural sounds along with heavy panting filled the room. Your name gentle rolling off Natashas tounge as she moved her hand frantically up and down on her thick shaft. The sound of water running and skin slapping echoed in the room, providing a sensual backdrop to Natasha's lewd performance. She continued to watch you through the hidden camera that she had installed In your shower, capturing your evey move.

You hummed to yourself while scrubbing your body with the soapy loofah, having no idea that you were be watched. A pair of your panties were wrapped around Natashas dick as she jerked off to the site of your beautiful body, wishing it were your soft hand instead of hers. You had no clue that they were in the hands of your bestfriend. You thought you had just lost them around the house. Natasha stole them whilst you were sleeping, on one of your many sleepovers you guys enjoyed. She sniffed them before stuffing them into her bag, the smell of your prefect pussy lingering on them causing her strained cock to become even harder.

Her eyes glued to the screen, her hand squeezing her pulsating sex harder. her breathing hitching as she neared climax. she threw her head back into the soft, fluffy pillow with a moan and arched her spine, her orgasm washing over her like a tidal wide. Thick ropes of cum squirting out and drenching your panties. Natasha's body shuddered under the force of her orgasm, eyes squeezed tightly shut as she rode out the intense sensation. Finally, she opened them again, focusing on your figure in the shower once more.

"See you soon, pretty girl." She whispered out, throwing your cum soaked panties to the side. She shut the laptop. Standing up to shower herself, getting ready for the sleepover that you both planned today.

Two hands roughly grabbed your waist. It was the only sensation you could feel. The white soft bedding was nothing compared to Natasha's hands on your body. She pulled you into her front as you wrapped your arm around, entangling your legs together. She kissed your rosy cheek, and you smiled. "What did you love most about today?" Your voice came out smooth as slik.

They was so much to pick out of. The time when you needed help getting your bra off, and you exposed your back to Natasha asking her to unclip it. She pulled you down onto her lap abruptly. She wasn't embarrassed that she knew you could feel her hard on, biting her lip to stifle a moan at the pressure, as she aided you. Or when you bent over numerous times to get stuff out of the counters. Or when you need her help to reach something, she grabbed your hips and lifted you, pining you against the marbel counter with her crotch, whilst her hands roamed up dangerous, close to your plush boobs. Or...

There was just so much that Natasha got to go with you today, being able to touch you in places where you wouldn't allow anyone else to. You and Natasha had a very flirty friendship and were so comfortable with each other. You would pee with the door open, get dressed in front of her, share all your secrets, and she would do all the same back to you. Only if you knew that it only fueled her sexual desire to break you into her toy, dominate you, be your only source of comfort. And even in the friendish zone, she controlled you. It was like you were both obsessed with each other, telling each other every detail. The number of times that you had been mistaken as her girlfriend were astronomical because of how lovey you guys were for 'just friends', but you couldn't lie. You definitely had caught feeling for the redhead, maybe even more...

"I don't have a favourite. I love doing everything with you." She whispered into the cold night air. "Aw, that's sweet and kinda cheesy." You joked out. She chuckled and held you closer. "Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night, Natty." You nuzzled your head into Natashas chest. Her clothed breasts develop your face whole.

Natasha adored your light snores. She found them adorable. Her hand coming down to caress the smooth swell of your ass, which stuck out of your flimsy sleep shorts. 'I bet you're so nice and tight,' she thought to herself, squeezing the soft flesh. She couldn't help but fanitise about you. Your curves and your shape were perfect in Nat's eyes.

"Natasha." The name came tumbling from your mouth In a moan like manner. She stared at you, wondering if you had woken up and felt her rough hands on your ass. But no, you were still fast asleep. "Dreaming about me, princess?" She whispered into your ear, carefully biting it.

She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and got up for the bed, making sure not to wake you up. Natasha carefully turned you on okay the back, lifting up your shirt. Your pretty pink nipples are standing tall and proud. "So precious." She cooed. She lovingly kissed your breasts valley.

Natasha started taking pictures of your bare breasts, and you cute buds. Your ass too. She couldn't wait to add this to her collection of your body. She had them on her phone to view at any time, pictures on her wall that she took down when you came over, and in scrapbooks. She just loved you very much.

After taking around 30 pictures, she stopped, getting back into the comfy bed and wrapping her arms around you. She stared at your boobs. Her hard on getting painful. "You look so peaceful when sleeping, princess." Her hands ducking into her boxers, pulling out her thick cock.

"Natasha." Came the name out your plump lips again, your unconscious form shifting a bit. "I know, baby, it will all be okay." She fake pouted. Natasha moved your legs apart, settling in between them. Rubbing your clothed pussy.

"I've been waiting so long for you, baby." Natasha dragged the cotton materiel down your legs. Looking down at your panties, she saw the thick layer of slick. your pussy glistening in the moonlight. "A wet dream, huh?" She teased. She came to hover above you, each hand planted firmly beside your head. She stared at your soft face, kissing your forehead. "This is going to be so good doll."

She smirks as she positions her cock at your dripping entrance. With a gentle push, she slides into your wet pussy, filling you up. She groaned and bit her lip to contain herself. Slowly and gently, she begins to thrust into you, her hands running up and down your sides soothingly as she takes you slowly. her breath warm against your neck as she continues her slow, sensual rhythm. The tip of her cock rubs against your sensitive inner walls, causing tiny jolts of pleasure to run through you. You suddenly jolted awake with a loud moan. Natasha's eyes flashed as she saw you wake up, She leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered.

"Baby, you're tight." her meaty shaft sending sharp waves of pleasure shooting through your body. "Fuck yes baby, mommy's cock is deep inside you. You feel so good wrapped around me."

You couldn't stop the moans that spilt out of you as the redhead used you for her pleasure. You tried to wiggle away, but her strong hands firmly held you in place. "Natty!" You gasped out as she slapped your thigh. "You can't fucking run slut" her hand came to cover your mouth, preventing your cries. Salty Tears rolled down your face, not from fear, no pleasure. "You promise to be good?" Her hips came to a halt, you let out a loud muffled whine, as you nodded profusely. Natasha laughed at your pathetic little self. her breath warm against your skin. She let go of your face, her fingers moving to play with your nipples gently as she begins building up the intensity as she goes. Your arms go to wrap around her back, holding her close.

Feeling your arms wrap around her, Natasha leans into the embrace, her body flush against yours. Her thrusts become deeper and harder now, pushing herself fully inside you with each stroke. "That's it, baby. Take mommy's big cock." You moans mixed together like a lustful harmony. "Fuck, you feel so good," Natasha groans out, her hips pushing into yours with more force as she hits deep inside you once again. "Mommy loves you, baby girl." She peppered your forehead with kisses as your mind slowly started to drift off into a land full of pleasure.

"I love you too." You whimper out.

"My little cumdump," She smirks, a calculating bossiness lacing her tone. Her hips begin to grind against yours once more, taking control of their shared rhythm. "You're so fucking sexy when you take my cock like this. You want me to fill this pretty pussy with my babies?" Her cock tip perfectly kissing your cervix sending pleasure through out your body as you clawed at her back. "Mommy!" You cried out, her cock nuzzled perfectly into you. Natasha's nails dig into your hips as she leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Her tongue dives into your mouth, exploring and claiming territory as she continues to pound into you. "Letting you best friend fuck you like this? Such a desperate whore." She said looking down at your, with was twisted in pleasure. "Y-your whore." You stutter out. Becoming nothing more but a mindless bitch for the addicting redhead. Natasha chuckles softly as she feels you start to twitch and squirm beneath her, her thrusts becoming more erratic and intense as she nears the edge herself. "That's it, baby. Let mommy watch your pretty face as you cum."

She groans out, her hips bucking wildly as she feels your cum surrounding her cock. Then, with one powerful thrust, she releases herself into you, filling you up with her hot seed as you scream in pleasure. She pants heavily, her body shuddering from the intense orgasm. Her eyes meet yours, filled with satisfaction and love. Natasha smiles softly as she feels your body shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Her hips continue to grind against yours, her cock still buried deep inside you as she rides out her own pleasure. She pulls out of you, leaving your trembling body, your abused cunt sticky with combined fluids. "That was quite the show, baby girl."

"Natasha." You whined out feeling vulnerable after being fucked so harshly by her.

"Shhh." She soothed you.

You felt your pussy gaping, her cum dripping out of you. You whined as you felt your sensitive body begin pulled and up manhandled. She sat you in her lap, your eyes heavily. But before you fell into sweet sleep, you heard your best friends voice. "Can I get a kiss, baby?" You nodded, eyesight hazy. You captured her lips in a sweet, lovingly kiss before falling deep alseep, fucked out. She chuckled and kissed your forehead before lifting up your limp body and taking you to the bathroom. She was going to give you the best aftercare since you were now her perfect princess. Well, you always were.

How do we feel about this? Please give feedback and reblog. I hope you enjoyed <3

#natasha romanoff #nat x reader #natalia romanova #natasha #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x you #nat x you #natasha marvel #natalia alianovna romanova #natasha ramanoff #dark natasha #dark natasha romanoff #black widow x female reader #black widow #black widow smut #natasha romanoff x reader smut #smut #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff drabble #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff smut #kinktober

[spider-stark]

INFINITELY YOU

part two // crullers & constants

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 4.2k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker

Peter Pan Donuts is a sacred place. 

Or, rather, it was a sacred place—and walking back into the shop now felt awfully strange. 

Back when you and Peter first started high school, it had become a tradition to end every Friday with one of the renowned pastry shop’s legendary frosted crullers. You considered it a well-deserved reward for surviving another week of more drama than either of you could stomach, thankful that the weekend was finally upon you and that you could finally breathe without inhaling the reek of the unwashed teenage boys that lined the halls of Midtown. 

Peter Pan’s quickly became a haven. A safe place where the two of you could tuck yourselves away at the end of the bar, talking for hours about the teachers you hated and the bullies you hoped would fall from the face of the Earth. There was nothing that you couldn’t talk about, no secrets kept between you and Peter. 

Or, at least, none that mattered. 

But things changed as time passed, as they so often do. 

It started with the inclusion of Ned. You didn’t particularly mind his presence, even if the conversations had begun to shift towards less intimate topics, focusing instead on movies that you all wanted to see or upcoming video games that you would all try to play. 

Then came the inclusion of Mj a few months later, after she landed a job at the shop. That was when everything truly changed—when it was no longer you and Peter tucked away at the bar, but you and Ned, left to pick at your food and watch as Peter leaned across the front counter and talked to Mj over her shift. 

After a few months of testing every donut on the menu with Ned, you stopped going altogether. 

And Peter never even asked why. 

“I was surprised to see you texted me,” you quip as you slid onto the free barstool, “what happened to not wanting me to get involved?” 

Peter exhales sharply through his nose, and even though his eyes are glued to his phone, you can tell that he was already regretting asking you to meet him here. “I already told you that what I want doesn’t matter.” 

And how true that must have been. 

There had been nothing kind about his text to you this morning, although there was nothing inherently rude about it either, you supposed. It was simple—meet me at Peter Pan’s asap, need 2 talk—but you could almost sense the begrudging nature with which he had typed it. And, sitting next to him now, you could almost feel it, too. 

He didn’t want you here, even if he had been the one to invite you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had decided to involve you at all—especially so soon. What had changed in a single night? 

Sitting on the barstool to your left, Parker pops his lips. “Well this is fun. I’m not at all uncomfortable right now.” 

You turned towards him, acknowledging just how different he looked in the civilian clothes that he donned in place of his suit—black jeans that certainly looked worse for wear and an old Ramone’s t-shirt that you immediately recognized as yours. Oversized on you, the short sleeves clung rather tightly to his well-muscled arms. Did he seriously go through your stuff?! 

 “Why are you even here?” You ask, perhaps a little sharper than necessary. You weren’t angry that he had gone sifting through the armoire in the spare bedroom, especially since he couldn’t just parade around as Spider-Man all of the time. But he could’ve at least asked. “Shouldn’t one of you be busy patrolling?” 

It was hard to tell if the offense on his face was real or feigned, but you didn’t care much either way. “Peter wanted answers about my world, I wanted food,” he shrugs, gesturing at the crème-filled donut in front of him. “And Peter 2’s handling patrol.” 

Peter 2—you had almost forgotten about him, the version of Peter that hadn’t wanted to come with Ned and Mj to your apartment last night. As far as you could tell when you woke up this morning, he hadn’t shown up in the middle of the night, either—no trace of Parker or anyone else when you had finally stumbled out of your room to get ready after reading the text from Peter. 

You didn’t figure it was really your business where the mystery Peter was, but you were a little surprised to hear that he was still out patrolling. Was he not exhausted?  

“Ametaur move getting crème-filled,” you tell him, ignoring everything he said. “Should’ve gone with the frosted vanilla cruller, it’s way better.” 

“No way,” he gapes, grabbing the half-eaten pastry and shaking it for emphasis as he said, “this is god-tier, alright? No way anything’s topping it.” 

The expression on his face was actually hilarious, his brown doe eyes alight with pure euphoria as he took another bite of the donut. An exaggerated moan slipped his lips, coated with bits of sugar and crème. It was hard not to laugh at him, especially when you knew that was probably his goal—to combat the evident tension between you and Peter. 

Chuckling, you lift your hands in mock defense. “Suit yourself, Parker. But if you ever wanna experience true pleasure, then you know what to order.” 

Parker looks as if he's about to continue his borderline-lustful tangent about the donut, but Peter spoke up instead, his attention snagging on the name you used. 

“Parker?” He echoes in disbelief, letting his phone clatter against the bar. 

Peter’s sudden resurgence to the real world left Parker silent, sinking back against his stool and taking another bite. 

“What?” Your brow arches, your voice laced with incredulity. “Did you really think I’d keep calling him Peter 2? No offense to Ned, but everything about that feels stupid.” 

Peter’s eyes narrow, coupled with a subtle shake of his head that indicates he doesn't care nearly enough to have this conversation right now. 

You didn’t care much either, and so you steered the conversation in a more productive direction. “So what is this grand plan of yours?” You ask with a somewhat sarcastic lilt. “And where do I fit into it?” 

Another huff of breath escaped his nostrils. “We don’t even have a plan. Not yet,” he reluctantly admits. “But I tried talking to Doctor Strange last night, to see if he had some sort of magical spell or something that would let us go back and fix all of this.” 

Your lips press together, nibbling on the skin and pretending you didn’t notice the hidden meaning behind his words. He hadn’t just gone to Doctor Strange to find a way to get rid of the villains now lurking in your world, because if he had, then he wouldn’t have gone specifically seeking out a spell that would let him go back—not just to stop the villains from ever coming here, but to save May, too. 

“Did he?” 

Peter reached for his cup of iced coffee, if only to occupy his now-fidgeting fingers. “No,” he murmurs, the sound of sloshing ice nearly overpowering him as he swirled the cup. “He didn’t.” 

You frown at the tinge of disappointment that snuck through his otherwise even tone, your chest aching. You had to fight against the urge to say I’m sorry, remembering what he had said to you last night—he didn’t want your apologies, nor did he seem to want anyone else's. 

In truth, you weren’t sure what Peter wanted; or what you could do to help him. 

“Well did he have anything useful?” 

He shook his head, lifting the cup to his mouth. “Define useful,” he scoffed, sounding uncharacteristically sharp. He took a sip of his drink, his nose scrunching as soon as the coffee hit his tongue—too bitter. 

Despite the coffee’s pale color that indicated it was more cream than coffee, you weren’t surprised that it was still too strong for him. Peter had never truly developed a taste for coffee, only pursuing a caffeine addiction for the sake of combating the exhaustion that came with being Spider-Man. That didn’t mean he had ever grown to like it though, masking the taste with copious amounts of sugar and syrups. 

“Something that will keep multiversal villains from tearing our world apart?” You venture half-heartedly, guided by pure instinct and muscle memory as you reached over to take his cup from him, snagging a few packs of sugar from the plastic canister on the bar to0. 

“He has a theory,” Peter gives you a tight-lipped smile, born of pure frustration. 

“A theory? And he expects us to save the world with this theory?” You ask, a bit more derisive than you would have been if Doctor Strange were around to hear. 

Peter scoots closer to you, his voice purposefully low. “Do you remember when I told you about him using the Time Stone before Mr. Stark died? To look through all the different outcomes with Thanos?” 

Ripping open the sugar packets and dumping them in his cup, you managed to mask a wince at the mention of Peter’s dead mentor. You only nodded, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you tried for any sort of verbal affirmation. 

“Well… when he did that, he thinks that he might have actually seen through the multiverse—he just didn’t know for sure at the time.” 

Your forehead creased as you popped the lid back onto his cup, sliding it back towards him. Given his advantage of Spidey-sense, he easily caught it before it could slide too far and end up on the floor—which is what would have definitely happened pre-Spider bite. 

“And you don’t consider that to be useful to our current situation?” 

“No. I don’t.” Peter answers firmly. “Because at the center of it all—in every universe the Stone showed him—all he saw was you.” 

You nearly laugh, your lips curving as you rose a brow at him. “Me?” 

Peter gave a nod as he took another sip of his drink. This time, his nose didn’t scrunch. 

“But it’s been almost a year since the Avengers took down Thanos,” you reminded him, your stunned amusement beginning to fade into confusion. “If he saw.. Me, when he used the Stone, then why didn’t he say anything until now?” 

By no means would you consider yourself to be close with New York’s resident Sorcerer, and so you wouldn’t have expected him to come to you with this knowledge. But Peter—he knew Peter, and he knew that you were Peter’s best friend, and so it didn’t make any sense to you why Doctor Strange chose to wait until now to mention what the Stone had shown him. 

Given the aggravated expression Peter wore, it was clear that he was thinking the same. “I don’t know, and trying to get answers out of Doctor Strange that he clearly doesn’t want to give is like pulling teeth.” 

“But what does that mean?” You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing further, concern starting to bubble up inside of you. Regardless of his answer—if he had one—you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it. “I don’t get how I’m at the center of every universe.” 

Peter blew out a breath, his fingers going back to tapping against the sides of his plastic cup. “Alright, so there are probably well-over a hundred thousand different parallel universes, okay? Some of them are probably super similar to ours, and then there are others that are the complete opposite.” 

“O-kay,” you drone, your brows drawing together. You felt the start of a headache coming on as you prepared yourself for the confusing science-talk that was surely about to start pouring out of his mouth. 

Perhaps noticing your pained expression, Peter tries to find a way to simplify whatever explanation he was about to use. “Try and look at it like this,” he started, “think of the multiverse as some giant, cosmic loom, alright? Now imagine that each thread on the loom signifies a person. As the loom weaves all of these different threads together, different decisions get made and different actions are taken—and with every choice, a new thread is spun, branching off and creating a variation of the original tapestry.” 

“So it’s like you and Parker, right?” You interrupt him, rubbing at your temples. “Same thread, different reality?” 

“Exactly! And, technically speaking, that’s how it’s supposed to be. As the loom weaves and alters reality, each thread continuously evolves into something different.” He paused, his fingers finally falling still. “But now imagine that—in the center of all of these branching tapestries—there exists one thread, entirely unbroken and unaltered by this ever-weaving tapestry of existence, okay? A glitch in the cosmic fabric, a constant that’s woven into infinite realities and yet, somehow, remains fundamentally unchanged. How does that work?” 

You couldn’t ignore the sense of dread creeping up your spine, nor could you escape the slight wobble in your voice as you said, “It doesn’t sound like it should.” 

“You’re right, it shouldn’t work.” Peter confirmed, his expression nearly impossible to read. “But according to Doctor Strange, you are that thread. A constant anomaly that defies every potential law of the multiverse.” 

Nausea bubbled in your gut. God, you did not want to deal with this right now! 

“And let me guess,” a bitter laugh follows your words, “that’s as much information as he was willing to give, wasn’t it?” 

“Yep,” Peter pops his lips, leaning back into his stool. His brows raise slightly in a silent I told you so before he says, “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be involved, right? Now you’re at the center of everything-” 

“I said I wanted to help you,” you correct him sharply. “Not that I wanted to be at the center of Doctor Strange’s weird Time Stones fantasies!” 

He only shrugs, barely acknowledging the dirty look you gave him as he plucks his phone off of the counter, clicking on a notification. “Same thing, isn’t it? Either way, you get what you want.” 

“What I want?” You echoed, your mouth hung open in disbelief. 

“Doctor Strange seems to think that whatever is wrong with you might help us solve all of this. That you might be connected to the multiverse somehow, or that you’re at least immune to it. So yeah, you get what you want. You get to help,” he spat the word out like an insult, too focused on typing something to even notice how rude he sounded. 

If it weren’t for the feeling that stomach acid was about to come crawling up your throat, then you might have taken some time to unpack the bitterness in his tone or be hurt by the claim that something was wrong with you—but you didn’t. Even if you had, you weren’t sure that it would have gotten you anywhere. 

You weren’t stupid. Peter was wielding his insolence like a shield, purposefully trying to hurt you as an effort to keep you at arms length—and, if you had to guess, Mj and Ned were probably receiving the same treatment right now. 

“Well this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help,” you admitted, one hand going to rest against your cramping stomach. At least the throbbing in your temples had died down… 

Peter only shrugged at you, shoving his phone in his back pocket and rising to his feet. “Too bad,” he told you, offering a smile that most definitely wasn’t genuine. “I’ve gotta go, but make him walk you home, alright? I’ll text you if I hear anything else from Doctor Strange.” 

Parker frowned beside you, and whether it was because Peter was speaking about him like he wasn’t here or because of his attitude in general, you couldn’t tell. 

“Whoa, hold up! You didn’t even tell me what your plan is until you hear from him!” You argue, reaching for his wrist to keep him from walking past you until he answered. 

He pulls his hand back from your grip, but not before your stare snags on the reddish hue that stains his nails—blood. Noticing it only served to make you feel sicker, and to make your concern for Peter grow larger. Was he really still walking around with May’s blood caked under his nails? Has he rested at all since last night? 

“Same plan as always,” he told you, your eyes snapping up to meet his, suddenly noticing how rimmed with exhaustion they were. “Stop the bad guys.” 

He didn’t leave any time for protests or further questions before turning his back to you and heading straight for the exit. When the little bell on the door chimed as he shoved his way back out onto the streets, you couldn’t stop the worried sigh that escaped your lips. 

Peter was an Avenger by every right. He had battled alongside a Norse God and helped take down a literal Titan, and so knew that you shouldn’t have any reason to doubt his capability when it came to taking down whatever villains had crossed into your world. 

But it wasn’t that you doubted his ability to survive against them, or even his ability to stop them—you were worried about whether he could handle the weight of it all. 

The weight of him placing yet another thing on his shoulders. Another villain, another fight, another burden, another chance to lose someone. 

Thinking of that, it suddenly dawned on you that maybe Mj and Ned weren’t getting the same treatment as you. Maybe you were getting the worst of it, if only because now whatever connection you had to the multiverse was just another weight he thought he had to bear, another person he had to worry about protecting. 

Guilt flooded your veins, and even as you tried to remind yourself that you hadn’t caused this, you still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that it was somehow your fault anyway. 

“Y’know, I get that this probably isn’t the right time for this,” Parker starts. When you look at him, your attention immediately snags on the dozen donuts that he had ordered while you were talking to Peter. “But I think it’s so cool that you guys have magic in your world!” 

He takes another bite of the donut in his hand, powdered sugar falling from his lips as he says, “And these donuts! It’s a tough call, but they might be even better than magic!” 

You didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if he was intentionally trying to lighten the mood or if it was just incidental, but it worked all the same. Laughter poured from your mouth, and it wasn’t until it died down that he said anything else. 

“Sooo… That was tense, wasn’t it? Like, it wasn’t just me, right?” 

You groan, propping your elbows against the counter and placing your cheeks in your palms. “Was it that noticeable?” 

Parker snorts a laugh, stretching an arm past you to reach for Peter’s abandoned coffee. “Oh, yeah. It’s actually painful to be in a room with you two.” 

His playful tone made it clear that it was just a joke, but it still made you feel bad. You already didn’t like how hostile things felt between you and Peter, even if it was only one-sided, and to know that others felt it too just made it that much worse. 

“Things are just.. Difficult, right now.” You tell him, choosing your words carefully. 

“So it hasn’t always been like that with you guys?” He asks, and the delicate arch of his brow made it seem as though he were shocked by the possibility that things had ever been civil between you and Peter. 

There was a chance that you had misread his expression though, as it was very quickly wiped away once he took a sip of Peter’s half-drank coffee, gagging as soon as it hit his tongue. “Holy shi-” he started coughing, cutting off the vulgarities that threatened to spill out. “How does he drink this?!” Parker yelped as soon as he could take a full breath, looking utterly disgusted as he shoved the cup back across the bar. “It’s literally just liquid sugar!” 

You found it hard to stifle your amusement at his suffering, even as he shot you a teasing scowl for it. “No,” you answer his previous question, trying to ignore his melodramatic display, “believe it or not, things between us actually used to be really… I don’t know—easy, I guess.” 

Parker was still smacking his lips to try and rid himself of the cloying aftertaste. “What changed?” 

In retrospect, you realized that it probably would have been smarter for you to bite your tongue. To offer him some cheap, cop-out excuse rather than tell him the truth. After all, you already had experience in hiding from the truth and it wasn’t like you really knew Parker, and so lying to him shouldn’t have been a hard task. 

Yet, for some reason, you told him the truth anyway. 

“Mj happened.” 

Parker’s brows furrows. “The girl from last night, right?” 

“Yep. That’s the one.” 

“Y’know, I don’t really like her all that much,” his words were spoken like a balm, seeking to ease the dejected look etched upon your face, but tinged with enough playful sarcasm for you to know he didn’t actually mean them. “She threw a bread roll at me. A few of them, actually.” 

It was hard not to laugh at the thought considering that it was such an Mj thing to do. “Sounds about right,” you crack a smile, although you don't feel particularly happy. “She’s always been slow to trust, especially complete strangers.” 

In an odd sort of way, the statement felt like a lie. Not because it actually wasn’t true—because Mj was wary of strangers—but because Parker didn’t quite feel like a stranger in your mind. While last night had been a bit awkward, you now felt like talking to him was effortless, each sentence rolling off your tongue with unnatural ease. 

“But she trusts you?” Parker asks, picking a crumb off another one of the pastries and popping it into his mouth. 

You sucked in a breath. 

“I don’t know,” you answer him, with a bit more honesty than you're comfortable with. “I mean, I know that she used to trust me. But now… I’m not even sure if she likes me anymore.” 

His brow snapped up. “What changed?” 

Suddenly the truth no longer felt so easy, and you found yourself wishing that you could change the subject altogether. You didn’t want to talk about this—especially not with him, some boy that you had known for less than twenty-four hours. 

But you had backed yourself into a corner, and so in an effort to try and satiate whatever interest he had developed in the story you had told, you settled on offering a vague half-truth. 

“She started dating Peter,” you tell him simply, putting effort into looking disinterested. “They got together a few months ago and things just… It just got weird, y’know? It’s always awkward when two of your friends get together, I guess. Creates too much drama.” 

“Yeah, for sure,” Parker hums, agreeing with you. “Especially when you have feelings for him, right?” 

An incomprehensible noise escaped your throat, best categorized as something between a laugh and a cough. Your mouth fell open to try and defend yourself, to try and deny his claim—but he didn’t even give you a chance. 

“Oh c’mon!” Parker groans, grinning when he notices the now rosy complexion of your cheeks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I mean, let’s be real here, alright? That whole sugar thing earlier?” He jutted a finger towards Peter’s abandoned iced coffee, “Was a dead giveaway.” 

“You’re insane,” You declare, shaking your head and masking your embarrassment with uncomfortable laughter. “I don’t have feelings for Peter—and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter! Regardless of what it’s done to our friendship, Mj is literally perfect for him and-” 

“I think it’s cute,” he interrupts, a delicate smile gracing his lips. Noticing the way your brows furrow, he elaborated, “How much you care about him. And how much you care about her, too, since you’re so willing to pretend like you don’t like him.” 

“I’m not pretending-” 

Parker jokingly cut his eyes. “Yeah, sureee.” 

Blowing a frustrated breath, you push yourself up from the barstool. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.” You tell him, far too flustered to try and come up with a good defense to his teasing. “You can take the rest of your donuts to go, Bug-boy.” 

There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the taunting nickname fell from your lips, and he almost felt as though his heart had stopped dead in his chest. 

“Fine,” Parker yields, rising to his feet and snagging the box of donuts from the bar. “But I really hope that you have your wallet—cause I definitely don’t have a way to pay for these.” He flashed a crooked smile before continuing, “Or we can just run really fast and hope they don’t call the police on us for stealing pastries.” 

“I can’t imagine that robbery would be very good for your reputation as a hero,” you chide sarcastically, your own lips curling into a half-smile, “so I’ll pay—but only if you give me every cruller in that box. Deal?” 

Parker spares a quick glance down at the dozen box of donuts in his hands. Half of them were already gone, but through the small cellophane window he could see that there were three frosted crullers left. “Deal.”

series masterlist

a/n - for those who read IY before the rewrite, you may already be able to note some rather major changes going on lmao. i genuinely can't describe how much i actually enjoy rewriting this story, as i'm finally able to collect my thoughts enough to write the plot the way i originally wanted to.

as always, please leave any feedback, opinions, etc.! any and all comments/reblogs definitely encourage me to write/edit faster! and, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

part three, titled "spitfire", to be released april 15th

#peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #no way home imagine #no way home fanfiction #no way home #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagines #spiderman imagines #tom!peter imagine #andrew!peter imagine #tobey!peter imagine #tom!peter x reader #andrew!peter x reader #tobey!peter x reader #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #marvel x reader #marvel imagines #marvel headcanons #spiderman imagine #spiderman fic #spiderman fan fiction #dark spiderman #mcu #spiderman #spiderverse #tobey maguire #andrew garfield

[wandaslittlelove]

Destined Part 3

Warnings: smut, fingering (r receiving), enchanted strap (r receiving), breeding, forced pregnancy

Series Masterlist

It had been about a week since Wanda brought me to this cabin. Within the week she had been playing nice. No yelling, no magic use, nothing. Just pure sweetness. I’m not sure what terrified me more. She had been cooking meals for me everyday, leaving small lingering kisses on my cheek, and allowing me to have free roam of the cabin. She even occasionally let me outside.

The small cabin was surrounded by trees that seemed to stretch for miles. On one side of the cabin there was a sheep pin and the other side was a small little Garden that she would tend to everyday around noon. I wasn’t allowed any further than the end of the sheep pin which was something she made very clear on the first day I was here.

Now though as I sat in the living room watching the tv that Wanda had turned on for me before she went back through the portal to her “castle” I could feel a feeling rise up into me that signified something wasn’t right.

I heard the angry footsteps before I saw her. They echoed throughout the house as she got closer. The closer she got the worse the feeling in my stomach become.

Soon I was face to face with a furious Wanda and before I could say anything she was gripping me by the hair and dragging me to the bedroom. I was forced onto the bed and quickly found my arms tied to the bed with her magic. She angrily mumbled something before flicking her wrist causing my clothes to disappear.

“Wanda? Wanda stop!” I begged as she began to remove her clothes as well. Although that only seemed to make her angrier as she gripped my throat tightly.

“Shut up slut. I have not had a good day. Now be good and let me use you”

Bringing one of her hands up she began to pinch and tug at my nipples. I could already feel my body reacting to the familiar touch as I arched up into her and tried to keep from moaning. I hate that my body still wanted her after everything. As she pulled on my nipples the anger on her face slowly started to disappear a little.

As I closed my eyes and allowed myself to relax a little I felt something rub up against my cunt. I opened my eyes quickly and looked down panicked only to be shushed by Wanda.

“Hush detka it’s okay. Mommy’s just going to fill you up with her strap okay. Just wanna feel you” I had heard that sentence multiple times. And by the wording I knew she had enchanted it. We had done it many times before with her always pulling out in fear I may actually get pregnant since neither of us really knew what her magic was capable of.

I gasped as I felt two of her fingers enter me before she started to curl and scissor them, stretching me out. Leaning down she kissed me softly before loosening her grip on my neck.

“Being such a good girl for me. Just gotta stretch you” she mumbled as my stomach began to tighten signaling my orgasm. She brought her thumb to rub my clit in quick circles and began to suck on my neck no doubt leaving hickeys behind. With a loud moan I came all over her fingers and felt her smile against me before pulling away.

As I regained my breath I was given no warning as she began to slowly enter me with the strap. Even being prepared I still struggled against my magical restraints as I felt my walls tighten around her. She let out a chocked moan before slamming into me fully. Her hands were on my hips as she breathed heavily with her eyes closed. Her lips were between her teeth and her grip on my waist tightened before she slowly pulled out only to roughly thrust back in and kept repeating it.

“God, you feel so good around me. So tight and warm. Never gonna get tired of being inside you” her thrusts grew rougher and faster as she felt my arousal leak around her as well as the remnants of my first orgasm. I couldn’t hold back the moans anymore they grew louder the closer I got.

As her thrust began to grow sloppy I could tell she was close. With a weak body I attempted to struggle against my restraints wanting to touch her.

“Mo- mommy please. Wanna touch you” she looks down at me and shakes her head.

“I can’t detka. Can’t- fuck can’t have you trying to push me away when I pump my cum into you. Strange wants to say my kids aren’t real I’ll fucking show him” slowly I became more conscious the closer she got to her orgasm. She was going to come inside of me and there was nothing I could do. I knew nothing I said would stop her and I was to powerless to push her off. And maybe a piece of me wanted this. Wanted to be hers and have a family with her.

Just the thought alone made me get closer and closer to my orgasm. And the tightening of my walls caused her to get closer as well.

“Cum with me princessa. Cum with mommy” with a loud cry of her name I came around her strap soaking it with my juices. Not even seconds later I felt her still and the warmth of her cum filling my womb. With a couple more small thrusts to make the cum go deeper she collapsed on top of me with a sigh.

After a few minutes she begins to pull out causing me to whine and she stops.

“My needy slut. I’ll stay in you for a little but then we have to clean you up and get you some water.” Moving around a bit she finally settled in with me laying on top of her strap still buried inside me and drops of her cum leaking out.

Tag List: @alexawynters @username23345 @casquinhaa @idontknow-llol @delulu-bayolet-era @dorabledewdroop @bananasplits-world

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #dark wanda maximoff #marvel #wanda maximoff x fem reader #wanda marvel #wanda x you #wanda x reader #mommy wanda #wandavision #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff mom #mcu wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader smut #wanda x fem reader #wanda x y/n #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda smut #mcu #mcu wanda #wanda mcu #marvel wanda #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #wanda #scarlett witch #wanda maximoff fanfiction

[lizziesribbons]

Quiet |

PAIRING: MOMMY! WANDA MAXIMOFF X FEM! READER

Summary: Wanting attention from Wanda on a day off, you find yourself on her lap, her fingers buried deep inside you as she attends her online meeting.

Warnings: Smut 18+ men and minors dni!!!! Degradation, but aftercare at the end: omg, fingering, slight choking if you squint, pet names (baby, bunny, princess)

Author's note: just reminding you guys that my first language is not English, so if there are any grammatical errors, PLEASE IGNORE THEM AND MOVE TF ON. Also, I'm pretty fucking awkward when I'm writing.

Wc: 1.5k

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It was a Sunday. You woke up from your afternoon nap hoping you would find your girlfriend right next to you with her legs tangled in yours, but that wasn't the case. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked for her, calling out her name. You looked around, not getting an answer, so you stood up from your bed and went outside your shared bedroom. "Wandaaaaaaa," you shouted. "In here, darling," you heard her say. The voice was coming from her home office, so you made your way over there and knocked. You knew better than to just barge into your girlfriend's office. Wanda was anything but soft regarding this; she has told you many times not to disturb her while she's working in her home office, as she said something like, "You're a big distraction; I can't focus when you're around," so you respected her privacy.Wanda called you in, and you went inside, seeing her sitting in her work chair. Her laptop was open, but you didn't bother to see what she was doing. She was wearing a white, almost see-through shirt with no bra that made you throb between your legs. "Yes, detka?" You made your way over and sat on her lap, not giving her time to object. "What are you doing, mama?"

Wanda smiled, giving you the tiny bit of attention you desperately craved. She rubbed your back softly as you lean more in. "Just some work, bunny. I've got a Zoom meeting with my boss in 5 minutes," she said as she rubbed soothing circles down your back.You made a quick "ohhh" face and said, "Mommy, can I kiss you?" She stops you from leaning in too close. "Just a peck, sweetheart. I don't want my lipstick all smugged in my face, okay?" You nod as you lean in closer, holding her face and kissing her. Not being able to stop, you start to kiss her deeper as Wanda holds you by your neck and yanks you away. "I told you, just a peck! Look, my lipstick is ruined now, bunny," she said, looking at you with a smile. "Sorry, m' mmy, I couldn't help  myself." You mumble as you blush in embarrassment. Wanda's facial expressions change suddenly into something darker, her smile converting into a smirk as she looks at you as her innocent doll.

"Is my baby needy for mommy's attention? All icky down there need mommy's help." She talks to you like a person would to their dog or any pet. "Please." You whine, not understanding why she's teasing you. All of a sudden, "No baby, I have my meeting in less than a minute." She shifts and makes you face the other way, so your back is facing her. "But you will not be going anywhere because I don't trust you in this state. You're a desperate slut, and you will go against mommy's orders and touch yourself, so just stay quiet and sit still in my lap." You nod while whining as you adjust yourself in her lap.

Wanda started the meeting, the first 10 minutes were okay you were sitting comfortably in her lap until suddenly her hands starts roaming around, you look back at her to see what she's up to but you were only met with a straight face as she paid no mind to you at all, her hands reached the waistband of the underwear you were wearing as she takes them down you let out a quiet moan as soon as the air touch your clit, Wanda muted the call all of a sudden and softly whispered in your ear "be quiet" as she continue on like nothing happened, her index and middle fingers starts to rub your clit as you throw your head back over her shoulder arching your back to lean your hips more into her giving her more access as she rubs harder, she wents on talking to her boss about work like she's literally not making you a desperate mess over here on her lap Her fingers find their way to your entrance, and she puts two of them in as you try your best to not make a sound, but as she starts rubbing your clit while pumping her fingers in, you can't help but whimper, which makes Wanda hold your neck and put a little pressure on you as she whispered in your ear,

"Shhhh, shut up. You don't want mommy's boss hearing how much of a slut you are now, do you?" You shake your head as you try your best not to moan. Her hand leaves your neck and goes under your shirt, tugging and rolling your nipple harshly as you arch your back, letting out a soft moan. Wanda is quick to remove her fingers from your pussy, and before you can whine, she puts them in your mouth to shut you up and whispers in your ear, "You fucking slut, you can't keep quiet for a minute." "Miss Maximoff, is everything alright?" Wanda heard her boss say, "Yeah, no, I actually have something to do. I'm so sorry. Can we move this meeting? I'll meet you tomorrow at the office if that's alright." With that, they say their greetings, and Wanda shuts her laptop off, her fingers still in your mouth, making you suck on them greedily.

"Fuck bunny, you are so hot for mommy, like a bitch in heat. I bet you want to be fucked so bad, don't you, baby?" She asked with faux innocence as you desperately nodded, blabbering something around her fingers, which Wanda only just laughed at. "You're so needy; it's pathetic; really, I feel sorry for you." Wanda watched you with amusement as you tried your best not to just hump the desk infront. Suddenly, two of her fingers entered you and immediately started Thursting inside, adding another finger, she kept hitting your weakest spot. Three of her fingers in your pussy and two of them in your mouth were turning her on so much as she let out a deep moan, "You love this, don't you? Ugh, I know you do bunny, you love getting filled by mommy in both your holes." She takes her fingers out and chokes you, making you arch your back as you were trapped between the desk and her as she fingers you at an animalistic pace.

“Mommy’s going to make this pretty pussy soak my lap. Yeah? You like that idea, bunny?" you could only just moan louder as she thrusts harder she cursed to herself at how hot you looked in this position all spread out on her lap as she fucks you, taking your top off in one swift motion she squeeze your breast roughly taking her time with both your breasts "are you gonna cum for mommy" she seductively whisper in your ear "ye s y yes let me come mommy please please" you somehow let out a full sentence between screams and moans "come for mommy come all over her lap like the dirty slut you are" as soon as that sentence left her mouth your whole body went numb against her as you reached your climax she carefully fucked you through your aftershocks as she slowly takes her fingers out loving the sight of them glistening with your juices "suck them clean" she said putting them on your mouth the green in her eyes fully gone converted into something dark she turns you around and carefully put you on the desk "no mommy I'm too tired please" she holds your thighs down as you try to back her off "just trust mommy okay I'm just gonna clean you up" she carefully laps at your pussy licking it clean moaning at your taste "fuck detka you taste so fucking good" she said as she kissed you and stood up "let's go have our nap which I rudely interrupted okay?" You happily but weakly nodded as she carried you with her to the bedroom, laying you down on the bed.

"You want water," Wanda asks, holding a glass of water. "No, just want mommy, please," you say as you did grabby hands. Wanda understood and laid down beside you, cuddling herself into you. "My perfect little bunny, I love you so much, baby. Mommy loves you the most," she says as she hears your light snores, which lull her to sleep.

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x y/n #wanda maximoff #lizzie olsen #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff smut #wanda fanfic #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximov #wanda x reader #wanda x you #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader

[georgiapeach30513]

I Can See You

Summary:  Steve was new to this modern world.  And trying to figure out the technology and all he wanted was home.  Looking up 1940s women, he wasn’t prepared for what he sees.  You. Feeding into his every fantasy, and then some. It becomes an obsession a need to see you everyday. To have you everyday. To keep you. Every. Day. In his bed. Just where you belong

Pairings:  Steve Rogers X Cam Girl!Reader

Rating:  Explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, online sex work, cam girl, masturbation, toy play, butt plug, squirting, licking, kidnapping, obsession, dark, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  2K 

Steve Rogers Masterlist

“You should date,” Steve turns to look towards Natasha, glowering at her.  “What?  Dating is normal.  What do you have against dating?”

“Dating is different now than it was when…never mind you wouldn’t understand,” he goes to stand, but Natasha pulls at his arm, “What?”

“I get it.  The women now aren’t like the women in the 1940s, but is that a bad thing?  Look, Google is your friend.  I’m sure there’s someone out there who believes in your weird standards for women.  Guess what, Steve?  Some even wear the clothes, too.  Google is your friend.”

Google is your friend.  A sentiment that was running through Steve’s mind the rest of the day.  Google is a friend.  Was a friend?  How could a search engine be a friend?  How could he find anything that was remotely close to the 1940s in modern times.  How could he ever find someone that held his values, and how would he know?

Settling in at home, his eyes scan over the stupid phone.  Who needed a phone that could do anything more than call people.  But there was a Google on there.  Women of today weren’t hideous creatures, but there was something in the ones that he had met.  They weren’t…exactly what he was looking for.  Too eager and leaving nothing to the imagination.

Google is your friend, but it was just a stupid machine.  Nothing ever made sense in this time.  People had taken something simple and made it nonsensically more difficult.  And for what reason?  But there the phone sits, and if Google was a friend, how could it help Steve?

What could a machine possibly do for Steve? How could it help his need to get out some frustrations? Things weren’t the same, and they definitely didn’t look the same. But he was told Google had archived photos. And videos…

Reaching quickly to the phone, but only because he was bored, and everyone needed to get off from time to time. His fingers search for the buttons he’s looking for before he hits search. Anticipating it would take much longer than the instant gratification of women upon women, and then a short clip.  Legs that were covered in hosiery, and a quick squat of the woman.  Her skirt flares up, exposing her bum to Steve.

He watches that clip way too many times before clicking on it.  Taking him straight to your website.  Pictures of you dressed in the most beautiful 1940s frocks, and posing with the prettiest smile and brightest red lips.  Unfairly there are some photos with strategically placed blocks over your body.  A button demands him to click it, and there’s even more photos.

Still these photos are annoyingly blocked out, but adding a credit card he would have access to remove them.  Steve sets his phone down, taking a deep breath.  His cock was pressing hard against his pants at just the tease of your body.  He knew what he was going to get.  You.  Every part of you.  Playing into his every fantasy while you whimpered his name.

Standing up, he awkwardly paces his living room.  He wants to see it all.  It was like you catered to just him.  What could thirty dollars a month hurt.  He would get to wake up to see you.  Go to bed stroking his cock.  It wouldn’t hurt.  It wouldn't be a distraction.  This is what he needed.

He doesn’t hesitate to put in his credit card information, and he hears the sound of your voice, “Welcome, Soldier,” why did that sound so sexy?  Not even knowing what some of the buttons mean, he just wants to look at you.  You are a dirty girl.  Showing every part of yourself, and watching you ride a red dildo while your tits bounce around has him quaking where he sits.

A ping in the corner of his phone makes him lose focus, ‘Thanks for the payment.  What would you like me to call you?’

He couldn’t let people know that America’s golden boy was watching fetish porn, and a very specific fetish of a 1940s housewife.  ‘Captain.’

‘Hey, Captain, are you new around here?’

‘Yes.  Brand new.’

‘Aww, for new subscribers I always give them a private video.  What would you like to see, Captain?  Whatever it is you want.  For your eyes only.’

‘How often do I get private videos?’

‘First one is free.’

‘I want one every morning and evening.’

‘Oh, Captain, you are a naughty boy,’ Steve’s cock trembles at your words.  He just wishes he could hear your voice.  ‘I tell you what Captain, let me do the first one, and you can decide after if you want to continue our private little conversations.  How does that sound, big boy?’

‘Yeah, okay.’

‘Are you hard right now?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you want to see my pussy?  I can show you what toys I have.’

‘Okay,’ he takes a deep breath as his chat turns into a live video feed, and there your pretty face was.  Giving him a quick wave before turning the camera to your treasure trove of toys.

“Which will it be, Captain?  Can I turn your mic on so I can hear you?  I get off to men with pretty sounds?” Responding with a yes, you turn on his mic, letting him look at every toy.  They were all shapes, but one particularly caught his eyes.  

“That one,” it wasn’t a genius to figure out which one he was talking about.  The red white and blue one.  With a name like Captain, he seemed to have a bit of a Captain America kink.

“I have something else that matches,” you sweetly tell him.  Moving over to something Steve had early heard about.  A pretty little butt plug with his shield on the end.  “You want to see me stuffed fully, Captain?”

“I would like that,” his voice cracks, and you realize just how innocent he is to this brand of porn.

“Is it because you like sharing your dames?” Steve groans out yes as you position the phone on a tripod.  “Who would you share me with?”

“A friend.  He…he’d get your ass.”

“Oh, yeah?” You ask as you stuff the plug into your ass.  You were sure he’d love seeing you ready for him.  Coming back into frame, you place the dildo on the floor, and turn to look at him.  “What would you like your doll to do, Captain?” Finger in your mouth, you playfully tease him.  

He would love to take his time and watch you more carefully, but his cock is angry and in desperate need of release.  “I want to see…see you…I want,” the sweet boy was struggling with what he wanted to view.  Stuttering, and unable to vocalize exactly what it was he needed.

“You want me to slowly,” you undo each button carefully.  Steve didn’t want slow.  Steve wanted to fuck you.  This would work for now.  But…

“No.  Not slow.  Put…I want to see the shield.”

“Of course you do, Captain,” it was like the angels parted the clouds, and there was heaven right in your tits.  Taking off your bra, you give your nipples a little pinch before walking over to the toy.  

“Don’t wait,” he mutters as you move to your knees.  He tries to pretend it's his cock you’re grabbing as you sink over the cock.  It wasn’t the perfect view, but he sees that red, white, and blue cock split you open.  A little glimpse of that shield in your ass.  

Hands in front of you, you lean forward, and there it was.  That shield in your ass.  “Fuck yourself.  And turn back to look at me,” peeking over your shoulder you give him a sly grin.  Moving over the toy.

“I hear you, Captain.  How good does my pussy feel?”

“So good,” he grunts out, pumping his fist around his cock.  Why had he neglected to do this for so long.  “My pussy.”

“Yes, Captain.  This pussy is all yours.”

“Mine.”

“It’s so warm, and wet, and…how tight is your pussy?”

It’d be tighter once he had someone to stuff your ass.  Get to watch you come over two cocks, while you beg for him to pet you.  “Oh, Captain, you feel so good.”

He’d feel better if that was his actual cock.  “Captain, you’re so deep.”

That cock was nothing to Steve’s size.  He would make you have tears in your eyes as you took every bit of his length and girth.  “Captain, I love the way you feel when you’re in my stomach. You’re so deep,” you give a smirk to the camera as your juices spill onto the floor.

“Oops,” giggling.  The giggles.  The mess.  “I made such a mess for you, Captain.  You got me so wet.”

“Yeah.  Go harder.  Make your Captain proud,” your ass cheeks recoil as you bounce fast.  Stretched out so pretty, and still spurting your mess into the floor.  He’d have to spank you for being such a sloppy little slut.  Make you watch Bucky’s tongue lap up all your mess.  

Your cream coats that dildo, and he knows you are capable of so much more.  “Captain!”

“Don’t you dare stop,” he growls, choking on his cock.  He was almost there.  Could practically feel your walls clench around him.

“Captain!”

“I know.  Be a good girl, and come,” you scream out as euphoria shoots down to your nether regions.  Wishing that he could choke you in that moment.  There weren't too many things you hadn’t experienced in this line of work.  But there was this demanding quality to this Captain.  

“Now, be good for Captain, and clean up your mess.  With your tongue,” you want to scream.  That is the hottest shit you have ever heard.  Demanding that you clean up your own mess.  “I’d have someone help you.”

“You want someone to come play with me?”

“Yeah, but they’ll leave.  You have to let your Captain take care of you.”

“And Captain always takes the best care with his pussy, too.”

“Mine,” he lets the word roll off his tongue, while you licks up your arousal.  His.  All.  His.

——

Opening up your apartment door, you stand at the entrance for far too long.  There were roses on the table.  A dozen roses from the looks of it.  Steve was becoming steadily more needy.  Wanting to monopolize your time so you couldn’t find new clients.  It was fine at first, until he became too obsessive.

Playful possession had turned into something he in fact demanded.  You look down the hallway of your complex, unsure if you wanted to go in.  This was a job that was for extra money, and Steve had made it clear he demanded you and wanted you when he wanted it.  And now the roses.

Of course those roses could be from anyone, but you knew they weren’t. They were in your fucking apartment.  They were only from one person.  Him.  Captain.  The hall was too quiet.  Just as quiet as your home.  It was like you were the only one in the room.  In the building.

“Steve?” You ask, taking a step back into the hall.  An unfamiliar smell is surrounding you.  Clean.  Fresh.  It was him.  

“Steve?” You tremble.  Ready to bolt.  Anywhere but here.  You had to cut him off.  The money wasn’t even that good.  He had lost his mind.

“Steve?” Yelping when arms wrap around your waist, but his hand covers your mouth gently.  Pressing his nose to your neck, he inhales deeply.  

“Honey, I’m home.  And I expect you to say my name properly.  I can’t have you available to any other men.  Your site has been taken down.  Your apartment will be swept.  All those toys trashed, because you have the real Captain now.  It’ll be like you never existed.  Your new life starts today.  And I’ll make sure you are the perfect housewife for me.  Bear my children, and live to serve me.  Now, be a good girl, and thank your Captain for rescuing you.”

His hand is now wet from the tears that spill onto him, and you try and shake your head no.  “Say, thank you, my Captain.”

“Thank you, my Captain,” you sound like a scared mouse.  And he knows it.  With one  maniacal chuckle he starts dragging you down the hallway.  No one will ever remember you.  No one will ever rescue you.  You are now his.  And he has no intention of letting you go.

Now…thank him.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season​ @marveloustaylortot​ @pono-pura-vida​ @sstan-hoe​ @missusbarnes-rogers​ @peaches1958​ @seitmai​ @smile1318​ @andydrysdalerogers​ @cjand10​ @midnightramyeoncravings​ @donutloverxo​ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ @bambamwolf87​ @harrysthiccthighss​

#i can see you #steve rogers #steve rogers x cam girl #steve rogers x cam girl!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fics #steve rogers fic #chris evans #chris evans characters #marvel #dark!steve rogers

[cherienymphe]

Basic Training Masterlist (Peter Parker x Reader)

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

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

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➯ dividers by @straywords​​

 ➥ Peter’s POV (after Ch. 11)

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

[bossbtch1]

Golden Boy of America

Summary : What if Steve Rogers wasn't the revered symbol of American virtue that everyone believed him to be? Contrary to the public perception of his kindness and charm, you've come to realize it was all a façade. Now, you find yourself in a nightmarish scenario—kidnapped and bound, questioning everything you thought you knew about the man once hailed as the golden boy of America.

Pairings : Dark!Steve Rogers x f!reader

Words : 6,9k

General tags : SMUT, 18+, NSFW

TW : dark fic, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, degradation, non-con, dirty talk, oral sex, smut, vibrator, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, rough sex, p in v, overstimulation, breeding kink, forced impregnation

A/N : This has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and I've been going back and forth, tweaking the story to add a darker twist. I've always felt like there's more beneath the surface of Captain America's heroic façade, he did good and sacrificed everything for the world. What if he's not as perfect as he seemed? And you had to be the one who found out about his true side, his dark side. That's the premise of this one shot, enjoy~

Before you continue, please read TW again. This is a dark!fic and explicit, strictly for readers 18+.  I don't condone any of this kind of thinking in real life, this is purely fan fiction. Please, DO NOT PROCEED if these themes disturb you. Please don't read if this content is not your cup of tea, you've been warned.

My masterlist

The sound of a car door slamming shut is the last thing you remember before everything went black. A dull ache in your head is what you first felt when you woke up.

When you open your eyes, you find that your hands and legs are bounded by rope and tape, the coldness of the floor and walls send shivers down your spine. It takes a few seconds for you to process the situation you were in. The first thing that came into mind was where you were, who did this and why? Your memories were all a blur, you can't remember how you got into this predicament.

You hear a door open from somewhere, it echoes in the empty space, making the hairs on your arm stand up. You start to feel anxious and scared as your heart beats loudly. "Hello?" You say and the voice bounces off the walls, not knowing who was behind this.

"Good, you're awake now." A familiar voice speaks out, walking into the room. Your eyes widen in shock, mouth agape.

"S-Steve? W-What's going on? Why am I here?" You ask him, fear evident in your voice. Steve doesn't answer and stares at you blankly. He's standing right in front of you. "Answer me!" You demand but he remains silent, only looking at you.

"You don't have the right to tell me what to do." He said with a dark expression. 

"What the fuck, Steve!" you said as you were tied to a chair. The ropes were tight enough to not get out of but loose enough so it doesn't hurt. "Let me go, Steve, you bastard!"

He was standing in front of you with his arms crossed and a stoic expression. His jaw was clenched tight and he looked like he was going to kill someone.

"Why should I? So, you can escape and go tell on me? Tell everyone what a bad man I am? Huh?" Steve said as he walked up to you and grabbed your chin forcing you to look at him. "You know I can't let you do that."

He kept you in a small bedroom. The wallpaper was torn, revealing the rotten wood behind it. A single bed and a rickety drawer stood as the only furnishings. The window had its shutters closed, allowed no glimpse of the outside world and there was only a single light bulb illuminating the room. It gave a very eerie feeling.

"Steve, let me go." You said in a low voice.

"I can't do that." He said, running his fingers through his hair. "If I do, they will find me and put me in jail."

"Steve, they will not find you. I swear I won't tell anyone." You said as you tried to get up. But Steve came up and pushed you back to the chair.

"Stop. Fucking. Moving." He said in a menacing tone. "You're not the boss here. I am." He said.

"Do you think you can just imprison me like this?" you shouted, your voice cracking with frustration. "What you're doing is cruel and inhumane!"

A chilling smile crept across Steve's lips as he retorted, "Oh, I can, and I will. You're not the first, and you won't be the last. I have my reasons, and I won't let you ruin everything I've worked for."

Your voice trembled with shock and disbelief, "What do you mean I'm not the first? There were others before me? What happened to them? Who are you?!"

"I've always been Steve Rogers, the same person you met and fell for. As for the others, they were my mistakes, and I fixed them." Steve replied in a casual tone as if talking about the weather. "Don't worry, sweetheart, you won't have to worry about that. I won't make the same mistakes twice."

"What happened to them?" you asked, feeling the blood drain from your face.

"That's none of your concern, sweetheart. You don't need to worry about them. All you need to worry about is obeying me."

You couldn't believe that the man in front of you was the same person you'd known. "I will not obey you, Steve."

He laughed as he sat on the bed, "You’re not the Steve I know. You're fucking insane! You're no hero!" You screamed at him, "I saw you kill that man, Steve. You took his life without a shred of remorse."

He shook his head. "Y/N it was necessary. He was a criminal, and it was self-defense."

"No it wasn’t!" you raised your voice. “You had other options, you could have spared his life, but you didn't. You killed him because you're a psychopath!"

He ignored your statement and said, "I told you, you should have never followed me. You've made this very hard for yourself." He crossed his arm, "I warned you, I tried so fucking hard so you wouldn't see any of this, but you just had to follow me."

He was right, if you listened to him and didn’t follow him, you wouldn’t end up like this. You didn't know how to respond.

"How do I know you're not going to kill me next?"

"Oh, please, if I was going to kill you, I would have done it the minute I brought you here." He said, rolling his eyes. "Besides, why would I kill you when you could be so much more useful to me alive."

"Useful?"

"Yeah. I could use some help." He said as he walked closer to you.

"What kind of help?" you asked.

He smirked and licked his lips. "The fun kind."

"Steve, what are you talking about?" you asked, fearing the answer.

He leaned in closer and whispered into your ear. "I'm sure you'll be a good girl and obey."

You didn't like where this was going. "Steve, please let me go." you whispered, trying not to cry. You were scared, you were tied to a chair and no one knew where you were. You were scared of what Steve was going to do to you.

"You're begging already?" He laughed dryly. "It hasn't even been 20 minutes."

"Please." You sighed and tried to break free from the ropes. "You can't keep me here, Steve. Please"

"I can do anything I want." he whispered, his face getting closer to yours. You tried to lean back, but there was no room. You could feel his breath fanning over your face. You shut your eyes.

"You don't want to do this, Steve." You said.

"Don't I?" he asked, tilting his head. "Because it seems like I do."

"Please..." You opened your eyes, you had tears forming in them. You were scared, he could do anything he wanted to you, and there was nothing you could do about it.

"You look so pretty when you beg, you know that?" he said, his face inches from yours.

"Steve, don't do this. Please" You begged.

He ran his fingers over your cheek and wiped away the tear that was threatening to fall. "Shame that it had to be like this."

"Steve... I-I promise I won't tell anyone." you whimpered, flinching at his touch. You didn't want him to touch you.

He shook his head. "You've seen what I did."

"It was an accident. We can get out of this," you pleaded, your voice laden with desperation, seeking any flicker of empathy in his eyes.

"No. We can't. This was inevitable. Don't worry, sweetheart. You're going to love it here," Steve declared with an unsettling certainty, his tone almost comforting, as if he genuinely believed the twisted reality he was creating.

"Steve, please. You can't keep me here. If not for you, at least do it for our friendship. Please, let me go"

"This will be the last time you beg, Y/N. I will not repeat myself. You're not going anywhere. This will be your new home"

"It won't be," you insisted, defiance laced with fear.

"You'll see, in time, you'll change your mind." Steve's response echoed through the room, the unsettling assurance leaving you with a sinking feeling of dread as the realization set in that escape seemed increasingly improbable.

The room seemed to close in, the peeling wallpaper and the flickering light bulb casting eerie shadows that danced around the space, creating an atmosphere of both captivity and impending menace.

Your hand struggled against the rope as you watched him. Your eyes wide and frightened. "You see, my sweet Y/N. I've got my eye on you for quite a while. Maybe after I've had my fun with you, I'll consider letting you go. Who knows" he smiled at you, his hand caressing your lips. You felt sick.

"Don't you dare touch me" you hissed, jerking your face away from him. His eyes flashed with anger for a second before it was gone. 

"You don't have a choice" he chuckled. He took hold of your jaw and brought his face closer to yours, his lips a breath away. "I will enjoy making you scream and beg for mercy."

You felt his hands trail down your neck and down to the top of your shirt. He looked up at you before ripping your shirt open, making the buttons fly across the room. You gasped as you felt the cool air hit your skin. You were left in your bra, the thin lace fabric the only thing protecting you.

"Don't" 

"Don't what?" He grinned and pulled your bra straps down, exposing your breasts. You tried to cover yourself but you couldn't. You were still tied to the chair, and he was stronger than you.

"Please. Just stop" You felt tears roll down your cheeks.

"Oh, honey. This is just the beginning" He took one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger and twisted it, making you gasp in pain. He leaned down and took your other nipple into his mouth, sucking on it. You squirmed under his touch, trying to push him away, but he held onto your wrists and kept you in place.

"Stop! Please, Steve. I'm sorry!"

"No. I don't think you're sorry" he growled as he moved to your neck and bit down. He sucked on the sensitive skin, making sure he left a mark.

"Stop!" you exclaimed, trying to push him off you. He chuckled at your efforts, then next he was moving his hands down your waist and stopping at the top of your jeans.

"Now, be a good girl and stay still. Wouldn't want to ruin such pretty underwear, now would we?" he asked as he slowly pulled your pants down. Your breathing sped up and you started to squirm.

"Steve, stop, please, I'm sorry, just let me go, please" you pleaded, tears pricking your eyes. You couldn't believe that he was doing this.

"Stop with the dramatics, princess. It won't change a thing. Just sit back and enjoy, it'll feel better if you relax" he cooed, pulling your jeans down to your ankles. You felt a sob escape your throat as he looked down at you, his eyes looking hungry and lustful.

"Please, don't do this, Steve, please"

"Shh, princess, I'm going to make you feel good, okay? But, first, I gotta take these off" he murmured, reaching for your panties. Your breathing stopped, and you felt yourself shake.

"Steve" you whimpered, shaking your head. Tears were falling down your face, and Steve was wiping them away. 

"Such a pretty sight. You're gonna look so pretty covered in my marks" he whispered as he leaned down and started to suck on your neck. You let out a strangled moan as you tried to move your head away from him.

"Get off, you creep" you groaned, trying to kick him away. He didn't seem fazed and just held your hips down. He was much stronger than you, and the more you struggled, the harder his grip became.

"That's it, baby. Squirming like a little slut" he murmured, moving his hand down and under your panties. You shook your head frantically, trying to kick him away again.

"Don't touch me, please" you begged, closing your legs tightly. He looked up at you, his blue eyes darkening with lust. "Steve, get off me!"

"You know, I've seen the way you've looked at me. Like a piece of meat" He was right, you couldn’t lie, you were attracted to him ever since you first saw him. Who wasn’t attracted to him? He was kind and gentle. Even right now after you found out who he really was, you still feel attracted to him. You knew you shouldn’t be. 

“You’re disgusting!” You spat in defiance, you were in denial. 

"You say that now, but I'll have you screaming my name"

"I'll never scream your name, you pervert."

"We’ll see about that, princess.” he murmured, kissing down your stomach. You shivered as you felt his warm breath fanning over your stomach. You didn't want him this close. 

Steve then chuckled as he moving his fingers in circles on your clit. “You don’t want me but why are you already wet huh?” You were shaking your head, trying to get him to stop. But it felt so good. 

Steve then chuckled as he moving his fingers in circles on your clit. “You don’t want me but you sure are wet, darling. So, what is it, hm? Tell me, are you wet because you want me or is it something else?” He pushed a finger inside of you, making you gasp. He began pumping his finger in and out, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“Fuck. I've always wondered what you would feel like. So tight and warm." He continued pumping his finger in and out of you, and you tried to hold back a moan. You couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he was pleasuring you.

"Scream my name, princess."

"Never." You said through clenched teeth. 

"That's fine, sweetheart, I can do this all day." He smirked.

You could feel his finger moving inside of you, hitting the spot that made your legs tremble. You tried to hold back a moan, but he knew what he was doing.

"Oh fuckkk," you whispered, a sob escaping your throat. His eyes were dark and hungry, and his movements became rougher.

"That's right, princess, be a good girl for me" he groaned, moving his fingers inside you. You moaned, feeling him thrust his fingers in and out. He moved his lips back to your neck, biting and sucking. He added another finger and curled his fingers inside of you.

You let out a small moan, and he smirked. "Come on, princess, you can do better than that."

He added a third finger and thrust them faster, making your hips buck. He was moving his fingers faster and faster, and you could feel yourself getting closer.

You couldn't stop the moans from escaping. Your body betrayed you.

He continued curling his fingers inside of you, and you felt a pressure building up.

"P-please, st-stop, I don't- I don't w-want" you whispered, a sob escaping your throat. His eyes were dark and hungry, and his movements became rougher.

"What, princess, don't wanna have some fun?"

"No, I-I don't want th-this"

"Stop lying to yourself, princess.” He said as he kissed your cheeks. “You're so pretty like this, Y/N. All vulnerable and defenseless"

"I'm not-"

"Oh, baby, I know. But don't worry, I'll make you feel so good."

"Fuck, Steve"

"That's right, baby, moan my name. You sound so beautiful." He laughed and continued thrusting his fingers. You squeezed your eyes shut as his fingers went deeper, hitting your g-spot.

"Beg me, princess. Beg me to make you come.” he said, moving his fingers faster. Your breathing sped up as he added a third finger, stretching your hole. 

"Screw you!" You refused to beg him, not giving him the satisfaction.

"You will. You'll beg me to make you come, and then you'll beg me to fuck you. You'll beg me to use your body until I've had my fill."

You shook your head, biting your bottom lip. He began rubbing your clit again, causing your legs to shake. You could feel your climax approaching, and you didn't know whether to be relieved or scared. "I can feel how close you are. Say it, princess. Beg me."

Then when you were about to cum, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you feeling empty. You wanted to cry. "No!" You panted, trying to catch your breath.

"Not yet, princess. You know what I want, princess. Tell me." He purred, licking his fingers clean. You knew what he wanted, you still refused.

He laughed. "You're really gonna make me do this, aren't you?"

You were so confused. You didn't know what he meant. "You're gonna make me show you just how bad you need this."

He got up from the bed and walked over to the closet. He opened the doors and reached inside, pulling out a bag.

"What is that?" you asked, nervously.

He turned and looked at you. He opened the bag and pulled out a long, thin, pink vibrator. Your eyes went wide, you began to tremble. You were terrified. He was going to use that on you.

He held the vibrator up to your face and pressed a button, making it hum. You shook your head at him, "Steve No!"

He walked back over to you and crouched down in front of you. He ran his hand down your thigh, before spreading your legs, "Such a pretty pussy, princess." he murmured, tracing a finger along your folds.

He put the vibrator between your legs, pressing it against your clit.

"Fuck! Don't!" you moaned, trying to get away. He grabbed your hair and pulled you closer to him. "Oh, princess, you're gonna cum on this. Then, you're gonna cum on my cock. And, after that, you're gonna beg me for more."

You let out a sob as he pressed the vibrator harder against your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel yourself getting close again. "Please, Steve."

He pressed the vibrator against your clit harder, making you moan. You didn't want him touching you there, but you couldn't stop the pleasure. "Tell me what you want, Y/N"

"Steve, I can't. I don't want it, I can't, please"

"But, you do, princess. You're already wet for me. You want this."

You shook your head, trying to get away from the vibrator. He held onto your hips, keeping you still. He leaned forward and licked your nipple. He sucked your nipple, making you arch your back.

He turned up the intensity of the vibrator, causing your hips to buck. He let go of your nipple and moved the vibrator lower, rubbing it against your entrance.

"Fuck! Stop, Steve. I-I can't. It's too much!"

"Oh, baby, this is nothing. Just wait until I start fucking you."

You were getting closer, the pleasure almost unbearable. "Steve, please. Stop. Please. I can't. I'm gonna-"

He turned up the intensity of the vibrator. "Say it. Or I'll make this last even longer. I'll keep you here all night, and the whole time, I'll be inside you."

You moaned and closed your eyes. "Please… Steve…”

He chuckled. "I like hearing you beg, princess." He turned the vibrator off and moved it back up to your clit. He slowly pushed it into your tight cunt.

"I can't…."

He smirked, "Oh, baby, we've just gotten started."

He turned the vibrator on and fucked you with it. You arched your back and moaned. He grabbed your hair and pulled you up. You let out a whimper as he kissed you, hard. He pulled away and licked your neck. "You're such a slut for me, princess. You will love it when I fuck you."

You shook your head, trying to get him to stop. "Please, Steve. Stop."

He ignored you, thrusting the vibrator deeper inside you.

You were about to cum when he suddenly pulled the vibrator out. "Steve, please, I need-"

Everytime you were close to cum, he would turn the vibrator off,  making you frustrated and horny. "I can do this all day, princess."

You couldn't take it anymore, "Please Steve! Please let me cum, I can't take it anymore, please" You cried, tears streaming down your cheeks. You really needed to cum so bad, he was edging you so hard.

You hated yourself for begging him. He kept the vibrator pressed against your clit, and with his other hand, he began fucking you with his fingers again.

He grinned, "What's the magic word?"

"Please…."

"Wrong answer, princess." He chuckled and stood up. He turned the vibrator on and started walking towards you. He held the vibrator against your clit and rubbed it in slow circles. "Now, be a good girl and spread your legs."

You took a deep breath and slowly spread your legs, revealing your dripping cunt. “Good girl.” 

"Yes, oh god, Steve, please." You were moaning and panting, trying to hold off your orgasm, but he was making it impossible. "I can't hold back much longer, Steve, I'm so close. Please don’t stop." You were moaning, you didn’t care for anything, you needed to cum. 

But the moment you were about to cum, Steve stopped again, and removed the vibrator.

"Steve! No! Fuck!" You screamed, tears pricking your eyes. "What the fuck! Let me cum!"

He laughed, "So desperate. How long has it been since someone touched you like this? I can tell by your reactions that it's been a while." He turned on the vibrator again, “You will cum on my cock, now beg me to fuck you."

You were shaking, crying, "Fuck you, Steve. I'm not doing that."

He laughed, "Oh, I think you will. You're so desperate, Y/N, so close to the edge. You'll do anything to cum." He slowly undid his pants and stroking his cock in front of you. 

Your eyes widened as you stared at his length, you didn't think it was possible for a man to have such a huge cock. But, the sight of him stroking his cock was making you even wetter, and you couldn't help but want him to fuck you.

"Tell me you want me, tell me how much you want my cock."

"Steve, no. Please." You tried to close your legs, but he put the vibrator between them, spreading your lips and pushing the vibrator inside.

"If you don't, I'll just leave you here. Alone. Unsatisfied."

You were quiet, you shouldn’t want him, you should hold a little longer but he was being so good to you. It had been long since a guy made you felt like this. 

"Come on, princess. Tell me you want me to fuck you. Tell me how much you want me inside you. Tell me how bad you want my cock." He grinned as he kissed your clit, “I’ll give you as many orgasms as you want. I’ll fuck you better than any guy you know. I’ll make sure you will never be more satisfied than being with me again."

His words sent it toward your clit, you clenched your pussy hearing him said that. You were frustrated, sobbing, you needed release, and you didn't care about anything. You were going to beg.

 You caved in, "Fine! Fuck me, Steve. Please fuck me. I need your cock, please!"

He leaned forward and kissed you. He bit down on your bottom lip, and you gasped. He chuckled, "I bet you'd let me do anything right now, wouldn't you, princess?"

He turned the vibrator back on and started fucking you with it. You were crying and moaning, begging him to let you cum. You could feel your orgasm approaching, and you couldn't hold back anymore. "Fuck, please, Steve, fuck. I'm so close, I'm gonna cum. Fuck."

"Cum for me, princess.” 

You came screaming, your whole body convulsing. You were shaking and sweating, your body aching from the pleasure.

He turned off the vibrator and pulled it out of you. He kissed your cheek, "Such a good girl. I'm so proud of you, princess."

You were panting, trying to catch your breath. "I hate you."

"You don't mean that, baby. You're just a little overwhelmed. It's okay."

You looked at him, his eyes were soft and gentle, but you knew he was crazy. You were still tied up, helpless, and completely at his mercy. He was going to use his large cock to fuck you, and you couldn't do anything to stop him.

"Don't worry, princess, I'll take care of you. I promise."

He started to untie you and you were confused. Was he letting you go? You tried to scramble to ran away from him but you didn’t get far, he wrapped his arms on your waist lifting you. “Steve! Put me down now!”

He ignored you and brought you back to the bed. He put you down and pinned you, using his body weight to keep you still. "Don't think this changes anything."

He kissed you, hard and hungry. You tried to push him away but it was useless, he was too strong. "Fuck, baby, you taste so good." He kissed down your neck, biting and sucking as he went. He stopped at your breast, taking one nipple in his mouth and the other in his hand.

"Steve, please..."

"You want me to stop, Y/N?"

"Yes!"

"Well, that's too bad. Because I'm not stopping until I'm finished with you. And you're gonna love every minute of it. You're my girl, Y/N. I'm never letting you go.” 

"No, please...don't...stop...don't hurt me, Steve."

He smirked, "I'm not going to hurt you, baby. I'm going to make you feel good."

He let go of your wrists and reached down between your legs. You gasped as his fingers found your clit, rubbing it in slow circles. "God, you're so wet. So wet and ready for me."

"Stop..."

"No. I'm not stopping, princess. You're going to come for me, just like you did with the vibrator. And then, I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you all night long."

You tried to wiggle away from him, but it was no use. He was too strong. You tried to kick him, “Princess.” He warned, you stopped your movement, his tone made you scared. 

He then smiled, “Good girl.” 

You were trapped, at his mercy. He was going to hurt you, he was going to fuck you, and there was nothing you could do about it. You were his.

He slipped a finger inside of you, moving it in and out slowly. "Fuck, baby, you're so tight. You're gonna feel so good on my cock."

He added a second finger, stretching you even more. He kept pumping them in and out of you, making sure to hit your g-spot every time. You could feel another orgasm building.

"Oh God...oh fuck, Steve...please..."

"Please what, baby? Do you want me to stop?"

"No...don't stop...fuck, Steve..."

"Tell me, Y/N. Tell me what you want."

"I want...I want you to fuck me."

"You're such a dirty girl, Y/N. You're gonna come for me, aren't you?"

"Yes...oh God, Steve...yes...I'm gonna cum." He fucked you faster, harder, his fingers pounding into you. You couldn't hold back anymore, you threw your head back and screamed his name as you came, your whole body shaking with pleasure.

"Fuck, that's it, baby. You’re so beautiful, princess.” He didn't stop, he kept fucking you, his fingers buried deep inside you. You couldn't believe how good it felt, you had never been fucked like this before.

He kept rubbing your clit, prolonging your orgasm. You were panting and moaning, trying to catch your breath. "That's it, princess. That's it. Just like that."

He moved down and spread your legs wide open. "Fuck, baby. You're so fucking wet."

He licked your slit, tasting your juices. You moaned as he lapped at your folds, sucking and licking like his life depended on it.

He pulled back and looked up at you, "You taste so fucking good, baby. I could eat you all day long."

"Oh, god...please, Steve..."

"Please, what, princess? You want me to fuck you?"

"Yes..."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, please, fuck me, Steve."

"Fuck, I love when you beg, princess."

His cock was rock hard, the tip leaking precum. He grabbed the base and stroked it a few times before positioning himself between your legs. He lined himself up with your entrance, rubbing the tip through your folds, coating it in your wetness. "Fuck... Steve… It's not going to fit."

"It'll fit, princess. I promise." He slowly pushing inside of you, letting you adjust to his size. It hurt, but the feeling of him stretching you was incredible. He was so big and you felt so full. "God, you're so tight, Y/N. So wet. Do you like my cock, baby? Do you like the way it feels?"

"Oh god, Steve. So full." You moaned.

He started moving, thrusting into you. The pace was slow and steady, letting you get used to his size. "God, you feel so fucking good, princess. So fucking good."

It hurt at first, but the pain soon turned to pleasure. You were moaning, begging him for more. "Steve...faster..."

He grinned, "You want it faster, baby? You want me to fuck you faster?"

"Yes...please...faster..."

He quickened his pace, pounding into you. He grabbed your legs and put them over his shoulders, changing the angle and hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars.

"Fuck, yes, Steve!"

"That's it, baby. Scream my name. Scream my name as I fuck you."

"Oh, god...yes...please, Steve... harder!"

He groaned and started slamming into you, fucking you hard and fast. "Fuck, baby. You're such a slut, begging me to fuck you harder."

You were lost in pleasure, moaning and screaming his name. "That's it, baby. Tell me how good it feels, princess. Tell me how much you love it. Tell me how much you love my cock inside you."

"So good, Steve...it feels so good...I love you fucking me, Steve."

"Yeah, you do, don't you? You love being fucked by me huh?" He growled and pounded into you, harder and faster.

"I love it...please, Steve, more..." He felt so good inside you, you should've hating him, but all you wanted was more. You shouldn’t want him but fuck no one ever fucked you this good. "Yes, Steve, oh god, yes. Please fuck me."

"Yeah, baby, I'll fuck you. I'll fuck you hard. I'll fuck you until you can't walk." He began thrusting his hips, fucking you hard and fast. He sped up his thrusts, slamming into you harder and deeper. You were lost in the pleasure, not caring about anything else. All that mattered was him and how good he made you feel.

You were so close, you could feel your orgasm building. "Steve...I'm gonna come."

"Yeah? You gonna come, baby? You gonna come on my cock?"

"Yes..."

"Yeah, you are. You're gonna come all over my cock. You're gonna come for me, baby. Come on, princess. Come for me." He then went to sucked your neck and then bit it, hard. "Rub your clit, baby. Make yourself come. Rub that fucking clit while I fuck you."

You obeyed, reaching down and rubbing your clit. It only took a few seconds before you were coming, screaming his name and digging your nails into his back.

"Fuck, yes, princess. That's it. Come for me."

You were coming down from your high and he was still pounding into you

You moaned and came, your body shaking with pleasure.

He didn't stop, he kept fucking you through your orgasm, prolonging it. You were so oversensitive and it was almost too much, but you didn't want him to stop.

He pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up. "Oh, God, yes, Steve!" He slammed back into you, his pace relentless. "You like that, princess? You like me fucking you?"

"Yes! Oh, God, yes! Don't stop!"

He reached around and rubbed your clit, making you moan even louder. "Come for me, princess. Come for me again. I want to hear you scream."

You were close, you could feel your orgasm building again. He pinched your clit and that was it. You came, screaming his name. He continued to fuck you, not slowing down at all.

"God, I love it when you scream, princess. Keep screaming for me."

You were barely coming down from your orgasm and he was already pushing you towards another one. You couldn't take it, it was too much. You were oversensitive and it was almost too much. He leaned forward and kissed your neck, whispering in your ear, "That's it, baby. Take my cock. Take it all."

"Steve, please...it's too much...it's too much..."

"Shh, princess. I know. I know. But you can take it. You can take it, can't you, baby?"

"Yes..."

"Yeah, I know. I know you can. You're my good girl, aren't you?" He grabbed your hair and pulled your head back. "Now, say it. Say you're my good girl."

"I'm your good girl." 

"Fucking right you are." He said and went to fondled your breast while he pounded into you, his pace unforgiving. His trusts became erratic, you knew he was close.

Then you remember, he didn't wear a condom and you weren’t on birth control.  "Please pull out! Don't come inside of me, please! I’m not on birth control!”

He stopped, but didn't pull out. "You're kidding, right? What's the point in fucking you if I don't come inside of that tight pussy of yours? I'm gonna fill you up, make you mine."

You started to panic. "Please, you'll get me pregnant. Please don't come inside of me."

"No, you're mine now. And I'm gonna breed you, just like you deserve. You're going to give me what I want and you're going to take it."

"Please, don't come inside of me." Your breath came in gasps, you couldn't hold back your moans anymore, even though you were crying. You tried to push him off, but he didn't let you, didn't stop fucking you.

"Please, please don't. I'll do anything you want. Please just pull out, I'll let you fuck me every morning. I'll be your good girl, please just not inside." You were sobbing now, but your cunt was dripping.

“Your body says otherwise, princess.” He picked up his pace again. Fuck, you like this, don't you? You're so wet. You want to have my babies, don't you? Fuck, yeah, you're a good girl, begging for my cum."

He felt you trying to pull away and he slapped your ass, hard. "You're not going anywhere, princess. You're going to stay here and take my cock. I’m gonna fuck a baby into you." He moaned, his thrusts were becoming more desperate, his hand left your waist and moved to your clit, rubbing hard.

You whimpered and he slapped your ass again. "Don't fight me, princess. Just let go and enjoy it. You're already mine, and now you're going to have my baby. We're going to have a family, Y/N. You're not leaving me."

You gave up, your body submitting to him. He was in complete control and there was nothing you could do. He kept fucking you, going even faster and harder. "There you go, baby. That's it. Let me take care of you."

Your pussy started to contract and you screamed, a wave of pleasure rolling through you. "Yeah, fuck. I knew you'd like this. Fuck, you're squeezing me, that's it. Take it, take it all, be a good girl and take it."

He moaned and pumped into you harder, until his hips stuttered and his cock pulsed.

"Ahhhh!" You cried as he spilled his seed inside of you, filling your insides. He groaned at the feeling of you, warm and wet, squeezing around him. He let go of your wrists and wrapped both his arms around your waist. 

When he was finished, he stayed inside of you, breathing heavily. "Fuck, that was great. Best sex I ever had."

 When he pulled out, you felt his come dripping down your leg. "We can't waste this, can we?" He thrusted his finger into you, gathering his come. You were still shaking, not able to comprehend what just happened.

He shoved his finger into your mouth. "You'll be a good girl, won't you? Now clean my fingers.”

He shoved his fingers into your mouth, you were too exhausted to do anything, just opened your mouth and let him shove his fingers down your throat.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you and the baby." He whispered. "You'll be the perfect mom."

"Oh, no. We're not done yet." He grabbed your face with his clean hand, and pulled you into a kiss. He pushed his tongue inside of your mouth, tasting his cum. "You're such a good girl. Now, I'll give you a reward."

He got down on his knees and pushed your legs apart, then leaned forward, licking your clit. You moaned at the feeling of his tongue against your sensitive skin, but quickly bit your lip, trying to keep quiet.

He looked up at you. "Don't worry, honey. I love the sounds you make. So sweet. Keep making those noises for me." He moved his tongue over your clit, slowly, teasing.

He licked and sucked at your clit, while you moaned, the sensation almost too much. "I know you're sore, honey. But I wanna hear you come on my tongue. Be a good girl and come for me, can you do that?"

"Yes."

He continued sucking your clit, and moved his hand down to your pussy, pushing his fingers inside. He moved his fingers in and out of your pussy, slowly, but it was still too much.

"Please, Steve, make me come."

"That's my good girl." He moved his fingers faster, sucking harder, rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your moans were louder, your whole body felt hot.

"Steve, oh god, oh god, I'm coming."

You felt him smile against your clit, his tongue moving faster, sucking and licking. Your moans became screams, your legs were shaking, you felt the pressure building in your belly, your whole body shaking. You came hard, squirting on his face.

"You taste so sweet." He got up from his knees, his cock hard again, and pressed it against your pussy.

"Please, not again. It's too much. I-I'm too tired. I can't...I don't have any more energy." 

"I can give you energy, princess" He pushed into you, and you screamed, the feeling too intense. He pulled out and then slammed back into you, setting a brutal pace. He wrapped his arm around your waist, and moved his hips in a circular motion, the pressure in your belly building again.

You sighed, you didn't have any energy left. Steve had been non-stop ever since the day he took you, he didn't give you a single moment to rest. You were always filled with his cum. "You'll enjoy it, princess. You always do."

He started to thrust up into you, and you felt your orgasm building. "Oh, God, Steve!"

"That's it, baby, scream my name."

"Steve! Oh, God, Steve!"

You came, clenching around his cock. He groaned, and you felt him spill inside you, his hot cum filling you up. "Fuck, baby, you're so good."

He kissed you, and you could feel him getting hard inside of you again. "No, Steve, please. I can't..."

"Yes, you can, princess. I know you can."

He started to move again, and you knew you were in for a long night.

You couldn't help but moan, you could feel his thick length filling you up. His cum was still inside of you and it was a warm feeling. You were so tired and he could tell, "One more time, princess, and I'll let you sleep."

He was so big, and he hit all the right spots. You couldn't help but moan, it felt so good.

You had been his prisoner for weeks now and he had fucked you so many times, you lost count. You were covered in his cum, and he didn't let you leave the bed, he was obsessed with breeding you.

You moaned as he thrust deeper into you. He was so big and it felt so good. You were lost in the pleasure, forgetting about everything else. All that mattered was him and the way he made you feel.

"Say you want me to come inside of you."

"I want you to come inside of me, Steve."

“Beg me.”

“Please, Steve. I want your cum. Please fill me up.”

"Good girl." He kept his rhythm, the feeling of his cock inside of you was too much, but it was so good.

"Come for me, be a good girl and come for me."

Your body was shaking, you felt his cock throb and fill you up again, and then you were coming, your legs trembling, your moans loud.

"Fuck, yeah. You're such a good girl, so sweet, coming for me. So tight, fuck. Such a good girl."

His words sent you over the edge, your body convulsing as your orgasm washed over you. He held himself above you, watching your face, while he fucked you. His cock was still inside of you, twitching, the feeling so intense.

"And don't you forget it. You're mine, and no one else is gonna fuck you. Cause you're mine, and I'm gonna keep you pregnant, giving me all the babies I want."

You had been his prisoner for weeks now and he had fucked you so many times, you lost count. You were covered in his mark and seed, and he didn't let you leave the bed, he was obsessed with breeding you.

You didn't have a choice, he wouldn't let you go. He'd fuck you every day, until he had knocked you up. You didn't even want a baby, and he didn't care. He'd do whatever he wanted. You had no choice but to obey him. But he made you feel so good and gentle with you, you couldn't help but enjoy it.

You had given up, the police weren't going to find you. No one was. You were his prisoner, his plaything. And he was going to keep you forever.

But, in a twisted way, you didn't mind. Because he was always there for you, taking care of you, fucking you, loving you. You had never felt this way about anyone before. And deep down, you knew you were falling in love with him.

"I love you, Y/N. And I'm gonna take care of you, and our baby. Forever."

"I love you, too, Steve."

FIN

A/N : So what do you guys think? Let me know in the comments, I want to know about your thoughts! 

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #the winter soldier #captain america #steve rogers x y/n #dark!steve rogers #marvel x reader #steve rogers #dark fic #stockholm syndrome #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic

[star-xxx1]

Sticky situations 18+

Ex!Natasha Romanoff x Crazy!Fem!Reader

Warnings: G!p Natasha, Dub-con, guns, blow jobs, overstim, begging, love bites.

A/n: Not proofread, sorry, but enjoy <3.

Natasha groaned, slowly coming to and regaining her senses. Her body stung all over, especially her neck, arms, and ankles. The sensation of wetness covered her neck; a weight sat on her lap. Her mind struggled to make sense of it all, to recall the seconds before she awoke from what felt like a deep, deep sleep. Only moments ago, she was on a mission; now she was so confused. She opened her eyes and looked around, taking in her surroundings cautiously. She looked down and saw you. Her ex-girlfriend.

Straddled on her lap, passionately marking up her neck like a tally in game, each mark was a mark of possession. Seeing you, her brain finally made the connection of the strange feeling on her neck. She groaned. She didn't even have to look know that you've made her whole neck a mess. Trying to pull away, you looked up at the sudden moment. "Natty, baby, Hi," you said sweetly, wiping the slobber around your mouth. "Mh." She grunted, You moved to kiss her pretty lips, but she pulled away.

"Y/n what the fuck!?" She said, trying to pull her arms up but all she was met with is tightness and resistance. Her arms and legs were tied. She looked up at you. "What are you trying to do?" The redhead barked at you. "Natty, please, I really need you. I'm needy and horny and I miss you." You whine to her.

"Not my problem." Natasha hissed. "But it is, I'm your sweet girl, after all? Like you said, I am and always will be." Your hand coming up to hold her soft cheek.

Natasha spat on your gentle face, her saliva landing right on your cheek and sidling down. Natasha watched as you wipped it up and lick it straight off your fingers and giggled. "Mhhh, spitting? wanna spit in my mouth next?"

"Oh fuck off y/n, get off me!" She said squirming unneath you. "Natty, baby, why are you resisting your girlfriend?" You pouted at her getting upset. "You're not my girlfriend anymore! For fuck sakes Y/n how times do I have tell, stop calling me! Stop texting me! Stop showing up everywhere -"

You covered her precious mouth, the barrel of a gun pressing firmly stomach. "Natasha, we're together," You took a deep breath, eyes holding strong emotions staring deep into her eyes, your grip tightening on her beautiful mouth, "We didn't break up!" You shouted. "Yes, we did!" Her protest coming out muffled. "You crazy bitch!"

"I will fucking shoot you!" You screamed getting, upset. "Straight in the stomach and you can bleed out alone and fuck off into hell." You yelled, the sound of you stressed voice echoing through the empty warehouse. She didn't flinch, but it shut her up. Natasha knew there was no way out, no matter what she did. You would find her, how the fuck can such a small girl find a highly skilled spy so easily? She tried so hard, but you were just everywhere, even in her dreams, haunting her, begging her for her to come back, sobbing screaming. You were obsessed, digustingly, and deep-seatedly in love. She was bound to you.

"Natasha." You said, looking into her pricing eyes. "Look, I'm sorry, baby, you just know how i get when it comes to you." You kissed her forehead. She didn't look impressed at all. You removed your hand from her mouth. You waited for an answer, expecting her to forgive you immediately like she usually did. But nothing, just a cold stare. Your lips pressed together, waiting.

"I think you've forgot how much I need you, how much I love you." Your hands trail down her suit. "Mabye, I have to remind you." Natasha's body stiffened as you started touching her your hands trailing down, but she couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine. She gritted her teeth, trying to resist your advances. "Don't you dare touch me."

You grabbed Natashas dick squeezing it from outside the suit. "Baby, don't you like when I do this?" You squeezed and rubbed her clothed cock. Natashas jaw tightened as you touched her cock, little groans escape her mouth at the sensation of your manicured hands squeezing and adding pressure, it gree harder and harder. "Y/n." Natasha said.

"Yes natty?" You chimed.

"Get off." You ingored her, slipping out a pocket knife out her weapon belt. You cut and sliced through her suit and boxers. Her body shivered with arousal as her thick, long cock sprang free from its confines, pre cum splattering on her stomach. It was so hard, so needy it needed to be dealt with immediately. "Mhh, baby, I miss you." You whispered, kissing her cheek. "Y/n." She whimpered, your soft hand wrapped around her cock, it was hot, throbbing.

She will admit, she did miss everything about you, she regretted leaving. She missed her old amazing sex life, not her current one, which was filled with so many different sex toys. She refused to let other people touch her in a sexual manner. It felt wrong. It felt like she was betraying you.

You got off her lap, settling in between her strong legs. You kissed her cock, rubbing your face all over her veiny shaft. "See im still your good girl."

Her breathing becomes heavy as she watches you on your knees. She bites her lip and starts to respond to your teasing. "Fuck you. don't do that."

You kissed her senstive pink tip. Her body shudders as she feels your lips against her cock. She gasps loudly, her back arching off the chair slightly. Despite her resistance, her hips start to move involuntarily, grinding against your face. "Don't. don't."

"Baby, just admit you want a blow job." You teased her. "I don't. I can't." Her words are punctuated by moans as she tries to resist the pleasure but fails miserably. Her hips continue to grind against your face, her cock leaking pre-cum onto your lips. You stared up at her, kitten licking her tip. "Beg, baby."

"Please, don't..." She whimpers out the word, her body shaking with desire. Despite herself, she can't help but push her hips forward slightly, offering more of her cock to your mouth. "I- I want you to suck me off... please."

"That's it, baby." You took her throbbing cock into her mouth. Your voice comes out muffled. "Come on, move, you always told me to work for it." You smirked. Natasha's eyes close as she feels your mouth close around her cock. She tries to pull away, but the sensation is too much for her to resist. She moans loudly, her hips bucking against your face as you tease her by not moving. "Baby,please, please, suck it." She begged. You didn't bugged. "I'm begging you!" Natasha cries out, her voice strained with desire. Her hips buck wildly against your face, seeking the release she craves. "Please need you to suck my cock."

"Please, fuck" Natasha body trembles with need as she continues to beg, her voice filled with desperation. Her cock throbs against your lips, leaking pre-cum onto your tongue. "I'll do anything. Just suck me off."

You shook head no. "Please!" Her Protest turns into a moan of frustration as she feels herself on the edge of orgasm without release. Her hips jerk forward, pressing her cock against your mouth, pleading for you to take her. "Please." After awhile wildly thrusting her thick cock into your warm mouth, her moans fill the room as her body shudders with ecstasy, her hips bucking violently against your face. Cum pours into your mouth, sweet and salty on your tongue. She pants and groans as she does a few extra hard thrusts. You look at your girlfriend, eyes screwing shut in pleasure forehead dripping with sweat. You started sucking her off. "O-oh..." Her eyes flutter open, surprised by the sudden change in sensation. Despite her initial resistance, she can't help but whimper as you start sucking on her sensitive, still hard cock, your pretty lips wrapping around her dick. "Holy shit." She bites her lip to keep from screaming out as she feels your hot mouth engulfing her entire massive cock. Her fingers dig into the chaie holding tight as she loses control to the pleasure you've unleashed. "Fuck."

Your head bopped up and down fast, gagging noise echoing as you deepthroated so her into your tight throat. Tears ran down your precious face, making her down wild, your mascara running down you rosy cheeks. Gripped her thighs, letting her fuck you face, her hips wildly thrusting, stomach tightening.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck..." Natasha's words become incoherent, babbling about how good it was, as she approaches her second orgasm. Natasha looked like she was going insane, body lifting of the chair, only to be met with restraints her loud whinpers and moans of pleasure, toes curling in her heavy combat boots, eyes rolled back, head thrown back, she panted like a dog in heat. It was sloppy and wet, cum and slavia dripping down your chin and all down her thighs.

Natasha's orgasm crashes over her, her body trembling as she releases all of her pent-up tension into your mouth. Her cock twitches and spurts, filling your throat with warm cum. You swallowed it like a good girl, not wasting a drop.

"Fuck, y/n." She whimpered. You let go off her soaked cock with loud pop. You came up and sat on her lap, getting the knife, and and cutting her restraints. You hugged her tightly. "See, I said you needed reminding."

"Yes, baby." She kissed your cheek, hugging you back.

"Natty." Your voice broke. "Mh, baby?" She mutter. "Please don't go again," she pulled away to look into your eyes, filled with vulnerability and weakness. Without her, you were lost, nothing, you need to be guided by her, only her.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry, so so so sorry." She voiced love. "I won't ever again, promise." You kissed her deeply. She could tasted herself on your tongue.

"You are my good girl, forever." she smirked. You smiled down at her.

"I love you natty, so much," you said.

"Love you way more." She kissed you again, wrapping her arms tight around you.

She did, and she was sorry, so very sorry for hurting you, she promise to make it up to you. She would do anything for you, anything.

Comments would be appreciated <3333

#natasha romanoff #nat x reader #natalia romanova #natasha #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x you #nat x you #natasha marvel #dark natasha romanoff #natasha angst #natasha ramanoff #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff drabble #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader smut

[spider-stark]

INFINITELY YOU

part one // back at the beginning

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. all versions of peter are between the ages of 19-23 in this story. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 5.4k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // playlist // no way home fan fiction //

The world seemed to slip out from under you, fracturing beneath your feet and leaving you to sink into a deep, dark hole.  

It was quiet—so unbearably quiet—and the tension between you and your estranged friends had become so thick that you feared it would soon take form and seep into your lungs. Maybe that would be for the best, you thought, wondering if suffocating on your collective grief would somehow be easier than whatever came next.  

“Aunt May…” You sputtered, unable to force the words out. Shaking your head, you asked, “Are you sure?”  

God, what a stupid question. You almost wanted to slap yourself for asking something so mindless.

Ned’s lips pressed into a thin line, trying to swallow his own sorrow. “I wish we weren’t,” he said with a small, wistful chuckle, still too shocked to fully acknowledge the gravity of it all. “But… yeah, we’re sure. She’s… She’s gone.”  

Your heart sank, unable to think of the right string of words to form a reply.  

With your mind reeling, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking that this was some sort of cruel joke–the kind where the punchline would never quite hit. But all it took was one look at the red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks of Ned and Mj to know that they were telling the truth.  

She was dead—Aunt May was dead.  

And, somehow, it seemed as though that wasn’t even the worst part of the mess your friends had gotten themselves in.  

“I know that it’s a lot to take in all at once,” Ned started back up, perhaps noticing the way the color seemed to drain from your face. “If you need me to go back over it or explain anything then I can-”  

You stopped listening to him, staring blankly at the doormat beneath their feet. They hadn’t even bothered to come inside your apartment, too panicked to waste any time before delving into the details about Doctor Strange and the multiverse and other Spider-Man’s.  

But honestly, you didn’t care about any of that.  

You didn’t care about string theory or whatever multiversal villains had apparently slipped into your world—because you couldn’t stop thinking about what Ned had said about how May died. It hurt to think about it, the shrapnel and debris that had torn her flesh, the glider that had punctured her side and left her bleeding out in Peter’s arms…  

Aunt May had died a horrific and brutal death, and you weren’t sure that there would ever be any way for you to come to terms with that.  

“Peter,” you finally spoke, fire raging in your eyes as you looked at Ned. “Where is Peter?”  

He spared Mj a sidelong glance, as if silently asking for her permission to answer. Frustration began to prick your skin, crawling up your spine as your stare turned harsh, offended that he didn’t just tell you outright. You knew that things between the four of you hadn’t ended well, but this… 

Mj crossed her arms, looking almost as frustrated as you were with Ned’s choice to look to her for permission, and decided to answer in his place.  

“Downstairs,” she told you, her tone purposefully clipped as a way to show that the wounds sustained in the downfall of your friendship had not yet healed–and you didn’t care, because you knew that yours hadn’t either.  

“Is he…” you trailed off, not sure how to say it. If May’s death had been so brutal, then God knows what kind of injuries Peter might’ve sustained in the fight?  

But you didn’t have to speak, because whether the two of you liked it or not, you had been friends—and she always knew what you were thinking. “He’s safe,” she told you, quelling your nerves just a little. A reluctant sigh slipped her lips, shaking her head as she added, “But he’s not okay.”  

You knew what she meant—physically Peter had survived the fight with this Goblin man that they had told you about, but mentally…  

You understood why she was hesitant to tell you about it, too. Of the three of you, there was only one that had ever been able to delve down into the depths of Peter’s trauma and help him claw his way back out of the gnawing pit that threatened to consume him—and it wasn’t either of them.  

And, just as Mj knew you, you knew her. 

She didn’t want you around Peter, not anymore—and so if she was willingly telling you that he wasn’t okay, then it meant that she knew how much he truly needed you right now.  

“You guys should’ve told me sooner,” you grit your teeth, desperately trying to bite back against the resentment rising in your throat. “You should’ve told me as soon as all of this started, instead of waiting until everything went to shit.”  

It wasn’t your intention to sound bitter, but that didn’t stop you from coming across that way. Ned recoiled from your tone like a blow, but you didn’t have it in you to feel guilty right now.  

They had been dealing with all of this multiversal crisis bullshit for nearly a week now—and yet none of them had thought to say a single word to you until now. And while you knew that your presence likely wouldn’t have changed the course of events that had unfolded, it still hurt.  

And it still made you angry.  

“What do you need me to do?” You asked after realizing that neither of them intended to respond to your sharp statement.  

“Well,” Ned started, nervously rubbing his sweaty palms against his khakis, “it’s gonna take us some time to figure out where the villains are hiding, and even longer to work out what to do with them. And, since these other Peter’s have dealt with these guys before, we could really use their help…”  

He trailed off, once again looking to Mj, this time to silently urge her to finish his sentence.  

She rolled her eyes. “We need you to let them stay here.”  

Your brows furrowed, glancing between the two of them as if once again waiting for some sort of punchline to hit. It didn’t.  

“It might take us a bit–a few weeks, maybe—to find all of them and stop them. And now that Happy’s complex was literally blown to pieces, we don’t have anywhere for the two of them to stay while they help out.” Mj tried to explain. She looked defeated when she said, “We didn’t know who else we could go to that would actually understand.”  

Understand.  

If you weren’t still reeling from everything they had just told you, then you probably would have laughed at the word. You would hardly say that you understood what was going on—but you knew what she was getting.  

Mj’s dad would hardly allow two random men to stay in his house with them, and Ned’s Lola probably wasn’t too keen on the idea either. With Happy’s place destroyed, they had nowhere left to turn.  

You weren’t sure how to feel now that you knew they had only come to you because you were their last choice.  

At the risk of aggravating Mj, you said, “I wanna talk to Peter.”  

“I don’t know if now’s a good time,” Mj swiftly shot back. “I told you that’s he’s not okay—”  

“But he’s here,” you stated, nodding your head towards the stairs somewhere behind them that led back down to the lobby. “And you’re insane if you think I’m gonna agree to let two random ass men stay in my house without at least knowing what his plan is.”  

Mj bristled at the harshness of your tone; and so did you.  

You weren’t used to this.  

Mj had been your friend for far longer than she had been whatever she was to you now, and neither of you were used to this—to your once special connection being reduced to nothing more than strained conversations and fractured feelings towards one another.  

“Fine,” Mj surrendered, her hands lifting slightly. “Do whatever you want.”  

It wasn’t until then that you realized that you had been waiting for her permission, even though you didn’t believe you truly needed it. Peter was your friend—and he had been your friend long before he even knew Mj. If you wanted to talk to him, then you had every right to.  

Yet you still hadn’t been able to will yourself to push between the two of them until she had spoken, side-stepping to let you pass. When you started descending the stairs to the lobby, you were shocked that neither she nor Ned followed, offering you a sense of privacy with Peter that you hadn’t expected—as if she still held some shred of trust in you.  

You didn’t want to think about it though, unsure of how you felt about that, too.  

Halfway down the dank stairway of your complex, you felt a shiver dance along your spine. It prickled your skin and set your nerves on edge, but it didn’t catch you off guard. You always felt this way when Peter was around—as if your body could always sense when he was around, even when you hadn’t yet seen him.  

The last step creaked when you placed your weight onto it, and from across the poorly maintained lobby, Peter’s neck snapped in your direction at the sound.  

It felt like ice skittered across your bones at the sight of him, your heart lurching against your ribcage.  

You had gotten used to seeing Peter battered and bruised years ago. Even before he became Spider-Man, he often found himself the victim of bullies and assholes, rarely going more than a few weeks without a busted lip or a new bruise. But this…  

This was different, somehow.  

It wasn’t just the blood-stained suit that set your heart racing, nor was it the lacerated skin or his sweat-matted hair. No, those things were normal—in the same way that being bitten by a radioactive spider was normal.  

It was even normal to see him standing before you, his chin high and shoulders back, presenting a perfect image of strength even after experiencing something as traumatic as losing May.  

Peter’s relationship with trauma had been intimate enough these past few years that you weren’t shocked to see him like this, standing tall rather than balling up and crying on the floor. You figured that was what most others would do if they were in his situation.  

But Peter wasn’t like other people.  

Peter was a hero—and if you had learned anything about heroes in your lifetime, it was that they were incredible liars.  

His eyes couldn't lie, though.

Bloodshot and ringed with exhaustion, his eyes were what had made you feel so sick, your stomach twisting itself into knots.  

They lacked the life and hope of the boy you had loved so dearly, replaced with something like rage—a pure, unbridled and unrelenting type of rage. Looking at him now you couldn’t ignore the burning talon that seemed to rake against your mind, filling your brain with thoughts you didn’t want to think right now—telling you that looking at Peter now, with the light draining from his eyes, was the same as looking in a mirror.  

“Peter,” a metallic tang danced on your tongue as you dug your teeth into your cheek, biting back against the tears threatening to well-up in your eyes.  

Letting your instincts guide you, you rushed across the lobby to where he stood by the front door, reaching for his hand without a second thought.  

His suit had been torn along his palm, and as you felt the warmth radiating from his calloused skin, you tried to take some comfort in the fact that at least he had survived—even if you still weren’t ready to accept that May hadn’t.  

“Don’t,” He yanked his hand back from you, his voice hoarse. “Don’t say you’re sorry.”  

You froze for half a heartbeat, your hand hanging awkwardly in-between the two of you. “I wasn’t going to.”  

You weren’t sure if you were telling the truth, but it didn’t seem to matter either way.  

Either way, you tried to understand his reaction, even as you winced from the sting of rejection. What good would an apology really do for a boy who had already lost everything?  

It wouldn’t bring the light back to his eyes.  

It wouldn’t bring May back to life.  

“Ned told me everything,” you told him, unwilling or unable to say Mj’s name right now. You clenched and unclenched your fists, painfully aware of the absence of his warmth. “You know I’ll do anything I can to help, so just tell me what needs to be done and I’ll do it.”  

Peter scoffed, his jaw tensing. “We both know that what I want doesn’t matter,” he said bluntly. Motioning to your surroundings, he continued, “If what I wanted mattered, then we wouldn’t even be here. We wouldn’t be asking for your help—wouldn’t be dragging another person into this and asking them to risk their life!”  

You did your best not to react, knowing that he hadn’t meant it quite as bad as it sounded. It already hurt knowing that you had been Mj and Ned’s last choice for help, but knowing that Peter didn’t want you to be a choice at all hurt far worse—even if it was to keep you safe.  

“Well, you’re here now,” you told him, keeping your voice steady. “So you might as well tell me what your plan is—or at least tell me how long I’ll need to play bunkmates with strangers.”  

You were lying when you had told Mj and Ned that you needed to talk to Peter before agreeing to let the alternate Spider-Men stay in your apartment—you didn’t care about housing with strangers, aware that there was nothing they could do to you that you haven't endured before.  

Selfishly, you had just wanted a reason to come down and talk to him. To see him. To know that he was alive. You didn’t care about anything else.  

Sometimes you worried that you didn’t even care about your own life, only Peter’s.  

But Peter cared about your life—far more than you would ever want him to.  

“My plan doesn’t matter,” he said, his tone clipped, “cause I don’t want you getting involved. And I definitely don’t want you to let those guys stay here, alright? We don’t know them.”  

You steeled yourself, resisting the urge to argue with him and instead asking a simple question. “Do you have anywhere else for them to go?”  

He didn’t respond, huffing out a breath, already frustrated with the defiance he knew you were about to display.  

“You might not want my help, but if Ned’s right–” you told him, gesturing backwards towards the staircase, “–which he usually is—then you’re gonna need these guys.”  

“But that doesn’t mean we need you,” Peter protested gruffly.  

Your chest tightened, but you kept shoving back against the hurt. Later, you would deal with that later.  

“It doesn’t matter if you need me,” you retorted with a defiant tilt of your chin, unwavering as his rageful gaze seemed to pierce through your skull, “because you’re stuck with me either way.”  

You hadn’t expected the statement to affect him, but it did, his voice softening slightly. “I always have been.”  

“Exactly. So you might as well make this easy on the both of us and not fight me on it,” you declared, trying to conjure up the most convincing smile you could offer. “Let me help, Peter.”  

A sigh slipped his lips, heavy with reluctant resignation as he realized he wasn’t winning this battle. “We’ve already lost so many people… I’ve lost so many people. And there’s already enough blood on my hands,” he said, lifting his hands to display the torn, blood-stained fabric, driving his point home. “It doesn’t matter what I say—so let them stay here or don’t, I don’t care. But just know that whatever happens to you, it’s not on me. Because I told you to stay out of it, alright?”  

He took a step closer, and you didn’t dare move a single muscle as his lips hovered just inches from your own. “Do whatever you want,” his voice was barely a whisper, laced with a venomous edge that nearly made you tremble, “but don’t expect me to come running to save you when it all goes to shit.”  

His words hung in the air like a curse, lingering in the lobby for far longer than he did. As soon as the promise had left his lips, he was already turning on his heel and shoving the door open, abandoning you in the dim space.  

You knew better than to think he meant it.  

But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.  

You stuck your hands beneath the running faucet, scrubbing the blood from a jagged cut on your palm. It wasn’t all that deep, shallow enough that it probably wouldn't even leave a scar once healed. When you were done rinsing it, you cupped your hands and gathered the water in them, splashing your reddened cheeks.  

Crying would have been a normal part of grieving for May, and when you forced yourself to look back at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you couldn’t help but wish that you could’ve been a little more normal.  

But tears hadn’t been the cause of your flushed appearance—no, because you had never been very good at expressing the more delicate emotions, like sadness.  

You were good at expressing anger, though.  

You were very good at expressing anger.  

After Peter had stormed out of the lobby and abandoned you to choke on his cruel promise, it had taken you several minutes to work up the nerve to go back upstairs and face Mj and Ned. By some stroke of luck you had managed to keep a tight leash on your often volatile attitude, telling them your decision to let the other Peter’s stay with you.  

And then you lost control as soon as they left, loosening the reins on your anger and taking the uncomfortable feelings out on a nearby potted plant, shouting curses as you tossed it at the wall.  

By the time you thought to clean it up, after finishing another string of irate profanities, your hands had been shaking so bad that you cut yourself on one of the dirt-covered shards. And maybe, once you felt the jagged ceramic dig into your palm, you should’ve hissed or cursed more or stopped cleaning to patch yourself up.  

But you didn’t. You stayed quiet, continuing to pluck the shattered fragments off the floor until you had gotten them all, dumping them into the trash before grabbing the broom and dustpan and cleaning the dirt and scattered leaves, too.  

There were more important things to deal with than cleaning a dirty wound.  

Like making sure none of your friends could see that you weren’t nearly as composed as you tried to seem.  

The familiar rhythmic rapping of Mj’s knuckles against the front door made you forgo the bandage you were going to fix to your palm, tossing the rag you’d used to dry your face into the sink and heading straight to the living room.  

Carefully shoving your injured hand into your pocket, you opened the door and tried not to look surprised when Peter wasn’t standing in-between Mj and Ned. Of course he hadn’t come with them—why would he? He had already made it clear how he felt about all of this.  

It did become significantly harder to mask your shock however when a tall, messy haired boy stepped into view from behind them, clad in a crimson and cobalt webbed suit.  

“Get inside,” you hissed a bit harsher than intended, stepping aside and waving the three of them into your apartment.  

The last thing you needed was your neighbors seeing an unmasked, alternate version of Spider-Man standing in front of your door. It had already been risky enough that Peter had come here in his suit, standing in the lobby and sticking out like a sore thumb.  

Once they were inside, you shut the door and turned to Ned. “I thought you said there were two of them,” you noted, avoiding looking at the lanky Spider-Man who seemed just as desperate to avoid you, busying himself with walking around the room and studying the art on the walls.  

Ned shrugged. “He didn’t wanna come.”  

“Not that he didn’t want to come,” Mj pointedly corrected him, frowning at his bluntness. “He just wanted to keep patrolling. The Goblin, the one who…” she cut herself off, unable to force the words off her tongue. Scrapping the sentence altogether, she started again, “The Goblin’s from his world, so he seemed to think that he had the best chance of hunting him down. But we gave him the address.”  

You didn’t bother giving her an actual response, a subtle nod the only sign you had heard her at all. She didn’t seem to care much, just as unsure of what to say to you as you were to her.  

“So,” Ned clicked his tongue, trying to cut through the growing tension. “This is Peter 3!” He announced, gesturing to the other Peter, who was picking up a frame that had been face down on an end table. “That’s what we’re calling him, at least. Y’know, to tell them apart. The other one is Peter 2.”  

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Creative.”  

Done dawdling over Ned and Mj, you forced yourself to look at the un-masked hero from another world. He was placing the frame back onto the table—not face down, as he had found it, but up-right. You frowned at the photograph it displayed, a picture of you, Ned, Mj, and Peter from sometime last year.  

“You’re awfully nosy,” you told him, your voice like ice.  

His muscles tensed, hesitating as he faced your gaze. “Sorry,”  

His voice was slightly deeper than Peter’s, his hair a shade or two darker, his features a bit less soft, but still noticeably young, putting him in his early twenties at most. Truthfully, if it weren’t for the suit he was wearing, you would’ve never guessed that he was supposed to be the Peter Parker of another world.  

You had expected him to be more… Peter-like, in appearance, and yet as far as you could tell the resemblances were very slight, if they even existed at all.  

The mannerisms were there, though. The subtleties of Peter Parker, the things that most people never noticed and yet were ingrained in your mind. He licked his lips, a nervous tic that left you always carrying chapstick in your pocket. His hands hung at his sides and you saw the way his thumb tapped against each of his fingers, starting with his index and ending with his pinky, only to start over again.  

Watching him, taking note of every familiar twitch and tic and habit, made something in your chest tighten.  

And, when you told him your name, it was as if your icy tone had melted altogether. “It’s nice to meet you.”  

For a moment you thought he wouldn’t respond, his throat bobbing as he swallowed roughly, eyes darting around the room. But then, suddenly, he gave you a weak smile. “You too.” A trace of amusement laced his response, too subtle for you to detect.  

“We’ve gotta go,” Ned suddenly spoke, jutting a thumb towards the door. “Peter’s waiting outside so he can make sure we get home safe, but-” he stopped, brows furrowing as considered whether he should finish. “But text us later, okay? Just to let us know that you’re okay.”  

Your heart stuttered at the mention of Peter’s name, at knowing that he actually had come—even if it hadn’t been for you—but you didn’t mention it.  

Instead, you focused on Ned, giving your sweet friend the kindest smile you could muster—which, admittedly, didn’t feel like much. Despite everything that had happened with your friends in the past few months, your fight had never been with Ned. He was just caught in the middle, unfairly forced to pick sides.  

And you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him for picking Peter. Not when you knew that you would’ve done the same.  

“I will,” you promised.  

Ned gave you an equally somber smile before opening the door to leave. Even once Ned was in the hall, already descending the staircase, Mj lingered in the entryway—not for long, a heartbeat, maybe—turning back towards you just long enough to mutter, “Keep your guard up.”  

You didn’t have a chance to say anything back to her before she let the door slam shut, following quickly after Ned and leaving you alone with… this guy.  

The other Peter had abandoned his spot by the end table, seemingly done with investigating your apartment and left to do nothing but stand awkwardly a few feet away from you, clearly unsure of what to do or say now that it was just the two of you.  

“So,” you breathed out, popping your lips. “Peter 3, yeah? Good name. You go by that back home, too?”  

He laughed, a suit-clad hand nervously rising to the back of his neck. “Uh–yeah, no, definitely not. Just plain ole’ Peter Parker over there.”  

The nervous energy radiating from the boy almost seemed contagious as you started to pick at your nails. “Do you have a nickname?”  

He blinked, looking as if he hadn’t heard a word you said. “Sorry, what?”  

“A nickname,” you repeated, only for your brows to then furrow. “You have those where you’re from, don’t you? Nicknames? Like, you know, something you go by other than your actual name?”  

“Oh! Yes—sorry, yes we have nicknames in my world,” he exclaimed, his pale skin starting to flush.  

“I just thought that this whole numerical system thing that Ned’s going with to keep track of who’s who seems a little dehumanizing, yeah?”  

“For sure,” he agreed, sucking on his lip as he nodded along with you.  

You gave him a second, waiting and waiting for an answer to your apparently long-forgotten question, before asking, “So… Do you have one?”  

The slight blush that had tinged his skin instantly darkened, suddenly the same shade of crimson as his suit. His grip on the back of his neck tightened, too, his fingertips prodding into his own skin.  

“Sorry-” he apologized for the millionth time, more nervous laughter spilling out alongside it, “I do! I mean, sort of, I think. I don’t know if it’s really a nickname, but back in my world you really just called me by my last name most of the time anyway, so–I don’t know—maybe that would work?”  

The sheer quantity of word vomit spewing from his mouth was impressive and likely hard-to-follow for most, but you consider yourself a bit of an expert in the anxious ramblings of Peter Parker.  

“In your world?” You echoed, instantly catching the subtle mention. “We know each other?”  

Maybe it shouldn’t have been shocking to learn that there were other versions of you throughout the multiverse as well, and yet it was. You figured that it was plausible, of course, considering that two variations of Peter had just been thrown into your world, but for some reason it just didn’t feel right.  

You reasoned that anyone would feel that way, though.  

“Yeah,” the boy, Parker, answered, a bit clipped. “We do.”  

“Interesting.” Your brows lifted, “Are we friends?”  

Parker scrunched his nose, his head tilting slightly.  

“Yeah,” his voice was an octave higher than before, and if you knew him better, then you likely would’ve called him on the obvious tell. But you didn’t know him, and so you didn’t say anything when he decided to double-down on the lie, “Yeah, we’re friends.”  

“Well I guess that means that this is just as weird for you as it is for me, then.” You laughed, trying to add some humor to the situation.  

Parker gave a tightlipped smile. “Definitely weird.”  

The seconds felt like they stretched into minutes after that, silently racking your brain for something to say, hoping that he might say something—but, eventually, you settled on offering an escape from the situation instead.  

“You’re probably exhausted from the whole multiversal travel thing, so if you want, I can just show you the guest room and give you some privacy or something,” you told him, vaguely gesturing towards the hallway.  

Parker seemed to relax a bit at the prospect of being alone, loosing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Uhm–yeah, that’d be great, actually.”  

He followed you down the short hall, his hand finally falling from his neck and his skin returning to its normal complexion as his nerves began to wane.  

“This is it,” you told him, the hinges crying out as you shoved the door open. “It’s not much, but it’s somewhere to sleep, at least.”  

Wasn’t much felt like an understatement, though the room was typical for a New York apartment.  

A tad bigger than your average shoebox, there was just enough space to fit a full-sized bed, a small armoire, and a single nightstand adorned with an old desk lamp and a little pink teddy bear—a gift from Peter, years ago.  

Parker walked into the room, looking around and brushing his fingertips against the emerald quilt. It was a bit old and somewhat thin, but it was better than nothing you supposed, and Parker certainly didn’t seem like he was going to complain about it.  

“It’s great,” he assured you, and even though he did sound genuine, you couldn’t help but snort. He looked over at where you still stood in the doorway, giving you a timid smile as he said, “Way better than sleeping on the streets.”  

You returned the gesture, lazily lifting a shoulder. “We’ll see if you still feel that way in the morning. That mattress is about a hundred years old, so it’s probably the equivalent of sleeping on really lumpy cement.”  

Parker hummed his amusement, carefully perching on the edge of the bed, his smile seeming to deepen when he caught sight of the little bear on the nightstand.  

“I guess I’ll let you get some sleep,” you told him, reaching for the door handle, “if you need anything—extra blankets, or something—just let me know; my room’s right across the hall.”  

He muttered his thanks, but as you went to pull the door closed, you heard your name fall from his lips. It was strange sounding, strangled and foreign, like he didn’t quite know how to say it. When you turned back to face him, a subtle wince seemed to etch across his face.  

“Can I… Can I ask you something?” Parker stammered out the question, his voice faltering like a candle flame in the wind.  

You nodded once, fingers still wrapped around the knob, savoring the coolness of the brass against the now-clotted wound on your palm.

He took a breath, his gaze momentarily flickering back to the teddy bear on the nightstand. His thoughts felt heavy on his tongue as he tried to force them out of his mouth, “Are you happy?”  

You blinked at him, unsure of what to make of the hope that seemed to cling to each syllable and half-wondering if you’d heard him right.  

“I-” you tried to start, only to realize that you had no clue what to say.  

There was a fleeting moment where you realized that you could tell him the truth. You could tell him that happiness felt like a distant shore far from your reach, forever obscured by the fiery tempest of a brutal and ancient rage—a rage that, sometimes, didn’t even feel like your own.  

But then he looked at you with those big, expectant eyes; eyes that should have been foreign to you, and yet felt so familiar—and you realized that he wouldn’t like that answer.  

Sucking in a breath, you evaded his question as best you could. “Ask me again when all of this is over,” you told him, your lips curving into a soft, playful arc, “and maybe I’ll tell you the truth.”  

This time when you went to close the door, he didn’t stop you.  

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a/n - i wish that i could properly express just how amazing (and terrifying) it has been to rewrite this story. first created at quite possibly the lowest point of my life, infinitely you has provided me with a necessary escape at a time when i desperately needed it. now that i'm in a better position, i found it necessary to give it the plot, writing style, and dedication that it deserved. i'm aware some people might not be interested in a rewrite and that's ok, but for those that are i just wanna say: thank you, thank you, thank you for giving infinitely you (and me) another shot. you're incredible.

if anyone would like to be added to the tag list, just let me know! as of right now, chapters will be posted every other monday, though i may switch that to weekly soon!

part two, titled "crullers & constants", to be released april 1st

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[extraordinari1y-ordinary-writer]

Pic found on Reddit

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