#dark!peter x reader

[cherienymphe]

Basic Training VII (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON acts, DUB-CON acts, 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.

~

Keeping track of the days wasn’t hard. Night and day announced themselves with the setting of the sun and the rising of the moon. It was strange how it failed to feel monotonous, each day so different from the one before despite doing so many of the same tasks. You helped with breakfast in the morning, yes, and you ate dinner with the entire house every evening, but the activities in between weren’t always the same.

It was only just the other day that you’d been shown the nursery, a modest room that had been decorated by the wives and would serve as a classroom from what you’d been told.

Faced with another visualization of how permanent this all was made you lightheaded. You knew why you were being shown these things, why you were slowly being exposed to more and more of what your life here was expected to be. It felt depressing, but not as much as it should’ve been.

After all, at least you knew what the rest of your life would look like…even if it was some sick man’s fantasy.

You hadn’t had another incident with Steve since the vase debacle. You hadn’t been able to do your household tasks for a week, and even when you rejoined the other wives, you found yourself wincing here and there. You got the feeling that Steve had long wanted to punish you, ever since that incident in the kitchen, and while you still felt heavily watched, like you’d try to make a run for it any minute…

Peter was around more, now.

You didn’t like Peter. You were sure you never would, but you couldn’t deny the security you felt in his presence. You couldn’t ignore how much safer you felt all the while knowing that he was just a few rooms away. Sometimes when you were cooking or cleaning or even just attending to some vegetables in the greenhouse, you’d look over your shoulder and make eye contact with a familiar brown pair.

The relief you’d feel was something you didn’t want to focus on.

Sometimes he’d even take over for Jane or Margaret and would take it upon himself to show you how something was done instead. He was the one to show you the nursery/playroom, following close behind him as he prattled on about it. Maybe he’d seen the slight fear in your eyes, the combination of defeat and nervousness as you stared your future in the face.

…because Peter had reached out to take your hand, squeezing it.

Something about his presence had become like a shield. Like protection against Steve and anything else you feared in the house, so dependent upon it that when you woke up for the first time in a while, and Peter wasn’t there, you felt your heart drop. You were fully awake in seconds, sitting up in a slight panic and taking in his empty side of the bed. It wasn’t made, and it was still warm, telling you he wasn’t gone long.

The bathroom light was off, and you didn’t know where he could’ve gone, but when you looked outside the window, you were rewarded with the sight of him. You felt your shoulders relax, but your heart did pause at the sight of Steve and Bucky with him. All three were talking in the yard. About what, you didn’t know, but you didn’t think you were able to go back to sleep until it was time to get up again.

It was too early to get started on breakfast, so you weren’t surprised by the silence of the house when you left your room. You could even faintly hear the cry of an infant coming from somewhere on the other side of the household. It felt surreal to be up so early. With the sun just barely peeking over the horizon, the calm atmosphere, and the faint sound of a child, the place almost seemed like…a home.

You weren’t really thinking much when you approached the backdoor, not even questioning if it would even be unlocked. You guessed you just assumed it would be seeing as Peter and the other two were outside. When you opened the door, it was clear that the sound had caught their attention, all three halting in what they were saying.

You shuddered when your gaze briefly met Steve’s, quickly looking away when it fell on Bucky instead. You gave Peter your attention as you unsurely stood in the doorway, not quite certain on how to voice your need for Peter to come back. You didn’t want to be alone. You didn’t like being alone, and as Peter quickly made his way to you, as if afraid you’d take off at any moment, you felt your eyes water at how ridiculous you were being.

“You know you can’t be out here-.”

“I’m not,” you hurried to say, keen to point out that you hadn’t even stepped outside lest Steve try to use the technicality as a reason for punishment. “I woke up, and you were…”

You trailed off, taking a step back, eyes finding the floor. You felt Peter’s hands on your shoulders as he tried to look into your eyes, and you swallowed, shrugging.

“You weren’t there.”

Peter seemed to understand what you were saying, and you heard him softly exhale. He stepped inside with you, embarrassment filling you for so many reasons, quickly looking away when your gaze caught Bucky’s as Peter shut the door behind him.

“I’m sorry-.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he assured you, guiding you back upstairs. “You just scared me, is all. You’re not allowed outside yet, so you were the last person I was expecting to see.”

You hadn’t even been able to focus on the feel of air and sunlight on your skin for the first time in months. It was something you should’ve been soaking up, cherishing before you were forced inside again, but instead, you’d only been able to focus on how much you didn’t want to be alone.

“Is Steve…? Will he…punish me for that?” you quietly asked as Peter closed the bedroom door behind you both.

“No, no,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’ll talk to him.”

He rubbed your arms before leading you towards the bed, and you made yourself comfortable. You felt the need to apologize again, feeling like you’d still done something wrong by basically dragging Peter back to bed. You frowned at your word choice, something twisting uncomfortably in your gut.

“What were you talking about?”

The question came out before you could really think about it, and Peter paused at the sound of it, looking at you with a look you couldn’t name, and you swore you saw the hint of a smile on his lips before it disappeared.

“Just something Thor did the other day,” Peter eventually told you. “He’s a very unserious guy.”

Peter chuckled at a memory you weren’t privy to, and you nodded.

It wasn’t lost on you that everyone in the house seemed to have the kind of relationships with each other that you hadn’t quite mastered yet. Truthfully, you didn’t know how any of the men knew each other, but they all seemed as thick as thieves. Not even just that, but you noticed how at ease Laura seemed around Sam or Nat around Stephen or Sharon around Clint. They all seemed so familiar and comfortable with each other.

Like a family.

It was hard for you to view this place as anything close to that. After all, these women were here the same way you were, but Margaret had been here for years and seemed to find genuine enjoyment in her relationship with Steve despite how cruel he was. Peter wasn’t half as cruel as him, so that only made you wonder what would become of you in three years’ time. Sometimes you didn’t want to think about that too hard, afraid of what answer you’d come up with.

You knew that you were weak, and you were genuinely scared that you might not be able to even recognize yourself.

It was sometime after breakfast had been made, when you were hidden away in the greenhouse, when Peter called for you. Afraid that you’d gotten into trouble for something, you’d quickly risen to your feet. You could feel Nat’s eyes on you as you stumbled into the house, voice shaky.

“Yes?”

Despite your nervousness, your voice had carried, and it wasn’t long before Peter rounded the corner.

He wasn’t alone.

The man with him had dark hair, but it was greying ever so slightly, and simple glasses framed his face. He and Peter were about the same height, and you warily eyed the strange man as they both approached you. You brushed some dirt off of you, swallowing.

“Am I in trouble?”

Peter seemed slightly taken aback by your question before quickly shaking his head, gaze softening.

“No,” he told you, reaching for you. “Bruce is our call-in doctor. He helps with all the births and health visits. We just figured it was time for a physical. Make sure you’re healthy and all…”

You were looking between them as Peter relayed this all to you, and you found yourself wondering if the doctor…knew. You wanted to believe that he didn’t, but then again, you never thought so many horrible men could congregate in one place and cohabitate with one another and their sick ideals. What was one more horrible man?

“It’s okay,” Peter softly assured you with a hand on your back as he guided you upstairs. “He’s just going to take some urine and blood samples.”

“Blood?”

You had questioned that before Peter even finished, eyes wide as you remembered your last…run-in with blood. The mention of the red substance had you feeling spacey, and for the first time in what felt like too long, you had a brief recollection of your friends…and the sight of their bloody bodies.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Peter murmured as he grabbed hold of you, quick to do so when you started swaying. “It’s okay…”

He helped you sit on the bed, and you eyed the other man as he came into the room.

“Dr. Banner will be quick. He’s efficient like that. Isn’t that right, Bruce?”

His agreement didn’t make you feel better, and you frowned when Peter spoke about getting the blood out of the way first. You couldn’t take your eyes off of the other man as he approached, heart racing at the sight of the needle. Your lips trembled, but before you could see him do anything, Peter took it upon himself to cup your chin, turning you to face him instead.

“Don’t look at him,” he murmured, brown eyes studying yours. “Just keep your eyes on me.”

Peter’s fingers brushed along your skin when you felt the pinch, and you struggled to swallow.

“Did the others have to do this?”

Peter hummed an affirmative, softly smiling at you. His other hand came up to stroke your cheek, and when you felt relief in your arm, his smile grew.

“You did so good,” he praised before looking at Dr. Banner.

You felt Peter’s hand trailing to your neck, massaging the crook of it where it met your shoulder as the other man searched for the cup you were meant to pee into, murmuring about needing to check up on Jane too.

“Thor used to come into my job, sometimes…”

Jane’s voice was very low in the greenhouse, her careful eyes on the door as she recounted her history with the God-like blond. Talking about your previous lives or anything close to it wasn’t encouraged, but after Jane had told you her ‘good news’, a hand on her stomach with a smile, you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from asking.

“I always thought he was handsome…funny…a little too optimistic, at times, but very sweet…”

There was something in her eyes you couldn’t quite place, something in her memories that made her smile dim some. If you had to guess, you’d say it was the memories and feelings of a time before she knew what Thor was really like. A time where she was just an innocent woman with a crush on a seemingly innocent man, unable to imagine the hell he’d put her through.

“He finally asked me out, and of course, I said yes.”

Her face fell some, and she sighed.

“As he was driving me home…I got lightheaded…drowsy…and then I woke up downstairs.”

You frowned at that, somewhat horrified that Jane had known Thor prior to this. Peter was a complete stranger, someone you had never even seen before, and you couldn’t imagine being subjected to this by someone you knew. Someone you trusted, your eyes burned with tears as you looked at Jane, but either out of genuineness or a practiced way of coping, a smile was already on her face again.

“That was… Well, it feels like a lifetime ago,” she slowly said, shaking her head. “…but, now we’re married, and I’m pregnant.”

She rubbed her stomach again, and you felt your own turn.

“Don’t you ever think about leaving?”

Your question was barely audible, fearful of anyone overhearing, but Jane heard you all the same.

“Not anymore,” she honestly told you. “It seemed…pointless. Masochistic to torture myself like that.”

You took a deep breath, heavily exhaling.

“Did you ever…?”

“Try?” she finished with a smile. “Oh, yeah. Twice, I think. After Thor had to sink to Steve’s level of punishment for the whole house to see, I never tried again.”

Your eyes met hers at that, and something seemed to pass through you both at the reminder of how Steve punished Margaret, sometimes. You didn’t even know that any of the other wives knew, and you wondered if it was something like an open secret. Again, you found yourself hurting for the new mom, unable to fathom how your humiliation at the hands of your so-called husband was just a known fact amongst the household.

“You shouldn’t…you shouldn’t try,” she eventually told you, making you look up. “When I was finally able to go outside, it was the first thing I did…and you’ll get caught…and it’s just not worth it.”

She sounded sad for you, but you felt sadder for yourself. You didn’t know how to tell her that you hadn’t even considered the thought in what felt like ages. It was just the other morning that you’d opened the door, and the thought of taking off, the thought of dashing right by the three men in the hopes that you could make it, hadn’t even crossed your mind.

You just hadn’t wanted to be alone.

You looked down as her words marinated within you. Jane had tried to escape twice, and there was no telling how many times Natasha had tried. You’d tried once, and it was barely an attempt, caught by Peter before you could even get your room door open. You didn’t need anymore confirmation of how weak you were, and even at dinner, you found yourself entertaining Jane’s advice and how masochistic it was to entertain thoughts that would never come true.

You weren’t half as strong as she was, and if she’d eventually given in, then what were you holding out for?

Peter could tell that you seemed distracted, touching your hand here and there, grabbing your attention. You gave him small smiles, unable to do much else, until he took another bite of the casserole.

“Pepper said you made this…”

You glanced over at the strawberry blonde, watching as she was engaged in a conversation with Steve and Tony.

“I did,” you told Peter, your eyes meeting his again.

“Really?” he quietly wondered, smile widening as his brows rose. “You did a good job.”

His hand came up to touch your cheek, and something like relief filled you. It was your first time cooking it without having to dump it afterwards, and while Pepper had assured you it looked and smelled great, Pepper was also known for placating you.

“I did…?”

Peter chuckled at how unsure you seemed.

“It tastes great.”

When he turned back to his food, you didn’t mirror him, keeping your eyes on him instead. You thought about when he’d eventually go back to work regularly like he used to before…and you didn’t like how it made you feel. Your chest tightened, and you blinked, finally turning towards your plate.

Without Peter, you really didn’t know how you’d function. After your punishment, you were even more afraid of Steve than you had been before, and you knew how much your slow adjustment irritated him. You knew that if it were up to Steve, you’d be punished every time you ruined a dish or burned some bread or messed up a load of laundry.

You didn’t even want to think about how many talks Peter had with the blond on your behalf.

It was something that weighed on your mind deep in the night, tears in your eyes at having to tiptoe around everyone again. Sure, you were adjusting much better, now, but that was exactly why Peter would have to go back to work again. You were better, now…so, he no longer needed to be here so much and neglect his job.

The thought had you shaking, holding in tears, and Peter must’ve felt it.

“Hey,” he said, turning on the lamp. “What’s wrong? Was it another nightmare?”

You shook your head.

Even those had become less frequent as of late.

“What is it?” Peter worriedly wondered, reaching for you.

You sat up, moving out of reach and wrapping your arms around yourself.

“I don’t want you to go back to work,” you eventually admitted. “I don’t like it when you’re not here. Steve…”

“He’s a lot, I know,” Peter softly said, touching your back. “…but I’ll have to eventually. This was only temporary…to help you adjust without the threat of severe punishment hanging over your head.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, hating that, and Peter made soothing sounds as your head drooped.

“You’ve been doing so well…”

You didn’t say anything to that, unable to voice the mindfuck this entire ordeal was. Peter was the reason you were even here, and so he should be the last person you want around. On the other hand though, he felt like the only thing standing between you and Steve’s ire, the memory of how the blond almost seemed to spit the word ‘weak’ out that day in the basement. He thought you were pitiful.

Pathetic.

…and he was right…but Peter didn’t make you feel that way.

Peter didn’t make you feel dumb for messing things up. He didn’t look at you like a bug he scraped off the bottom of his shoe, like a nuisance. Peter never looked at you like he was just waiting for you to screw up, but instead like he believed it wasn’t possible for you to. You wiped your face, hating that some tears had escaped.

“Why me?” you murmured.

He didn’t hear you, at first, a soft hum escaping him as he moved closer, fingers brushing your neck.

“Why me…? You didn’t even know me…not like Thor knew Jane,” you forced out, voice shaky. “So, I don’t get it.”

You looked at Peter, gaze almost pleading.

“Why did you choose me?”

Why did he choose you and change your life forever? Why did he choose you and get your friends killed? Why did he choose you and force you to leave your mom all alone? Why did Peter choose you and ruin your life?

Peter reached up to wipe your face, moving closer and grabbing your arm. You couldn’t read the look on his face as he pulled you against him, his other hand coming up to rest on your head. You could hear his heartbeat beneath your ears, and your lashes fluttered at the sound.

“I just…knew. “

Your brows furrowed.

“I watched you smile and laugh, and get that little knit in your brow when you hear something that confuses you…”

Your frown deepened at Peter’s words.

“You do it all the time here, like you’re always confused…and you probably are, but I think it’s too cute.”

You could feel Peter’s lips against your hair.

“I just knew it had to be you.”

You didn’t know what you were expecting to be honest. It’s not like you and Peter had ever been anything more than stranger who almost ran into each other at the bathroom entrance once. What else could you have possibly expected him to say? Peter hadn’t known a thing about you then, and it could be argued that he still didn’t, and you suddenly found the bedding interesting.

“I knew I had to have you…and I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t take you.”

You pressed your lips together, sniffing.

“…that wasn’t your decision to make,” you tearfully mumbled.

Peter heard you though if the way his hold on you tightened was anything to go by. His fingers briefly pressed into your skin, hard enough to make you wince, before he eventually loosened his hold. He let out a sigh, chest dramatically rising and falling beneath your head.

“I disagree.”

He pulled away, forcing you to do the same, but his hands remained on you, pressing into your shoulders as his eyes met yours. You had never seen Peter look so serious, lips pressed together and face even as he looked at you. You didn’t think you liked it, and you got the feeling that you said something you shouldn’t have. He suddenly took your chin, his grip tight.

“I wanted you…and so I chose you,” he slowly began. “…and that’s never going to change.”

Your lips trembled.

“You’re mine, now, and you’re never getting away. Do you understand?”

You started to nod before his hand slid down your neck, thumb lightly pressing against the front of your throat. The corner of his lips curved upwards into a small smile.

“I need to hear you say it,” he softly encouraged, and you took a deep breath.

“I understand…”

Peter’s gaze was expectant.

“I’m yours, now,” you whispered.

Satisfied, Peter pulled you against him again, burying his face into your hair.

It was the first really bad nightmare that you’d had in a while. A whole month actually. You woke up out of your sleep gasping for breath, clawing at your throat like something was choking you. You barely registered Peter beside you, waking up with you and reaching for you. He was faintly calling your name, that you could make out, but once you could breathe again, you paid him no mind.

You were too preoccupied with screaming.

It hurt your throat, rubbing against it like sandpaper and making it raw. It came from deep within your chest, the faces of your friends staring at you in the darkness, and you flailed on the bed. Your face felt colder than usual, and you realized it was the cool air hitting your wet cheeks. Every time Peter tried to grab your arms, you pushed at him, sobs festering in your chest.

“Y/N, you have to be quiet,” you heard him tell you. “You’ll wake up the whole house…”

You couldn’t really find it in you to care all that much. Your chest was so tight that it hurt, agony paralyzing you at the memory MJ’s final bloody act to push you away. You sobbed as you remembered Wanda’s heartbroken scream at the sight of her dead brother before she too was treated like nothing more than a wild animal. The disbelief you’d felt at Pietro’s murder was so vivid despite the fact that it had long happened, and you’d had months to accept it.

Peter finally wrapped his arms around you as you cried into his chest, the dark-haired man shushing you. Something about waking the whole house again. Something about Steve, and the mention of the blond had you crying harder. You pushed against Peter, nails digging into his skin as you tried to get away, but he only pushed back.

“Y/N…Y/N, stop,” he softly hissed. “Stop it.”

You’d never heard him sound so stern, and that too made you cry.

A choked wail escaped your lips…and then it wasn’t.

…because it was swallowed by Peter.

His lips on yours had you gasping, heart skipping a beat and chest clenching. His hands were still on your arms, trying to settle them as he moved his mouth over yours. When he let one of them go to rest his hand on the back of your neck, you used your free hand to push against his chest, but it was futile. You only realized it was so dark because your eyes were closed, but when you opened them, Peter was so close that you really couldn’t make him out.

Moonlight cast a pale glow in the room, shining light onto Peter holding you against him, tasting the inside of your mouth as he laid you down. His other hand was on your face, now, holding it in place as he kissed you. You could feel his heart beating against yours, his body completely pinning you down.

“You’re okay,” he murmured against your lips. “You’re okay…”

That’s what he always said, but it never felt true.

When you tried to push him away again, he took your wrists, pinning them on either side of your head. Peter was still kissing you, mouth molding almost perfectly against yours, a hum escaping him when your lips parted. He kissed your bottom lip and then your top one, his own finally trailing to the corner of your mouth as he kissed that too.

When he lifted his head, his nose brushed against yours, and under the glow of the moon, you could see his eyes boring into your own.

“There’s my pretty girl,” he softly said when you blinked at him, sniffling. “You’re okay.”

He let one of your hands go to run a finger down your lips, brushing it along your chin as he briefly pressed his lips to yours again.

“You’re safe, alright…?”

Your heart was still beating wildly in your chest, but remnants of your nightmare were slowly fading away, and you gave him a shaky nod. Peter kissed your cheek a few times before sitting up and pulling you with him. When he had you fully leaning on him as he laid back down, his arm curled around your waist, keeping you against him. You were still shaking, breathing still uneven and tears still in your eyes. Your lashes fluttered as you could feel Peter wiping them away, and you closed them completely when you felt his lips brush over yours one more time.

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #dark!peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader #Peter Parker #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction

[princessbellecerise]

Home Alone

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | The Avengers go on a mission leaving you all alone, which gives Peter the perfect opportunity to finally claim you as his

warnings | softdark!peter, stalking, drugging, delusional!peter, noncon, sex toys, squirting, loss of virginity (f.), pet names, 18+

this is an eighteen plus fic. minors please do not enter

dividers by @firefly-graphics

It was quiet in the compound. That was the first thing you noticed when you walked in after class, exhausted from all the talk about your senior project and the theme of prom.

You had been tired, and slightly agitated knowing that even though you were going home early due to being a senior, you still wouldn’t get any peace and quiet, seeing as you did live with the Avengers.

You had braced yourself for the upcoming ruckus, perhaps Sam and Bucky arguing again or maybe even your dad and Steve getting into it. You were prepared to dash straight to your room and not even acknowledge anybody, but alas, you didn’t have to.

It was quiet.

The second thing you noticed was the note taped to the fridge, written in your father’s handwriting. You curiously snatched it off and then drunk in the words, getting more and more excited by the second as you read it.

Hey there Rockstar,

Fury called us all away on a last minute mission and Pep is away on a business meeting so you have the whole house to yourself. Don’t do anything I would do, and definitely don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.

Love, Dad

PS, NO BOYS!!!!!!

You laughed to yourself, noticing that boys was highlighted, underlined, and accompanied by several exclamation marks. Shaking your head at your dad, you smiled before discarding the note.

Inside, you couldn’t deny the excitement that bubbled up at the thought of finally having the whole tower to yourself. Peace and quiet, which was so rare you really and truly didn’t even know what to do with yourself.

You looked around, half expecting it to be a prank and for your chaotic family to walk through the doors at any minute. You stared at the elevator, but as the seconds ticked by your smile only grew, realizing that they were really and truly gone.

“Whoohoo!”

You didn’t care if it was cringey, or even if your dad had cameras recording you at that very moment. You were just so excited that you ran laps around the compound, laughing and hollering until finally you got tired, collapsing on the couch with heavy breaths.

You grinned as you noticed that you didn’t have to fight anybody for a spot, picking up the remote and putting on a show that you wanted to watch for once.

Gossip Girl started to play and you realized that it had been a while since you’d watched it and you needed to catch up. That would be easy now since you had nobody bugging you to do your homework or to change the channel to something they wanted to watch instead.

So, you made yourself comfortable on the couch and even brought over a few snacks, eventually settling down and preparing to enjoy your peaceful night alone.

You weren’t sure when it was that you fell asleep, but you knew the minute that you woke up it had already been a few hours. The moment your eyes peeled open, the bright lights of New York City greeted you through the glass panel windows. It was nighttime, and after checking your phone, you were informed that it was 11 o’clock actually. Not too late, but you had already gotten some well-needed sleep so you knew that you weren’t going back to sleep anytime soon.

Since it was a Friday, you excitedly realized that you could pull an all-nighter and enjoy your time before the Avengers got back. Tony didn’t say when, but if it was all of them, you knew they’d get things done quickly. You probably only had a day to enjoy your freedom and good god, what where you going to do?

You didn’t know when another opportunity like this would arise, so you knew you had to pull out the full works.

Binge watching your favorite show? Check.

Eating your favorite snacks without someone else reaching their grubby little hands over (mainly Tony) and forcing you to share? Check.

Bubble bath? Not yet, but you figured you’d get started on that so you could wash away all the crumbs you had accidentally spilled on yourself while you were asleep.

Standing up, you yawned and slightly stretched before grabbing your dishes and lazily throwing them in the sink. You’d worry about them later or hell, you’d even ask Friday to clean them. They were the least of your concern, so you trudged your way to your bedroom, tired but excited for your bath.

You went to the bathroom and drew your water, throwing in a few fancy bath bombs and soaps Tony had gotten you from Italy. The sweet aroma filled the luxurious bathroom, and you sighed, sitting on the edge of the tub as you watched the water fill up.

Somewhere along the lines, you had changed into nothing but a robe and you were all too eager to strip the minute the water got to your liking. You had also grabbed your phone and your speaker for music and a few candles to really set the relaxing vibe.

After setting everything up, you eagerly tied your hair up so that it wouldn’t get wet, ripped open a facemask, and then it was time to finally sink into the water.

You let out a sigh of content the moment your body settled into the warm bath, the water seemingly sinking into your bones and erasing every trace of anxiety that you had.

It was so soothing that you sunk down until the only thing that wasn’t covered by water was your hair, mouth and nose. You breathed in the sweet scents and allowed yourself to relax, closing your eyes and letting everything go as the light from the candles flickered all around you.

You figured the only thing that could make the experience better was possibly sneaking some of Tony’s gourmet wine, but you were already in the tub and didn’t feel like moving. Plus, you knew your dad would kill you and probably take away your suit as punishment.

You didn’t want to take that risk so you decided that you were fine on the alcoholic beverages — at least until you were sure he wouldn’t know about it.

You decided to just enjoy yourself in other ways, like splashing at the bubbles and popping them with your fingernails.

You giggled as some of the soap got on your face, playing in the bubbles like a child. You scooped them up, waved them around, and even gave yourself a makeshift Gotye like your dad, making sure to take a picture before finally washing it all off.

You laughed again, shaking your head at your childish antics before going back to relaxing. You closed your eyes, and you rested for at least thirty minutes before you finally decided to get out.

Your makeshift spa had come to an end, so you drained the water, threw away the face mask, and put your robe back on along with your house slippers.

You made your way into your bedroom and blew out all the candles, leaving your room to be lit up by the ever glowing city lights below.

It was one of the things you loved most about New York, and despite it being the city that got destroyed the most (mainly because of the Avengers), it was home, and you knew you didn’t want to live anyplace else.

The city lights always made you feel comfortable, almost like wrapping you in a blanket and reassuring you that you were almost never alone.

Sure, in the tower you were, but there were plenty of people still around you, walking below you, across the street from you, two buildings over…

In New York, there were always people out, night or day, and often times like now you loved to just sit on the balcony and watch them.

You watched as a woman walked her dog, as a couple argued over which restaurant to eat at. You watch the musicians on the street, wishing that you were down there to maybe put some money in their guitar cases. You watched the crackheads run around, and everybody else pretend that they didn’t see them, and you even watched all of the stray animals that scurried about the big city, always running as if they had places to be too.

You watched it all, and you don’t know when, but somewhere along the lines you started to get the feeling that maybe you were being watched, too.

You knew it was ridiculous seeing as you were alone in the tower, but the more you stayed on that balcony, the more that you were convinced that somebody had eyes on you as well. Which was plausible, but also nearly impossible.

You were fifty stories above the ground and no building even came close to the height of Stark Tower, so it would be almost impossible to see you unless someone had a telescope. But you didn’t see any anybody on the street with one, and even binoculars wouldn’t be enough to see that far up. You were a mere spec in the night, dust that could’ve easily been mistaken as a stars. There was no way that anybody could see you. They’d have to be super human or something; and all of the super humans you knew were currently out on a mission.

You shook your head.

It was impossible; or at least that’s what you told yourself until the feeling grew to be so uncomfortable that you decided to just go back inside.

You quickly gathered your things from the balcony and when you did step back in your room, you made sure to lock the door, letting out a little breath and shaking your head.

You knew it was ridiculous, but living with super soldiers and spies made you paranoid. So yeah, if your gut was telling you that someone was watching you, or at least that something was making you uncomfortable, you were going to listen.

It might just be nothing, but then again, in the city that never sleeps, almost everything was possible.

You weren’t sure what time it was when you heard it.

After all, you had been fast asleep, knocking out quick after a relaxing night and abandoning your all-nighter. You had called it a night after the incident on the balcony, and you had planned to wake up early, but not quite this early.

When you opened your eyes, it was still dark outside, but you could tell that in a few hours the sun was going to peek out. That meant it was probably around 4 a.m but you frowned, because why in the world would you be hearing things at 4 in the morning?

Things like the sliding door of your balcony opening, things like the wind as it gently blew in your room. Things like footsteps which unfortunately, you didn’t hear until it was too late.

You didn’t hear or see him until it was entirely too late. You couldn’t even process the situation, or fight him off because by the time your foggy brain woke up, he had already crossed the room; a dark shadow that jumped at you the minute you laid your eyes on him.

Then, when you felt the pinch in your neck, it was really too late.

“Ouch!” You exclaimed loudly, shock beginning to fester through your veins which quickly turned to fear as a glove hand smacked over your lips, stopping you from yelling anymore. “Ow, wha…”

“Shh,” His voice terrified you as he leaned in close to your shaking body, the silhouette of his head shaking in the city lights. “You have to be quiet, baby. Friday might hear us.”

Friday. Friday. How the hell did this person know about your AI, and most importantly, how the hell did he manage to sneak past something designed by Tony Stark himself?

How the hell did he get in your room, and what did he want?

You screamed again as the pressure from your lips was released, but you found that it was futile because for some reason, it didn’t come out quite as loud as you wanted.

Your screams were muted; low. Sluggish and sloppy, as if you were drunk. Which was ridiculous because you had refrained from raiding Tony’s stash.

There was no way that you were drunk, but as the man got up from your bed, and as you tried to make a run for it, you found that it quite literally felt like it. Your body stumbled, and a low grown escaped your lips as your knees automatically hit the floor the minute you tried to get up.

Everything was blurry and wobbly, even your screams sounding muted as you dug your fingernails into the marble floors and tried to crawl away from whoever was trying to attack you.

You were trying to do something, but it felt like the more you moved your body, the more tired you began to get.

You tried, but the man quickly rushed over and grabbed you up before you could make your escape.

“Please…please help…”

“Shh,” He cut you off again as you whimpered, him hauling you to your feet and lightly dragging you back to your bed with little resistance from you. Your body felt like literal lead, tied down and helpless.

You tried to cry out, you tried to protest as he laid you on your bed, the little nightgown that you had on riding up slowly, but you found that the sounds only came out slow, gargled. At most, all you could do was stare at the strange man as he finally decided to reveal himself.

“Shh Y/N, you don’t want to do anything that’ll alert Mr. Stark,” He said, and as he set his mask down on the edge of your bed, and as familiarity of his voice floated through your ears, your mouth dropped when you realized exactly who had snuck in your room.

“Peter?”

The realization hit you like a train, a strangle noise leaving your throat as you recognized your father’s latest protégé. He sat on your bed, fluffy brown hair and gentle eyes just as you remembered, a soft smile on his face as he looked at you.

Of course, you’d recognize him anywhere, seeing as you often interacted with him around the tower or at school.

You’d seen him in the hallways, in some of your classes, and you’d even hang out with him and his friends sometimes.

He was a senior like you, destined for MIT and an eventual spot on the Avengers, if your father had anything to say about it.

It was…it was Peter.

That awkward boy that you had mostly only seen in passing. It was Peter, the nerdy yet gold-hearted superhero that wouldn’t hurt a fly.

Peter. It had been Peter that snuck into your room.

“Hey, hey,” He reached out to touch your cheek as you slowly began to cry, the drugs taking its affects as you slump down helplessly on your mattress. You wanted to scream, you wanted to run, you wanted to slap his hand away from your cheeks as he stroked them like he was comforting you. As if he wasn’t the reason you were crying. “Don’t cry princess. Please don’t cry. I’ve been thinking about this for months and I want this to be as enjoyable as possible, so save your tears, okay?”

“Months?!” You wanted to yell out, but instead the words were trapped in your brain, ricocheting around your mind as your thoughts raced at a record pace. What did he mean by…months? Had he been planning this all along?

Oh God, he actually…

It was with another sob that you realized just how truly in danger you were, because somewhere along the lines you had missed this side of Peter and you realized that he had deliberately done this. He waited until you were alone to do this. He had waited, and he had watched you for who knows how long, and you had been oblivious to it all until this very night.

You had underestimated him, and he used it against you in the worst possible way. He had used your father and the other Avengers in the worst way, betraying their trust by stalking the person they all considered a daughter.

Peter had planned this for months. And it was with wide eyes that you saw just how prepared he was when suddenly, he pulled something out of a bag that made you cry even harder.

“I can’t wait to use this on you princess.” He held the sex toy tightly in his right hand while you attempted to kick him, but your legs wouldn’t move. “I’m gonna make you feel so good. You know I’ve thought about this for a while now, right? I’ve thought about what it would be like to pleasure you. To hold you, to taste you. I thought about your body so fucking much and honestly, I’m surprised I even waited this long.”

He chuckled, like what he said was actually funny and you let out another noise as he began to come towards you with the toy.

Suddenly, you regretted wearing a nightgown with no panties because it made it all the more easier for him to just slip it up, revealing your very naked cunt that Peter grinned at.

“It’s like you were expecting me baby,” He teased, and you cried out as he removed his gloves, allowing you to feel his touch in it’s entirety as his hands slipped over your body.

You started to struggle, but then you remembered it was only your mind in turmoil because your body didn’t seem to be moving. Whatever he had injected you with made you feel like cement, so you were helpless as his hands roamed all over your body.

You were forced to stay still as they first landed on your stomach, before daring to go up and eventually caressing your boob.

You cried out, but Peter didn’t stop due to the tears leaking down your face. In fact, you only saw him hesitate for a moment before he finally slipped his hand underneath your nightgown.

He was touching your nipple.

You wanted nothing more than to stop him, but it just wasn’t possible. You were forced to let him roll the bud between his fingers, forced to feel him touch your body. And it wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair that his hands were the first to ever roam your body, and you didn’t even get a say in it. You didn’t have a say in anything he planned to do to you, but you naively prayed that this was it.

You didn’t want to think about him going even further than he already had, but then he dipped his head down to your chest, and you knew that this was only the beginning.

Peter’s mouth came into contact with your nipple before you could even process it, his soft lips wrapping around the bud and his tongue darting out to lick at it as you cried.

His brown curls invaded your face as his lips remained on your breast; licking, sucking, and nagging your body into feeling pleasure that you didn’t want to feel.

He used his tongue to send sparks through your core, heat rushing through you, which you tried to stop. You tried to stop the way your lips parted, the way your legs seemed to open involuntarily. You tried to stop your brain from registering the fact that Peter’s mouth was causing you immense pleasure, because you hated yourself for even thinking that.

You were ashamed.

At your thoughts, at your weak body as Peter’s mouth finally left your breast, a small trail of saliva retreating with him. He looked up at you with a sparkle in his eyes that made your stomach lurch before he finally decided to move elsewhere. You whimpered as his hand gently opened your legs, his fingers finding the one spot you never wanted him to.

“Please…Peter don’t—”

His fingers brushed over your sensitive bud and you gasped, quiet sobs begging him not to touch you there. Unfortunately though, Peter mistook your sounds of protest as sounds of pleasure and eagerly looked up at you again.

“Yeah, you like that don’t you?” Peter chuckled, then he pressed a little harder which caused you to quiver and flutter your eyes shut in shame and pleasure. “You like me playing with your pussy, don’t you pretty baby. It’s okay…you can let me know how good it feels.”

“Please,” You opened your mouth to beg him to stop but somehow only that word came out. Peter smiled.

“It’s okay, it’s okay baby. I’m gonna take care of you, all right?” He promised, and you were fearful when his hand left your clit. After a few seconds, cold metal suddenly replaced his skin, which only meant one thing.

“No—!”

Your protest was too late and even if he had heard you, he hadn’t listen to any of the other ones, so you knew he would’ve just kept going. He would’ve turned on the vibrator anyways and took pleasure in the way your body suddenly jerked — the only movement you were capable of so far as you cried out, blubbering as the vibrations travelled through your body.

Peter watched your face as your body shook, taking in the way the tears soaked your cheeks and how pretty you looked in the city lights. He took in the way your mouth was slightly open, but you hadn’t been able to form any words because you were experiencing far too much pleasure.

So much sinful pleasure, that it only made you cry and whimper. Ashamed that you were actually getting off on what Peter was doing to you and you couldn’t stop it. You couldn’t stop the involuntary movements of your body anymore than you could move it, and you certainly couldn’t stop the rolls of pleasure that gathered in your core as every vibration seemed to sink into you.

You couldn’t stop the cries from your lips, the way you held eye contact with Peter as he held your hand and gently coaxed you through your orgasm.

Suddenly, your shame and humiliation was set to the side and long forgotten about when you finally did let go, letting out a strangled cry and sobbing as your first orgasm racked your body.

Your were shaking, pleasure nearly blinding you as your cum leaked out. Your brain felt like it was clouded, your vision replaced with stars but still you could see the sick smile of satisfaction on Peter’s face as he squeezed your hand gently.

“That’s it…that’s it pretty girl. Cum for me.”

“P-Peter…”

Your voice was broken, your face covered in sweat and tears to the point where you were sure you were unrecognizable. Not only that, but it seemed like every part of your body was either soaked in tears or cum now. The covers beneath you felt soaked as well, and it wasn’t until Peter stood up that you realized why.

You eyed the huge wet spot on the front of his suit and it only took you few seconds to realize what had happened.

With quivering lips, you tried to shake your head with denial but the evidence was indisputable.

It was obvious to you, to Peter, that you hadn’t just came.

You had squirted.

A strangled sob left your lips and — god, if Peter wasn’t smug before, he sure had reason to be now.

“Look at you…such a good girl. I can’t believe you actually squirted for me sweetheart. You’re gonna be nice and wet for me, I can’t wait.”

You just kept crying as everything hit you at once, your ears still ringing and your cunt still sore from your orgasm. Your first orgasm, and if that weren’t bad enough, you had also squirted all over Peter which made him think you liked it.

He thought you liked the way that he made you cum; he thought you liked being a helpless puppet, having no choice but to submit to his mercy.

He thought you wanted him inside of you, which was the worst possible scenario that you could think of.

But it was happening.

You knew it was happening because immediately after you squirted, he laid the vibrator down and in what seemed like a flash, began to strip out the suit that covered the rest of his body.

As best as you could, you tried not to look as his underwear came off as well, but you found it fruitless because Peter grabbed your chin anyway.

He grabbed your chin, and he made you look at him so that you could see his eyes. While yours were glistening with tears that he had caused, his were glistening with the admiration he held for you.

The sick obsession that made him have to have you.

He made you take a glance at what was to come, and before you could even start crying again, he let go of your chin and kissed you so passionately that had it not been for your common sense, your brain would’ve mistaken it as a kiss from a lover.

It was so soft, so passionate, that even though you knew what he was capable of, it was still hard to believe it because well…he was gentle. Gentle, like he was trying not to break you.

Even though he already had.

It seemed like he truly cared about you, and that was the worst part because you knew he wouldn’t stop. And he didn’t.

He kept kissing you and moaning in your mouth, making sure to explore every inch with his tongue and savoring your taste. You tasted sweet, but also bitter like a cherry.

Peter appreciated the irony of this as he deepened the kiss, finally maneuvering himself on top of you. You felt the weight of his body and it felt like it was gonna crush you as he spread your legs. He then settled himself between them, causing the tip of his cock to accidentally brush over your clit. You cried out, but Peter quickly swallowed your cries and there was nothing else that you could do.

This is truly what Peter believed to be right, and in that moment, you accepted defeat, numb as he pulled away from the kiss.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay princess? I’ll try to go as slow as I can,” He reassured you, pressing his forehead to yours. Your hiccups were only thing he got in response, teary eyes peeking up at him.

Through the tears, you could see him smile at you before grabbing your hands and holding them tenderly at your sides. Not that you could move anyways, but you suspect he just did it so that he could lace his fingers through yours.

Then, he spread your legs some more to line himself up with your entrance. He kissed your cheeks, your neck, and even placed tiny kisses on your nipples before he bought himself back up and looked into your eyes.

“I love you,” He said, and then he pushed into you.

“Pe—”

You gasped, as pain traveled through every part of your body, mainly concentrating in your lower regions as Peter pushed himself in and ignored the way you sobbed for him to stop.

It was like he couldn’t even hear you as his eyes fluttered shut, focusing on sinking into your cunt and pushing past every plane of resistance until he was finally where he needed to be.

Buried inside of you to the hilt, his balls against your ass as the squelch of your cum mixed in with your blood reached his ears.

He moved, and you wished you had regained enough feeling to fight him off. But you didn’t, so you were forced to lay there as Peter rocked his hips into yours, moaning like he had just bit into something sweet.

“Fuck.”

He swore as he abused your cunt, his pace fast but gentle. Peter wanted you to enjoy this, he told you, so he tried not to pound into you no matter how much he wanted to. No matter how much he wanted to be rough, he knew that this was your first time, and he wanted it to be memorable.

He wanted it to be special, so he held himself back and instead decided to focus on you as he continued to thrust into your heat.

He kissed you again, and then his hands left yours so that he could wrap them around your body. Pulling you close so that there truly was no space between the two of you. His chest was touching yours, his cock as deep as it could go. In that moment, you and Peter were truly combined as one, and there was nothing you could do to escape that.

There was nothing you could anymore; not even cry because he had taken your mouth from you as well.

There was nothing you could do as he moaned and fucked you and whispered sweet promises in your ear about how much he loved you, how special you were to him, and how much he couldn’t wait to fill you up.

You dreaded every word, tried to block out every whisper but it was like he was there, invading your every sense and there was nothing you could do to escape from him.

“I’m close,” Peter panted in your ear, clenching his face and slightly speeding up.

You gazed up at him, but you weren’t really looking at him, instead focusing on the ceiling as Peter used your body for his own source of pleasure. You didn’t say anything as he continued to rock his hips into yours, his trusts almost painfully passionate. Each drag of his cock against your walls felt like it had a purpose, and Peter made sure you felt every single inch of him.

There wasn’t any part of him that you didn’t feel. There was no emotion, no feeling spared.

Peter poured everything he had into you until finally, his own thread began to unwind and you winced when he suddenly stilled, cock shuttering inside of you.

You continued to look at the ceiling, but your vision became blurred as you felt his cum paint your walls, flooding directly into your womb.

Peter had gone as deep as he could to release himself inside of you, and when he was done, he collapsed and didn’t bother getting up so that you could get every last drop.

He was still inside of you to the hilt as he lay his head on your chest, squeezing you with his arms still wrapped around you.

He made no move to get up, no move to clean you or himself. He only laid there, basking in the pleasure that just happened to him.

The nightmare that just happened to you.

Peter didn’t move, only shifted as he finally looked up, resting his forehead on yours and smiling.

“I love you, princess,” He said, and suddenly, all of the lights in New York couldn’t brighten the darkness that you felt.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #dark!peter parker x reader #dark!peter x reader #spider man x reader #spiderman x reader #spider man smut #spiderman smut #dark!peter parker

[deftmeat]

‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ 彡 ‎ ‎ ‎‎ stepbrother!peter parker obsessed with you

NSFW ( mostly just a self-indulgent au )

• reposted since tumblr hid it •

w a r n i n g : contains non con and perv!peter

before tony stark had settled down with pepper potts, he had been with another woman. but after a messy divorce and an unwanted child, he decided to cut off all contact with her.

that woman was your mother. you had never met your father until she handed you off to him one day in the chilly autumn of new york.

after turning 18, she had decided to kick you out and dump you at the very front doors of stark tower.

with loose, messily packed luggage and fat tears staining your face, a man with short curly hair opened the door to you.

of course, later you learned his name was happy and tony trusted him greatly. happy also seemed to willfully obey his every order so you assumed there was a lot of trust and history between them. but you also wondered if tony ever told anyone about you.

it didn’t surprise you though, when you were brought up to tony, escorted by happy, that your father had no idea who you are. and when you explained yourself, he acted shocked you existed.

that’s how you ended up being employed by tony himself, starting out more as an errand runner or assistant to his incessant requests.

you couldn’t lie and say you enjoyed the first few months helping out around the avengers tower and catering to people who intimidated you- but after two years you had come to form closer relationships with those on the team and were more than just a nuisance.

but there was one other person you spent a lot of time with.

peter parker.

you were basically the same age as him, both the same generation and shared the exact same humour. your friendship with peter was nothing like the ones you possessed with the other, older avengers.

your texts between each other consisted of memes and spammed word vomit. peter spilled his secrets and his fears to you while you comforted him and listened. he didn’t see you any differently despite being aware of your hidden relation to his boss, respecting you enough to never bring it up.

there were times where you’d catch him staring at you for too long or you’d accidentally touch each other and he’d linger… just a little bit. you only brushed it off that he was clingy and touch starved.

alas, peter knew sometimes you would feel embarrassed of the fact you were tony’s kid especially when tony never liked to share details about himself to his coworkers. a few of them had been told too but treated you like you weren’t the daughter of one of the most narcissistic men they knew.

another reason you got along well with everyone. so much that you had been silently promoted to aiding in missions and able to train side by side with peter and the rest of the avengers.

when sparing with peter, he’d purposefully sweep your legs out from under you, only to collect your wrist in both of his hands and slam them to the mat, his thighs locked on either side of your hips and his face unnecessarily lowered to hover over yours.

you found most of your sessions under him and while it frustrated you that he beat you every single time, you couldn’t help but notice the look on peter’s face when he did trap you to the floor.

you also noticed how as soon as he got off of you, peter was quick to end the sparring match- practically running out of the gym, his pace fast and posture hunched over. maybe peter was just weird in general?

but he couldn’t help it. seeing you under him, looking vulnerable and so damn pretty like that… his cock swelled with blood and his balls ached with the need to breed you. every. single. time.

the feeling didn’t go away, even after may had died. despite the fact peter had become a mess, you were right there, picking up the pieces that used to be him and taping them back together as best as you could.

that’s when tony had made the executive decision to take peter in. he reasoned that he was already like a father figure to the poor boy, nothing would change. tony obviously had a soft spot for him.

at least, that’s what he said to convince you. and you couldn’t turn peter away when everyone he loved was no longer in his life.

so he moved into the building, took all of his belongings and clothes with him. peter put university on hold while he figured things out. you were understanding and tony- supportive. that’s when he could see the resemblance between you two. you both cared for him. and he suggested to become apart of your family.

of course tony took it the wrong way and surprised peter by adopting him, not even telling you beforehand. you were both speechless but for different reasons.

when peter stroked his leaking dick at night, giving into his fantasies of pushing your head down and dragging his red sensitive tip across your slit and deep inside your soaked walls; he could do so freely. now? now he couldn’t.

he couldn’t have you the way he wanted. peter was definitely frustrated at the new dynamic between you and him but he found it as an excuse to freely walk into your room whenever he wanted. why not? he was your step brother now.

it creeped you out at first, how he would sometimes silently slip past your doorway and make himself at home, occasionally starting up random conversations as if he hadn’t done anything wrong.

eventually you got used to it. sometimes leaving your room to grab a snack or go to the bathroom. you could trust peter not to break anything. he was such a sweet and quiet guy.

and that’s when he would take his chance, going through your drawers and stealing little things of yours.

the sheer panties your best friend from high school had given you for your birthday. a photo of you in a revealing bikini from a trip to the beach when you used to live with your mom. one of the many bottles of body spray that littered your vanity. lotion that you used all the time. another pair of underwear that were less appealing but you wore all the time when you wanted to dress comfortably.

peter even started to lay on your bed on his stomach as soon as you left the room and grind his hips down, rubbing his jean clad bulge against the soft blanket you slept under. he’d stick his face down into your pillow and hump your mattress, veiny hands fisting any fabric he could grab and pulling it closer to his nose, smelling you while he thought of raw dogging your puffy pussy in your own bed.

just when he was on the verge of cumming in his pants, you’d always walk in and he’d feign innocence. pretending he wasn’t just dry humping your bed like a greedy rabbit. you were never the wiser.

you noticed certain things of yours started to go missing little by little until you barely had things to wear or use. you assumed it was the dryer eating your entire wardrobe so you complained to tony and he gave you his card to buy an entire new one.

he didn’t want you going alone though so he made peter go with you. you weren’t entirely thrilled since had he had been glued to your hip almost constantly as of recently but you went along with it, knowing that if you didn’t agree, tony wouldn’t let you go at all.

so when you get to the small shop on the busy corner, peter wouldn’t stop suggesting pieces for you to buy or even try on. you found that they were either way too revealing or borderline inappropriate for him to request. but he wouldn’t stop insisting, going as far as to shove a whole armful of things into you and pushing you to the changing room very eagerly.

“i’m just trying to help.” he told you before closing the door behind you once you fully stepped inside. it didn’t help that every two minutes he’d knock and ask if you had finished, that he wanted to see what they looked like on you.

you obliged, feeling a bit uncomfortable. you were exposed- not to mention in front of peter. your step brother.

you left the small room in the first thing he had shown you, a size too small t-shirt and extremely tiny booty shorts. but peter seemed to hype you up, smiling enthusiastically. his eyes held a glossed over look while his gaze slowly went down your body, taking in how your skin would stick out and show where it probably shouldn’t be.

“okay turn around.” he spoke abruptly, making your face twist into one of uncertainty. he shook his head and merely spoke down to you like you were playing dumb; “come on, i just wanna see what the back looks like.”

huffing out a sigh, you reluctantly shifted your weight and spun to show your backside.

when you did though- you swore you heard a camera clicking but when you whipped your head around to catch whoever had taken your picture without consent.. no one was there.

“peter..?” you meekly stared around, looking for the boy but he had disappeared as if in thin air. the only other people you saw were two employees reorganizing hangers across the wall.

your stomach twisted and you shrunk back into the changing room, not bothering to try the other pieces on and put your own clothes back on, feeling anxious that someone was watching you.

as soon as you went to open the door, peter was standing right in front of the entrance- making you jump and drop the large pile of things you were holding.

“woah, sis. calm down. it’s just me.” he laughed it off, giving you that boyish smile, peter’s eyes never leaving yours. you felt your face flush and apologized- pushing past him to put the exposing clothes back on the racks where he had gotten them from.

ever since then, you felt violated. you avoided peter. you started to ask FRIDAY to lock your door with an access code. you weren’t entirely sure it had been him but he was starting to freak you out even after that day.

you’d wake up multiple nights in a row, in a cold sweat, absolutely sure you could feel someone else had been inside your room besides yourself.

you’d place your hoodie down on the couch to grab a drink, coming back to find it gone.

peter would stay up for two hours after you went to bed, wanting to be certain you had fallen asleep before typing in the access code to your room- watching you put it in while he stuck to the ceiling one day.

he’d quietly shuffle in and see your phone beside your pillow and your face scrunched up while you dreamt. he’d whisper your name just to double check then crept over to your bed, hovering down to stare.

the next thing he knew, he was fucking hard- just by looking at you. that’s what you did to him and you didn’t even know it. his step sister always teasing him, purposefully taunting him with something that was forbidden for peter.

but he bottled up his frustration, struggling to push down his jeans as silently as possible. the slight sound of denim rubbing against itself was drowned out as his pants clung just below his knees. he hadn’t worn a belt for this very reason. wanted easy access while keeping you unaware of his presence.

peter bit his lip when his warm palm finally made contact with his cock, the angry tip already leaking and spilling down to weave through his fingers. “mmshit..” he choked out, careful not to be too loud when he started to stroke himself. his eyes were locked onto your sleeping face, his tongue darting out to drag across his bottom lip with desire. desire for you.

since he couldn’t have you, this was the best he could do, flicking his wrist to increase the speed that his hand jerked his dick, his cheeks wearing a dark flush the faster he went.

“yeah.. wanna breed my lil’sis.. make you mine, baby..” peter muttered, leaning forward so that his cock was right beside the pillow, the back of his hand almost ghosting your nose every time he moved up the entirety of his throbbing length.

he had only touched himself above you one other time but every single night since he saw how your ass looked in those small shorts- he couldn’t help but visit you while you were unconscious, whispering about how badly he wanted to feel your pretty cunt wrapped around his dick, about how good he bets you taste. but he was growing restless, as he confided in your passed out form- he needed more.

which lead to two nights ago. peter couldn’t help but jack off while sitting at the chair in front of your desk in the corner, listening to your soft breaths, one your previously used panties stuffed into his mouth to keep himself quiet - forcing peter to spurt cum all over his hand and bare thighs.

tonight was no different but he was feeling bolder, the aggressive animalistic demand his mind screamed at him to paint your face and mark you as his. to see how hot you looked while his warm sticky seed dripped down your lips and chin and onto your sheets, ruining them. ruining you.

a low groan rumbled in his chest when you shifted, your face now just under his slapping balls. peter almost came at the sight of your unconscious submission, your eyes fluttering and your lips just barely parted. ready to swallow the load he could feel about to explode from his swollen cock head.

his other hand not gripping his dick, shot out to claw at your head board to steady himself from falling on top of you, his body tingling with pure heat. he could barely stand, his knees buckling and the strong muscles in his pale thighs rippling with the effort to maintain his stance.

he was sure he could last another few minutes but when you moved your arms under your blanket, the sudden action pulled it down, revealing the loose tank top you had chosen to wear to bed.

peter’s eyes flitted down to your tits, and upon noticing you hadn’t worn a bra, your nipples stiff and pressing into the fabric- he let out a loud moan, massive ropes of white cum pouring out of his cock.

a few spurts hit your bare collarbones, your chest, the soft blanket draped over you and of course your pretty face. he watched as the thick goo caught on the tip of your nose and bottom lip- gravity causing it to run inside your mouth and down your cheeks onto the pillow.

“fuuuck.” peter cursed at the sight of his cum soaked step sister, all laid out for him.

when you felt something hot splatter your skin you flinched. it had made you stir. blinking your messy eyelids, trying to get whatever it was out of your eyes- you were fully awakened when you heard that familiar click of a camera.

rising your hand up to drag your numb fingers across your face, whatever was on it stuck to your digits and webbed between them. then you noticed it was also in your mouth so you leaned forward and let it drizzle out past your lips and land on your sheets. then you saw movement in the darkness and your unfocused gaze lifted to just barely be able to make out what it was. or who it was.

your body ran cold- you were first met with a cock that was still strikingly hard, leaking and pointing right at you, followed by hair framing the base of the shaft, accompanied by a small trail of the same hair up to below his bellybutton.. peter’s face above it all.

he lowered his phone with clouded eyes, panting heavily and cheeks flushed. his eyes on you.

“…pete?”

#peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker #dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #stepbrother!peter parker #step siblings #x reader #smut #fanfic #marvel #marvel smut #female reader #peter parker x female reader #avengers #headcannons #best friends #self insert #creative #writing

[clarks-letterman]

lost in reality | perv!peter parker x gender-neutral!reader

a/n — this is not what i usually post! there was going to be more smut but i didn't know how far to go with it, so if anyone wants to see something more extended, let me know! (Peter is a bit of a perv in this but i tried to make him get his comeuppance) gender-neutral, i think

warnings — smut! 18+, some brief facefucking, gore (sorta mild, but don't read if you don't like it!)

summary — Peter uses the reality stone to practice his pickup skills. With such a powerful device at his disposal, what could go wrong?

words — 3.7k

~~~

A mesh of red and blue ambled to the quarters of the Avenger's compound. No rush nor worry affected Peter as he kept one foot light over the other, heading into each step, furthering him down the hallway. It was another neighborhood saved and another day where he would be free from the thoughts of letting his powers go to waste, and his life could finally regress into normalcy for the start of the new day. While he had a kick in his step from how smoothly the night had gone—and how much his mentor acknowledged the fact—Peter felt the need for something a little more caffeinated to help him instead.

As Peter returned from his latest venture, taking no rush to get to his room, you were on your way out of the resident android's room. In your hand, a pad of Stark Industries-branded notepad paper with all but one of the Avengers' coffee orders scribbled down filled it. You would not be in Vision's room with the question of coffee being the reason, something he was physically incapable of drinking, but Wanda frequented the room, and it was likely that she was in there. You were right to assume that, and now, you planned to check the door just further down the hall to see if Peter was around.

It turned out that you did not need to go far; the bright colors of his suit caught your eye the second you stepped out into the corridor. Anything resembling Peter's mood of being on top of the world was gone, and so was that little kick that pushed him further—you could almost see him lose it in his eyes once he saw you, even from afar. You approached him with one thing on your mind, the pen and paper used to record everyone's order at the ready.

"He-," he cleared his throat before lowering the pitch of his voice, "Hey."

"He-," he cleared his throat before lowering the pitch of his voice, "Hey."

"He-," he cleared his throat before lowering the pitch of his voice, "Hey."

There was an awkward silence between the following words until you reminded him by tapping your pen to the side of the notepad to draw his attention to it and speaking up, "Your order?"

"What?" He was already blowing it. Peter glanced down to his red-spandex feet and then back to you, his voice returning to its natural pitch, "Oh, yeah, uh—"

Peter paused. He realized he did not know what he wanted, and while you found the evident attempt to appear cool somewhat endearing, you could have already been heading out to get coffee for everyone by now. Almost by reflex, you started to tap the pen against the nearly completed list of coffee orders ranging from simple menu items to oddly specific modifications to non-existent drinks. And in seconds, the pen slipped from your grasp and unceremoniously landed on the laminate of the hallway floor.

"Shit," you reached down to grab the ballpoint, but Peter stopped you.

"I'll get it."

He attempted to bend over, only to find his hand stuck to the wall. Peter quickly stood straight, subtly tugging his hand away from the wall without tearing a new hand-shaped hole in the plaster and paint. In his panic, Peter's hand stuck itself to the wall, and no matter how hard he tried to pull away from it, his hand wouldn't budge. That left you to get the dropped pen, reaching for it without the trouble of spider-centric powers messing with you.

You looked to Peter, scribbling down his name next to Tony's order, "I'll just get you what Tony gets and leave you alone with your hand. See you later, Peter."

With that, Peter was left alone and sufficiently embarrassed as you strode down the hall, and, finally, his hand let him free once you were gone. He scuttled to his room in a bout of shame and locked the door, heading to his mirror with a plan to practice asking you out. It was a simple mirror resting on the opposite side of the wall that had betrayed him, even if it was an inanimate object that could neither sway nor influence his spider abilities. He planned on using the reflective rectangular sheet as a stand-in for you but decided to change himself into something that didn't remind him of the awkward encounter he had moments ago.

Now, he stared at himself in the length of the full-body mirror, dressed in a tee sporting Midtown's gold and navy-blue colors and a simple pair of beige cargo pants. It was more on your level, casual clothes that were unlike the striking symbolism of his superhero suit. Peter hoped it would make him feel more comfortable talking to you, as he wouldn't discern the need to be perfect in everything he does around you. He could be Peter.

The first words he spoke to himself in the mirror were natural, not meant to sound broody or cool. It was how he usually talked: voice cracks and diffidence-galore, "Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to swing me to get coffee with you?"

Peter realized his slip-up and started the question over again.

"Oh my God, that's so funny that you get coffee!" He placed a hand over his chest with a fake smile to match, "I love caffeine and wanted to know if you would drink me. I mean, drink it with me?"

“Hey, I was just in the neighborhood—saving it, and all. Coffee, you-me? Then, we could come back here for. . .” He paused, knowing that he could never be that smug with you—he could barely get his powers to work! How would the Parker-Charm not blow up on ignition? “Okay, dial it back, Pete.”

"I'm hopeless," Peter let his head fall, staring at the floor. He could hardly watch himself fumble in the mirror, but the glint of a red sheen in the mirror pulled him back—the reality stone, sitting on one of the few bookshelves resting against the walls of his room. This one housed various meticulously assembled Star Wars-themed Lego sets, and the stone quickly became an amenity on the set of Boba Fett's Starship. Could he use it for this, of all things? If he did use it, it would only be for a couple of minutes. For practice, he told himself.

Many people would probably ask why a teenager would have one of the most mighty pieces of rock sitting on a shelf in his bedroom, and well, Peter wouldn't know the answer himself as to why he was allowed to keep it. According to Tony, he was a good kid, and the rest of the team knew he wouldn't use it for anything malicious, like obliterating half of all human existence. So, it was a souvenir, a relic that Peter never utilized for anything apart from letting it be some seriously cool decor and a piece he constantly bragged about to his only two friends.

He turned away from the mirror, retrieved the stone from its entrapment in the plastic bricks, and returned to his full-length reflection. The jagged edges dug into the soft inside of his palm in retaliation to the pressure as he squeezed it with a closed fist. With a single thought—one that held details of nearly everything about you—a soft ring of smoke formed a couple of feet away from him on the carpet. His heart thrummed as it quickly moved upward, revealing your form as it went. After a few moments, the puff of smoke faded as it rounded your head, topping off the manifested version of yourself.

Nothing could compare to the real you, but this was close.

The imagined version of you standing before Peter looked like the spitting image of you, almost to the point where, if dressed the same, it would be impossible to tell the two of you apart. Almost. But, there was one thing that let Peter tell the visually deceitful version of you apart from the real one: he couldn't hear a heartbeat. He figured that, while you looked the same on the outside, the inside was missing a few vital features of the real you.

Regardless, Peter struggled to remember that information since your lesser interpretation was still stunning enough to make his heart sink into the never-ending pit in his stomach. His feelings got the better of him, and Peter started his practice in err from the moment he opened his mouth.

He held the stone tight, waving his other hand to you, "Hey—hi, do you know who I am?"

"Yeah, you're Peter." You stated it as if he should have known that already, and he noted it. From what he could tell, you had at least some part of the memory of your actual self, so maybe this version of you could provide an accurate reaction to asking you to get coffee with him.

"Okay, cool. Cool. Yeah, that's. . . cool," Peter trailed.

"Why do you keep saying cool?"

The only problem was that you were real. Unduly real. Down to the slightest mannerisms that anyone but Peter would be able to catch when they spent time with you, and with your stunning looks and perfect quirks brought about by the stone, Peter could remember everything about you. He could hardly hear the absence of your heartbeat from his' sonority, ultimately distracting himself from his original intent.

"So, what did you wanna ask me?"

"You. . . you ask a lot of questions. But, I wanted to know if you could—"

Peter was finally going to get the words out, albeit to someone who was only pretending to be you. He wouldn't have to worry about finishing that project he procrastinated on—this would be his big success of the day. But his web-shooter had gone off erroneously across the room, spraying against the walls and pouring onto the floor from its canister. He jumped away from the source and nearly dropped the stone in the process.

Peter's mind was fleeting, even his rehearsal was going wrong, and he immediately thought of an old trick for speaking to people that he hadn't needed since a young age—he imagined you in your underwear. He didn't mean for it to happen, but if he thought it, the stone made it a reality for as long as he held the little rock. He watched as a red puff of smoke took your clothes into the air, vanishing from your body in less than a second. Underneath, a simple pair of boxer briefs clung to your nether region. Maybe it wasn’t all about the practice to Peter. His mind had thought of this, so it couldn't be that bad to indulge in it.

"Could you come over here?" He asked, throat dry. He needed to feel you to confirm he had not gone completely insane from one too many hits on the head. Peter defeatedly took a few steps to his bed, sitting down on the edge of it. "Please?"

His heart pounded with each step you took, accepting his wish to draw near. Peter could not help but watch your vulnerability follow ostensibly close behind. In just one beat, you stood directly in front of him. He watched your knees rise and fall on either side of his legs as you sat on his thighs. Peter felt the warmth of your presence, the surprising weight of you on his hairless and sinewy thighs, even if you were empty inside.

Peter was bristling, brown eyes wandering over your exposed form. His body felt immovable, no matter how much he wished to drop the stone and watch you vanish. His head was the only thing not to freeze, the rest of his body turning into a well-sculpted monolith. His jaw moved with a bit of tension, "I didn't ask you to do it like this."

"No, but you thought it."

"How did you. . . ?"

"You thought that, too."

Peter realized that he was practically having a conversation with himself, just through the guise of your face. The details became more apparent; the color of your eyes, the set of your mouth, and the same smile lines appeared as he thought about its utter perfection. He connected that now, asking you to come closer only worsened his issue. Your presence over his prominent bulge made it push the limits of its cotton confines. Slowly, his marble arm broke from his reserved mold, and an empty hand cupped your cheek the same way he had always thought about doing it. He would use both, but one was occupied with creating his living dream. Then his hand slid away and around to the back of your neck, your hair brushing his chewed fingernails and overly scraped knuckles.

He knew that guiding you into the kiss was redundant as he could think about it, but this was far more passionate. As he brought you close, the thought of your smell and the feeling of hot breath joining in concordant timing against each other's skin started to fill his head. At the touch of your lips to his, Peter kissed like someone who had nothing to lose. Like he didn't have the responsibility of seeming to have it all together placed foremost. Like he could be a needy and desperate mess for more than a passing swing around New York. Only now, and only because of you.

His impetuous thinking decided that taking care of his problem now would mean that he could resolve everything else later. He needed to take care of it now; it was the only thought running through his head. Desire.

Breaking away, Peter silently commanded you to slide off your boxers and get on your knees. He caught a glimpse of you as you followed his direction, surprised by how his mind subconsciously filled in the gaps for everything he had never seen.

Your hands worked in a way that left their presence unknown until they were hooked into the band of his boxers, easily tugging down on the well-worn stitching to free Peter's springy dick. He watched your eyes ogle it and how you took it into your hand without a second thought, and while he filled your hand well, he couldn't help but think about his inadequacy. He had seen his teammates' sizes after sharing training sessions with them. Not that he was looking on purpose, but mostly out of insecurity. Peter already paled in comparison to the heights and builds of the others, and while he was far from small, they didn't make him look all that great. Peter started to wonder if the stone affected him in the same way it did you.

With a single thought, he decided to test it. He watched his shaft grow bigger and chub up with a thicker girth. Your hand could barely wrap around it as it had with his true size. It felt like an innocuous veneer to gaining the confidence that he never had. As a result, he was eager to get you on him and make you squirm like one of the criminals he spun webs around.

In seconds, your lips formed an imperfect circle and took the head of the arachnid, and the rest of him, as if it were nothing. Your lips brushed his decent smattering of hair around the base of his cock without convulsion. This version of you had a throat that fit around him like a cock-sleeve, hugging his girth without any of the need for restraint.

"No gag reflex? This is better than any toy I ever made."

Peter's hands found their way back to the rear of your head, controlling the pace at which you took him for his own pleasure. The sheer feeling of something far better than lubed-up rubber made him go wild.

At a certain point, he couldn't remember when his mind started to break reality further than he thought until he was suddenly yanked back to it. Peter started to feel effervescent guilt towards his actions. This is what he wanted, but not how he wanted to get it. Quickly, Peter felt the heavy weight on his chest return, the need to right himself by putting an end to this. He hated that he changed himself to impress something that wasn't even you. He wondered what his mentor would think, what you would think, or how you would react. A small shift inside him sent that weight toward his hand, the one he held the stone in, and it went from its dormant glim keeping the illusion alive to a bright shine, creating something new.

"Get off, get off, please," Peter asked, thinking the words in his head as hard as he could to free himself from his twisted fantasy. You let his stiff, unrelieved dick pop out of your mouth and got off your knees.

"What's wrong, Peter?" He had thought that, too. What was wrong with him?

He could barely stand to face you, but he needed to acknowledge you to make you leave. When he did work up the nerve to look in your direction, the guilt glared back at him. He felt like a creepy monster for even thinking it was a good idea to give in to his urges. The feeling overtook him so much that he didn't even realize your gradual change.

At first, it was your face. The pleasureful expression turned into a sour one, eyebrows funneling together and your upper lip upturned. But, the features of your face pressed forward as if they were made of putty and someone was trying to claw their way out. They stretched out and ballooned until they burst, leaving you headless. Your body went without a head for a few seconds before the more seasoned details of his mentor formed in your absence.

He kept his hand flat, wicking it away from his body and the rest of his arm with the hope that the stone would fall off, but his powers had already made that choice for him. Then, he thought of his suit, his web-shooters, and the communicator that could signal Tony. If he drew attention to the issue, it would resolve itself, but could he successfully explain everything as if it were the typical morning paper arriving at the doorstep? He could try, or at the very least, lie. But that would never solve this issue, though, not in the long run.

Peter formed a mental map of the fastest route to his closet in his head and decided that his backup web-shooters might be strong enough to hold the illusion down and give him time to pry the stone from his nonreciprocating palm. He turned, locking eyes with the monster as it started changing again.

Peter looked on in horror, the stone shining its brightest and shading the monster in terrifying red like a stop sign you see at the last minute when your heart sinks at the thought of being crushed. The soft tear of wet, stretching flesh and its stringy reformation flushed his ears as the beast before him grew. The harsh snap and sound of bones splintering from the fattening weight pierced his sensitive ears; nothing new to him at this point in his life, but he had never heard so many cracks and gushing wounds. Yet, through all the bodily changes, Peter never broke his stare with the amalgamation of his worst thoughts. Its eyes never left him, either. The cold and frighteningly dead stare of non-existent emotion didn't phase him until he heard a heartbeat, one that he believed came from the creature itself.

However, it wasn't the monster's—it was yours, heavy-thudded blood-pumping. The real you and your usually pleasant voice calling for his response. From the other side of the door, he heard you pleading for him to answer and affirm that he was okay. He figured that you must have overheard his distress and the ensuing raucous.

Peter reached for the stone but stopped. Everything was gone. His suit still sat in a messy pile on the floor, but the webbing was gone from the walls. The stain on the carpet was no longer there, and his pants were the only thing absent from his body, but nothing left the confines of his boxers. Had all of it really been in his head?

He quickly answered the door without any precaution, seeing your face still intact.

"Hey, I got you something different than Tony's. I was in line and remembered when you drank out of his cup by mistake and spat it all over the counter. Are you okay? I thought I heard a girl screaming."

“Thank you, and it wasn't a. . . never mind. Do you want to come in and hang?”

“Yeah! But get some pants on first, Spidey. I can't have my thoughts get to me.”

#dark fic #peter parker x male!reader #peter parker x gender neutral reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman x gn!reader #spiderman x male reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x gn reader #peter parker x gender neutral!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x male reader #tom holland x gender neutral reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x you #dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #dark!tom holland #perv!peter parker

[shayyprasad]

faults | peter parker

summary: peter's a nice guy, you liked him. key word being liked.

warning: non-con, slut-shaming (no nsfw/smut)

pairing: dark!peter x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k+ words (i've never done dark!peter before, just playing around with the idea)

check out my masterlist!

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

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

(first person)

loud music drummed in my ears as narrowly avoided people. if i'm being honest, i'm not quite sure why i agreed to this in the first place.

aliyah, my best friend of seven years, was dead-set on planning a party for me. what type of person would i be to let her down like that? so naturally, i agreed, right?

only now was i regretting this.

the thing is, when she said "party", i thought she meant a couple people. maybe some school friends. i thought that spencer, this guy i just recently started going out with would be there too, but he's just ghosted me. like completely.

i haven't heard from him or anything, sucks, kinda.

...peter. he'd was coming, too.

i wasn't sure what was going on between us. it was subtle flirting, and i thought it was platonic. don't get me wrong, i really did like him at first, but now i'm not sure.

yeah, he's hot. but also not my type. granted, i don't really have a type, though i do think we'd be better off as friends. also, he wasn't the same as he used to be. and i know something's changed, even if i can't pinpoint what it is.

but lately, i'm not sure if we're on the same page about that. everyone thinks we're dating, because apparently you can't be just friends with a guy.

i'm genuinely unsure how to break that to him.

we did try one date, if you could even call it that. peter took me to the movies, but he never quite clarified what it was.

technically, i was a minor at that time, so maybe it was a friendly thing.

it didn't matter though, i told him that i wasn't interested in him. also... spencer, right?

spencer was a guy i'd been talking to, and i won't lie, he's pretty cute. 

i don't know. i try not to think about it because it makes my brain hurt. so, uh, yeah. that's that.

lost in my ever loving train of thoughts, i wasn't watching where i was going, and i ran into someone.

not just someone.

peter, of all people. the one guy i was trying to avoid.

lovely. absolutely lovely.

"heyyy, birthday girl! how's the party?"

"uh. yeah, it's... awesome," i winced.

"not your scene? okay, but, like, bright side?" he paused, as if he were waiting for me to say something, but when i didn't, he continued. "you're a legal adult! not a minor anymore, right?"

he had this unusual twinkle in his eye, like there was more to unpack. peter pulled me close to him, chugging wherever it was in the red solo cup he had in his hand.

pete's hand... was lower than comfortable, but i figured it was best not to say anything.

it was obvious he was totally out of it, and i inhaled sharply at the sharp stench of alcohol.

"wanna get out of here?" he asked, gripping me harder.

"um..." i wasn't sure what he was implying, because he literally could. not. take me anywhere.

"c'mon."

"wait, i—"

too late. i was already being dragged out the door. pete brought me out in front of his car... well, his old truck.

"no, no, no. you're way too drunk to drive, peter. you aren't taking me anywhere."

he groaned, rolling his eyes. "buzzkill."

i inhaled sharply, stopping myself from getting upset. he wouldn't normally do something like this... right?

"all right, fine, fine," he slurred. "h-how about... ooh! let's go to my place!"

i hesitated, unsure of how comfortable i felt with that. especially since he'd been so weird, with all the touching. i knew that he didn't live in a dorm and—

wait, what?

no, no. peter and i were friends, and i could trust him, right? it could have been the alcohol that was making the edges of my brain turn fuzzy, but i finally agreed.

"um, okay."

"mm. it's like..." pete hiccuped, and mentally facepalmed. "somewhere here."

"you're lucky i know the way, dummy." i said, smacking his head. he did nothing but grin back at me.

we walked in silence, or i did really, while he babbled on about the most random things. i didn't mind it, considering he was drunk.

it was chilly outside, and the cold air nipped at my skin, making me shiver. peter must have noticed this, because he swung a hand over my shoulders, lazily pulling me close.

i thought it best not to say anything, and also, he was warm. so, i guess i wasn't complaining all that much.

eventually, we got to his place. he fumbled with the keys, trying to shove it into the lock. unsuccessfully, might i add.

getting tired, i took them from him, unlocking the door.

"there we go." i pushed him inside, shutting the door behind me. "how about we get you come water?" peter didn't argue as i pulled open a cabinet, grabbing a cup. i filled it up with water for him and handed it over.

"drink it. all of it."

"yes, mom."

it seemed like that helped him sober up slightly, and i flopped down on the couch. that party had exhausted me altogether. peter was quiet as he sat down next to me, rubbing his eyes.

he looked over at me, but i kept my eyes fixed at the tv in front. i was flipping though channels, trying to find something good.

"look at me," he whispered.

i sucked in a breath, turning my head to do so, "yeah?"

and then, that's when it happened. so quickly and roughly, i didn't even register it. because one second we were face to face, and the next, he was grabbing my face, kissing me.

instantly, i pulled away, looking at him in horror. "what the fuck, peter? you can't— you can't do that!"

"do what?" he stared dumbly.

i just blinked at him, confused. "i..."

he kissed me, without consent. that wasn't okay, right? peter just looked at me, raising an eyebrow. was this because he was drunk?

"well, i- you just kissed me?"

"so? i thought you were chill. besides, you were basically asking for this."

what did he mean? asking for it? i wasn't asking for anything. i didn't even like him like that, and i thought he knew that. well, i mean, i was pretty sure. kind of. 

"b-but i wasn't." i was trying to make my voice more firm, but it probably (most likely) sounded very pathetic. clearing my throat, i tried again, "peter, i don't like you that way. as a friend, of course, but not... not more than that. this one time it's okay, since i guess it's also on me for not making that clear."

"don't like me that way? are you serious?"

"well-"

"you come around, to my house, dressed in that, and you expect me to think we're just friends? i did you the favor of waiting until you were 'of legal age' and all that crap, so what the fuck are you on about?"

"pe-"

"you've literally been sleazing around like a slut, practically begging for attention."

no, he was reading this wrong. i met him at the cafe i worked at, and we hit it off. as friends. besides, he was older than me. well, not by much, but still. and what did he mean by "slut"? it was my birthday party! that i didn't even want to be at! peter was the one who invited me here, right?

"and, on top of that, you've been leading me on. now that's fucked up."

"leading-? yes, okay, maybe a little. and- and i'm really sorry about that, but-" i backed up into the couch, trying to move away from him.

"i love you, y/n/n. and," he scoffed, "and i can treat you way better then any of these other guys."

love? he loves me? how- we've only known each other for a couple months. 

i thought, if anything, this was platonic flirting. was this really my fault?

"i think i should go, peter, we can talk later." i was uncomfortable now. no, past that.

i was scared. 

peter was scaring me.

"i'm not into you, and i'm-"

"seeing that other guy?" he finished. "what was his name, again? spencer? ever wonder what happened to him?" there was a dangerous look in his eye, and that's all it took for me to understand.

"oh my god, what did you do?"

"what i needed to," peter pinned my hands above the wall, "i was gonna wait, and do this the nice way, but you've left me with no choice."

"no, please, peter," i choked out, tears streaming down my face. 

"this is your fault, y/n."

and it must have been. i hurt him, so this was only fair. 

right?

taglist!

@whatsupstark

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

[yichuuonvenus]

The Willow Maid

Dark!Peter Parker x Reader

~Description~

You were enchanting… Everything about you made him floored by you from the way you smiled to the way you moved. Your hair always seemed to shine in the moonlight. Just like right now.

~Warnings~

Rape/Non-con, Possessive Behavior, Face Slapping, Dryad!reader, Hunter!Peter Parker, Fantasy AU

You were enchanting…

Everything about you made him floored by you from the way you smiled to the way you moved. 

Your hair always seemed to shine in the moonlight. 

Just like right now.

Peter couldn’t stop staring at you. He came across you suddenly when he heard a voice singing. The music that came from your lips had him enchanted by you. It was so soft and sweet. It sounded like a song that was meant for him. 

You were like a dream to Peter. A beautiful magical dream he didn’t want to wake from. He knew from the first song your voice prettily sang you were rightfully his. 

He wanted only him to hear your sweet loving songs. For him to be the only one you sang to. That’s what he decided the day he wanted to take you away and marry you. 

He followed you every day constantly and marked what you did, how you did it, why you did it. He figured out that you lived on the willow tree. Sleeping in the sturdier part of the branches. There you would make blankets out of the yarn-like leaves and sing your heavenly songs. 

You never left the forest, or the willow tree. It was like a post. He noticed how you would hug the tree and talk to it as if it could understand you. He loved just watching when you talked to the tree. The smile that would grace your face only made him fall deeper in love with you. 

Today, you were just lazing about on the forest bed waving your hand through the water, giggling at the fishes that swam up to kiss your hand. You look so blissful just laying there enjoying the water. 

He decided that today was the day he was going to make you, his. That he was going to introduce himself instead of watching you. 

He stepped steadily into view but you didn’t look up so he stepped a bit closer. His shadow and reflection mirrored in the water, all the fishes swam away scared by the sudden shadow. Your hand stopped waving through the water for a moment and you focused on the reflection. You carefully turned around and when you did your beauty was one like no other. 

You both stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity before he finally broke the silence. 

“My maiden… I I have been enchanted by you…” he said eyes filled with admiration. 

Your gaze remained unchanged, a look of neither surprise nor nervousness. It was just your natural face, a face of pure serenity. 

“Come with me. Come with me, my maiden,” he whispered the last part but he knew you still heard him.

He didn’t know if you understood him until you shook your head.

You spoke, your voice ever so gentle made his heart sing but the words that left your mouth made his immediately made him snap out of it, “I cannot leave this place, Hunter. Don't ask me to follow where you lead.” 

Before he could even have a chance to think you left him, disappearing in the willow’s thick leaves. 

Peter stared dumbfounded at the place you left him. He wanted to follow you towards the tree but he didn’t see signs of you anywhere around or in the tree. 

He knew he had to try again. 

No, He needed to try again and this time you wouldn’t say no. 

. . . 

Peter held a yellow flower he’s seen you stare at often in awe and smell with glee on your face. He thought since you rarely left, it would be nice if you could have the flower for yourself.

You were staring out into the River bank humming softly while braiding bits of your hair. You looked so serene like you’ve known nothing but the calamity of the forest for your entire life. Peter would be the one to change that, to show you the world. 

You stopped when you heard him. You turned your head with a look he couldn’t quite place. 

“My maiden, your beauty is nothing compared to this flower but I hope it will suffice…” he gently laid the flower in your hands.

You gently held the flower in your hands and stared at it. Your eyebrows furrowed while you looked at it. 

“I’m enchanted by you and your beauty. I want to be the only one who listens to your sweet songs. I hope to be your husband,” he said eyes gleaming at you. 

You couldn’t hide your feelings. Your face said it all as your lips curved into a soft frown and tears started to well in your eyes. 

You shook your head just like before while holding the flower tightly to your chest. 

“I will never marry you,” you said, the frown on your face becoming more apparent. “Not near, nor far, nor soon.” 

A small why left Peter’s lips as you stared at him. As if you were frightened you stepped back towards your willow. Peter couldn’t let you go. Not yet. Not while you are not giving him an answer as to why. 

Peter gripped your dress. You let out a yep before trying to pull him off, tearing it in the process just before you vanished. 

Peter was angry. You left him again just after he gave you a flower and poured his feelings into you. 

“You will come to regret your decision,” he said into the wind. You still heard him and shook as you laid the flower on the willow tree’s branches, softly crying for him to just go away. 

Days went by. 

Then weeks. 

Then months… 

He was nowhere to be found. 

You went on your day like any other. It was sunny and the green lush leaves of your tree shined brilliantly. You lay on the grass, admiring the new flowers that were growing in. It was all so peaceful. That hunter was finally gone and you could enjoy protecting your tree. 

You could’ve laid there all day but you had things to do. Things that were important to the plant life of the forest. You went on your way. You could never stray from your tree or your forest so you had the help of little rabbits and squirrels to get you the things you needed. 

You felt something was wrong for a moment like there was an impending doom that was about to befall the forest. You wanted to ignore it. Your mother protected you and the woods, surely nothing would happen. 

Oh how wrong you were. 

You felt a hit to the back of your head and when you came to. You were on the forest floor with nothing on. You would’ve screamed if there wasn’t a gag in your mouth. Your hands were tied. There was no way you could’ve freed yourself. There was a voice in your ear telling you it was okay. Whispering how much you looked tonight while they petted your hair. 

Your lungs almost gave out from your muffled screams. That hunter was right above you, kissing your face, using his filthy hands to touch your body, stroking and touching the most precious parts of you. 

“Mother,” you tried to say. “Mother help me.”

But no one came. No one was there to save you. You cried when you realized it. That no one was coming for you. Not even your mother. 

His eyes were so soft as they stared back at yours, which made you confused. You could feel that he was conflicted with what he wanted to do. You didn’t sense any regret nor was he upset with what he was about to do. He pressed his fingers against you, slowly rubbing your clit until you were wet enough for his fingers. He kept his fingers there while his other hand lowered down to a spot that had you screaming. You kept twisting the rope that was holding you it was rubbing your skin raw and you could smell the blood that came from it. 

A harsh slap made you stop altogether. It was so hard it had your ears ringing throughout your head. 

“My sweet maiden please forgive me. I just wanted to calm you,” he said as tears rolled down his cheeks. 

What he was feeling now was remorse but it wasn’t for you. It was for him because he didn’t want to hit you. He was upset because you made him hit you. You could’ve thrown up at the emotions you were feeling from him. The scent of no regrets of what he wanted to do to you made you sick. 

Fingers stuff themselves deep into you. You’ve never felt anything more intrusive than his fingers. They are what made you quiet other than your deep breaths that he mistook. For what you weren’t sure but he made him happy every time you cried out. 

When he felt like he was done he pulled down his trousers. He couldn’t wait as he hurriedly untied them. You knew that there was no going back after this. He held his cock over you. It was thick and veiny with an angry red tip. It had you choking just by the look at it. You held your breath and closed your eyes as he slid it back and forth till he was slick enough with your wetness. 

Slowly he entered and all the air inside your lungs left you. It was a piercing sensation that took over the bottom half of your body. It was so painful, every waking moment made you feel like you were on the verge of passing out. 

“Relax… my maiden relax,” he said. 

Relax? After being taken against your will and being violated in the worst possible way. You wanted to hurt him, a feeling that you’ve never felt before. You wanted to kill him. You couldn’t even move or breathe for that matter. 

What disgusted you the most was his moans as he thrusts slowly, lovingly even. He was so infatuated by your beauty that he didn’t even notice the fact that your face looked so disgusted by the sight of him. 

It finally got easier after what felt like hours of him just thrusting into you. It felt like it was never-ending. If this was what it felt like to be with someone you’re supposed to love you were having none of it. It was like the devil himself made his own personal hell for you. His thrusts, his pants that were all over your face and neck, and his hands constantly touching you. 

You felt like you were about to break apart. And break apart you did. This feeling that was so overwhelming it had your legs wanting to close. Your body was quivering so hard you thought maybe this was it. The small death before absolution. 

Your gasps and pants fell from your lips and continued to come out as the hunter got faster and faster. He wasn’t done. Not yet not when he was so close. He did one final thrust that had him calling out to the gods above. 

Wet and sticky was all you felt when he pulled himself from you. You couldn’t bring yourself to sit up to look at what he did to you. There was no way you could’ve handled it. So you lay there as he pulled on his clothes. He removed your restraints mostly because he knew you wouldn’t get up and run around. There was no way you could’ve not with the aching pain between your legs. 

You hear the hunter pick up something and start to hit your tree. Your willow tree. You ran towards him. You didn’t know where the sudden energy came from but you knew that you needed to stop whatever he was doing. He pushed you down before swinging his axe again. 

“I’m freeing you, my dear maiden.”

One… two… three more strikes and your tree was down. You felt tears form at the base of your eye-line. You hugged the tree, crying into it. Whispering sorrows and pleas for forgiveness. You didn’t do anything to it but you still as though you needed to ask it for forgiveness. You shook as you sobbed into the bark. You wanted nothing more than to disappear. Go to a place where this hunter could never hurt you again. 

You had nowhere to go now. No home to call yours. He gently picked you up as you sobbed. You sobbed in his chest the whole way towards the edge of the forest. He took you. He took something that didn’t belong to him. You felt yourself fading as soon as he stepped one foot out of the forest. You didn’t know what was happening only that you could feel your energy slipping away. 

Peter screamed and fell to his knees when he saw your body practically turn into dust and in your stead of where the powder of your body used to be grew a flower. It was beautiful. One he had never seen before. He touched the flower and his body stayed in that position as if a punishment for taking something from the forest that was never meant to leave. 

His final thought was only of you. 

At least his body would remain close to you.

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

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Hello dear. Can you write about a y/n who likes peter's dark behaviors? (except killing) in which she feels loved by all this protection directed at her. idk she might have NPD

WARNINGS: Soft! dark Peter; Obsession.

AN: It's Tom Holland's Spiderman. I hope you like this :) Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

The minute of thick silence after you discover Peter’s secret box filled with pictures of you, clearly taken when you weren’t aware of him, the extraordinary amount of souvenirs such as lip balms, panties, is enough to scare Peter. 

You don’t utter a word and Peter fears the worst. You’ve discovered his secret and now you’re gonna hate him. You’re going to leave him and tell everyone about the creep your boyfriend is. 

Your face is completely blank and Peter is already getting prepared to get slapped and for you to rush out of the door, screaming and cursing him. But you don’t. Instead, your lips curl into a pleased smirk. Your hand reaches down to grab one of the pictures and you examine it carefully.

“Didn’t know my boyfriend had such amazing photography skills.” 

You’re not mad, you’re actually flattered. Your boyfriend is clearly in love with you, you’re completely perfect in his eyes, he only has eyes for you, he does everything for you. If you ignore the way sometimes he’s overbearing, then he’s perfect for you.

And Peter is beyond happy with you accepting this side of yours. Now, he’ll stop restraining himself from ever leaving your side.

He bashes you in compliments, practically worshiping the ground you step on and you find it so sweet. He’s constantly around you, making sure you have every need fulfilled, just like a boyfriend should. 

Need help with that assignment? Consider it done. You really wanted that new dress? You’ll get it in a blink of the eye. Are you feeling down and insecure? With Peter you’ll never have to feel that way cause he will kiss you and compliment endlessly and you know that he means every word.

That’s how much he loves you. 

And if you ever want someone gone for good, he won't hesitate doing it. Cause it's for you.

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

[gothgirlmahi]

all i ever wanted. chapter 1

Pairing: Dark!Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Your daughter’s Spider-Man fixation catches the eye of your classmate Peter. That’s not the only thing that catches his eye.

Warnings: Implied domestic abuse, stalking, post No Way Home angst

Word Count: 1.5K

Masterlist: Coming Soon

Peter immediately noticed you on the first day of class.

It was a few minutes before the start time when you came through the doors of the lecture hall. Carrying your backpack and a plastic shopping bag. You scanned the surprisingly full room quickly before taking the seat next to him and setting your things down on the floor. You looked a bit harried as you began typing furiously on your phone.

He peeked down at the shopping bag, noticing a few red and blue ribbons peeking out along with part of what looked like a pack of birthday invitations. On the corner of the invitations was an unmistakable figure. A little Spider-Man cartoon.

“Are you a fan of Spider-Man?”

Your head shot up at the question, shocked that anyone was talking to you.

“Huh?”

“Sorry, it’s just, I noticed you have some Spider-Man stuff in your bag. I was wondering if you were a fan?”

You gave him a dazzling smile with a little shrug.

“Oh. It’s for my daughter. She’s a big Spider-Man fan and I’ve been planning her birthday party. Had to get tons of Spider-Man themed stuff. This,” you pointed to the bag and Peter couldn’t help but notice the set of rings on your finger, “is just the tip of the iceberg.”

“No kidding. That’s really cool. You’re a good mom.”

You shrugged.

“Thanks. I try to be. She’s a good kid, she deserves it. So if she wants a Spider-Man party in Central Park, that’s what she’s gonna get. I only have until Saturday to finish getting this all together so I’ve been running around a lot.”

It was an innocuous first meeting. You both introduced yourselves. Peter found out you had a husband and a daughter, though you seemed reluctant to mention much of anything about your husband.

Peter had the same class with you again later that week. It was barely ten in the morning and you walked in looking worse for wear. Deep bags under your eyes and a sullen expression. You sat next to Peter and gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Hey, Peter,” you greeted him. Even your voice sounded tired.

“Hey. You feeling okay?”

“I’ve been better. Didn’t sleep too well. What? Am I ugly?” You asked the last part jokingly. Peter shook his head.

“Never. Sorry to hear you didn’t sleep well. I have something for you.”

“Ooh,” you said in a dramatic tone, “illicit dealings in the back of the lecture hall. My favorite.”

“You’re a goofball,” Peter said. You giggled at that. He reached into his bag and handed you a Spider-Man plushie. You almost squealed in excitement.

“Peter!”

“It’s for your daughter. I was hoping she’d like it.”

“You are the sweetest.” You took the plush and squeezed at it happily. “Samantha is going to love this!”

In that moment, Peter noted a few things. He mentally noted that your daughter’s name was Samantha, he noted the bruise around your wrist, and he noted how your entire demeanor changed to a positive one in a matter of seconds once you started speaking to him.

“Did you hurt your arm?” Peter asked, as you were putting the plush toy in your bag.

“What?”

“Your wrist.”

You looked down at your wrist like you hadn’t noticed it. You rubbed at it self consciously.

“Oh, I just banged it on something. I’m super clumsy.”

Peter wasn’t buying that bullshit. And the look on your face told him that you knew he wasn’t buying it. But you looked desperate to drop it and Peter didn’t want to push you away with prying.

He would be seeing you tomorrow anyway. He could check on things then.

The next day was Saturday.

Peter would never consider himself to be a stalker. He was just…inordinately invested in your life for reasons he couldn’t quite comprehend. He wanted to be apart of it and he wanted to rescue you, if even you didn’t know you needed saving. It didn’t take him long to find where you were setting up. He wasn’t in his Spider-Man suit yet, he just needed to locate you first.

You were there stringing up decorations and setting tables, looking a bit frustrated as you worked. An older woman was helping you, sparing a glare for a man sitting on a park bench and drinking a beer a bit away from you all.

“He should be over here helping. She’s his daughter, too,” the older woman commented. She said it out of earshot of the man, but loud enough for you to hear. Peter obviously had no problem hearing it with his abilities.

“Mom, Nate is just tired. He’s been working all week,” you whispered back to her. Your mother rolled her eyes as you set up a stack of napkins.

“Tired my ass. Like you haven’t been working all week?”

“Can we please not do this right now? People are going to be here in half an hour.“

Half an hour. Peter could work with that.

Peter began the walk back to his apartment and gears were turning in his head.

The asshole on the bench was likely your husband. Sitting back and relaxing while you and your mom did all of the work. The same husband who probably put that bruise on you.

The thought had him shaking with rage.

He slipped into his building, roughly pulling closed the janky front door. He went to his room and pulled his suit out, giving it a once over. His sewing skills weren’t so bad. After everything that happened, he was well and truly on his own. He didn’t like thinking about it much. It hurt to consider everything he had lost in such a short period of time.

But he hadn’t done so bad for himself. Two years at community college before transferring to NYU. Working as a photographer just to pay the bills. He’d hopefully get something much better after graduation, which was really just around the corner. A few months and he’d have that degree.

And with any luck, he’d have you as well.

With a look to his watch, he noticed it was quite a bit past the thirty minute mark. That was probably good as it would give you time to be done setting up and give time for people to arrive. He hadn’t seen you daughter there when he saw you, and hopefully she would be there now.

Peter put the suit on and was quickly out the window. Swinging his way back to the park. When he was noticed, onlookers yelled up at him in awe, others in horror. The public’s views on Spider-Man were a little split.

Once you were in sight, he couldn’t help but smile. There was a little girl in your arms and you were smiling as the two of you looked over a table of gifts. Your mother spotted him first. A look of shock spread over her face before she was frantically tapping your shoulder. Just as you turned around, Peter landed about five feet in front of you.

Your daughter screamed at the top of her lungs and the other children at the party lost it. Your face was fixed into an expression of shock, jaw nearly on the floor. Your daughter wiggled out of your arms and ran to Peter.

“Spider-Man!” The little girl nearly tackled him, launching herself at his legs and holding on tight. From what Peter could see, she probably wasn’t any older than four or five.

“Samantha!” You yelled, ready to pull her off of him but Peter picked her up and turned to you.

“I saw the decorations and thought I’d swing by.” Peter made some effort to disguise his voice, but he was giddy with anticipation. A smile came over your face.

“Oh my god, this is—“

“This is insane. Stay still for a picture, Sam.” Peter looked up to see your husband behind you, pulling out his phone to take a picture.

Spider-Man posed for pictures and talked to your daughter. She was thrilled and happily showed off the Spider-Man decor of her party. He stayed just long enough to sing Happy Birthday. All in all, it went well.

The next week, you walked into class with a content smile on your face. When you sat yourself next to Peter, you were excited to tell him about your weekend.

“—He just swung in. It was so fucking cool. Sam was so excited. It’s all she’s been talking about. I mean, what are the odds, right? I’m sure there’s plenty of kids with Spider-Man parties and he just happened to be around for hers. I can’t imagine the day going any better than it did.”

Peter was happy to see a smile on your face. He was hoping he could provide more of that for you in the future.

The professor began speaking, grabbing everyone’s attention.

“In anticipation for the midterm group assignment, I’ll need you all to pair up in teams of two.”

You looked at Peter with a smile on your face.

“Wanna be my partner?” you whispered. Peter nodded.

“It’s a date.”

#peter parker x reader #dark!peter x reader #spiderman x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #marvel x reader

[lokislastlove]

would you rather obsessive neighbor Peter parker. he always finds a way to finness his way into your apartment. Or Uber driver Bucky. somehow he always ends up picking up your driving request. His car is a super popular car so you arent sure if he is stalking you or it a coincidence

Ok so this kind of inspired a little drabble (seriously how do you do this to me every time?) basically I love creepy neighbors and this is where my mind went…. 😬 🖤🤍🖤🤍

Sticky Situation (Dark!Peter x Reader)

Summary: You develop a crush on a new neighbor.

Notes: no real warnings other than implied kidnapping and dark Peter. It’s a drabble under 2k. 🤍

—

The front door finally gives after a moment of pushing, heavy metal dragging loudly over the permanently scratched frame. Like most people in the city, you look forward to getting home after a long work day. But, for you, the best moment of your day is when you get to check your mail.

Smiling, you walk across the narrow lobby and toward the shining wall of mailboxes. You unlock your box and, like clockwork, the guy from apartment 4E steps up a few feet away before you’ve had the chance to flip through all the junk mail.

It’s been three months since you moved in and not a single work day has passed where he hasn't been there to greet you with a smile and shy “hey”. At first you found it a bit creepy, but he never made a move, or said anything weird, he barely looked at you long enough to make you uncomfortable.

“Please tell me you put this in my box?” He asks pleadingly as he adjusts his glasses.

“Uh,” voice stutters as you read the flyer in his hand, “sadly, no. I am not a member of the building’s doom metal band.”

You fight a smile and he chuckles. Damn, even his laugh is adorable. You flick through your mail one more time, trying to drag out the time before he slams his mailbox closed. You follow quickly, but not too quickly, you don’t want him to think you’re a creep. Stuffing the junk mail into the recycle bin, you hover a couple feet behind him as you wait for the elevator.

He hums along to the song on his single earbud and fidgets with the keys in his hand. Perfectly casual, like he doesn’t even realize you’re there. You take the time to appreciate the view his tight jeans give you, a hint of a shapely firm ass and thighs. He definitely works out.

The elevator dings and you suck in a quick breath as you timidly enter the small space beside him. He smiles at you as he presses your floor and then his floor without prompting. You both have done this so many times it doesn’t need to be said anymore.

“Thanks,” you mutter automatically as you stare at your shoes and hold your purse strap tightly.

“My pleasure,” he returns, smirking when he catches you look up at the way his voice deepens.

The elevator dings and you step out with a nervous, “goodnight,” and small wave.

“See you,” he smiles brushing back his curly locks.

God, why can’t you be cooler? Why can you never think of something funny or interesting to say to keep him talking? Always safer to stay quiet than embarrass yourself, you suppose. You drag your feet to your door, sighing at the prospect of wasting another lonely night of junk food and tv. If only you could be spontaneous for once in your life. 

—

Friday is bittersweet as you celebrate the end of the workweek but also the last day you get to see 4E for two days. You go to your mailbox, smiling in anticipation as you shove in the key and twist. You pull out the measly stack of junk and flip through it slowly as you glance around the lobby for him. He must be late. You move to the trash can at the end of the row, and use up some time cleaning out your purse. Still no sign of him.

You slowly re-read and toss each piece of junk mail until you are left with a single envelope, probably more ads. Disappointment tugs at your shoulders as you sigh at the empty lobby. He’s not coming.

You tear open the envelope, ignoring the hand written address on the front and pull out a single piece of lined notebook paper. You unfold it with a frown and begin to read the hastily written note in black marker.

“Hey 3E! I have to go out of town for a day or two and didn’t want you to think I ditched you on our nightly elevator ride. Truth is I am a coward and couldn’t get the courage to ask you properly on a date. Which makes the fact that I’m asking you for a favor even more embarrassing...The problem is I left my cat, Padme, at home alone. I thought that maybe you could stop in and check on her maybe give her some catnip from the cabinet above the stove to keep her happy. No pressure, though! She’ll survive, she has food and water. But, if you're feeling neighborly, I keep a key taped under the door mat. Thank you so much! I’ll see you soon – Peter (aka 4E).”

You read the note through multiple times in disbelief, laughing again at the post script at the bottom reading, “just please don’t steal my stuff, my cat is very possessive of her things. ;)”

You bite your lip as you think it over, your first thought is instantly, “Aw poor kitty.” You don’t really see a downside, in fact, he’s the one risking the most by trusting a total stranger to enter his home. But the curiosity compels you into the elevator where you promptly press the button for the fourth floor.

You stand outside, staring at the 4E on the door and listening for any indication he might be home… just incase his plans changed. But, there is nothing but silence for several minutes. You nudge the mat with your toe and flip up the top corner, instantly spotting the black duct tape camouflaged across the rubber bottom.

You glance down the hall, nervous to be accused of breaking and entering as you pluck the silver key from under the tape. With a deep breath you unlock the door and poke your head into the dim apartment. Nothing but the stove top light and one standing lamp in the corner to light the entire space.

The floor plan is similar to yours, open kitchen and living space with a bedroom and bathroom down the short hall, though his has a distinctly more bachelor-pad vibe. The dark leather furniture and exposed brick seem to absorb what little light there is and you squint as you look around for the cat.

“Hello?” You call nervously through the still air.

You step inside and close the door, the last thing you need is to go searching for an escaped cat. Seeing his home feels oddly intimate, especially without him there. It makes you fidget, like you’re doing something wrong even though you had, in fact, been invited.

You're pleasantly surprised by the modern decor blended with the nerdy memorabilia. Clearly, he has some style based on cohesive look and his neat placement of his most prized possessions, like the signed replica of Captain America’s shield on the wall, something you would definitely consider stealing.

A soft meow cuts through the silence and your eyes spot the small tabby cat blinking at you from the end of the dark hall.

“Hi, Padme,” you lilt sweetly. “Aren't you a cutie. I didn’t know your dad was such a nerd, but I find that pretty cute too.”

She meows again, clearly unimpressed with you and skitters into the dark back room. You call after her and follow instinctively, listening for her soft mews and the clack of her claws on the wood floor as you get closer.

You reach around the door frame, feeling around for a light switch but find none. “Spspsp, come on Padme. You want some catnip? Come on out baby.”

There is a scuffle and a startled cat cry from within and you panic as you move inside holding your hands out to keep yourself from running into anything.

“Kitty? Here kitty, are you ok?” you worry as you timidly take a couple more steps forward, sweeping your hands out in front of you.

You pull your hand back with a gasp at the feel of something wet and sticky. You pause and slowly put your hand out again, “Padme?”

Your hand runs into a long string like line, and your first thought is a clothes line, but why is it sticky? Ick, maybe it better not to know why. You go to release the line but your hand refuses to open. You bring your other hand up to pull it off of you but you end up trapping both hands to the line.

Panic flairs instantly as you tug against the cord, kicking out in fear as more parts of your body become tangled in the invisible web-like trap. But that’s not possible, or at least... it shouldn’t be.

“Help! Help me!” You scream as your body becomes completely bound in the gluey strands, but no one hears you.

Hours pass and your voice turns scratchy, burning with pain as your body slumps in exhaustion but is held upright by your unyielding bonds. The harder you fight the more secure your restraints become until you are completely paralyzed and hanging dumbly, waiting for someone to find you. 

The morning light rises, and your eyes adjust to the dim light, black out curtains keeping most of the light out even as the peak of the day comes and goes. You have no idea how long you’ve been there crying and pleading to the silence, but as the orange sunset shines through the tight blinds you finally hear the front door open and close. 

“Hello?” You croak, every inch of you aching and stiff as you are forced to listen to the slow steady footsteps.

They seem unhurried, relaxed even, though you know they must have heard you. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest in terror. A light switch flicks on in the hallway, bathing you in a bright light at your back. You watch as a shadow grows along the ground. Its the most you can see as your head is stuck facing the other direction, awkwardly.

“Peter?” You whimper quietly as you feel a heat along your back.

He chuckles against you ear and whispers darkly, “caught ya.”

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @queenoftheworldisdead @threeminutesoflife @emberenchanted @buttercupfangirl @needleandhammer @lokiswildheartcantbebroken @thiskindahotkindamusic @caffiend-queen

#dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #dark fic #MCU #Drabble #creepy neighbor

[cherienymphe]

Suburbia (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: eventual NON-CON, eventual DUB-CON, eventual somnophilia, breeding kink, eventual stalking, eventual violence, eventual voyeurism, eventual blackmail, age gap, babysitter!Peter, mommy!reader

➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts | divider by @silkholland ​​

➥ series masterlist

summary: Within the utopia of a northeastern suburban town, unconventional mothers aren’t treated with the most welcoming of gestures. However, contrary to what you’d believed, you actually can’t do it all, and as if you weren’t treated like a pariah enough, you heed Nat’s suggestion to take on a male nanny.

~

The smile on your face was somewhat forced as you stepped out of the car. Despite it only being August, the air around you was already starting to cool with the promise of an early autumn. You were one of the first parents to arrive, your smile becoming a bit more genuine as Jane let you inside the daycare.

“How were they?”

She gave a light laugh, hand on her chest as she led you to them. You waved at the other children as you passed them, a familiar redhead’s smile especially wide.

“Angels like always,” she replied. “I swear, it’s like you won the mommy jackpot. I never have any trouble out of them.”

“Well, they’re young now. We’ll see how that pans out when they’re 2,” you said, waving off her compliment.

The twins were fast asleep in their car seats, and you took each one with each hand. You glanced at Jane, and you could tell by the look on her face that she had something else to say. Her hands clasped before her made you a tad nervous.

“I will be sending out emails tonight as well, but I’m letting parents know that my cost will be increasing within the next few months,” she told you, almost sheepishly.

You blinked, brows raising a bit as you processed her words. Well off or not, Jane’s daycare prices and fees were already steep. You suspected that with little competition nearby, and the tax brackets that surrounded her, she felt she was well within her rights to charge whatever she wanted to. However, Jane was nice and didn’t strike you as the type, and you knew more than anyone what went into caring for children.

“I see…”

“I know that it’s already a bit much, but… More parents are moving to town every week, and there are more mouths to feed, and more children to look after. I’m looking into acquiring more help, and they will need decent salaries too,” she explained.

“No, no, I completely understand. Children are expensive,” you murmured, knowing that more than anyone.

“I wanted to tell you first and upfront because with your situation…”

She trailed off, but you didn’t need her to finish nor did she feel the need to. Your situation was a bit different from literally every other mom in this town, and you swallowed down any annoyance you felt. It wasn’t aimed at Jane, she’d been nothing but nice to you since you’d moved here, but instead at your situation. Or more so the feelings and reactions you were met with at your situation. You gave her an understanding nod, and with a promise of no hard feelings, you left.

You were gentle in strapping them in properly once you made it to your car. They didn’t stir once, and you thought about Jane’s words. You supposed that you had hit the mommy jackpot indeed. Even your pregnancy and subsequent birth had been relatively smooth sailing. The only thing you had to show for it were some stretch marks and 2 healthy baby girls.

As you made yourself comfortable, you took notice of a familiar car pulling into the parking lot. With a grimace, you started your own. The blonde hair was unmistakable, and you pretended not to notice her as you drove off. You were already preparing yourself to have that brought up once you inevitably ran into Sharon again.

The other moms of this town never failed to raise your blood pressure, and you knew that you rose theirs the same. Your only friend came in the form of a voluptuous redhead who looked more like a model than a mom. Outcasts had to stick together, you supposed. Nat had made that joke once, and as much as it stung, it was true.

Natasha was married, but beautiful, and her relationship status did nothing to quell the envious and suspicious stares of the other mothers who wore the toll of their children on their sleeves. That ring on her finger and the happy smile that Dr. Banner wore were the only things that kept the other moms somewhat friendly with her. You, on the other hand, had no such luck…

“You’re single. You’re a threat,” she’d said in your kitchen one day with a shrug, nursing a small glass of white wine.

“Single by choice,” you had replied, and she’d laughed.

“That just makes it worse!”

Your hands tightened on the wheel, and you swallowed down your irritation. You weren’t divorced, had never even been married. In fact, you hadn’t had a serious boyfriend in years. Answering those questions had turned into torture at this point, and while you had expected it when you moved into town, what you hadn’t expected was the hostility. The shock. The confusion.

You recalled Sharon’s face the first time you’d met her. The way she had tilted her head, pink lips pulled into a smile that somehow conveyed judgement and concern and cynicism all at once. Her perfect blonde hair was curled to perfection around her face as she let out a light chuckle.

“I don’t understand…”

It wasn’t the first nor the last time you’d be confronted with such a comment.

You’d always wanted to be a mother. You loved children and had always wanted some of your own one day. However, not once had you ever imagined anyone else in the picture. You had never been able to relate to other girls who raved about their dream husband and the perfect wedding day. None of that had ever appealed to you, and as the years went on, unconventional mothers were something that became more and more common.

You did not dream about weddings and husbands and the nuclear family.

You dreamed about single motherhood.

Artificial insemination was a term that was like something out of a horror film around here. Even worse when it was used in reference to a single woman. It was 2022, and somehow, the idea that a woman could desire motherhood without a partner present was ghastly. It was pure insanity.

You had a career that could rival Pepper Potts-Stark. You had a home that even Margaret Rogers approved of. You didn’t think you were anything like Nat, but you certainly didn’t elicit screams of fright when you walked down the street, and yet, none of that was as great of an offense as choosing to be a single mother.

You represented things the other mothers both feared and didn’t quite understand.

You genuinely wanted children and enjoyed motherhood. You had never viewed it as some necessary evil or a step on the plan to secure a match and perfect life. It was not something you felt you had to do but instead something you wanted to do. And like Natasha had said, your voluntary single status just soured the situation. An attractive single mom moving to a town chock full of families with no ulterior motives? You weren’t trusted from the moment you stepped out of your car, belly swollen and face glowing.

You knew what they were thinking.

Your genuine love for motherhood was evident, and you did it all by yourself and you did it well. You made them look bad. You made them look inferior, and as Nat so eloquently put it, you were an insecure housewife’s nightmare. They would never believe that you loved your life the way it was, and that the last thing you wanted was a husband, let alone someone else’s, but you’d stopped trying to make them a long time ago.

“It’s just so unfair!”

Nat threw you a sympathetic look, her daughter coloring beside her at the table. Their identical red hair shifted from the breeze, and one of your twins cooed from her place on the bench beside you. The other was asleep. You looked over the balcony of the small restaurant, grateful that it was a bit too chilly outside for anyone else to consider eating out here at the moment. A couple below laughed as they walked by.

“I chose this life, and I’m far from unhappy with it, but God! It just seems like I’m being punished for being a single mother…”

She hummed while you shook your head.

“It’s certainly not Jane’s fault, but… It’s just me. Even the divorced moms in this town get child support or some kind of financial help from their ex-husbands. The only income I have is my own, and while I’m not hurting for it, I would like for them to go to college,” you said with a roll of your eyes.

“Look into getting a babysitter,” she said with a shrug.

“You say that so casually…”

“Well, yeah,” she said with a small laugh. “They are a thing, you know.”

You nodded, a mocking smile on your face.

“I’m sure Sharon would love that. Nothing would make her happier than to think the great and mighty bane of her existence actually does need help. I can hear the gossip now. Her telling all of her friends that I wouldn’t need one if I had a husband,” you said with a scoff, taking a sip of your water.

“Fuck them.”

“Mommy,” the four-year-old softly chided, and you bit back a laugh.

She placed her hands over her daughter’s ears before repeating herself, and now you did laugh.

“She already heard you!”

“My point still stands! Who cares what Sharon thinks? What does she know, anyway? Her and Sam and everyone else in this town got married straight out of high school, and are desperately trying to convince themselves they actually love their kids instead of seeing them as the bargaining chips that are keeping their marriages together,” she elaborated, and you sighed.

“That’s a little harsh, even for you,” you commented.

“Well, it’s true. She’s so threatened by you that if she could, she’d run you out of town with a pitchfork. Why should you give a…crap about what she thinks?”

You mulled over her suggestion. Somehow, the idea of a nanny had never even crossed your mind.

“We all love Jane, but she won’t be put out by losing one customer. Like she said, families are moving here every week. She’ll be fine. You and your lovely girls won’t be if you don’t find a less expensive option,” she continued, briefly turning to wipe the ice cream off of her daughter’s face.

“Is there even a babysitting service in this town? I figured all of the other moms would be much too paranoid about hiring some freshly 18-year-old girl to hang around their houses,” you teased.

Nat laughed at that.

“There’s an unofficial group on Facebook. Some are just kids, some closer to our age, and some that would probably be friends with my grandma,” she answered. “They’re all CPR certified with raving reviews though.”

“I don’t know…”

Nat frowned at you, and you continued.

“It was hard enough when I started taking them to daycare, and I knew all there was to know about Jane. It’s always been just us, and I don’t know about having some stranger in my house and around my children,” you murmured.

Nat’s gaze softened, green eyes understanding as she reached for your hand.

“They are only about 1. Sometimes I forget that not only are you a first-time mom, but also a new one. Look…”

Your gaze met hers again.

“Just think on it. Check it out, do your research, and decide on what makes you feel comfortable.”

You knew that Nat was making some points, and as nervous as the idea of a stranger in your house made you, the thought of going broke made you even more so. Besides, it’s not like there wouldn’t be some screening process or a way to feel each candidate out. The hours would be more flexible, leaving more time for work or the kids, whichever one required immediate attention, and in truth, it might make your life easier.

You wouldn’t have to constantly pick them up or drop them off. They could thrive in a familiar and comfortable environment, something you preferred. The longer you sat there thinking on it, the more the idea appealed to you, and before you knew it, you were pulling out your phone and downloading Facebook.

“Any luck?”

“None,” you sighed over the phone, standing in the doorway of the twins’ room. “It’s been days, and I’ve gone through all of the candidates who expressed interest, and there wasn’t a single one I’d feel comfortable with having around my children.”

“Not one?”

“Nope! Let’s see…”

You made your way into the hall.

“The first came off entirely too irresponsible, and I suspect that her raving reviews came from more than just motherly satisfaction if you get what I mean…”

Nat laughed.

“There was another who, bless her heart, I’m sure is showing signs of dementia. The only one who I would’ve somewhat considered is just too young and too new. It sucks because I could tell she meant well and really wants the job, but I can’t let my children be her guinea pigs, you know? If only she had a little more experience.”

You heard Nat sigh, and you could hear Katya in the background as she spoke.

“Try another platform. Maybe even a different town altogether? You do plan to have them live in the guest house, right?”

You hummed an affirmative.

“Well, there you go! Branch out. Someone will jump at the chance for free housing in exchange for watching 2 well behaved babies and a decent pay,” she assured you.

You were heading towards the kitchen, a reply on your lips, when your doorbell rang. Your frowned in confusion, looking over your shoulder at the front door. On the other side of the glass stood a young man who you’d never seen before in your life, and your confusion grew.

“Uh… Nat, I’ll call you back.”

Her parting was barely registered as you hung up the phone. There wasn’t anyone else to interview, and this unexpected visit from some strange man left you on edge. His eyes met yours through the glass as you neared the door, and he seemed friendly enough. However, looks could be deceiving, and without opening the door, you asked him what he wanted.

His pink lips curved into a soft smile as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out his phone, your Facebook post pulled up and staring back at you. You blinked, quickly processing what this meant before finally opening your door.

“Hi,” he softly said, boyish smile on display.

“…hello,” you eventually replied, eyeing him.

“I only just saw the ad today. I don’t have Facebook, and it only came up because Mr. Stark mentioned it in passing,” he told you.

You wracked your brain before finally relaxing some, folding your arms over your chest.

“You know Tony?”

His smile grew, and he also seemed to relax as some of your hostility left you.

“I interned with him last year.”

Something went off in your memory, and you tilted your head.

“You’re Peter,” you guessed, and you watched the way his face flushed.

“You’ve heard of me,” he surmised.

“Briefly,” you confirmed with a nod. “He’s mentioned you once or twice, nothing but glowing praise every single time.”

“Hopefully that sways things in my favor a bit,” he commented.

His tone was teasing, and you couldn’t fight back your smile.

“We’ll see. Come in,” you told him, moving out of the way.

He took in your house as he stepped inside, and you did the same to him as you closed the door.

Peter was younger than you, that much was obvious even if you hadn’t known of him. Despite knowing that he was at least a college graduate, the boy could’ve passed for a freshman if he tried. His hair was lengthy, not in an unkempt way, but with soft curls that framed his face well. The glasses that sat on his face made him look more distinguished, less boyish, evening out his overall appearance. Especially with the sweater he sported.

“Would you like something to drink?” you asked him as he sat down.

“No but thank you.”

You nodded, sitting across from him, taking him in as he did the same.

“So, Tony…”

“Uh, yeah. He’s still like a mentor for me, so we’re around each other a lot. He just mentioned something about one of his wife’s friends looking for a nanny,” he explained.

You didn’t have the energy to tell him that you and Pepper weren’t friends. She was more so Nat’s friend than yours, and you certainly liked her more than the other wives in town, but that was about it. You weren’t going to get into semantics, so you just nodded.

“I sent my references and resume over already. I used to babysit a little in high school, and I love kids.”

“Do you? I feel like that’s rare to find in guys your age,” you commented, and Peter laughed.

“Maybe, maybe not, but I do. I can’t wait to have some of my own one day,” he replied, and you hummed.

“…and that’s enough to make you want to watch someone else’s?”

You hoped that you weren’t coming off as cold or bitchy, but you didn’t want just anyone around your children. Plus, while male nannies were definitely more common in this age, the traumatized child in you held a certain extra wariness over the idea of a man alone with them.

“I’ve been going full speed ahead for as long as I can remember. The best grades, every extracurricular that would benefit me, internships. I’m not what you would call burnt out, but I do want to pause and take a breather before I get there, and this has my genuine interest while I do that,” he answered.

You nodded.

“I see. I’m sorry if I seem a bit…out of it? I just wasn’t expecting you,” you apologized.

Peter adjusted his glasses, sitting up on the couch.

“That’s perfectly understandable! I should have called or contacted you sooner, but it was an impulsive decision. I kind of psyched myself out of it at first, telling myself that the chances of you hiring me as a babysitter were slim to none.”

You felt guilt eat away at you, recalling that you were just thinking something along those lines. Peter seemed sweet, and he had experience and references. Not just any references, but the support from people you personally knew. As it stood, he was your best option, and should his credentials hold up to the rest of him…

“It’s 2022, Peter. With my own situation, it would be kind of…silly to write you off just because of your gender,” you assured him.

You stood, and he followed your lead.

“I’ll look over everything you’ve sent me, and if I’m happy with it, then I’ll give you a call,” you told him, walking him to the door.

If Peter was surprised by how short his “interview” was, he didn’t show it. He was the last person you were expecting to show up on your doorstep, and to say that you were shocked and overwhelmed was an understatement. He turned to you when he crossed the threshold, a soft smile on his lips as he gazed at you with a sincerity that stumped you.

“Have good night, Ms. Y/L/N.”

It took you an embarrassingly long time to reply, wishing him a good night as well. You watched him drive off, exhaling just in time for one of the twins to start crying. You knew that her sister wouldn’t be far behind.

“A male nanny? Seriously?”

You sighed, leaning against your car. You had both just picked your kids up from daycare, and the twins were strapped into the cool car as you talked to Nat.

“I was surprised too. Even more surprised to realize that he is my best option,” you slowly admitted.

“Really…”

You nodded, lips pressed together.

“Yeah, those were exactly my sentiments as I poured over everything he sent me. I mean, Nat, he is exactly what I’m looking for,” you told her. “The experience, the references, and as annoying as Tony can be, I do respect the man, and he’s had nothing but great things to say about Peter every time he’s mentioned him.”

She hummed at that.

“I even called him this morning, and let him tell it, Peter is not only a model employee, but practically one of Cinderella’s little helpers who rescues kids from burning buildings and saves cats from trees,” you chuckled.

“So, in a nutshell, you’d be an idiot not to hire him,” Nat deadpanned.

“Basically, yeah.”

“So what’s the problem?” she wondered, studying you.

You heaved a sigh, briefly glancing into the backseat, eyes meeting your daughter’s as she chewed at her sleeve. The other had her eyes trained on the roof of the car.

“It’s stupid, but I already get talked about enough in this town. I know I put up a good front, but sometimes it does get to me, Nat…”

You trailed off, your voice breaking, and she placed her arm around you.

“Hey…”

“I mean, I haven’t done anything wrong. Not once, and they all look at me like the enemy who’s plotting to wreck their homes and sew discord in their marriages or something.”

The more you talked, the angrier you felt yourself getting.

“I worked hard to be able to achieve what I wanted by myself, and I came here thinking it’d be good for them, and what am I supposed to say when they reach a certain age, and they only have 2 friends because Sharon doesn’t want anything to do with us? Or Sif swears she saw me making eyes at her husband?”

“Don’t be silly. I’m having at least 2 more so they’ll have 3 friends,” Nat teased.

Her attempt to make you feel better worked, and she laughed with you.

“In all seriousness, you’re the best mother I know. You give those girls the world, and you always do what’s best for them, and I think that hiring Peter is what’s best for them,” she continued.

“You do…?” you reluctantly asked, meeting her eyes.

“Yes,” she said with conviction. “…and the moment you start managing your household because of what someone else thinks, you turn into one of them…and then we simply can’t be friends anymore.”

You wiped your face with a smile, Nat’s reassuring as she pulled you into a hug.

“They’re all miserable and insecure and thrown because you are nothing like them. They don’t have a box to put you in, so they just force you into one that suits them,” she told you as she pulled away. “Now, go home and call him, and let me know how it goes.”

You nodded, exchanging one last goodbye before parting. One of your girls were asleep when you made it home, the other staring at you as you sat them down. You stared at one another for a while before you sighed.

“We’re already kind of an odd family, aren’t we?”

Naturally, she didn’t respond, big eyes shining as she looked up at you. You took out your phone and chuckled.

“…might as well make it odder, right?”

You dialed his number, taking the first step in doing the last thing you ever expected.

~

tags: @mcudarklibrary​   @xoxabs88xox​ @harryspet​ @readermia​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @buckybarnesplumwhore​ @nickyl316h​ @captainchrisstan​ @sebabestianstan101​ @villanellevi​ @lokislastlove​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @coconutqueen21​ @hurricanerin​ @trinittyy​ @hyoyeoniie​ @mandiiblanche​ @gotnofucks​ @oneoftheprettynerds​ @doozywoozy​ @melli0112​   @zombiexbody​ @holl2712​ @mansaaay​ @biiskuitx​  @jevans2​ @marlenetough​​  @darkparkers​ @frisky975​​ @deluxeplanteater​​ @sgt-seabass​​ @asonofpeter​  @siriusjohnpotter​ @wanna-b-avenger​ @marlenetough​ @supremethunda​​ @harryhollandsgirlfriend​​ @tomholland85​​ @jemimah-b99​​  @nocturnalms​​ @non-binary-nightmare​​ @silkholland​​ @avengers-goddess​​ @frozenhuntress67​​ @aquariusbarnes​​ @ashpeace888​​ @abm111815​​ @shirukitsune​​ @lipstickstainedred​​ @a-secretblogger​​  @withyoutilltheendofthismess​​ @annejackson10-blog​​ @beckamongstthestars​​ @simplyparker​​ @saintnourah​​ @skylar-ish-meh​​  @thisworldwecallsleep​​   @imdoingathingmom​​ @pearlkitten33​​  @bookfrog242​​ @emberenchanted​​ @thanatosfic​​ @edgycatx​​

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

[princessbellecerise]

Picture Perfect, Prologue

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | Your sister Natasha is in trouble. You know it in your gut, and even moreso — you know it’s because of her so called ‘family’ the Avengers. With the rest of the world blinded by their charm, it’s up to you to save your sister and yourself — before it becomes too late.

warnings | dark!peter parker, dark!avengers, non-con, kidnapping, dubcon, violence, loss of virginity (m. and f), manipulation, overall mature themes, stalking, delusional!peter, 18+ ONLY

next | series masterlist | main masterlist

this series is eighteen plus only. minors please do not enter

You were ten when Natasha had joined the Avengers.

A bright eyed and bubbly elementary student, it was no wonder you were so excited at first. After all, for any kid the mere thought of meeting a superhero was enough to have them racing them around the block in excitement. But to have one in your own family?

Man.

Looking back, you always seemed to smile when you reminisced on that time — a time where meeting the Avengers, bragging to your friends that your sister was one and being the coolest kid in your school was the only thing that mattered.

A time where you were young and your sister was quite literally the most important person in your life (besides your parents, of course). A time where you and Natasha were thick as theives, where she’d come home often to visit you or even convince Tony to let you come to the tower to let you hang out with her for weeks at a time.

A time where all seemed picture perfect.

A time that didn’t exist anymore.

As the years went on, Natasha stayed with the Avengers and became increasingly more popular and involved in her work, but somehow it seemed like all the rest had faded away. Slowly the weeks that you visited her became days, the days that she visited home became mere hours, and eventually, by the time you got to high school, things had turned for the opposite. Instead of seeing her for weeks, it would be weeks since you had seen her.

Of course, that’s not to say you were alarmed at first. After all, you were still just a kid and besides, you were growing up, so you were beginning to understand just how busy your sister was. Not to mention that you yourself had taken on new responsibilities.

You were in high school, an extremely important time in a kid’s life, especially if they wanted to go MIT like you did. You had clubs and fundraisers and extra credit activities you had to attend to.

So, as much as you missed your sister, you understood that her being an Avenger was something more than just bragging rights for you. The older you got, the more serious you took her work, which was why you never bothered her much when it came to seeing you.

But oh, how you wish you had.

Like you said though, you were only in high school, so how could you have known?

You couldn’t have. No one could have, and you yourself never saw anything wrong with seeing your sister less and less over the years until one day, the sudden realization smacked you in your face.

The day everything started to fall downhill.

You still remembered that day in grave detail.

The day — which was supposed to be one of the happiest days of your life — that something started to click for you, even if you didn’t know what it was yet. The day that the uneasy feeling in your stomach first appeared, and never left you afterwards.

The day you really and truly began to realize that something was wrong with you sister.

It had been a day already unlike any others, for it was the day you graduated high school at the age of sixteen and you couldn’t have started it off being any happier.

Your parents were so proud of you — many tears being spilt that day as you walked across the stage and got your diploma. The youngest one of all the graduating classes, and valedictorian at that.

You felt like you were on top of the world that day and it only got better when finally saw your sister in person for the first time months.

She hadn’t been present for the actual ceremony, but she had popped in afterwards to give you a quick hug and kiss before she had to be off on another mission.

You didn’t care that she was late or not even staying for five minutes. You were just happy to see her there…until you noticed that she hadn’t come alone.

You weren’t sure when you first noticed him, because Natasha surely didn’t make any moves to introduce you, or to even point out that he was there. But somewhere along the lines, you seemed to notice one James Buchanan Barnes lurking in the background.

A ghost almost, blending in with the crowd, a baseball cap covering his head and his eyes staring straight at Natasha and only Natasha.

To anyone else, it would have been hard to see him there, and even if they did notice him they would’ve thought he was simply minding his business, waiting for his turn to approach a family member. Hardly anyone would’ve recognized the Winter Soldier due to his cut hair, clean face, and no longer haunted eyes.

And you have a feeling that nobody should have recognized him, but you did.

You saw him the minute Natasha had ran up to you, only mere seconds after she pulled you in a hug. And at first, you were glad to have your sister there, even if it was only for a few brief moment. But all that had faded away the minute your eyes looked up and saw him standing there. A shadow barely moving, barely existing among the rest of the world.

You weren’t even sure if he noticed you staring at him, but it didn’t matter. Because you had noticed him, and that was enough.

That one little moment was enough to unnerve you to the point where you had stumbled when Natasha wrapped her arms around you. It was enough for you to completely miss her saying ‘congratulations,’ because you were too busy staring at the man who seemed to want to be a ghost.

You were too busy staring, wondering why he was even there, why he needed to be there, and why he was being so odd as to not even approach your family.

You wouldn’t have thought anything of it had he simply came over and offered his congratulations or something. The encounter wouldn’t have ran through your mind, questions wouldn’t have arisen in you if only he had just been…normal?

Had he done anything other than what he did, it wouldn’t have tipped your senses off as much.

But he just…stared. Never moving, always watching.

And be that as it may, you were Natasha’s sister, and even though you weren’t nearly as bad-ass she was, you still liked to think you picked up on some of her traits.

You were intuitive enough, and you trusted your gut enough to know that the way Bucky was lingering behind her wasn’t normal, nor was it something that you should’ve just brushed off. Something inside of you went off, and you found yourself staring at Bucky way longer than was necessary.

But you couldn’t help it.

You couldn’t help but to think that something was wrong from that day forward, questions in you arising like they had never done before.

It had been all but five minutes before Natasha rushed off, but during those five minutes you were both grateful your sister was there, and extremely on edge about the man behind her.

After your final goodbyes, the crowd seemed to swallow them but somehow you kept clear vision on the two as Natasha rushed back to him.

While you were pretended to listen to your parent’s dinner suggestions for the night, you were really watching the two, watching how Nat’s body went from relaxed to stoic as soon as she began to approach Bucky, and watching how Bucky wrapped his arms around her in a way that left you reeling back.

You watched as Natasha’s big smile became a frown, and eyed Bucky’s anything but friendly — almost possessive — hold.

And then you watched him drag your sister through the crowd, yanking her so hard that Natasha actually stumbled.

Natasha never stumbled. She was never anything other than graceful. She was raised that way; literally trained to be graceful. You knew that it had to take a lot of force to make her trip over her own feet—which was exactly what Bucky had done.

You had no doubt that he had left bruises on your sister, and you wanted to say something, you really did. In fact you wanted to run after them and yank that asshole away from your sister, but they had disappeared into the crowd before you could even blink and that was last time you saw saw. Three years ago.

Ever since that day, Natasha had not come to visit once, nor had you been able to visit her, despite how much you asked, and it seemed that something flipped.

It seemed that after that day, things were never quite the same. You were more alert, trusting your instincts that something…wasn’t right.

Perhaps it was those same instincts that had you craning your neck every time your sister appeared on TV, that had you straining your ears every time you talked, searching for any sign of things being off.

Something that would corroborate the feeling in your gut, something that would prove you weren’t just being crazy and paranoid every time you got sick watching Natasha interact with those people in press conferences, or when they were being presented with some new award.

Something that told you weren’t crazy to question the way Bucky often looked at her. Or even the way Steve Rogers looked at Peggy Carter — a fellow soldier that came out of the ice with him.

And since he was the one that was mainly in the news, you even took a closer look at Tony Stark, analyzing his every move with Pepper Potts and seeing that well…something was off there too.

You would have even looked into Jane and Thor just to corroborate your feelings, but no one had seen them on earth for quite some time.

It left an even worse feeling in your gut when you realized it may not be just Nat being…watched.

Whatever it was, the way these men seemed to interact with your sister and the women around them was just…weird. You often shared your concerns with your parents, but while they missed Natasha, they had also dismissed you completely, infatuated with the Avengers as much as the rest of the world seemed to be.

As much as you used to be, before that day, before it seemed like fate was pulling you towards something you couldn’t quite figure out.

You knew it was ridiculous, but as the years went on, and even now, you still couldn’t quite hold back the suspicion that something with your sister was off.

You couldn’t and wouldn’t push away the feeling of dread every time she called you, looking more and more exhausted by the day.

Your parents thought you were crazy. Your friends, even though they were less dismissive about it, often told you that you just worried too much.

Both Ned and MJ said it was normal to worry for your sister, even more so when she was an Avenger. They understood, but you tried to protest that it wasn’t that. You didn’t have a bad feeling about Natasha doing her job, you just had a bad feeling about everyone else around her.

You had a bad feeling about Bucky and Steve and Tony, and any of the other male Avengers the more you studied their behavior. You had a bad, sinking feeling that all the smiles, all the pictures, and all the reassurances that the Avengers were just one big, happy family, were fake.

Natasha had a family.

She had you, and if that was truly how she felt about her long-term coworkers, people she had put her life on the line with and entrusted her life with multiple times, then why had you never seen her interact with them the way that she did with you?

When any of the Avengers did leave the tower, they were mainly photographed running errands, and you never once saw Nat smiling, never saw her laughing, and you never once saw anything that indicated your sister was the person she used to be.

But the one thing you always, always saw, was that same shadow lurking behind her. In every single photo, James Buchanan Barnes was right behind her, and every time you saw it, it unnerved you just as much as the day you first saw him.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #dark!peter x reader #dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman #dark!avengers #avengers x reader

[youandtom2]

An Avenger's Revenge (dark!Peter Parker)

PROLOGUE // SERIES MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Spider-Man was just one of the mighty, powerful Gods that rule the Earth. A night of death, betrayal, war and defeat turns him into a myth, a memory to be forgotten about by the other Greedy Gods that share this planet. Without his generosity, the world takes a turn for the worse and the people are desperate for a solution. With a rebellion on the horizon, it may be your only chance to rise up against the Greedy Gods and restore Spider-Man's legacy.

Themes: dystopian, futuristic, smut, angst, death!, dark concepts**, a tad bit fluff :) **T/W: will be specified per chapter - none in this one

a/n: ahhhhh here she is! my precious! hope you like :)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

There was two reasons why the deities came to Earth centuries ago. It would be hard to believe that there would be a reason at all, but alas, at the naivety of the human race, there were two. The first reason, and the most important one of them all, was the sheer abundance of untouched infinity stones buried deep beneath the surface; a currency that the deities yearn for. Rare and precious, infinity stones are a source of power to those who are strong enough to yield it and in a place where such strength doesn’t exist, not many deities considered Earth to be rich with natural, authentic infinity stones. It was mistakenly overlooked for years. However, on the night of a full moon centuries ago, a God stumbled upon the small planet and with such a find, word broke loose. All of a sudden, they all came swarming until Earth was held hostage, under the deities’ command with humans forced to feed their greed…which explains reason number two. The second pertains to the humans’ ignorance of the true value and use of the infinity stones because after all, what human could stand a chance in a race amongst the gods? Submissive and overpowered, the humans have been subjected to the deities' biddings, getting weaker and weaker while they grow stronger and richer. Reduced to nothing but servants, soldiers, miners and maids, it was a giant step backwards in societal evolution. 

Centuries on, people living now can’t imagine a world without the deities’ rule. They call themselves the Avengers now. A poor choice in name you always thought but the reasoning derives from their promise to protect the Earth if anything, or anyone, were to attack Earth to steal their precious infinity stones. A false pretence to hide their greediness, the very greediness that demanded statues of them to be erected, eight columned temples built in their honour and at least one day every year to celebrate the anniversary of their arrival. It’s all very grand and ceremonious, but their opulence doesn’t stop there, oh no. Of course, a God is only deserving of a palace to live in, built by the subjects that serve them. They emanate such holiness that many claim that to look at the very spectacle can be overwhelming, that the impenetrable black iron gates stand to symbolise their power and it’s for that reason alone that deities remain absolute in their reign.

You work for one directly. The first God to step foot on Earth and the leader to all deities who arrived thereafter, Iron Man. Staff know him better as Tony Stark. 

With the early morning sun casting an orange glow on the iron palace, you exit your bed chamber, climb the same 3 flights of stairs you see every morning and wander through the white and golden halls with your heels clicking against the marble flooring, dressed in your maids uniform. Reaching the main floor, you meet Ginny, another maid. 

“How is he this morning?” You ask, walking alongside her as you both start the long journey to the dining hall.

“He’s quickly deteriorating. His doctor said it could be any day now. I wonder how it happens.” 

“How ‘what’ happens?” 

“The death of an Avenger. No one has ever seen how an Avenger dies. They’ve been here for centuries and none of them have ever popped their clogs.” 

You snicker loudly, your smile quickly fading as you near the footmen standing by the door. Once out of sight, you whisper back to her. “‘Popped their clogs’, you make it sound like they die like any other human does.” 

“Well I don’t know, maybe they do. I can’t imagine death is any more dignified for deities than it is for human’s.”

“Whatever, I don’t really care how it happens, we know now that it’s inevitable at this point. What I’m more concerned about is what happens after he dies, you know? We have seven other Avengers in this world, all just as greedy as each other and you know Tony was top dog, his death is going to mean a breach of peace.” 

This has been a concern of yours since you first heard of Tony’s ailment. Questions fill your mind one by one and the more time ticks on towards Tony’s death, the more they are beginning to scare you. Your entire life’s purpose has evolved around your servitude to Tony Stark, Iron Man, the first deity to claim this planet, so without him, what good is a maid without her master? 

Ginny shares her empathy as she too faces the same predicament and responds with a sigh. Grown together, you would hate to be separated and given a hand that isn’t as lucky as your first. You’ve played a major role in each other's past but with your future yet to be decided, you fear she may become somebody that you used to know. 

Just as you are about to enter the dining hall to take to your stations, she grabs your hand and pulls you quietly into the corner.

“Look, you didn’t hear this from me okay? I overheard Matron mention something about Tony giving a public announcement later today. I think he’s going to pass us and the entire faction onto another Avenger.”

“What?!” 

“Shhh! I don’t know for certain, but I think he suspects what we do as well. He knows that he has the biggest faction - he wouldn’t leave it leaderless and he knows the rest will all fight for it, so if he gives it all away, there’s nothing to fight for.” 

“Who do you think it would be?” 

“I’m not sure. We border Captain America’s faction but after the rival they had decades ago, I doubt he’ll be so willing to give it to him, and I just hope it’s not Doctor Strange. My cousin, Megara, works in his faction and I heard he’s incredibly overbearing and strict. Or…it could be someone completely new.” 

“Well, whoever it is, I just hope they can treat us at least half as good as Tony has.” 

Ginny sighs and purses her lips while a touch of sadness glosses over her eyes, evidently not finding faith in your optimism. “I know. I’m going to miss the old bastard.” 

“Yeah, me too. Come on. We better go.” 

Being the latest generation of a long line of maids, you’re lucky to have been given the opportunity to work directly for the leader of the Avengers, and he is - surprisingly - the most lenient of them all. You guess there was something about the guilt of enslaving a native species centuries ago that plagued him and over the decades he outgrew his reputation of being cynical, power-hungry and arrogant, and became the reverent leader that the other deities had no other option but to respect. Within any field of executive power, there is ranking and despite how omnipotent and divine these deities seem to be in their own right, they too abide by a hierarchy. Otherwise it would all-out war between the Greedy Gods. There are exactly eight of them residing on Earth each living within their own faction of the world which have been offered to them by Tony on one condition - ‘take what you are given and no fighting’ were his exact words, the very same inscripted onto the Avengers’ oath displayed on every Avenger temple. It’s the only rule the deity’s live by. 

Despite being your master, Tony is the closest thing to a father figure in the sense that he provides and protects. Your biological father was sent away to the mines as part of the mandatory three-year conscription, but even after his conscription was completed, he chose to stay knowing that you and your mother were being cared for and he was happy with employment. 

Conscription varies from faction to faction, for example, Tony has the largest faction with the largest population, so what Tony’s men dig in a year, Black Widow’s smaller faction may have to dig for 2 years to match. Another difference is the attitude. Here, it’s common for men to enrol voluntarily after conscription because Tony’s conditions are the most favourable in the world. He offers breaks and benefits, extra perks like insured healthcare and a pension, whereas Doctor Strange’s conditions, for example, are foul, laborious and completely inhumane but necessary if he wants to remain a competitor in the deity race. In simpler words, if you’re going to work for someone, you want it to be Tony. Not that you have a choice in the matter…

Just as you take your stations, Tony is wheeled into the dining room. It breaks your heart to see him so frail, an almost comatose body rolling up towards the table where a small bowlful of fruit, muesli and bread sit waiting for him. He doesn’t even get dressed out of his robe that hangs daintily from his shoulders, his glowing blue metallic heart on display; the thing that has been keeping him alive all this time. Its shine isn’t as bright as you remember it and its colour has been losing its vibrancy over the last few weeks, dulling to the same grey that stains his skin. His salt and pepper hair has faded into a soft white in patches but for a deity at this stage in life, vanity is the last thing he cares for. 

“Morning, sir,” you and Ginny both greet. Tony passes you both a weak smile, not quite reaching his eyes. You both begin dishing out his breakfast, pouring his drink and brewing his coffee.

“Do me a favour girls, will you?” His voice is broken up by a hacking, wheezing cough. “Sit with me?” 

You and Ginny mirror the same hesitance, knowing that doing so would be entirely inappropriate for people of your calibre. It isn’t lost in Tony’s eyes and makes one final plea. “Please. It may be my last breakfast, I would hate to spend it alone.” 

Conceding, you sit by his right and Ginny follows seconds later on his left, the food remaining untouched. Formalities quickly simmer and sitting here with Tony and Ginny as the golden sunlight beams in through the 15 foot windows, you seem to be at ease but underneath it all, a melancholy aura floods the room. 

“I…” Tony starts, sitting upright. “I…wanted to say thank you to you both. I know that hasn’t been said often - I’m aware of that - but today, I really mean it. Your families have served me well and I intend to serve you well after my…strangely imminent passing.”

Yet another silent conversation is shared between you and Ginny. This time it’s a look of ‘what is he going to say?’ 

Tony opens his mouth again but the words don’t leave his lips, stopped by a reluctance that consumes him. Your heart stops dead in your chest. 

“My…passing leaves my staff, my faction and my inheritance vulnerable, and I have no doubt that the other psychos in this world will want to snatch it for themselves. Call it my better nature but I can’t…I won’t leave you in the hands of Rogers or Strange or even Thor, despite them being the obvious choice for a successor. So…” he waves his hand dismissively, “I’ve decided that you’re now Parker’s.” 

“Spider-Man?” you confirm. 

“Yes. Spider-Man. Peter Parker. He’s the only one I can trust to not treat my inheritance as an invitation for world domination.” He laughs half-heartedly and it descends into a fit of coughs and you’re by his side in seconds. The flickering of the blue metal heart catches your peripheral and you sense that something’s failing. 

“Sir, we should-” 

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Now, I’ve been assured that the transaction will be quick and peaceful, and that the conditions will be strictly adhered to and by Gods there will be a serious haunting if anything doesn’t go according to plan.” Tony’s chuckle brings about a smile to your lips. He really is serious about taking care of what he leaves behind. Part of you believed he was all talk. 

“Sir? What have we to do once…once you pass?” 

Tony reaches over and places a shaky hand over yours as if to reassure you. “Nothing. You are to remain where you are. My passing won’t change anything for you or this faction; it’s a condition I made clear to Parker if he truly wants to claim his endowments. Everything will remain the same except it’ll just be Parker walking around these halls instead.” 

“What’s he like?” Ginny asks. It’s a question that circles your mind too. 

“Young, fair, perhaps a tad naive for my liking, but…capable. That kid’s got some serious potential. He’ll be the first Avenger to own two factions, one of which is the biggest so girls, by all means, don’t let that get to his head and believe me, I know it will, so you have my expressed permission to humble him every now and then, got it?” 

Everyone knows that his late arrival to the planet meant that Peter Parker owned the smallest faction. One that borders the most eastern side of Tony’s and across the water. His income of infinity stones is not nearly as substantial as the other deities before him and it often puts him in the firing line for endless teasing. You once heard of a rumour that the other deities nickname him ‘slim pickings’, taking only what was left of the unclaimed and the unwanted. Of course, Tony - being the reformed man that he is - chooses to take pity on him, taking him under his wing and showing him the ropes of what it means to be a God amongst commoners. And now he’s about to become your God.

“Sure.” 

Content, Tony looks over solemnly to the map of the world displayed on the wall at the far end of the room. The framed, hand-painted map is a 2D landscape of the world showing the division of the eight factions, colour coded and labelled with the name of the Avenger that owns it. “I just wish the others were capable of being humbled too. I worry about how they’ll react when they hear Parker’s getting everything--”

“You haven’t told them?” 

“Pfft, no of course not. Do you think I want Capsicle and Point Break squawking in my ear about what they’re not getting in my final days? Hell no! I can’t think of a worse way to go. I’ll leave that burden with Parker, it can be his first lesson.” 

“And…what if they don’t accept it?” Your words speak the thought as it materialises in your head, and when Tony turns to you with a dejected sigh, you know the same thought has passed through his mind too. The truth is, Tony has been acutely aware of that possibility for a while, that in order for the desired outcome, it relies heavily on his legacy of being the ‘leader’ and whether or not the other Avengers will uphold that respect they have for him, even in death. It’s been years after all. Who’s to say that the Avengers haven’t been getting bored? Tony’s perception of his legacy may not be as revered as he hopes it to be. 

“It’s fine,” Tony shrugs but it’s rather unconvincing. “Everything will go according to plan.” 

>>>> Chapter 1

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #tom holland #peter parker #smut #peter parker smut #the avengers #dark!avengers #dark!tom holland #dystopian #peter parker fic #spiderman #iron man #thor #doctor strange #the hulk #captain america #hawkeye #black widow #infinity war #endgame #tom holland x reader #peter parker angst

[liz-allyn]

Hi it’s me how are you doing good I hope so I just read sugar and vice pt 4 and I tell it’s breath taking it’s so good I’m so surprised with the sudden change in the tone of the story I knew that it was a dark story because of violence and the mob au usually contains but I was not expecting it to get sending shivers down your spine as you fear for the life of the mc kind of dark you’ve executed the twist so well I bet none of your readers saw it coming I really love that about your writing and I’m so looking for forward to where this is going to end up taking us Peter in this chapter was terrible terrifying and an idiot to put it mildly but I still have empathy for him (see that’s what makes your writing so fun to read ) I did feel bad when is pts kicked but the aftermath ?the way he dealt with ?it left me disgusted and disappointed and disturbed he was awful to someone he calls the brightest thing in his life and he has no excuse for that none whatsoever it left a very bitter taste in my mouth so much for “protecting” her from monsters he should take it easy with her I know he’s learning but if he wants her to even remotely trust him after that incident he needs to learn fast that’s it for now all my love starlight

🌌

Hi starlight!! I am doing well, I had a nice half week off with fam (but now I’m also really tired and ready for quiet?)

How was your last week?

I’m so glad you’re liking Sugar and Vice! Yes, we do not like mean angry Peter, especially when he’s angry at our Honey, but keep in mind, I’m writing a slightly darker, Peter variation. He’s not the same guy we know from TASM. It’s different from how I wrote peter in my other stuff (he was such a sweetheart in Heat of the Moment 💜).

This Peter is going to be darker, messy, controlling (maybe a little yandere), rageful, and at the very least, morally gray. I want to portray him as at war with himself about how to be better, considering the departure his life has taken from the TASM canon. We want to root for him, but he will disappoint us many times. And Honey as we learn is not a perfect healthy character. I predict her impulses will lead them into a passionate, strangely functional (and toxic) relationship. Don’t think that these characters or their relationship is what anyone should want for themselves! That’s another reason why I don’t recommend anyone read this that isn’t over 18, or is triggered by emotional abuse and toxic relationships— everyone needs to prioritize their mental health first!

I read mob fics and I enjoy them mostly, but sometimes the main character ends up being so sweet that you’d be surprised he’s the leader of a criminal organization, or he’s so evil he’s the devil incarnate. No room for gray areas. So I definitely want to do something different, but also try to write reasons to justify those actions.

I’m not totally sure where this story is going to take me! I’m trying something new where I’m not hyper-focused on how this will end, just writing in a flow. But I am a fan of happy endings, so hopefully it’ll be worth it in the end!

Thank you for your thoughtful message! As always I love hearing from you 💜

#🌌.txt #💬 sugar and vice #yandere!peter parker #dark peter parker #mob peter parker #mafia au #mob au #peter parker mob au #dark!peter x reader

[yichuuonvenus]

!!I am a dark fic writer so if that scares you please do not go any further!! - Love, Yichuu

Peter Parker Ethan Landry Tom Riddle Coriolanus Snow Walter De Ville Loki Laufeyson Aemond "One-Eye" Targaryen Arvin Russell

#masterlist #dark!fic #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #dark!ethan landry x reader #dark!tom riddle x reader #dark!walter de ville reader #dark!loki x reader #arvin russell x reader #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #dark!peter parker x reader #dark!tom riddle #dark!loki #dark!coriolanus snow #dark!ethan landry #dark!walter de ville #dark!aemond targaryen

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

How would yandere Peter Parker(Tom version) react to the reader running away from her own wedding? Like the vows are being said and stuff and reader manages to slip away from him and hitches her dress and starts to make a run for it? Would he find her and if so, what would he do to her?

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

AN: Thanks for requesting. I didn't know if you wanted just my thoughts on this or a proper imagine, but either way i did a headcanon. Hope you like this :) Make sure to reblog and give me feedback

More at Masterlist

(female reader)

WARNINGS: Forced marriage; Implied future Breeding/Forced Pregnancy

--

It would be a public yet private and small wedding. Peter wants Aunt May to be there and also his friends (even if it’s just MJ and Ned) but mostly he wants to show you off to everyone. Show that a beautiful girl like you loves him and only him.

Which is a lie, you made a good job pretending to be a loving girlfriend in front of everyone but that’s because you’re afraid of Peter and what he’s capable of.

He has previously proved that he’s dangerous and unless you want your loved ones, you'll have to behave.

Your family may or not be invited. Peter will use the excuse of you not being close with your family but if May insists too much, then he’ll be forced to invite them even after he’s the one that caused an edge between you and your family.

You didn’t want to get married to Peter, but you had to pretend to be happy for the sake of your loved ones. You hate pretending to be compliant but it’s a small sacrifice you have to make.  

But after the vows being said and official kiss is done, Peter leans to your ear and whisper dreadful words that make your heart stop

“I can’t wait to start trying for kids.” 

You don’t want kids, not with Peter. If you end up pregnant, it means there will be no way out for you. Never.

You’d never be able to run away, that task being significantly harder with kids on your tail. 

So, in a moment of weakness, just as Peter is busy greeting his friends, you take the chance and run away.

Surprisingly enough, no one sees you fleeing the scene but they soon notice you’re missing from the venue.

Peter is scared, he almost thinks someone has kidnapped you but that’s until he checks the apartment cameras and sees that you’re packing your clothes in a hurry.

He lowkey lies to everyone, claiming that you’ve felt bad and so he told you to go home and rest and with that, he ends the wedding party.

Peter rushes home and on his way there he makes sure to lock the apartment doors with the security app on his phone. That way you’ll be trapped inside until he reaches it.

And then, well, let’s just say that all your fears will come true.

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #dark marvel #dark peter parker #dark peter parker x reader #yandere peter parker x reader #yandere peter parker #yandere marvel #yandere avengers #yandere headcanon #dark!peter parker x reader #dark!peter x reader #dark!peter parker #yandere!peter parker #yandere!peter parker x reader