#dark marvel fic

[hypnoticsin]

The Break In

Summary: You and your friends break into the wrong house and pay the price. Part one of "The Break In" Series

Dark! Steve Rogers x fem! Reader, I imagine an older nomad Steve

Warnings: 18+ DARK FIC READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, non-con

Note: This took me a lot longer than I wanted to write but I do have at least 2 more parts I want to write for this. I am insanely invested in this story, let me know if you are as well.

Divider by: @firefly-graphics

“Kev how much further?” Amy whines, her steps heavy and in sync with your own. You would have mocked her lack of endurance if you hadn’t been out of breath yourself.

It seemed the daily runs were paying off for Kevin as he led the group already past the slope of the hill and out of view. Malik relays the message of "just a little more" and you roll your eyes at the lack of huff and puff in his voice and curse the sloped ground as you trip for the third time. “Alright, that’s it! You’re not allowed to pick houses anymore!” Amy yells ahead. 

You were never the one to complain but at this point, this “walk up a small hill” Kevin had sold to you guys had turned into a full-on hike and you hated being duped, almost as much as you hated being sweaty. “Seriously Kevin, this house better be golden!” You grumbled, “And I mean it, I want new shoes and at least 2 iPads, ones with the pencil thing.” 

“If she gets the iPads then there better be laptops for me.” Amy adds  

The house screamed golden. One of those rare almost-too-perfect-to-be-true types of houses that the group scored maybe once every 2 years. Big, but not too big that it would take hours to sift through. Plus, it was reclusive; you couldn’t remember the last house you had seen on the way, and contemporary meaning the owner was loaded and wanted you to know it. 

You scan the area for security cameras but come up empty. Even past the house, there seemed to be nothing but open fields of trees and greens. It's puzzling and your concern grows when Kevin plainly opens the door. “Hey, no fair you already went in? That’s rule number... whatever; don’t break in without anyone else.” Amy only remembers the rules when she’s the one not breaking them. 

“Rule 5.” Malik's a stickler for the rules.

“I didn’t break in.” There’s a pause, only broken by Amy who starts laughing, repeating no fucking way, no fucking way. Kevin bows comically and swipes his hands through the air gesturing into the house, “Right this way ladies and Malik.” 

Amy all but jumps through the door with Malik following quickly behind her. You almost expect alarms to start ringing when they step over the entrance but there’s nothing but Amy’s squeals. Kevin's already working on disarming your worry when you turn to look at him.

"Relax, it's all good."

You’re shaking your head, “We shouldn’t. Who leaves their house unlocked like this? And no security?” It just feels off, “We shouldn’t risk it.” 

Kevin’s shoulders drop and he takes your hands in his, it's his way of trying to soothe you. “All we ever do is take risks. It’s probably a vacation house for some rich asshole who was busy on a business call and forgot to lock the door when he left. You know we'll be in and out before anyone even remotely gets close to this place,” He tugs on your hands, "quick before Amy and Malik take all the good stuff." 

The worry settles into a pit in your stomach, “You haven’t seen anyone come by?” Kevin gives a curt no. You push the worry down and decide to be a team player. 

There is a painting hanging in the living room that catches your interest, it depicts a woman sitting alone staring at a wineglass. She seems mad but that's not the whole story. She's sat hugging herself with one hand and her fingers are eerily too long, desperate to hold more of herself. She is lonely and bitter at the glass for reflecting its emptiness back at her. 

“Well, she’s kinda ugly.”

Amy gives the shelf next to you a quick scan but you've already looked at it and know there's nothing valuable. It's all just generic books, a couple of knickknacks, and some memorabilia. She heads to the couch and lands with a soft plop, “This place is a bust. His bedroom is equally as depressing.” 

"What, nothing good in the closet?" Amy always made a beeline to closets, clothes were easy to pack up and rich people usually had all the luxury brands that sold for a pretty penny. Malik would be searching for a safe hidden under the bed or in the walls and Kevin always liked snatching jewelry and drugs.

“Nothing and I mean nothing in his closet is a brand name. He dresses like one of those poor-looking rich people in tech.” She kicks her feet out and yells out “Kevin you better be coming down to rub my feet after all that walking for nothing!"

The house was expensive and it looked all grand from the outside but whoever lived here was not materialistic at all, you hadn't found much of worth to take. Not much but...

You rummage through the open pocket of your bag and pull out a small brown leather box. Seeing Amy upset was like seeing a kicked puppy so with little hesitation you open the box and present the ring to her. She immediately sparks up, pulling out the gold-plated diamond ring.

“It's too small for me.”

She kisses you on your cheek and slides the ring on. 

His bedroom is not depressing. Yeah, it's a bit plain but it's also quiet and comforting. You’re lying in his bed, your hair wrapped up in your jacket like always. This was your favorite part, to lie on the soft mattresses and allow yourself to imagine what sweet, got-nothing-to-worry-about type of sleep felt like. But you could never fall asleep, only sort of drift in the in-between.

The four of you had banded together in your first and last year of college; Malik and you were in the same group for scholarship kids and had snuck away during a tour of the campus where the tour guide really put the emphasis on just "how lucky you were all to be here". Kevin, you met in an econ class when you had to wake him up to take the attendance sheet, and sweet little Amy shared a dorm floor with you and you let her bunk with you after her roommate locked her out for being too chatty and yours hadn't shown up yet.

The first house you robbed was Kevin's. No one ever believed Kevin when he said his parents were loaded--he dressed like a bum and was always mooching off someone's plate--but during the ending weeks of summer break he invited everyone back to his place; it was the first mansion you've ever been in. Kevin's family wasn't just rich they were ridiculously wealthy like old money, probably tied to war crimes kind of rich.

Then Kevin revealed why he had brought you all over. He wasn't going to return to school because his daddy cut him off for wanting to change his major so in retaliation, Kevin was going to rob them blind, and like the good friend he was, he decided we could take anything we could carry out the house. Amy turned out to be really good at upselling, Malik was in love with the thrill and you knew you were going to burn out trying to keep up with the good grades and the stealing was just so easy.

The rest in the in-between doesn't last long as you're pulled out of it by a loud thud from downstairs. You're up on your feet at another thud but this time it's followed by the smash of glass and a scream.

Your heart beats in your ears and it's hard to hear anything else, the deafening silence brings the worry bubbling out of your stomach and almost weights you down to the ground. You should move, you really should but your mind is trying to rationalize the noises, "probably just pranking me." It all happened too fast, there wasn't a real struggle. There couldn't have been.

The door swings open just as you were about to grab the doorknob, the seal breaks, and the screams are back until they're cut off with a sickening crunch. Malik grabs you by the shoulders, his mouth is moving but you can't focus on anything but the kitchen knife stuck in his shoulder. Blood is soaking his shirt,

God, his blood

Malik shakes you and you realize how lightheaded you've gotten,

"What,"

"Malik, you're bleeding."

"Where's Amy? Kevin?"

Malik is quick with his movements, opening the bedroom window, pushing you towards it, helping you up until you're sitting on the window stool looking back at him.

"What happened, Malik?"

"They're dead."

The bedroom door opens right as Malik pushes you out the window. The fall isn't bad, nothing feels broken but you land on your back and get the wind knocked out of you. You can still see Malik peering down at you yelling to go, to run.

But you can't, you're just lying there, trying to convince yourself that you're not going to die just like kids do when they fall like this. But this time death is seeming like a very possible end.

You let out sallow grunts as you try to breathe properly, and the spasming turns into crawling. You don't hear Malik anymore but you're too scared to turn around. You don't get very far before a hand is tangled in your hair, the pull is harsh and has your whole body turning around. The sun blinds your eyes, and you can only make out the figure of a man before your face meets the blunt end of his axe.

Your eyes slowly open to unveil a clear night sky, the rhythmic sound of metal meeting dirt and gentle plops of dirt falling fill your ears. The world spins as you slowly regain your senses.

You're laying on the cool grass and your skin goosebumps in the cold night air. The left side of your forehead is swollen to the touch and when you pull back your hand there are flakes of dried blood on your fingers. You don't know what to do, your head's pounding, and it's frustratingly difficult to move. Crawling didn't help you last time so you decide to ignore the pain pulsing through your body and push yourself up and run; the backyard is pretty empty besides a tall apple tree and it isn't fenced off so you can run around to the front and down the hill.

But when you manage to stand you're quickly bought back down to your knees at the gruesome sight before you. Bloody bodies clumped together, a leg cracked hanging together by what you can only assume as muscles instead of bone, blood dripping down hanging limbs, on top spread open like a Christmas tree topper is Malik's body, and stuck upright in the dirt staring up at you is his decapitated head.

You reach out to close Malik's eyes, it's the least and only thing you can do, but a grip on your ankle pulls you away. You kick out in retaliation but the man doesn't budge, he lets go only to grab a fistful of your hair. The pain in your head doubles and you're screaming as he pulls you up to your feet.

He towers over you, his sweat-drenched shirt sticks to his chest, and parts of his blond hair fall over his face but you can still make out his aggravated scowl. His build, the grip he has on you, and the remains of your friends are all evidence of his deadly strength but as he stares you down, you can't help but be reminded of the painting that hangs in his living room.

He sets you down like a child and you stumble trying to find your balance.

He kicks forward a shovel "Dig."

Your eyes glance from the shove to the man to the remains of your friends and back down to the one hole he's already dug.

He doesn't take well to your hesitation and he doesn't really seem like a man you say no to so before he takes another step towards you, you grab the shovel. The handle's still warm from his touch. Once you have it in a position that feels comfortable you look up at him for some kind of confirmation. He gives a single nod and you start to dig a grave for your friends.

Your fingers are cramping, almost pulsating from the non-stop friction from the shovel. All of your bones are begging for you to just lay down right there but you have another grave to dig, you consider the length you'll need to dig and shuffle a bit away from the first one you've dug but just as you're about to push in the shovel with your foot, he rips it out of your hands and throws it to the side.

He leaves you in confusion and makes his way over to the bodies, lugging Malik over his left shoulder, Kevin on his right, and he drags Amy by the arm, with his hands full he resorts to kicking Malik's head straight into the grave he's dug. You flinched at the sounds of his head tumbling around.

"There are only 2 graves." Your obvious clarification goes ignored.

He carries their bodies like sacks of potatoes and throws them into the grave the same way you'd throw trash down a garbage shoot.

With his hands empty, he makes his way over to you and you want to blame your lack of movement on how exhausted your legs are but you can't help but feel caged as he walks over to you. He grabs you by the upper arm and drags you over to the edge of the grave you've dug. "This one," his grainy voice tickles your ears with dread, "this one is yours."

A shove sends you falling in, the dust from your fall has you coughing, and more fills the air as he lands in front of you.

Tears form in your eyes at the implication as you imagine your body decaying in the ground, no one would know, no one would grieve you. The family you once had; you had disappointed, and you can't help but feel the same about the friends you let be obliterated by the man standing in front of you.

The grave you dug is uneven and narrow and he's close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off of him. When he takes a step forward you hear yourself plea.

"Please,"

It's easy to grovel when you're already on your knees, "please don't... Please I don't want to die."

It's the truth, the threat of death shakes you to your core, and kneeling down in a grave that you've dug, apparently for yourself, has fear creeping in from all angles. There hadn't been a clear moment to think ever since Malik pushed you out that window. But here caged in between a wall and a murderer the only thing you could think of was not dying.

Your plea surprises him, you can see the hesitation in his eyes as he takes a moment to look over you, and you hope it will save you. His hand comes down to wipe the tears away from your eyes, a little too late as some are already streaking down your cheeks.

His touch is soft and you find yourself leaning in as his hand lingers under your face. "Please, you don't have to kill me."

He shakes his head, "I won't." His expression doesn't soften like his hand but you find yourself trusting him, with blind hope, it's all you have at this point.

But it's snuffed out when he twists your body around leaving you facing a wall of dirt.

"You want to stay alive?" He taunts and you feel the need to nod.

Yes, you want to stay alive.

His weight behind you pushes you forward and your hands aren't fast enough to save you from a face full of dirt. He uses this advantage to kick your feet apart as if you weren't weak enough to be malleable to begin with. He wraps one arm around your waist and the other starts to tug at your pants.

His movements are too quick for you to keep up with but when you realize your fate you fidget in his arm, struggling with no real result. "Wait... What..." But he ignores you. You feel your pants tear and drop around your feet. You would have been humiliated if fear hadn't been the main emotion encapsulating you.

"You want to live right?" His gruff voice has you shuttering in tears but still, you nod, "Well, this is how you live."

A whimper of a plea escapes your throat and he pushes you into the wall once more, and with dirt blocking your eyes and underneath your fingernails, you stay willing, his free hand crawls up your body. Groping your breasts and squeezing the tender skin of your waist, his chest rumbles in pleasure. "I had forgotten how soft-" His words die as he leans into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath at first then placing a kiss, and finally a small bite of the skin by your shoulder blade.

"I had forgotten how soft flesh felt, The hand by your waist dips into your folds, "so soft." you hold in a sob. His fingers part you and play around a bit before he digs into you, harder than the words that leave his mouth. Your new tears are absorbed by the dirt in front of you, "Don't... Don't do this please."

In response, he shoves a finger in you and then another. Shamefully you shift your legs to tolerate his intrusion. He curls another fingers in you, his other hand finding its place at your clit in a way to make up for the pain and he keeps going until you've become slick. You hear the sound of his pants unbuckling and you prepare the next plea of yours but as if he expected it, he pulls your head back by your hair and shoves your face forward, deep enough to have you inhaling dirt and at the same time he finally buries his dick into you.

While you're crying out, inhaling dirt, and using your hands to push back his thighs but he doesn't mind it as he pumps into you. The roll of his hips start to become familiar, his grunts start to fall into a rhythm and your tears subside. You start to choke on the moist dirt as you scratch at his hand entangled in your hair, begging for release. He complies and you cough out the dirt but his free hands grip your shoulders and pull you back onto his cock with a force so strong you let out moans with the new air in your lungs.

As his thrusts become erratic your knees buckle as the build-up of pleasure ripples through you but it's not enough to distract you from your initial fear. You still think death is on the table when he pulls out of you, his hand comes down to catch his seed dripping out of you. He clears his throat and rubs the liquid into your back, almost as if to soothe you. You prepare yourself for a swift death now but it never comes, "You want to live, yes?"

Even after all that has happened you still fear death, so you nod and your voice cracks upon answer.

"Yes."

[cherienymphe]

Suburbia V (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: eventual NON-CON, eventual DUB-CON, voyeurism, stalking, somnophilia, breeding kink, eventual violence, eventual blackmail, age gap, brief side of Bucky x reader, 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.

~

“Y/N said you were such a natural at this, but I guess seeing really is believing,” Nat praised, sipping on her red wine.

Peter only laughed in response as he rocked one of the twins to sleep, a pink flush spreading over his face.

“Nat, you’re embarrassing me,” you mumbled.

The redhead placed a hand on her chest.

“You give the boy high praises, and there’s nothing wrong with that! He is a natural. I’m almost tempted to challenge whatever she’s paying you,” she teased, and Peter finally spoke.

“All the money in the world couldn’t sway me, I’m sorry to say,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’m way too happy here.”

Nat raised a brow at that, glancing at you with a look you couldn’t name.

“I’m going to go lay her down…”

You waved him off, and you weren’t surprised when Nat turned in her seat to fully face you. She shook her head at you with a small chuckle, red waves bouncing.

“…what?”

“That boy is so sweet on you it’s enough to give you a toothache,” she whispered, leaning in.

You frowned at her before snorting, sipping your water.

“I’m serious!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you told her.

“He looks at you like you’re a god, and I guess to a family oriented 23-year-old guy, you are.”

“He just…admires me, I think,” you argued with a shrug. “I’m just impressive to him, you know?”

“Yeah, because you’re wife material,” she grumbled.

You playfully smacked her.

“There is an entire decade between us. Peter wants a girl his own age-.”

“You’re a milf,” she deadpanned, making you choke on your water. “There are countless songs and books and an entire porn category dedicated to you. If you don’t think that kid is into that, then you’re willfully blind at this point.”

“Can you not refer to him as ‘kid’ when you’re joking about him wanting to have sex with me? Thanks.”

Nat laughed, and you rolled your eyes.

“All jokes aside, I do think he has a little crush on you, and its cute. If you were feeling insecure before, I’m sure that’s enough to perk you right up.”

You scrunched your nose, and now it was her turn to roll her eyes.

“He hangs onto your every word, and I know you don’t see it—or don’t want to, but it’s cute. Harmless,” she said with a shrug.

Peter returned before you could respond to her, the brunette telling you that one twin was down, and the other was nearly there so he’d turned on the music box.

“Thank you, Peter.”

“Thank you, Peter,” the redhead sang, and you grimaced as he flushed some more before leaving the dining room.

“Don’t be surprised if I never invite you over again.”

She waved you off.

“You think I’m embarrassing him, but I promise you that he’s eating this up on the inside. Enough about Peter, anyway,” she said, shifting. “Bucky asked about you.”

You sighed, glancing away.

“You can’t get to know him better if you never talk to him,” she told you, swirling her glass around, and you silently agreed.

“I know,” you breathed. “…I just don’t want to give him the wrong impression. A simple conversation, a hug…a laugh, it might mean more to him than to me.”

Nat nodded.

“True, but he’s obsessed with you. Not even for just dating, but in general. You should see how he looks when he talks about you. You can tell that he’s just so fond of you…”

Her words had you faltering, and you chewed on your lip.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like that, and I promise I won’t pressure you anymore about it but think about it. I think he could be really good for you…and your place here,” she added quietly.

Your eyes met hers, and she looked sheepish.

“I know that those bitches are making things kind of miserable for you, and I know that I—and now I guess Peter, can only provide so much happiness in a town where people hate you. I don’t expect you to put up with it forever nor would I ask you to,” she continued, and your shoulders fell.

“Nat…”

You didn’t know what to say as she voiced what you hadn’t yet.

“I would never leave without giving you a head’s up.”

“I know,” she said, reaching for your hand. “…but I don’t want you to leave, at all.”

You softly chuckled, looking down.

“You’re hoping that Bucky will keep me here when it’s all said and done?”

“Guilty,” she said with a shrug. “Think of what a beautiful couple you guys would make.”

“He is really sweet,” you eventually admitted. “…and maybe that’s part of the problem.”

Nat was frowning at you now.

“What if I do like him?” you wondered, sheepishly looking at her from beneath your lashes.

She seemed to understand what you meant, and her face softened.

“I’ve never had a desire for a partner for my kids, and I love that it’s just us, but what if I really like him? What if I want him to be a part of their lives? Everything would change, and…what if it doesn’t work out? I would have to adjust all over again, and yes, they’re young, but subconsciously, so would they,” you confessed.

Nat seemed to stew on that for a minute before nodding.

“That’s something every single mom worries about, and it’s 100% understandable. Partner or not, Bucky is still a great guy, and I know that he’d be just as happy being your friend, and you could always use more of those,” she replied, a teasing lilt in her voice.

You laughed at that.

“Don’t make fun of me just because I’m a pariah.”

“Nat means well, I promise,” you told Peter as you helped him clean up the toys on the floor. “She just can’t help herself sometimes.”

“I’ve known her longer than you, so trust me, I know,” he laughed.

You hummed to yourself.

“Sometimes I forget that you grew up here. I can’t even imagine what that was like.”

You watched as Peter seemed to think it over.

“I wasn’t very popular,” he finally said, and you frowned at that.

“…what? I find that hard to believe,” you scoffed.

Peter laughed again, shaking his head, dark curls bouncing.

“No, no. Girls love the nerds in college, but not so much in middle and high school. It wasn’t a fun time for me…”

He trailed off, and your frown deepened. You imagined what he went through from his tone, and you apologized.

“Don’t be sorry,” he replied with a shrug. “I think it built character, to be honest.”

You shook your head, letting out a humorless laugh.

“If another kid tries to ‘build some character’ for one of mine, I’d probably end up on the news.”

Peter thought that was funny.

“I can’t imagine anyone would ever bully them,” he said, fondly staring at one of the twins. “They’re going to be beautiful and popular. Like their mom.”

You felt your face heat up at his comment, Nat’s words coming to mind.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Peter?”

He seemed thrown by your question, eyes widening ever so slightly before he barked a laugh.

“No,” he said, dragging out the word.

You frowned.

“What was that reaction? It’s not a crazy question. You’re young, attractive, and you have a lot going for yourself. It’s surprising that you don’t.”

“Then you don’t know what the girls are like in this town,” he said, a soft laugh escaping him.

“I guess I don’t,” you said, dumping their toys in the bin.

Peter followed your lead, hands resting on his knees as he knelt beside you.

“They’re too much like…Sharon and Margaret and anyone else who fills their time with their presence. They want a boyfriend like they want a cup of coffee or like they want to go see that new movie that just came out. It’s like checking off a list for them…”

Your face fell at that, noticing the way Peter seemed to be bothered as he talked.

“…and a husband and children are no different. I don’t feel like a person around them but…instead an item to be collected and shown off.”

“…so, I take it you’re going to move then? Eventually? Go somewhere else with ‘better’ options?”

Peter stewed on that, an unreadable look on his face.

“I was. I definitely planned to, but… I don’t think so,” he finally answered, gaze meeting yours now. “I know it doesn’t sound like it, but I’ve recently gotten hopeful about the prospects here.”

“Well, good,” you happily told him. “You’re a catch, Peter, and the right girl certainly isn’t going to view you like some item to be checked off of a list.”

“Did you date much before the twins?” he suddenly wondered, following you down the stairs.

You laughed at the memories that question brought up.

“I did,” you said with a grin. “I dated a few guys, but nothing serious.”

You straightened the blanket on the couch.

“I liked them well enough, but I could just never see any of them in my future, and it always felt unfair to them. Especially when I could tell that they saw me in theirs.”

Peter hummed, hands shoved into his pockets.

“That conversation was always fun,” you sarcastically added, rolling your eyes. “Defending your future plans to jilted men who are upset that you don’t see them as the father of your children? Now that builds character.”

“I can’t imagine how tiring that must’ve been, but…I’m glad you stuck with it.”

Peter sent you a soft smile, eyes shining.

“Your girls wouldn’t be here, and you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t.”

That was something you definitely agreed with Peter on.

“Bucky’s running a little late.”

You nodded, glancing at the menu.

“I’m in no rush,” you distractedly murmured.

Nat had picked you up 20 minutes ago, happy that you had agreed on a friendly group outing that would include Bucky. She was right when she said you couldn’t know him better if you didn’t make the effort to do just that. And while you were unsure about being with him romantically, you were sure that you wanted him as a friend, and as Nat had so eloquently pointed out, you could definitely use more of those.

The restaurant was nice enough. It wasn’t anything super fancy, but a nice setting for a group of friends to eat casually. With that being said, Nat had been adamant about dressing up, and you briefly admired her own dress.

“Did Peter see you before you left?” she slyly asked.

“Stop it,” you said, fighting back a smile. “…and no, he didn’t.”

“Shame,” she sighed. “I wanted you to tell me about the look on his face when he did.”

You placed your menu down.

“Crush or not, stop feeding into it,” you chuckled. “He was in the kitchen with the girls when I left.”

“Peter…and the girls,” she wistfully sighed.

You playfully swatted her with the menu.

“Why do you want me to be a creepy cougar so bad?”

“Why does Nat want you to be a creepy cougar?”

You both looked up at the new voice, taking in the slight frown on Bucky’s face as he looked between you. You hadn’t even heard him come over, and you swallowed at the sight of him. It seemed like every time you saw the man you forgot how handsome he was. His white button down brought out the blue of his eyes, and it seemed like he was letting his hair grow out again.

“I don’t,” the redhead said, greeting him with a hug. “She’s just being dramatic.”

Bucky sat beside you, and you couldn’t deny the way your heart jumped at that. He smiled at you, and you returned it.

“I’m glad you guys didn’t start without me,” he teased.

Nat hummed, glancing at her phone.

“It looks like you two will without me though,” she said, making you frown. “It’s Bruce’s night off and it seems like he’s having some trouble at home.”

Your frown deepened at the way she gathered her things, and you narrowed your eyes at the way she avoided your gaze.

“What kind of trouble?” you heard yourself slowly asking.

“He didn’t specify,” she said, throwing you a mischievous smile. “…but I have to get home immediately. You two have fun!”

You scoffed at her departure, a genuine chuckle escaping you at the unsurprising turn of events. You crossed your arms over your chest, looking at Bucky just as he looked at you. He was fighting back a laugh of his own.

“I think we’ve been setup,” he finally said.

“Oh, Nat,” you sighed, picking up your menu again.

You made light of the situation, but you couldn’t ignore how nervous you felt. You felt like you were in high school and alone with a boy all over again. Except, you weren’t. You were a 30 something mom at a restaurant with a 30 something man. It seemed ridiculous to be so nervous…and yet…

“Don’t be too mad at Nat. I think she’s just really rooting for us,” he told you.

Your eyes met his.

“Yeah, she is. She said you’re crazy about me…”

“I am,” he agreed without hesitation. “…and I know that you have your girls to think about, so I’m willing to take this at whatever pace you want.”

His words reassured you, and it must’ve been obvious.

“Even if I just want to be friends…?”

“Let Nat tell it, you need more of those, anyway.”

You laughed at that, nodding in agreement.

“I take it the other moms aren’t your biggest fans,” he surmised.

“You’re best friends with Steve and Sam. You know they aren’t,” you sighed.

Bucky looked a bit sad at that.

“Yeah. Steve has been threatened with everything from the silent treatment to no sex for 2 months if he even breathes in your direction,” he sadly said.

You let out a humorless laugh at that. It sounded so ridiculous, but you could believe it.

“Maybe I should marry you just for spite. Then they’d have no choice but to be nice to me,” you proposed, and Bucky seemed to like the idea.

“You’re right. Let’s go elope, right now,” he said with a crooked smile, jerking his head towards the exit.

“I would have to pay Peter triple for watching the twins for that long.”

“From what I’ve heard, he’d happily do it for free…”

You raised an eyebrow.

“…and what have you heard…?”

“Nat says he’s got a hard on for you.”

“Don’t be so vulgar,” you gasped, lightly hitting his arm. “I swear, between you and Nat, I don’t know who’s worse.”

“Well, does he?” he curiously wondered.

“I think Peter admires me, and…there could be a little something extra that’s fueled by that admiration, but nothing deeper than that. It’s harmless. Like crushing on your teacher or something,” you waved it off.

Bucky hummed, and you couldn’t place the look on his face.

“I guess I can’t blame him. You’re gorgeous and successful and a wonderful mother. You have it all. Any guy with common sense would hope to be a part of that,” Bucky commented.

You knew that Bucky was more so speaking about himself now, but before you could continue with the subject, the server finally came.

Bucky’s hand was light on your arm as he walked you to your door. You wobbled a bit in your low heels, the alcohol in your system making you giddier and clumsier than usual. You chuckled when he steadied you, blue eyes meeting yours when you thanked him.

“You didn’t have to walk me to my door,” you said.

“Of course, I did. My mama raised me right…”

You smiled at that, glancing down.

You were shocked by just how much fun you’d had tonight. Bucky was indeed a sweetheart, and funny too. You hadn’t expected to laugh as much as you did, but you had, and just like you’d expressed to Nat… You liked him. It was impossible not to, and that scared you, but Bucky said he was willing to take this at whatever pace you were comfortable with, and that calmed you a bit.

“I had a great time tonight,” he said when you stopped at your door. “I’m glad Nat abandoned us.”

You threw your head back and laughed at that.

“I was planning on tearing her a new one, but I guess I’ll have to thank her instead,” you slowly said.

Bucky joined you, and your buzzed brain wandered at the sound of his laugh. You couldn’t stop staring at him, and for the first time in a long time, you wanted this man around. Bucky caught you, smirking at you now.

“…what?”

You slowly shook your head.

“Just…looking at you. Thinking…”

“About…?”

You exhaled, leaning against your door.

“That I like you, and I’m glad I went out tonight,” you honestly told him.

Bucky’s smile softened at that, and he leaned in to press his lips to your cheek. It amazed you how you were both disappointed and relieved that he hadn’t kissed you on the lips. When he pulled away, he fixed an errant hair.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” you whispered. “Let me know you got home safely.”

He agreed to do just that before heading towards his car. You went inside, watching him drive off from the other side of the glass. You sighed to yourself, taking your heels off before calling to Peter. He didn’t answer, but you weren’t concerned.

As you made your way up the stairs, you heard him humming, and a smile danced over your lips. The girls’ room door was cracked, and when you pushed it open, there was Peter, a twin in his arm as he rocked her to sleep. His back was to you, and you found yourself leaning against the door to watch him.

“Do you sing?”

If he was surprised by your presence, he didn’t show it.

“No,” he softly chuckled, turning around. “My aunt May always wanted me to in school though. Photography was much more my thing.”

His voice was low, careful not to wake her, and you watched him set her back down in the crib.

“How was the date?” he wondered, back still to you.

“Not a date…but it was nice. Nat abandoned us, but honestly, I’m kind of happy she did. I had a great time,” you truthfully told him.

He raised his brows as he fully took you in. He blinked a few times, brown eyes roaming over your hair and dress, throat clearing as he briefly glanced away.

“Wow,” he praised. “You look amazing for a non-date.”

“Blame Nat,” you groaned. “She set me up from the start.”

You started to make your way downstairs, Peter close behind. You stumbled again, but he caught you by the arm, and embarrassment flooded you.

“You really had fun, it seems.”

“Just 2 drinks,” you told him after thanking him. “How were they?”

“Angels as always.”

“I feel like even if they weren’t, you would still tell me they were,” you said, playfully narrowing your eyes at him over your shoulder.

“Of course, I would,” he agreed, sitting on your couch.

It was a Friday, and it wasn’t uncommon for you and Peter to sit and just talk sometimes on weekend nights like this.

“I’ll probably feel that way about my own kids one day.”

You sat down beside him, rubbing at your feet with a slight wince.

“It’s still so strange to me that you’re so ready for all of that. When I was your age, children were the farthest thing from my mind. Are you one of those who just wants one or do you want to make your own little army? I feel like it’s one or the other with most people,” you mumbled.

“I want a house full of children,” he quietly replied as you sat up, leaning back. “I want to hear them running around and laughing and causing mischief.”

You gave a fond chuckle at that.

“God have mercy on your future wife…and her vagina,” you added. “That’s a lot of pushing and a lot of work.”

Peter joined you.

“I’d make sure she’d want for nothing though, you know? I’d treat her like a princess and provide for her and make sure she’s the happiest woman in the world. How could I not when she’s giving me everything I’ve ever wanted?” he mused.

You hummed at that with a slight frown.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as one of them…”

“One of them…?” he curiously looked at you.

“One of those traditional types. You want to work hard and bring home the bacon while your wife stays at home with the kids… I know plenty of you still exist, but it never amazes me considering what year it is,” you elaborated.

Peter was silent for a while, simply staring at you.

“That’s not your thin…?”

You threw him a look.

“Peter. Look at my situation. Does anything about me scream ‘traditional’ to you?”

“No, I suppose not,” he admitted with a soft laugh. “…but come on. You’re telling me that if you did meet that someone one day, and he checked off all of the boxes…you wouldn’t agree to that if that’s what he wanted? Even if he was providing for you in every way?”

His eyes bore into yours, and you eventually shook your head.

“I enjoy my independence too much, and…even if that was something I could enjoy in a fantasy, the reality is much too dangerous. Relying on someone else completely would leave me vulnerable. People change their minds. People…change,” you said. “He could leave me high and dry with nothing. He could…abuse me, and I’d have no means of leaving.”

Peter moved closer, elbow on the back of the couch as he rested his head on his hand.

“…but what if he was none of those things though? What if he didn’t change his mind or-.”

“But he could. Anything is possible, Peter, and I like to account for that,” you said with a shrug.

Peter continued to stare at you before a slow smile danced along his lips.

“I guess you’re right…”

“I will say that I don’t think you’re capable of that though, and I know you would treat your future wife exactly as you say you would,” you complimented. “You don’t strike me as that kind of guy.”

You swallowed down a yawn as Peter looked at you.

“I should get some sleep, and I know that you,” you reached towards him. “…have had a long day too. Those girls just have so much energy-.”

You stumbled again when you stood, but Peter was quick in catching you, even quicker in pressing his lips to yours.

It took you way too long to recognize what was happening. Your eyes were wide as he moved his lips over yours, his hands on your waist. Your own hands were in the air, unsure of what to do with them as he tasted the inside of your mouth. Peter’s lips were soft and skillful, making your toes curl. His arms snaked around you, pulling you closer, and your chest was completely pressed to his.

He took a step forward, forcing you back, and both the alcohol and his lips on yours had your head spinning. This seemed wrong to you somehow, despite how right it felt, and your lashes fluttered when he moaned into your mouth. He briefly pulled away to lick your lips before kissing you again. It’s like he was trying to breathe you in, and your hands finally landed on his arms.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he groaned into the kiss.

His voice, Peter’s voice, seemed to break the spell, and you finally started to push against him.

“Peter… Peter wait-.”

You leaned back, and he tried to follow, but you turned your head away. Your chest was heaving, and you felt lightheaded. It only just started to hit you that you were wrapped up in the arms of your babysitter, and once reality set back in, your stomach churned. You felt…disgusted.

“What’s wrong?” he breathily asked when you fought to get out of his arms.

You finally succeeded, and you practically threw yourself away from him. You wrapped your arms around yourself, hesitantly meeting his eyes.

“Peter… I…”

You weren’t sure how to even breech this topic, still confused and weirdly hot in the pit of your stomach.

“I-I-I think you should go,” you whispered.

Peter frowned at that, and you swallowed. He studied your face intently before eventually nodding, face falling.

“Of course. I’m…I’m sorry,” he said.

You watched him hesitantly make his way to the door.

“Uh…have a good night.”

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, and the only thing you could focus on was how much of a drink you needed.

~

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[thran-duils]

Shallow Waters (P.13)

Title: Shallow Waters (Part Thirteen) Summary: Reader moves to a remote seaside town in the PNW and is called upon by the church to serve in the area. Little does she know the biker gang rules everything in the area, using the church as their bread and butter for business. Everyone is too afraid to do anything to stop them and she catches the eye of not only the president but other members. Can she escape before she gets too woven into their intricate web? Fic is 18+! Pairing: Dark!Tony Stark x Fem!Reader, Dark!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader, Dark!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader Words: 3,486 Warnings (more may be added): Non-con, drugging, religious exploitation, branding, humiliation/degradation, mention of caning, aquaphilia, begging kink, anal training, barebacking, pregnancy

Part Twelve || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Tony was spending more time at home the closer you got to your due date. Sleeping in the same bed with him had taken some getting used to. The first week you felt like you were not getting adequate sleep because every time he moved, you woke, tense, thinking something was going to happen to you. But he merely adjusted – usually asleep still – and fell still again. Eventually you would fall asleep again when your body relaxed, and the chirping of the crickets lulled you back to slumber. Him moving during the night stopped waking you up after that first week and you fell into a sense of security that you were not going to be ambushed in your sleep.

The bed was still comfier than the one in the basement and up here, you were not locked behind a door. And it was easier for the fresh ocean breeze to flow too through the window in an upper bedroom. Still, you had been assaulted in this bed, in the guest room bed, and downstairs. No bed in this cabin was free from your trauma no matter if you currently felt convinced you were safe.

You often wondered why Tony trusted you to not harm him while he was sleeping. The thought had crossed your mind. A knife. A hammer. His gun, even. Perhaps he believed you knew you had slim chances of overpowering him and even slimmer of getting away afterward. All there was in the driveway was his bike and you did not know how to ride. He surely saw how helpless you were to attempt escape and you knew it even surer than he did. Look how well it had gone last time. Steve had tried to drown you in the waves before his grimy hands began to snake. And that was when you were not slowed by carrying your child. You doubted another attempt would fare any better.

It was hard to not sink underneath the reality that unless Tony bid otherwise, you were stuck here. You were taking it day by day to not overwhelm yourself.

Movement caught your eye, breaking you from your thoughts. Peering out the window, you saw Sam cutting more firewood. They had been hard at work to get wood chopped to have by the cabin and dried for yours and Tony’s use as well as their own at their own homes during the impending winter. It was August now and it was getting hot for this area. You were used to dry heat and this humidity was really something else.

A knock came at the front door, drawing your attention away from Sam. You had not heard anyone pull up. Shooting another look at Sam, you saw he clearly had not heard anyone drive up either. Before you had any time to consider your options, the front door opened. Your tension melted when you were greeted by Peter’s sweet face.

That made sense now why Sam had not heard anyone; Peter was still waiting on a car. Apparently it was to be a gift for his birthday and for him going off to college. At least that is what Tony had told him when the three of you had been having dinner a couple of weeks ago. Peter was excited to have a car of his own. You understood that excitement; when you had gotten yours, the freedom it permitted was unparalleled to any you had had prior. The loss of it and realization on how much you had come to rely on it still stung.

Peter closed the door behind him and greeted, “Afternoon, Y/N.”

“Hello.” You placed your pencil down; you had not written anything on the crossword for quite some time. You had not been expecting him today since his birthday was tomorrow and wondered why he was here today.

He walked by with his backpack and went into the kitchen. He swung the bag onto the counter and unzipped it. He spoke as he began to pull out groceries, not schoolbooks, from the backpack. “We are having dinner! My treat.”

“Oh?”

“You sound – and look – worried,” Peter commented teasingly. “I promise that I won’t get you sick. I can cook, trust me. I got stuff to make green bean casserole, salmon, and mashed potatoes.”

“Salmon? How did you afford that?” you asked, standing up to join him at the counter.

He said quickly, “No, you don’t get to help.” You cocked an eyebrow and he explained, “Not that I don’t love it when you cook – you’ve kept dad well fed and me when I’ve come over too of course. But I wanted to do something nice. You’re getting close and you should be resting.”

“Well, if I’m always doing that, who is going to keep your father well fed?” you challenged.

“Guess he’s going to have to learn how to cook.”

“Fat chance of that outside of grilling meat.”

Peter laughed lightly, “Right. He does enjoy it. Burgers are his favorite. Um…” he paused, looking in his backpack for something that clearly was not there. Giving you a sheepish look, he said, “I forgot garlic.” You pointed at the bowl against the wall that held the garlic and onions. “Ah, thank you. Honestly, it’s so silly of me. Everyone knows that the best way to prepare salmon is some garlic, lemon slices, and butter. Maybe some thyme.”

“Maybe I should let you cook more often.”

“Smoked is top tier though.”

“Are you telling me I won’t be having that tonight?”

“Unfortunately, no. But baked comes in a close second?”

“I’ll take it,” you smiled. That is when you noticed Sam coming back towards the cabin. And you noted that there were only three pieces of salmon. “Is there going to be enough though?”

“What do you mean?”

“Sam’s here.”

“I know,” Peter answered as the side door opened and Sam strode in, sweat causing his shirt to cling to his chest. “Hey, Sam. Thanks for chopping the wood.”

“Your dad not coming back?” Sam asked, scrubbing his hands, tossing a look over his shoulder as he went to the fridge, throwing it open. He fetched out the pitcher of cold water and went to grab himself a glass.

Peter shook his head, “Not until late or at all. He stopped by school to tell me and asked me to come make Y/N dinner.”

“So, you didn’t come to see me of your own accord?” you teased him. He went pink and his mouth fell open, but he only made a weak noise. “I’m only teasing you, Peter. But you said he might not be back at all?”

“Yes,” Peter answered as Sam said, “Don’t worry.”

He took a long drink of water before saying, “I’m gonna sleep on the couch. So if anything happens, I’ll be here to help. You won’t be sleeping in the cabin alone.”

Of course you would not be. Instead of saying that though, you said evenly, “That’s good. I am scared of early labor.”

“Worries Tony too. Sleep with the door cracked. I’ll hear you from the couch. I’m gonna shower before dinner.”

He finished the water before placing the glass on the table and walking off towards the seat where his duffel bag was. The bathroom door clicked behind him.

Peter made small talk while he prepped the food. He was careful in his work, clearly having done this before. Growing up in a house full of women, you would have expected him to have been coddled. But apparently that was not the case. Peter was naturally curious; you had gathered that about him in the time you had known him. He had more than likely hovered around while his mum or one of the others had been cooking and insisted that he be allowed to help, asking questions about the ingredients and why they were doing what they were doing. The thought brought a warmth to you; for a moment you got lost in a daydream of teaching your child how to handle themselves in the kitchen to take care of themselves. Some day you would be watching them in the kitchen like this and talking to them. Your hand came to your stomach, caressing gently.

“Kicks?” Peter asked.

You shook your head, “No. Just trying… to feel them.”

He looked concerned instantly, “Do you not feel them anymore?”

You realized how that sounded and you explained quickly, “No, I do. Often. I was just trying to right now because I wanted to. They were keeping me up last night.”

Peter relaxed and turned to pick up the tray of salmon and broccoli to put them into the oven. He moved up to stir the potatoes and curiosity got the best of you.

“Your mum teach you how to cook?” you asked him. You saw the tension across his shoulders. “I… sorry, if you don’t want to—”

“Yeah,” Peter answered, cutting you off, stirring the potatoes again. He was moving but the tension was still there. “She was a good cook.” He paused only for a moment before he said, “She always cooked for dad. Even after she left to live with Whitney and Taline. I think it was because he would rather just eat tv dinners. The way she talked about him when she was drunk though, you would wonder why she would even bother worrying about his health.”

He suddenly cleared his throat, tossing a look over his shoulder at you. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said gently. “I’m glad you’ve got the memories of cooking with her. And that you still seem to enjoy doing it.”

Peter nodded, a sad smile pulling at his lips. “Yeah… definitely. Wish those types of things had kept her around.” You furrowed your brow, confused by that statement, and he pressed on, gesturing at your stomach, “I’ll be happy to teach them how to cook. You know, whenever I’m back on breaks. Happy to carry on the tradition of family cooking. And anything else. I’m excited.”

Deciding to back off on the questions he had prodded, you agreed, “That would be great.”

<><><>

Tony snuck into the bedroom the following morning, the wood floor creaking giving him away no matter how quietly he tried to tread. You blinked away sleep, looking up at him as he undressed himself, tossing the clothing on the ground item by item. Dawn had not started to break yet, so you guessed it was before 4:30 in the morning.

He slid under the covers and bid you quietly, “Go back to sleep. Theres a couple hours yet before Sam and Peter will stir.” He closed his eyes, exhaling.

“Where were you?” you asked him in a whisper.

“Port Angeles. But I’m back now.”

“Peter was over for dinner.”

“I know. I told him to come keep you company.”

“We talked… about his mum.”

“Alright?” Tony sighed, eyes opening again, clearly annoyed the conversation was still going when he wanted to sleep.

“What happened to her?”

“She died,” Tony told you, shooting you a scrutinizing look. “You know that. I told you that the first time we met.”

“But how?”

“Why?”

“I’m curious.”

“She killed herself,” Tony said evenly.

That is what you had feared when Peter had said what he had about her sticking around.

“Peter is used to screwy women, you see. So, you’re nothing new and why he swallowed it so easily when I told him what I did about your mental state. And that’s why he’s doing his best to keep you happy. I’m honestly quite happy with how protective he became of you and the babe after hearing that.”

“You’re happy you emotionally manipulated your son?” you asked him, your voice above a whisper now.

Sighing again, louder this time, Tony exasperated, “Will you just sleep? You don’t need to be worrying about this. Gina was off her rocker and offed herself. It’s done. And I need some sleep before the smell of food cooking wakes me up. Peter brought bacon didn’t he?”

Swallowing your disgust at what he had said, you told him stiffly, “Yes.”

“Good,” Tony said. “That’ll be good. Get some more sleep. You know the doctor told you to make sure you got a full 8 hours. Plus, we want to be well rested for Peter’s birthday, right?”

He turned away from you, ending the conversation physically. You pursed your lips, staring at his frame in the twilight. He did not speak or move further. Exhaling sharply, you adjusted your pillow, trying to settle back down.

So. She escaped him, but it was in tragedy. That was sure to give you pleasant dreams, you thought to yourself sourly.

<><><>

Tony was not in the bed when you awoke next, much to your surprise. The smell of food was coming in through the crack of the door and you surmised that is what had wakened you. Getting out of bed groggily, you padded to the door and threw it open. Tony was playing some music quietly on the radio as he worked. He looked down the hall as you approached towards the bathroom. The door was closed, and you stepped back.

“Peter, hurry up!” Tony hollered towards the door over his shoulder. “Y/N needs to use the bathroom.”

“You don’t—” you started to tell Tony, but Peter suddenly swung the door open, his hair damp. He was in fresh clothes and smelled of cedar. You shrugged, “Sorry, you didn’t have to rush.”

“I wasn’t. I was just standing here spacing out, no need for me to be in here anymore.”

“Happy birthday!” you told him, your arms open.

He smiled, welcoming your hug. “Thank you!” before letting you go into the bathroom to use it.

Washing your hands vigorously, you looked at yourself in the mirror. One thing about pregnancy was you could not complain about your skin. It was healthy and practically glowed; you thought back to what Thor said about telling women that because it made them feel better.

Outside the bathroom, you heard Peter let out a whoop of excitement.

“For me? That’s it?” you heard him exclaim before the sound of a chair being shoved back rang out. They were going outside, that much you could discern by the direction their footfalls were going. Specifically, the front door. “I can’t believe it!”

Turning the water off, you dried your hands quickly, trying to see what all the excitement was about. In the hall, you went towards the front door, finding it wide open. You were standing at an open door unguarded, and you moved towards it, testing boundaries. No one was telling you to stop and make sure you stayed inside. At the door frame, you hesitated for a few seconds before stepping over the threshold and walking out onto the porch.

You realized what Peter was so excited about and you felt your stomach drop to the ground.

Peter was hugging Tony tightly before pulling away again and going back towards the car.

“Wow!” he exclaimed again, running his hands over the paint. “This is going to be perfect!”

You came down the stairs to the gravel, staring at the car before you. The same one you had asked Tony what had become of it and been given curt answers.

“Is that my car?” you asked flabbergasted, even though you already knew the answer to that. Your voice startled Tony, Sam, and Peter, them not having heard you approach.

Peter’s face immediately fell, looking between you and Tony. Suddenly, he pulled away from the car, hands falling, as if he had reservations about touching it any further.

“Yeah, about that,” Tony responded calmly. “I got the parts when I was in town yesterday to fix it. And I fixed it up without charging you the cost for the parts and even have $400 here for you considering that’s what the difference is between the worth of the car and what the parts cost to fix it.” You stared at his outstretched hand for only a moment before he retracted his hand and stuffed the wad back into his pocket. “I’ll keep a hold of it for safe keeping in my safe here though.”

You were slack jawed, not able to form words at what was happening. Peter was going to be leaving and taking your car with him when he went to school. As far fetched as the dream had been to drive the car away from here yourself since it had been broken down was, the mere thought of it not even being around was enough to make you nauseous.

“I… I don’t want to take her car if she still wants it,” Peter stated, breaking the awkward silence.

“She doesn’t want it,” Tony said firmly, his eyes burning into you. Just daring you to challenge him.

“It…” you said weakly.

“It what?” Tony asked, a menacing glint to his eye.

“It’s mine,” you said, still weakly.

His nostrils flared. You had disappointed him.

“Peter. Sam. You mind stepping inside?” Tony asked them sharply, his whole body on edge.

Nodding stiffly, Peter moved around the car, skirting any physical contact with it. He came up to the porch and gave you a wide of berth as possible. He shot you an uncomfortable look though when he passed for a moment, before going up the stairs and closing the front door behind him and Sam to give you and Tony privacy out here.

Tony came up close and you asked, desperation lacing your tone, “Why are you giving him my car?”

“It’s his birthday, Y/N,” he spat at you. “Don’t ruin this for him. You knew you were not getting that car back. You’re not that delusional. What use do you have for it?”

“But it’s mine!” you said more forcibly, tears stinging. “I bought it myself! I took care of it! I was going to—”

“You were going to what? You were going to do what exactly, Y/N? Drive away with it?” Tony asked mockingly before snorting. “Maybe you are that delusional. Look, here are your options. Either you stop throwing the tantrum and let Peter enjoy his new car, which means he will be ever so grateful to you. Or you keep throwing the tantrum and I disappoint the hell out of the kid and tell him that you’re selling it to someone else and he ends up resenting you because he’ll have to have me drop him off at school and he won’t be able to drive back home on the weekends if he wants to see his family, especially his new sibling. I don’t think you want him to end up disliking you. It’s nice having him around isn’t it?”

Tony stared you down, waiting expectantly for you to say something. Your hands were clenched, your fingernails digging into the flesh of your palms.

When you said nothing, Tony told you, “I think you should see this as an opportunity to get even closer to the kid. Your relationship strengthens, Peter gets to drive around future girlfriends, I get to look like the cool dad, and also be less worried that you’re going to drive off a cliff on me in some depressive episode. Everybody wins something. You understand?” You said nothing and he repeated, “You understand?”

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Good. When he comes back outside, try not to look upset. Can you do that?” Tony asked you firmly. You nodded, tears still wetting your eyes. “You can start by making sure you aren’t crying. Dead give away that you are in fact, quite sad.”

You turned your head, wiping at your eyes. After a few moments, Tony took a few steps back from you and called out towards the house, “Peter! Come out here!”

You heard the door open and his hesitant footsteps on the porch coming closer. He stepped down onto the gravel and was closeby. You shot him a look and forced a smile.

“Sorry. Just a little… emotional,” you lied through your teeth. “I apologize.”

Peter returned a forced smile. “Right. Well…”

You gestured at the car, “Go look. The driver’s seat is really comfortable.”

That seemed to grant him the permission and he walked towards the car, making for the driver’s side to take your advice.

Through the tears you were still trying to swallow, you realized Tony had admitted just exactly how Peter’s mum had killed herself when he was caught up in his own emotions. You studied his profile as he watched Peter looking at the car. You could not tell if the tenseness lining his frame was because of the stand off you had just had or because he was worried about his son driving alone without his supervision. You were annoyed with yourself for even caring a little bit about what the answer was.

~~~

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[undiscovered-horizon]

Can i ask for a dark! Peter Parker that is super clingy?

[TW: mentions of suicide, self-harm, unhealthy relationships, involuntary drug consumption]

>>500 followers special!<<

Clingy Dark!Peter Parker

It's exam season and I'm panicking how's life going for yall

Clingy Peter is like a koala bear

Just hangs on to you and doesn't let go

Except that koala bear is completely unhinged, so more like a drop bear really

Two weeks into the relationship he was ready to get married tbh

Has he drugged you to cuddle you a little longer? Most definitely

More than once probably, rip your liver

Would deliberately hurt himself to have your attention

"Pretends" to be a danger to himself

(he already is, just tends to embellish it with very dramatic acting)

"I don't want to hurt myself when you're around"

Definitely has threatened/hinted that he would kill himself as a last resort to have you stay with him -> not necessarily in a break-up situation, even a "it's late and I should go home" situation

Fake crying/meltdown/breakdown so you hug him

"No, no, no, don't leave me!"

You were just going to the store

If you pay too much attention to someone else, even a relative, he goes through a legitimate depressive episode

If he doesn't have your undivided attention he will make up a wild story to have you pity love him

His hand is constantly on or around you

Gets fidgety and irritable when you're not around

Camps out outside the bathrooms waiting for you but only because you started a fight once about a grown man going into the women's restroom

Whatever you're doing, wherever you're going, he's coming with you

Your friends regularly point out how unhealthy that is, so Peter gets quietly angry: he can't have you believe them

He might or might not have bludgeoned some of them into a near-death state

The blood on him is because he hurt himself and he needs your attention...right?

If you manage to hang out on your own or with someone, Peter's stalking you without a doubt

If you don't text/call him back right away, he starts to genuinely panic

Scares away any man you know (the ancient art of threats, blackmailing and caving someone's face in), maybe except for a male parental figure if you have one - it would be very counter-productive to have your parents/guardians wary of him

I feel like he would easily worm his way into your mother's/female parental figure's heart with that sheepish look he has

Asks if you still love him like three times a day at least

Stalks your social media and gets upset at any mention/picture that involves someone else

Peter's thoughts would spiral if you as much as don't give him a forehead kiss first thing in the morning

For him it's an immediate sign you're probably angry or hate him and that's he's not good enough and you love someone else and-

No, you're just still sleepy and detached from reality

If you're anything but chipper he's preparing for you to confess your hatred towards him, which, let's be honest, is not going to happen anytime soon

His hugs crush bones and suffocate, Peter's like a scared toddler holding a teddy bear

Which is a pretty good analogy, really: he's terrified of you leaving him (in any sense of the word) and he's convinced that aside from you there is nothing worth living for

If you're just doing some chores around the house, he's either helping you or following you around

You could be cooking or ironing and he's just standing there, back hugging you silently

Because of his clearly unstable emotional state, you developed a habit of frequently telling him you love him and asking him if he's okay

Peter's a huge fan of that

You can barely talk to anyone without him getting upset, so he's easily alienating you from your social circles

_______

@restingbitchsblog

[buckyalpine]

Winter soldier x reader ft sex pollen

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

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

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

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

Pathetic little bunny.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wasn't the soldier.

He was-

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

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

"I'm-

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

"B-Bucky"

-

[simplyholl]

A Night With The Winter Soldier

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

Pairing: F. Reader x Winter Soldier Bucky

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

See My Masterlist Here

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tags

@lokisgoodgirl @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @cakesandtom @eleniblue @marygoddessofmischief @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @wheredafandomat @freegardenbanananeck @lokidokieokie @l0ki3000 @multifandom-worlds @alexakeyloveloki @ladymischief11 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr @lamentis-10 @loz-3 @litaloni @lulubelle814 @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @avengersfan25 @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @mybugabomlb @bunny24sstuff @luthien-elvenia-asher @gruftiela @asgards-princess-of-mischief @weirdothatwritess

[swaqcenix]

The Devil was an Angel First | N. Romanoff

Natasha Romanoff x fem!stripper reader

≿━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━≾

Summary: It was a risk and a job worth taking, simply use your ability to seduce to earn enough money to get you your university degree. Yet you didn't anticipate the owner of the strip-club to take a significant interest in you, but what can she do? As soon as Natasha saw you, you were hers.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x!fem stripper reader, employee x boss, forbidden romance

Warnings: 18+, slight dark!natasha romanoff, manipulation, strip-teasing, lap-dancing, pole-dancing, fingering, semi-public sex, oral (n to r), mommy kink, strap-on, choking,degrading, over-stimulation, handcuffs and toys, reader is easily manipulated!

Word Count: 9K

AN: This is heavily inspired by the song Pray by Xana, you could listen to it while reading this to get an extra bit of the atmosphere ;)) Also I wil be taking small requests or drabbles for this specific fic/pairing as I'm secretly addicted to this concept.. (not so secretly.)

≿━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━≾

Slipping amongst the crowds, your eyes dart around the room as the sounds of the club itself echo through your body. The lighting was illuminating each corner of the room, but stopping in certain bleak shadow's contrasting well with those who put on a performance.

The smell of slick sweat and hot bodies mingling through the room made your nose twitch through instinct and it was around this time your mind was wondering whether this was the right call.

University had been always your major goal in life, pass through High-school get your qualifications and your grades, just don't fuck up. For most of your life you'd remained hidden in the shadows, contempt to live life remaining hidden away while the flashlight of beams hit the sky's ground touching everything but yourself.

Yet apparently life deemed it not apparent that this was the case for you. Instead when your family collided into debuts and the household becoming a simply standing memory of what once was and never could be's you knew the longing for snatching your degree's up in higher education was slipping like fog and air through your fingers.

Would that be a common knowledge concept and reality to turn towards darker paths? Well, darker in regards to your family's eye-line anyway. You simply saw it as an opportunity for people who enjoyed doing things their own way, their own style and didn't wish to follow into the lights of the sky like others we're unique.

Your family wouldn't be appreciating your actions but it didn't matter. It realistically couldn't no matter how much they perhaps frowned at the idea. You could perhaps go into depth of how it wasn't selling your body but allowing it to be seen, allowing others to get a taste of the salt and the the aroma of flavours their hearts desire, but never fully satisfied.

Pole-Dancing wasn't something you'd be opposed to doing by any means. Watching the way they drift through the air, holding onto the bar with such pristine confidence and high agility hit your stomach in all the right ways. Nimble and soft fingers holding onto the pole with such grace their body's dancing into the fire of the night, other's moving with grace and affirmation.

The men and women watching their every action their every step with such a wide eye their lustful thoughts screaming with such a power your own ears rang. Black stiletto's clinging to the poles with a strength that made you doubt your own abilities despite having the darkest of secrets lingering on thoughts.

Quiet girls always tend to have the deepest of desires, the fieriest of personality. The set determination on being quiet, being forgotten and not wanting to be seen always portrays just how difficult life could dance around in a sea of wonder and mystery.

The air smelt so much of blood sweat and tears, the smoke driving the fuel into everyone's body, an ignition lighting up. You turned towards the bar deciding to opt on a drink, probably a hardcore whiskey if you wanted to get through this alive and sane, the burning feeling would ground you heavily to reality.

Turning on your heels, your contrasting deep-blood heels clacked heavily on the floor, treading with a walk that helped you do the one thing you'd avoided doing. Being seen.

Eyes watched, heads tilted and words of whisper drifted across the room as you brought the attention away from the other worker's sensing some hard glares and other longing looks. It was no secret you had the looks, it was just never in your cards, not your line of sight, but the devil didn't always play with fire until pushed within the flames.

"Whiskey neat please," your voice was firm and held no conversation for an argument.

The barman glanced at you and you simply watched as his eyes glanced at you, looking you up and down. You could practically feel the budge in his pants grow from here and the self-refraining you were doing from rolling your eyes was repulsing.

You weren't about to start off your first time in this place by pissing off the men you could encounter more often in telling them you not into indulging in their acts. Explaining to men who couldn't understand the word no when it comes to simply not being interested in them was not a path you cared to go down for the time being, instead settling on biting your tongue.

Sure, it didn't mean you couldn't make some impressions around here though. You'd already made a rather splendid entrance by sauntering around capturing lingering eyes of the men and women which allowed your red tinted lips to tilt upwards.

The barman worked nimbly, his hands being heavy but not without meaning as he flipped bottles around like he was performing an act. Normally this would entice most women to jump for joy and use some ogle eyes towards him. However, you were in fact not most women, you simply walked through the world of shadows until you decided to finally allow the light to kiss your skin in all the right areas.

He slowly slid the drink down to you as you tossed him the dollar bills owed and sauntered off in means to find the owner of this establishment. The music moved above you like puppet's on a string as you did your best to try and move through the blinding strobe lights and bodies mingling into one.

Guessing that the owner would find you before you found them, your body decided to make it's way over to a table waiting for them to arrive with introductions, you crossed your legs simply playing with the bottom of the whiskey glass, swirling it around for play as you chucked it down your throat.

The feeling of the burn hit you instantly and you squinted for a moment before a heavy sigh escaped the opening of your lips leaning back in the chair once again becoming one with the shadows. Besides the demons in everyone else's heads seemed to be having their own rituals one of which you weren't enticed on indulging in such acts.

The approaching sound of heels made your body almost churn with anxiety for reasons currently unknown to you.

The approaching sound of heels made your body almost churn with anxiety for reasons currently unknown to you. Doing well to not attract attention you glanced through your glass trying to picture who was approaching and a flash of red curls took through the reflection.

Your lips tilted upwards in a mischievous smirk as you leaned back in your seat, a feeling of excitement coursing through your veins. Your mind wandered as you presumed the mystery woman was approaching ready to allure you into sinful acts of seduction and dance through desire into the night.

Instead, what was not predicted was the black stiletto heels coming to a stand still right behind your table, a hot and heavy breath lingering in your ear. Your body tensed and you felt the smirk dripping from the woman behind you as you tilted your head turning around to be met with someone who should be the devil in disguise, one to lure you entirely out of the shadows and touch the fires to ignite you entirely.

"You must be Y/N. Y/LN. I am Natasha Romanoff, Miss Romanoff to you. Owner of Desiring ignition. I will interview you in the back rooms if you don't mind?" her voice asking a question but orders slipping from the sinful tongue.

Your body moved before your lips did and you found yourself following after the redhead like an obedient dog, for a minute forgetting yourself entirely and not thinking, just acting like a string was tugging you along.

Her red hair was distinctive even against the darkened tone of the room, the lights dimming in and out didn't affect it as it shone like fire and ash, the devil reincarnated you knew. Her hips swayed with an intent to drive a man wild but in a way she didn't wish for any of them, simply alluding to her own intoxicating beauty, poison and toxic.

The eyes followed you both and you scampered after her down a neon-purple hallway, the colour's almost blinding you within a trance. Finding your bearings you knew you'd need to pull yourself together if you wanted this job so decided to play in the same game, the same chess board. Play with the devil.

Her hands clasped tightly around the handle as Miss Romanoff lead you into what you presumed to be her office before shutting the door behind her. The noise seemed to almost be drowned out now, as though she'd installed noise cancellation into her office.

Your eyes scanned the room trying to analyse and get anything you could on this woman. You'd always liked to get to know someone through their surroundings and what that said person associates themselves with, especially if it works in your favour.

The office itself was dimly lit but well cleaned and decorated minimally. To your left there was a desk, mahogany coloured with 2 chairs on ether side, the desk holding files that your eyes couldn't capture from the distance you stood. A solemn picture held itself strongly on the desk of what you could make out to be a younger blonde woman, perhaps the same age as you or a couple years older.

The redhead nodded her head towards the chair on the other side of her desk, before sitting down on a black leather one herself. Even sat down in the dimly lit office you could tell she was a woman of business, not one to be meddled with nor to cross without paying the price which for yourself was bad given your track record of loving to stir the pot.

Her eyes lingered over your own for a while examining you, looking you up and down in a way your body almost jolted at the sheer intensity of her gaze. Not wanting to keep the older woman wanting any longer, your feet moved on the own accord sitting down on the chair opposite of her. Her posture was still up straight, impossibly held and elegant opposite of your own.

"So," she began by looking through your files as though you'd be arrested under a warrant issued for the most wanted criminal.

"You've got good grades from schools, a track record of not seeming to show herself within public eye and even held debates and meetings within clubs. Your jobs previously consist of coffee shops and waiting so what exactly is it you have to offer here," she stated her voice was laced with disdain and annoyance.

"Well that's correct yes, but I have goals in life and things I need to achieve. I can't get there without doing this first, trust me it's a last resort," you replied cringing inwardly at your response.

It was a stupid mistake you'd created by saying this job was a last resort. That would be the last thing this goddess of a pain was waiting to hear, especially when wanting to employ you. You'd fucked up royally but like she stated, you had a tendency for debate clubs and there was nothing better you were good at than worming you way into or out of situations.

Her eyebrows shot upwards at your response and you watched with fear as the redhead perused her lips together eyeing you once again with a look of utter irritation.

"So you see us as a last resort?" She asked stiffly.

"No, nothing like that-" you tried to reason but her hand waved in the air dismissing your comment before you'd began.

"Y/L/N. Do you know how many people come here asking for jobs hm?" Her head titled to the side lips twitching while watching you squirm.

"No..."

"Over 200. How many do you reckon we employ exactly?"

The venom and toxic poison in her voice almost sent you spiralling you couldn't help but feel entirely hooked on it. Yet the feeling in your mind told you to run, leave before you headed down the road of embarrassment and utter danger.

"I'm not sure, Miss Romanoff," you voice was surprisingly even for someone being scolded in a private office room.

"The answer is 4% out of those 200 get employed. Yet, a silly girl like you walks along struts in like she owns the fucking place and says it's a last resort," she taps her finger on the side of her face mockingly.

"No.. I can dance and I'm incredibly talented on a pole," you tried to reason but she once again shushed you in a dismissive tone.

"You're dismissed off you go," she shooed you off and your legs stood by themselves your mind no longer in control of your body.

As your body walked towards the door head daring not to look back your hands went towards the door handle, before lingering on the metal for a moment. Your mind danced away thinking of thoughts and how you couldn't give up so easily. You came in this bar, this strip-club looking for a job and you'd be damned to go without one. Sure the woman behind you was a stole cold bitch, but she came with fire. You had the gasoline to set this place alight.

Turning on your heels, you faced the older woman who went from looking down at her files with disinterest to whipping her head up. Miss Romanoff tilted her head to the side as you approached with a surge of confidence that you didn't know you had running through your veins setting your blood alight. Your body leaning over her desk you smirked as she watched and you could sense her tense beneath you.

"Let me show you what I can do," your voice was whispered with sultry and laced with such confidence that was missing moments ago.

The redhead thought for a moment, her lips twitching ever so slightly at the sides before tilting up. She removed herself from her chair carrying her composure elegantly as ever before entering your personal space.

"Be my guest, show me what you can do," she smirked.

Before you could even blink, Miss Romanoff snatched your hand and lead you out of her office towards one of the unoccupied rooms. The sparks you felt when her hand clasped your hand and rising towards your wrist jolted your stomach giving you somersault's.

She on the other hand, snatched her hand away as quickly as she took it and you weren't sure why that caused such a sting within you. The older woman wasn't required to touch you in any way, but her response was as though she'd been burnt in opposition to your own body's reaction wanting to feel her touch ignite you more.

Suddenly the vast realisation of reality crashed down on you and your stomach churned in thought. Your mindset couldn't be thinking this type of way in any shape or form towards someone who could perhaps be your boss. This wasn't about to become some cliche film style where you fuck your boss, you couldn't give her that style of power.

Yet, as you let your mind indulge further in thoughts, she wasn't your boss. Not yet and not now, besides if you wanted this job a thirst to prove yourself to the flames of hell as she was, you were going to have to join the game.

Heading further down the hall, Natasha stopped at the door to her left and you titled your head in anticipation. The feeling of not knowing what you could possibly find was always thrilling yet had an edge of dread that filled your lungs and ran through your veins.

Observing her silently, you watched the redhead slip out a singular key from her pocket before slipping it with ease into the lock and turning it. Her hand which you tried definitely too hard to not focus on wrapped around the handle turning it before standing to the side awaiting you to head inside.

Silently entering the room, you found yourself coming to a sudden halt at the sight that stood before you. A singular pole stood in the middle of the room, tall and with a bolden look about it almost calling to you begging you to dance upon it. Towards the corner of the room lay what you predicted to be a lot of BDSM toys ranging from handcuffs and blindfolds to nipple clamps and leg spreaders.

Your cheeks flushed heavily at the sight as heat ran through your body and you found yourself turning away from the toys, eyes instead landing on a chaise lounge. The furniture was a deep red, crimson in fact darkened like the blood flushing heavily through your veins, perhaps darker than Ms Romanoff's hair. Turning your head in her direction you realised she'd been watching your reaction as you absorbed and gawked at the room, causing you to flush even further.

The older woman simply smirked at you before making her way over to the chaise lounge, looking you up and down in what you originally thought was a judgmental look now seemed otherwise, before sitting with determination down onto the chair.

For a moment it was silence as she only stared at you examining you for a mere moments that felt like hours before rolling her eyes and scoffing. Her hand raised upwards as her index finger- that looked incredible you might add- came out and directed at the pole giving you a pointed look. Realisation hit your face and you realised what the redhead was asking of you, which caused all sorts of emotions to run through your head.

She was asking you to to give a full example of how you'd dance within her club, within her line of work and show yourself. Normally this wouldn't be a bother as you'd come to a damn strip-club for god sake, but it was the idea of dancing alone with her that sent your nerves spiralling and your body shaking beneath you.

Still, there was no point in arguments, you'd been the one to suggest showing her, but in hopes of a more lively atmosphere. Instead Miss. Romanoff had lead you to a secluded room one of which held what you predicted secrets hiding within the 4 walls for you to dance in.

Sucking in a tight breath you closed your eyes tightly shut counting to 3 before opening them once more. Getting your bearings around you, you strutted to the pole making sure to remove the jacket that clung tightly to your skin hugging you in all the right places. The jacket was placed to the side of Natasha and you tried not to smirk too much at the feeling of her eyes travelling over your form.

Her body stood up, walking over to a speaker in the corner causing you body to tense up slightly. If it was too loud it was sure to cause an uproar of attention that in this current moment you didn't want. Your mind was too focused on earning the approval and the full attention of the redhead selfishly to yourself despite wishing that you didn't indulge in such sinful acts.

You removed your pants, leaving yourself in only your polo shirt and underwear, trying your best not to make any sort of contact with her. You could have done pole-dancing in your pants but it wasn't a risk worth taking if you didn't want any slip ups and needed the grip. Instead you walked over to the pole closing your eyes tightly before opening them and glancing over at Miss Romanoff.

Her head was tilted to the side and you were almost convinced her eyes that you noticed earlier were the shade of emerald green like the piercing ground of earth were almost charcoal now, luring you into the mist of hazing sinful creatures and touching the igniting flame. Instead of contemplating thoughts any longer you let out a mere nod towards the older woman and she smirked turning on a song that widened your eyes as, girls girls girls by FLETCHER began to echo through the room.

Trying to once again ignore the intriguing implications behind the song you stepped forward flexing your hand back and forth continuously before gripping onto the pole tightly with your left hand. Your fingers curled instinctively around the metal bar and you cleared your mind. One of the first things you'd learnt about dancing and when understanding how to use the effective ways of pole-dancing was don't think just act.

You let your mind carry through the music eliciting the illusions of thoughts and song's as your body carried you through. You started off smoothly, swinging your way seductively around the pole keeping your outside leg straight before pivoting your inside foot at the same time.

Your mind carried through song as the beat's began to pick up, your outside foot worked through muscle memory hooking around the pole before your other joined gripping tightly.

As soon as you felt your body securely fitted on the pole your hips moved in ways of wonder as though art itself couldn't touch through paintings of masterpieces. Your back arched and your hip swayed in beat swinging yourself around the pole before your body flipped itself in ways of wonder, dancing and spinning with everything it had.

The song slowly began to draw to a close and it was then your eyes chose to linger from being shut as you made your distinctive signature move, swinging yourself around with a grace you didn't know was within you. Your body swung from the top to the bottom of the pole in the most seductive way possible as your fingers crossed over, before your eyes drifted to the red head.

It took everything within you not to let out a shit-eating grin when you noticed the gawking from Miss Romanoff who looked like she was ready to eat you up whole. Given any other circumstances you would have flushed or felt self-conscious, but instead you embraced the feeling of confidence as you gently slithered off the pole a laugh almost sliding past your lips.

You sauntered over to the older woman, teasing leaning over her body to grab your jacket only to be yanked down onto the couch. You felt the blood run course through your body you heart pounding so loudly you'd not be surprised if she could hear it herself. The room came to a heated silence, the tension thick and easily cut with a knife. Natasha's hand came up to cup your jaw tilting it to the side almost as though she wanted to judge that part of you too, or better yet distract herself from what she was initially going to do.

"Tomorrow, 8:30pm your shift will begin. I recommend not arriving late, or better yet arrive earlier to prepare yourself. You work hours will differ but tomorrow you'll be finishing at 3:30am. Understand sweetheart?" Her voice husked out and you were almost putty in her hands once more.

Your head nodded unconsciously, the primal instinct in you roaring to obey your now boss's instructions. The feeling of disgust ran through your body at the realisation of what you'd just performed despite it being your job area now. It wasn't the fact you'd pole-danced it was the secluded room and the song that made your body squirm.

The redhead seemed to thrive in amusement on that power and you weren't sure whether the heat that ran to your core was feelings you wished you didn't have or anger that turned into the feeling of lust, perhaps both. Her hand tightened on your chip ever so slightly to the point you thought her nails may cause intends within your skin, marking like a hot poker within it.

"Oh no, none of that. You use words to me okay? So do you understand dorogaya?" her tone showed no time from you for disagreement.

"Yes, I understand Miss. Romanoff," your voice was strong and assertive despite inside your body was a mess of sweat and utter chaos.

Natasha leaned back, stretching her arms across the couch staring at you for a moment before taking her lip between her teeth, clamping down hard. The sight was enough to send a hot gush of wetness between your legs and your mind screamed at you in retaliation, she was your boss. Her teeth gently let her lips go with a pop before standing up and walking up to the door, swinging it open with ease staring back at you with an expected look.

"Good girl," she whispered out her lips tilting up dangerously as your fixed your tousled hair that had become slightly damaged from dancing.

Your body reacted once more to the words almost jolting in response, but you did well to keep yourself refrained and intact. Instead you simply grabbed your belongings nodding towards the woman and headed straight for the main exit. Perhaps the acts you were prepared to partake in was deemed as sinful and immoral, you wouldn't give so much as a glance if they were. It felt like the devil was standing their glaring into your soul and you didn't care for anything else other than entering the gates and feeling the flames wrap around your body.

The next evening went as smooth as it could, the blasting of the music as your body danced in between of time to the tunes. Your personal favourite was the one's that went sensual before picking pace as it allowed you to do your signature moved before flaunting around people in a seductive manner. You'd thrived on how the men and women gawked at your, eyes popping out of their heads, drooling from the mouth like you were a treat they had to have.

Fellow colleague's had taken up on asking advice, specifically your new favourite Wanda who you added on further inspection was quite a looker. The way she'd bounce her brunette curls around her face as she danced into the night like nobody was watching always had you admiring her.

She herself had wanted tips from you, always seemingly interested by your dancing to the way you move on a pole, her eyes always lingering in sheer awe and amazement as though you personally had placed each star drifting through the sky. Yet, you always felt another pair of eyes, heavy and dark lingering in the shadows.

It was the type of shadow you'd spent your whole life hiding within but this aspect was dangerous. It felt cold mixed with fire alike, bonding in ways it shouldn't mix. The soul being ice and chilled to the bone with fire in the centre waiting to burn itself from the ground up. You constantly sensed the lingering eyes on your body but chose to ignore it, for you knew the consequences of the danger, you knew who those eyes belonged to you just couldn't face them to admit it.

It continued for the next week until Saturday came faster than anticipated. Your legs carried you through the building with ease and a sense of calm now almost as though you'd been there for years. In reality you'd become rather content with the building of Desiring ignition. You'd scarcely interacted with Natasha though, (thank god.)

It wasn't the exact concept of fearing the woman, no it wasn't that. It was the way she made you feel. It was like feeling towards the devil, it's forbidden you see red with anger, lust the picture painted of danger and intoxicating aroma.

You'd done well in avoiding the older woman but she did appear to be making it easer than anticipated, despite knowing the one hiding in the shadows, lingering not wishing to be seen but knowing you felt her presence seemed to enough for the older woman.

You had settled on something different this time, usually not opting for dresses preferring to dress loose but certainly stylish all the same. However this time, you'd decided to rock the boat and you weren't sure why.

Instead you'd settled on a deep emerald green, darkened than usual but curved around your body clinging in all the right ways. The anticipation and adrenaline of the reactions you'd receive left your mind racing, despite not wanting to show anything off entirely. Definitely not for her..

Directing yourself towards the bar, you walked over greeting who you'd now become accustomed to know as Bucky. He actually was opposing to what you expected after your encounter on the first night, he was just hesitant of newcomers. Instead now you'd become close to the man always offering a term of greeting.

"Same as usual?" He questioned winking as you both knew it was wrong to drink on the job.

Albeit it was hardly your fault, when it came to this job and work environment you'd hardly be faulted for having the odd drink to get by. Most days we're enjoyable, the women ogling over you and many wanting to touch what their desired hearts couldn't reach, like seeing a pebble in the ocean before the sea carries it out, perfectly sculpted but not yours to own.

Your lips curved up into a smirk filled with fire and mischief, the look of mystery plastered all over your face. Not a word spoken, your head nodded into his direction and Bucky nodded once in return. His body moved swiftly, preparing a small yet rather what the average person would deem an intoxicating strong drink for yourself as he slid it over.

Taking your drink you sipped away at it as you made your way onto the floor, seemingly into the sea of people. It was busy & you only knew it was going to get busier. Besides; you had an hour to kill before even remotely starting your shift so you might as well busy yourself.

It started simple, sitting down mingling with guests, eyeing up who was necessarily your desire for the night. All you needed was the money, even with the weighing guilt that sometimes poured over your head you needed to make your way into the world.

God only knows how you'd found yourself onto the dance floor, one moment you were sipping on your drink waiting for the beginning of your shift the next you were dragged onto the dance floor by a taller and seemingly older brunette. Her hands were dragging across your waist causing your face to flush.

Were you sure you were entirely within protocols here? Not at all, yet there was no rules you couldn't dance with the paying guests before your own night began. Though you were indeed certain Miss. Romanoff may cause some issues with this.

Alcohol wasn't even the reason for your confidence, it felt like something was drawing you to push boundaries that night to tempt yourself into desired that you shouldn't cross. You could say you don't bring your guests into the bedsheets like you do your demons but as the brunette's hands grazed across your stomach for a moment you short circuited.

You found your head tilting an angle towards Bucky's direction who was eyeing you with a concerned expression painted upon his face. His frown that narrowed through his forehead, eyes giving a dangerous tone, almost trying to warn you.

Still, you shrugged it off instead allowing the touch of another burn your skin though whether it was a burn of desire or the burn of hell you weren't sure. You were playing with the fires of lucifer here & partially enjoying yourself. Lips grazed slightly over your neck, almost allowing you to loose yourself instantly without a sudden care or thought.

People were silencing around you within beats of the music, like a chill had passed down from a frost bite. They were parting like royalty had arrived themselves, but you were completely unaware in your own mindset in your own thoughts.

Lips grazed your neck sloppily, yet it burnt like an ignition hell fire in your skin. Yet your mind was dancing somewhere else or better yet, someone else. It was like someone snapped a finger, as within a second like you'd blinked an eye and the warmth from behind you disappeared.

Widening your eyes, you opened them but a hand snatched you spinning you straight into a body. You stumbled forward legs like jelly, hands still shaking with adrenaline as their perfume invaded your senses. It was a sexy perfume smell no doubt, the aroma making it's way into your nose poisoning you. You'd almost breathed in, wanting more of the intoxicating taste of it, yet that wouldn't be ve-

Shit. Shit, shit shit.

If your suspicions were correct, which you were highly convinced they were then the perfume and the person you'd been dragged into was someone you dreaded finding you in that compromising position. A whisper drew you from the dread in the pit of your stomach and your stressing mindset as they leaned towards you.

"Enjoying yourself darling?" The voice carried the familiar edge you dreaded.

The feeling of bile rose in your throat from sheer anxiety and you gulped hard to keep yourself at bay. Slowly looking up, your eyes met the all too familiar green ones.. One's you could get lost in and fantasise about consi-

No, not to be thought of right now.

Her eyebrows were arched consistently and the familiar look of a stern facial expression was painted on your Boss's, Miss. Romanoff's face. Her lips were painted a blood deep red and the blush on her cheeks were making your legs like jelly, let alone your stomach's feeling of somersaults.

"I..." Stuttering voices was all you could muster right now.

A swift finger placed on your lips was all it took for your cheeks to hear up and you were certainly an embarrassing jumble of mess in front of her and everyone around you.

"Shh," her voice carried an authoritative tone but you were almost certain you could sense a lace of.. jealousy?

Surely that was an impossibility; she had nothing to be jealous about besides she was your boss, albeit a damn sexy one. Reality hitting back to you slowly you sensed the tension in the room could be cut with a knife and wanted in that moment for the ground to swallow you whole.

Gone was that confident attitude you easily found yourself mustering up to her, instead replaced with a timid jealous woman wanting nothing more but to run for your life. Your eyes didn't dare leave hers despite their sea of pure intensity and fire, though you didn't think you were capable of looking away even if you tried to.

A quick flick of her hand could be seen from your peripheral vision and as if someone had press play on a remote, the crowds resumed. Colleagues danced on laps, poles and bar stools while the noise resumed like they'd been frozen in time.

Before you even had the chance to speak, you were spun back around rather forcefully. However rather than letting you go, her hands yanked you flush against her chest, allowing you to feel her radiant body heat and the heat to come back to your cheeks once more.

Hands roamed over your body while her lips moved to your ear, a sultry almost lustful voice following suite.

"Well well, what was that little stunt hm? Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for private shows not giving a full on public display of borderline sex," she snapped though her hands still cupped your hips.

"I.. I can explain..."

Her hands cupped your clothed cunt causing you to cut your sentence off and gasp out. Embarrassingly, your body jerked forward into her hand showing how putty you were, easily giving into your boss.

"No, no I don't think so. You wanted a public stunt like that hm? Who's breasts are these?"

Her hand moved up to cup them, needing them through your dress causing you to almost cry out. You couldn't lie, you were grateful for the atmosphere being so loud and disoriented otherwise you'd have cried out from sheer embarrassment.

"M-Mine," you whispered through a half gasp earning you to feel her knee rub you subtly once more in your lower region.

"Wrong answer, don't get it wrong again hm?" She said through semi-gritted teeth and your body melted back into her.

Unsure of the adrenaline you had coursing through your veins you spun around and found some form of confidence in you to cup her own lower region.

"Yours," you whisper-shouted back due to the strength of the music, though your voice partially wavered.

It was obvious she was caught off guard through the sheer surprise that danced like the force of nature the wind dancing with the trees on a stormy night. Miss.Romanoff's lips tilted upwards into a smirk and without a word or a warning her hand clasped onto yours and you were being pulled swiftly down corridors.

Everything seemed to pass you buy in a blur as you had no recollection of one door to the next, nor did you dare to look at any faces glancing and gawking your way. Simply you decided to be an obedient little thing and follow Miss. Romanoff towards wherever she was leading you.

Suddenly, you came to a halt in front of a locked door slowly coming to the realisation this was Miss.Romanoff's personal room; no one was ever allowed to enter. A surge of some sort of excitement flooded the course of your veins in some way as she led you through.

Locking it behind her she pointed to her own personal chaise lounge and you obediently followed her instructions like a lost puppy, almost falling over your own feet to get to it. A low chuckle left her lips sending chills upon chills down your spine and embarrassingly hitting your core (that was probably now soaked.)

"Miss Romanoff I don't know if this is-"

"Natasha," she cut you off instantly smirking at you.

You gawked at the older woman like she'd just spoken in a foreign language. However she brushed it off, slowly approaching you like an animal would it's prey. Lifting your chin up she grinned down at you like a cheshire cat before huskily speaking.

"Call me Natasha. Though I'd also prefer to be called a different name, can your pretty little brain think of what that is?" She asked lustfully.

Gulping you had a smart idea, but didn't want to ask a stupid question. So you kept your mouth shut but apparently Natasha had other idea's towards your 'misbehaviour.'

"Colour," her voice was softer for a moment only by a slight tone but you sensed it.

It almost made you crack for a moment and come to your senses. An employee couldn't- shouldn't sleep with their boss. Yet, as you believed earlier the devil was technically an angel first and you wanted to touch the fire, you wanted her to touch you. However, it was evidence you were taking too long as you'd received an arched eyebrow and she grabbed you firmly by the chin awaiting her answer.

"Green but.. this is wrong you're my.."

A gasp cut you off as she placed her lips instantly on your neck biting down hard before sucking. You felt Natasha's lips trail up and down biting an area she could, knowing instantly it was going to leave a mark. Moans elicited past your lips as you found your head slowly adjusting to give more access.

She sucked and nipped at your skin like her life depended on it, it was intoxicating. She was starting a fire within you no one else could ever ignite. Natasha kissed her way back up to your face before whispering sultry into your earlobe.

"Now you want to keep your job don't you, you want to be a good girl for me?"

"Y-Yes I do Natasha," you went to move your hands in her hair when you felt something restrict you.

A deep blood red-handcuffs the same shade as her hair was holding you back and your eyes widened in realisation. The demon's in your head were fighting with each other as you felt her clamber her way into your lap.

"Now.. you're going to behave for mommy aren't you?"

She grinned at you arching an eyebrow while her plump red lips glistened under the dim lights. You couldn't bring yourself to respond to Natasha, you felt your stomach twisting in knots at the word and your brain go fuzzy.

Restriction on your neck caused your airways to tighten slightly, not too much but the pressure sent a heat to your core you didn't know could happen. She frowned at you sternly, a small crease of annoyance in between her forehead that you found dangerously hot and cute at once.

"Don't make ask twice detka, you should know in the time you've worked for me I hate repeating myself. Now be a good slut and respond."

Not wanting to face the consequences of hell knows what she'd do you nodded instantly a feeling of nervousness that was fuelled by desire and lust rising within you.

"Yes mommy, I'll behave. I promise!"

Your response pleased her, yet your brain didn't have much time to respond as a loud groan escaped your lips. The buzzing sensation pressed against your panties sent you spiralling into oblivion. Natasha captured your lips with her own, red lipstick smearing your own with a kiss, sealing your fate. Signing your soul to the devil seemed like a fate that could send anyone into a panic, but when it was Natasha Romanoff, it was pure bliss.

"Your moans are a delight to my ear sweet girl," her whispers against your lips only spurred you on further.

You found your hips grinding down against the toy your bottom lip become broken and bruised from how hard you were biting it. A small slap to the thigh sent you jolting as you looked up to see Natasha's stern look.

"You move when I tell you to move slut," she slurred out high on lust and desire and you felt a spiral of wetness shoot down to your glistening pussy that was most definitely dripping with desire.

You felt the pressure of the toy increase levels and it took you everything not to cry out in absolute ecstasy but the overwhelming stimulation, it was so intense your toes could curl.

"You're already coming undone are you for your mommy?" Natasha bit down slightly on your ear lobe her fingers trailing up to your throat once more as she whispers into your ear.

"When you lay down on the chaise lounge you'll be screaming my name tonight darling. Yet, did you honestly think that you could get away with that game Y/N?" Her voice dragged down your body as quickly as possible.

Teeth sunk into your skin, nipping sucking and licking into the depths of every single area Natasha could reach. You hands tried to fling over your mouth to muffle your moans, yet your restraining handcuffs brought you back to reality.

"They'll hear Na- Mommy," Your slip-up didn't go unnoticed as a slap to your thigh and a hard bite on your chest caused a cry out from your lips.

"Let them hear you. You wanted a show, I have every intention of giving you one."

Before your thoughts could catch up to your lips a rip echoed through the room as a strength had come from the redhead herself. Gasping as she put some pressure on your clit the intense feeling driving your body into an overwhelming feeling.

As her fingers pressed against your puffy lips you knew instantly you were getting addicted to the feeling; the ignition pushing you towards Natasha's capture. She was easily trying to capture her pray within you and you'd stupidly let her.

"Please.. I need more," You pleaded your brain foggy with lust and utter craving for Natasha in every way possible.

With a single flick of a switch you felt her turn the toy to maximum levels before her fingers were swiftly replaced with a lapping tongue. The cuffs that felt like chains kept to a wall yanked down as you tried to touch.

She spat on your clit and you felt the shit eating grin pass her lips as Natasha heard the familiar sound of tugging from them. Instead she tutted and her eyes grazed up connecting with your own, purposely dragging her tongue up your slit making you cry out from the intensity.

"You're a good girl aren't you hm? Taking your boss so well. Imagine if I got to do a public show with you.. God the way the crowds would go wild as I fucked you over and over again," Natasha lulled against your pussy.

The images dancing through your brain was sinful, absolutely disgusting to others but for some reason like you were trapped in a cage of sex you didn't care. Magic was a dangerous power and a dangerous curse yet she wheeled it all within this room, your body and your mind, your essence and soul.

As she shoved her tongue into your entrance another cry of intense joy, you weren't sure lust most definitely past your lips. Her free hand moved up to your breasts massaging the buds between her tips, sending you without permission releasing your juices all over her tongue.

Ms. Romanoff pulled back and the look on her face was not one of an impressed look, though that didn't stop her tongue swirling around her mouth getting the remaining taste left. That action alone sent another wave to your core despite the overwhelming feeling and you felt your legs like jelly simply from one round.

"Did I say you could cum?" Her voice was stern, boomed against the contrasting atmosphere of what the stench danced with sex, and sweat, desire and fire.

"I.. I didn't me-"

"Did. I. Say. You. Could. Cum?" She repeated her voice was filled with such an authoritative tone sending your mind back to your original meeting.

Had it not been for the handcuffs and the familiar stern look and not wanting any more disapproval from Natasha, you'd have coward away from embarrassment. Instead you shook your head wondering what on earth you'd gotten yourself into it wasn't like you were bound together but.. part of you lived from the excitement; she was a devil, demon of angel and hell with the need to feel her touch.

"No.. No Miss.Romanoff, you did not." Your voice rasped out exhausted from screaming already.

She stood up no word uttered and she disappeared around the back, leaving you to your thoughts for a moment. It felt like you were fucking with the goddess herself, but was it sanity? Was it safe to be sharing sheets and secrets behind closed doors? Possibly not, but her blood-red lips and curves of her body made it impossible not to fall into. A trap of love or lust, it wasn't even known to you within that sight, just the devil herself you'd taste it every-time.

A song brought you from your dancing curious thoughts, one that sent your body ice-cold and your eyes widening instantly. A song called 'Pray' You'd become one to recognise. It was a favourite with your regulars at the club. Except you hadn't quite realised Natasha herself had noticed, but you'd been proven quite wrong.

On the contrary, Natasha walked in with a thick deep red strap-on, one that was already wet ether with her spit or something else it was unknown. But, she knew and had seen it caused a rage in her she hated herself for. Yet, she had to have her way with you.

"Sit back," she ordered pleased instantly you'd complied with no sudden refusals or hesitation.

Without a warning she flung one leg over your body joined by the other leg, until she was sat in your lap straddling you. Instantly, a gut feeling surged through your veins flying through every pulse point sending a fire and ice in one through your very skin. Your suspicions were confirmed when she slowly started to move her hips on you with the strap on.

A lap-dance. A lap dance by Natasha Romanoff, your boss the fucking owner of Desiring ignition. Better yet it was with a strap on.

Her hips moved in a motion not even the most poisonous temptations of the world could, but Natasha out-beat them all. Her hands moved down her body over her hips and you watched in amazement as she began to thrust onto your leg while dancing like a majestic queen. Her moans spilled past her throat, giving you everything you desired sipping her up.

Your hands begged to move and your pussy pulsated allowing some juices to spill out. Your eye's pleaded with her to undo the cuffs but all you'd received in return, was a tut and a small pressure to your throat.

"You can touch soon detka. I'd like to have my fun now. Do you know how long I've waited to have my way with you?" She whispered her hips shaking and thrusting to the beat of the music.

"N-No," you answered honestly to mesmerised by her movements to figure out an answer.

"Since you first walked into that door. I needed you away so I didn't tempt myself with the cup of sinfulness, one that I shouldn't lead by. Yet, when I saw you dance.. Oh my sweet little slut. You were perfect. I needed to ruin all of you," she husked out shaking her strap slightly.

You almost came right from the scene in front of you, gaining your own kind of friction from her strap. However while the music beat sped up one lyric spurred her over the edge and caused her to break the chains of control, fly up from hell and take her prize.

'When she lays down to pray at night.. She'll be screaming my name.'

Something about that song lyric sent Natasha spurring forward and her hips bucked against your lap causing her to cry out in ecstasy. Her hands reached up undoing the cuffs breaking the barrier as your hands finally touched her hips, her olive silky skin feeling beautiful under your finger tips.

Her fingers suddenly managed to make their way underneath her body with a precision that seemed impossible to you and slammed themselves into your now over-stimulated pussy. You cried out in part-pain and mainly bliss the coil in your stomach building up.

She worked you like wonders themselves couldn't work the song blaring in the background. Natasha still continued to give you a lap-dance of sorts but mainly focused on getting the two of you off and fingered you hard and fast, her hips meeting some sort of thrust.

"Scream my name," left her lips and that's all it took.

The coil in your stomach snapped and you came once more all over her fingers, legs shaking and your eyes pooled with tears of joy from how incredible it felt. Natasha followed suite from the sight and the friction cumming all down her strap and some spilling onto your lap causing yourself to groan.

However, she had an ungodly amount of adrenaline pounding through her system as she clambered of your body leaning over your lips and throat demanding one thing of you.

"Suck."

Her voice was raspy sending a pool of wetness shooting down once more and you felt yourself let out some dripping juices by accident. You instantly took the strap on gagging on it as she shoved it deeply in your throat. Looking down, the sight was enough for Natasha to cum right there and then but she held it.

She wanted you to gag on her strap, shut your pretty little mouth up as she took in the sight of what was hers. Her sinful prize, her desired need was sucking her cock so well it was a bliss to see. Hearing you gag she rubbed your pussy once again causing you to cry out the stimulation being too much, yet Natasha ignored you.

She ignored you until your hips jerked up once more being greedy and desperate for her fingers or strap-on and she smirked in sheer delight. She'd made you putty in her hands. You didn't care anymore the manipulation of her job had worked wonders in your mind making it hazed with fuel of her touch and knowing only she could make you like this.

Clambering down, no warning was given as her cock suddenly found your puffy and over-stimulated entrance and her eyes drifted down. Natasha groaned at the sight, how ruined and how messy you were, wetness seeping down your thighs.

Not wanting to waist another minute, her cock slammed into you thrusting hard not giving you any time to adjust. Her lips moved fast and at a ferocious pace causing animalistic like grunts to leave your lips. Your mind danced with her and only her, it was like she'd made her mark engraved her and only her within it and you'd take it all, drink all of her and whatever she'd give you.

Sloppy slapping sounds hit the four walls of the room and her lips slammed into yours as she bit on your bottom lip. Your now free hands, moved into her hair tugging lightly causing a growl fit from an animal that could kill within seconds. Natasha kissed harder, hips slamming down without a single care and you felt yourself becoming close.

"Please.."

She grinned against your lips and you knew what was going to happen then and there. Your boss had won the game of the life time, her prize possession and puppet.

"Cum on mommy's cock like a good little stripper hmm? Let me take all of you," she husked out giving a particular hard thrust.

With that your juices hit her strap-on hard, flowing out of you like a river itself your mouth screaming her name while your body shivered. Hands clawing at her back now the sight was enough to send her spiralling, leaving you just enough time to recover to see the sight.

Her back arched, releasing her own as she had her eyes closed lips partially opened and skin slick with sweat and cum mixed from both of your spots.

Your eyes shut themselves sheer exhaustion taking in and all that could be heard was panting breaths in the room. It was as she leaned down you'd known how badly caught in the trap of lust you were with your own boss, her whispers filling the room.

"I've caught my own trap now, the devil got her prize. And I am far from finished with you yet, mommy's little stripper slut."

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[bossbtch1]

Forbidden Reunion

Summary : You managed to escape from Loki after discovering his lies. Aware that both he and the TVA would be searching for you, you prayed they wouldn't succeed. However, now Loki stood in front of you and he had no intentions of letting you go.

Pairing : Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader

General tags : SMUT, 18+, Dark Fic, Obsessive, Yandere

Trigger Warnings: Strong Language, Violence, Stalking, Non-con, Dubious Consent, Forced Blowjob, Forced Orgasm, Fingering, P in V, Unprotected Sex, Breeding, Overstimulation (let me know if I missed any lol)

Word Count: 10k

A/N : Sorry it took me too long to post this, juggling this alongside my other story took some time. But as promised, I'm releasing this one first.

Before you continue, please read TW again. This is a dark!fic and explicit, strictly for readers 18+. Please, DO NOT PROCEED if these themes disturb you. I've warned you, this fic isn't for the faint-hearted.

This took in Loki season 2 based on that shadow play.

If you like my story, please go check out my other stories here

Exhausted from years of evading both Loki and the TVA. Tonight, you found yourself in a bar, a moment to escape the chaos for years and hoping for a chance encounter. Despite your past with Loki, you were eager to move forward and explore new relationships, you have your own needs, and the more time went on, you knew they could not be sated by yourself anymore.

You could use your power to manipulate them into sleeping with you, but you knew it was wrong, you were sure there was a natural progression you just needed to be patient, and maybe your powers were going to waste being used to keep you hidden from the TVA.

Your mind drifted back to Loki, the god of Mischief and how he lied to you, manipulated you.

Flashback

"I'm sorry to say this, but you have been deceived by him," the TVA agent asserted. You turned your back on her as you attempted to escape, your eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of Loki. You had become separated during the chaotic chase within the TVA headquarters.

"No, I'm not. Loki wouldn't lie to me," you defended him, your voice laced with unwavering belief.

"Is he? Tell me, what did he say to you, the reason he got caught?" the agent probed, her tone challenging.

"He tried to rule Earth and failed," you replied, recalling the events that had led to his capture.

She seemed surprised that you knew. "Yes, and whose fault was that?" she pressed further.

“Yes, I know it was his.” You admitted, frustration seeping into your words, “But it stemmed from his deep-seated need for approval and love, especially from a father who resented him for being adopted." Despite the firmness in your tone, a flicker of doubt shadowed your eyes, making you question whether you were convincing the agent or merely grappling with your own uncertainties.

"Is that the whole story? Or just a part he wants you to believe?" Her words hung heavy in the air.

"He's the trickster god, the silvertongue," she continued, her voice steady, unwavering. "Manipulation is in his nature. Don't fall for his lies."

"Hello? Hey?" You heard a voice bringing you back from your daydream. "Can I buy you a drink?"

You looked up, it was a handsome man who had sat down beside you. You smiled, not wanting to appear rude. "Yes, please," you said.

He smiled, "I'm Mark."

"Y/N," you said.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," he smiled.

You returned his smile. You enjoyed his company as you chatted and laughed, his eyes sparkled as he listened to you talk, you knew you were making him blush when you teased him, he was sweet, and you knew he liked you.

Conversation flowed easily between you two. You couldn't remember the last time you felt so at ease with a stranger, the feeling was new and exciting. He seemed so genuinely interested in what you had to say and you felt as if he actually understood what was going on in your life.

"Do you want to come to my place? I've got a bottle of whiskey that needs drinking," he smiled.

"Sure, why not?" you said, downing the rest of your drink. This was your chance to get what you've been craving, and what better way to start than with a handsome man inviting you to his place?

Then someone spilled his drink onto Mark, ruining his white shirt.

"What the hell? Are you kidding me?!" he yelled at the man. "Watch where you're going, asshole." He shouted in frustration.

"Oh, I am so sorry, man, I tripped," the other man said, his voice calmed.

You recognize the voice.

It was Mobius.

Your heart raced, and you couldn't believe that he had managed to track you down. Paralyzed with fear, you sat there, feeling the color drain from your face as you stared at him in disbelief. If Mobius was here then that meant that Loki wasn't far behind.

Mark was fuming, he stormed off to the bathroom, leaving you alone, and you wanted desperately to call out, to warn him not to leave you by yourself, but fear kept your words trapped in your throat.

"Hello, Y/N."

Your name was like poison on his lips.

"Loki," you hissed back, turning around to face him.

He looked exactly the same as the last time you'd seen him, his black hair was neatly styled, his green eyes were piercing, and his face was pale. His expression was serious, his jaw set and his eyes cold, he looked so different from the Loki you had known and fallen in love with.

"What the fuck are you two doing here?" Your heart pounded in your chest, your palms sweaty with anxiety, and you were suddenly very aware of how alone you were in the bar.

"I missed you, pet. I have been worried," his tone was mocking and his smirk didn't reach his eyes.

"Don't lie, Loki," you shot back, glaring at him.

"You know, you've always been so difficult."

"And you're an asshole."

Loki didn't say anything, instead he reached for your wrist and held it tight. "Let me go! You fucking liar, I trusted you, I loved you, and you betrayed me," you shouted, struggling against his grip.

"Little one, don't make a scene." he growled in your ear.

Your eyes pleaded with Mobius, who stood caught between the two of you. "Are you just going to stand there and let this happen?" you implored, your voice cracking with desperation.

Mobius sighed, a mixture of resignation and sadness in his eyes. "I'll leave you be for now then," he said, his tone heavy with regret. "I'll see you later." With that, he turned away, leaving you to face Loki's wrath alone.

"How about I give you a choice," he said, a sinister glint in his eyes. "Either you can come home willingly, or I can use my magic to knock you out and bring you home. Which do you prefer?" The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, leaving you trapped in a lose-lose situation.

"I'm not going anywhere with you, Loki!" you hissed, your voice laced with defiance as you struggled against his grip. Every fiber of your being screamed resistance, but you knew the sheer force of his magic could easily overpower you.

"Very well then," he purred, his lips twisted into a sadistic smile as he waived his hand, ready to use his magic.

"Wait!" You blurted, holding up your hands to stop him, your voice trembled as the weight of your decision bore down upon you.

"Yes, little one?" he asked, his tone condescending and smug.

"I'll come willingly," you said, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. It was a lie, a desperate attempt to buy some time.

"But can I go to the bathroom first?" You clung to the hope that a brief moment alone might offer a chance, your mind racing for an escape plan.

"Alright," Loki agreed, his tone oddly accommodating. "Go on, pet." He nodded towards the restroom.

You hurried into the bathroom and locked the door behind you, your heart pounding in your chest. Your frantic eyes searched for your tempad, only to realize it was gone. "Asshole!" you muttered under your breath, realizing that Loki must have taken it when he grabbed your arm.

You had no escape plan, and Loki was waiting for you. You looked for a way out, but the windows were too small for you to climb through, so you thought it would be best to just run through the door and run far away from the bar.

Gathering your courage, you unlocked the door and burst out, your footsteps echoing in the corridor. Behind you, you could hear Loki's enraged shout, "Y/N!" His voice boomed, fueling your determination to run as far and as fast as you could from the bar.

"Y/N! Y/N!" you could hear him getting closer and closer. His voice cut through the air like a sharp blade. "Y/N, stop now!"

"FUCK OFF!" you screamed, frustration and fear fueling your voice. You cast a desperate glance behind you and saw Loki hot on your heels. "Fuck!" you whispered under your breath.

You could feel the tears burning behind your eyes, the adrenaline coursing through your veins, and the fear of being caught was overwhelming. "Fuck, no! Not again!" you thought.

You were annoyed by the people "Move! Move! Please!" You screamed at the people that were blocking the road, but they wouldn't move.

"Fuck you!" One guy shouted back at you after you pushed him away.

You couldn't run anymore. You were too slow, and he was gaining on you, and you knew that you couldn't escape him. But you need to keep trying, you couldn't give up. You were running, and running, and running.

The pain was too much, your muscles ached, and your lungs burned. Your vision was blurred, and you couldn't focus. You were tired of running and out of breath, you leaned against a wall and rested, hoping Loki wouldn't see you.

However, your respite was short-lived. In a blink, Loki teleported right in front of you, his expression oddly calm. "Pet, we have been searching for you for a long time, you hid well." He said, his tone icy.

"You can't be fucking serious!" you hissed, "Why did you look for me? I left for a reason, you betrayed my trust. You used me, and I hate you."

"Little one, why are you angry at me?"

"Are you really asking that, you lying snake?" Pushing him away, you shouted, and sprinted away from him once more, your determination fueling your escape.

You didn't make it far, though, before you felt a familiar, freezing hand grasp your arm, tugging you backward and pulling you against a cold, solid form.

"I don't appreciate it you calling me that."

You gasped, and tried to pull away from him, but his grip was like steel, and no matter how hard you struggled, you couldn't free yourself from him. "I don't care! Let me go!"

He ignored your pleas, then you pulled out a knife from your pocket. You knew he could've easily taken the knife, but instead he let you go, "You think you can hurt me, little one? How adorable." he cooed, his voice silky smooth.

"I'll fucking kill you!"

He laughed again mocking you, "Do you want to try? Do you think you can stab me with that knife, pet?"

You didn't answer, instead you held the knife up, threatening him, "Loki, you don't want to make me angry." You knew that was stupid of you saying that.

He smirked, he wasn't afraid of you, and he wasn't intimidated by you. "You are so cute when you are mad," he mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and his eyes were dark.

"Put the knife down, and we can go home, pet" he offered.

"Fuck you, Loki," you spat, your voice dripping with venom as you stood your ground, the knife still clutched tightly in your hand.

He grinned, "Oh, you will soon enough, pet."  He let out a low chuckle and he snapped his finger and the knife flew from your hand to the wall. You watched in horror, you didn’t have anything else on you to defend yourself from him.

He began to advance toward you, a predator toying with his prey. Panic surged through you, urging you to flee. Yet, no matter how fast you ran, Loki always reappeared before you.

His voice dripped with amusement, "Come on, pet. Do you really think you can outrun me?" His grin widened, relishing the chase as if it were sort of a game to him.

"You won't ever escape me, pet. Even if you manage to get away from me, I will always find you again and again. You will be mine, whether you want to or not." He declared, his tone possessive and chilling. He stood before you, his presence looming over you like a dark cloud.

"I won't stop fighting you," you vowed, your voice filled with defiance, glaring at him as he advanced toward you. Desperation fueled your steps as you ran, but he always caught up to you, teleporting right in front of you, a relentless pursuit that seemed endless.

"You can't run forever, pet," he taunted, his eyes dark and menacing, his voice deep and husky. “Eventually, I’ll catch up to you.”

You were getting tired of running. "Come on, pet. Are we playing a game?" He chuckled, the sound echoing eerily through the empty street. The bastard was enjoying this twisted cat-and-mouse chase.

"Just stop!" you cried out, your frustration boiling over.

"Why would I stop? This is the most fun I've had in years, darling. I enjoy seeing you run, it's quite entertaining."

"Shut up." You tried to run away again, your breaths ragged. "Quit your magic, and fight fair!" Deep down, you knew if you were in a one-on-one combat with him, without his magic, you could win. "If you win, I'll come willingly."

"That's not how this works, little one," he chided, his tone laced with amusement.

You felt the anger boiling inside of you, but you continued to run. Each step echoed in the empty alley as you tried to escape his relentless pursuit. "Leave me alone then!" you shouted, desperation lacing your voice.

To your horror, your movements came to an abrupt stop. Loki stood in front of you, his mischievous grin sending shivers down your spine. Frantically, you turned around, only to find him there again, mocking your attempts to escape. Panic set in as you attempted to flee in the opposite direction, but there he was once more, his presence haunting you like a nightmare.

"What the fuck is going on?" you muttered, disbelief coloring your voice. How was he everywhere? How was he doing this? Your mind raced with questions as you stepped back, trying to distance yourself from the three identical Loki that surrounded you.

Were you tripping, or is there really three of them?

Loki's chuckle reverberated around you, a haunting sound that sent chills down your spine. Frustration boiled within you, and you screamed in exasperation, "How are you doing that?" Your voice wavered, trembling with a mixture of frustration and fear as you desperately demanded answers.

His grin widened as he continued to toy with your sanity. "Oh, come now, surely you know a trick or two, you being a witch and all," he taunted, the words laced with mocking arrogance.

You took slow steps backward as the three Loki remained in front of you, your resolve mingling with confusion and growing fear. "I'm not a witch, you... asshole," you retorted.

Suddenly, you felt his warm breath near your ear, and his voice sent a shiver down your spine. "It's called an illusion, little one," he whispered, the hot air tickling your earlobe. You jolted away from him, only to find another Loki standing in front of you, and you jumped yet again.

Fear gripped you, not of him, but of the overwhelming confusion and frustration that clouded your senses. The relentless onslaught of illusions left you feeling disoriented, unable to discern reality from the intricate tricks he was playing.

"Please stop," you pleaded.

"Stop what?" he asked, feigning innocence, his eyes glinting mischievously.

"Your tricks. I'm not stupid, stop," you demanded, your voice growing firmer despite the fear gripping your heart.

The three Loki slowly closed in on you, each step they took making your heart race faster. You retreated, trying to create distance, but soon your back met the unyielding wall. There was no escape. Your mind raced, your heart pounded, and you breathed heavily, trapped in a nightmare of your own making.

Suddenly, you felt an invisible force restraining your hands, pinning them against the wall. You looked around frantically, searching for the source, but there was no one in sight. Panic clawed at your throat as you realized you were immobilized.

"What the fuck are you doing?! Let me go."

"I don't think I will, my little pet," Loki said, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

Suddenly, Mobius reappeared beside Loki, seemingly out of thin air. "A little over the top, don’t you think, all the shadow play?" he commented, his tone disapproving.

Loki smirked, unrepentant. "I thought it was spot on."

Mobius turned his attention to you, his expression filled with concern. "What are you trying to do to the poor girl?" he asked.

"I'm merely making a point," Loki replied casually, as if discussing the weather and your distress was nothing more than a game.

Mobius shook his head and lightly chuckled, "Oh, I'm sure you are. That's why she looks like a frightened rabbit."

"I'm still here? Hello?” They were casually talking like you were invincible, despite being bound to a wall. Their attention shifted to you, and you erupted, "Mobius, what the hell? Arrest him! What are you doing!" Panic and anger laced your words, but it fell on deaf ears.

"Sorry, sweetheart, I can't do that. I made a deal with Loki," Mobius responded, his tone regretful yet resolute.

You felt a chill run down your spine. "What fucking deal?" You asked, your voice trembling. "What are you going to do with me?"

"I'm not going to do anything. But Loki, on the other hand..." he chuckled darkly. "Well, the deal is, we only need you alive. That's all I'm saying. My lips are sealed," Mobius replied with a cryptic smile.

You didn't have a chance to process his words before the Loki closest to you began circling you, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Your heartbeat wildly, fear coursing through your veins as he trailed his finger along your arm, his touch light and teasing in suspense.

"What the fuck is the matter with you, let me go!" you shrieked, your panic and anger rising. "Mobius you fucking bitch, you are nothing but a- MMM" abruptly, as the shadow silenced you, turning your pleas into incoherent whispers.

Mobius sighed, shaking his head. "Now you're just showing off," he admonished.

"I can't help it, you bring out the worst in me."

Loki stepped in front of you and leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "Now, where were we?" he whispered, his voice low and seductive. His fingers trailed along your jaw, his touch feather-light and tantalizing. You were struggling to break free from his hold, but your body remained paralyzed, at his mercy.

Loki, leaning casually against the wall, let out a low, amused chuckle at your futile struggles. "Oh, little one," he purred, his tone mocking and condescending. "There's no use in fighting. You won't be able to break free. Trust me."

"Now, be a good girl and remain still," Loki said, his smile cruel and unsettling as he locked eyes with you, a twisted affection glinting in his gaze.

"Loki, take it easy on her. She's just a young girl, after all." Mobius interjected, his voice laced with a hint of compassion, though his eyes conveyed a different story. "Make sure to control your pet, Loki.” Mobius emphasized before vanishing into thin air.

You screamed was incoherent since your mouth was being covered by the shadow, you tried to say "Help!" and "No" but nothing came out.

Loki grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing your head up to meet his gaze. "Oh, darling. Don't try to speak, or scream, or fight. You can't escape, and no one is going to save you. No one will hear you, the only sound you will make is your moans."

Fear gripped you, the uncertainty of Loki's intentions leaving you paralyzed and vulnerable.

He advanced toward you, his steps deliberate and predatory. "Now," he whispered, his voice dripping with sadistic anticipation, "let the fun begin, pet."

With a snap of his fingers, Loki dispelled the shadow covering your mouth, granting you the ability to speak again. "Get off me, Laufeyson!" you exclaimed, your voice laced with defiance. You strained against your restraints, desperate to escape his grasp. "This is wrong. You're crazy psychopath."

"Oh, pet," he said, a twisted smile playing on his lips. "We've done far worse together."

Frustration and fear gripped you as you struggled against your bindings, pleading, " Why can't you just leave me alone?"

A dark chuckle escaped Loki's lips as he replied, "You know why."

"Please, just let me go." You pleaded, desperation creeping into your voice.

Loki's smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with possessiveness. "I'm afraid I can't do that, love. You belong to me."

"No, I don't! I'm not yours," you protested vehemently. You writhed against the magical restraints, a mixture of anger and fear fueling your struggles. His control over you felt like a violation, and you despised him for it, for using his magic against you in such a cruel manner.

"Oh, pet," Loki purred, his voice dripping with both mockery and desire. "You can fight all you want, but you'll never win, not when it comes to me." He leaned in, his lips grazing your neck in a chilling caress. You whimpered as he sucked on your skin, his teeth scraping lightly.

"Stop. Please," you begged, your voice trembling.

"But why would I stop," he replied, his tone silkier than ever, "when I'm having so much fun?" His words hung in the air, laden with sadistic pleasure.

"I hate you. I will never stop hating you," you spat out, your words laced with a fierce determination, even in the face of your vulnerability.

Loki's lips curled into a sly smile, "You don't truly hate me, little one. You merely pretend to. I see through the façade. I know what lies beneath."

"What the hell are you talking about, Loki?" you shot back.

"Stop being such a brat," he sneered. The shadow binding both your wrists kept you firmly against the wall, his control unyielding. "Do you like being restrained, hmm? Enjoy the feeling of someone else in control, knowing you can't escape, and no one will help you?" His face hovered dangerously close to yours, his breath ghosting over your skin.

“No! Stop that nonsense!” You lied, you were scared, and angry, but you also secretly enjoyed being under his control whether you wanted to admit it or not.

He hummed and kissed your neck and whispered in your ear, his breath tickled your ear and you felt shivers down your spine. “Fuck, how I miss you.” His voice was deep and commanding, sending tingles of pleasure throughout your body.

"Please, stop. Just leave me alone. Don't do this to me, please."

"Oh, little one. You know I can't do that." He said as his hands roamed all over your body, caressing every inch of you, making you feel so vulnerable. You felt the heat rise between your legs and your heart raced faster.

"I can smell your arousal, pet.” He lightly bit your neck. “Your body betrays you. It craves my touch, just as much as you do," he said, his voice laced with a sinister confidence. "You want me, even if you refuse to admit it."

You met his gaze with defiance, attempting to deny the truth he claimed. "You're delusional," you retorted, your words aimed at rejecting his manipulative influence.

"Am I?" Loki's eyes bore into yours, a predatory glint flickering in their depths. "Your heart, your mind, your body—they all long for me, even if you deny it. You can't escape this, no matter how hard you try. I will always find you, even if I have to tear the universe apart to get you back."

Loki was right. Your body was betraying you. The wetness was getting more intense by the minute, you could feel the pleasure building up, but you couldn't let yourself fall into temptation, he had hurt you, lied to you, manipulated you, used you, and now he was going to take you against your will.

You had to fight him.

You had to escape him.

You couldn't let him take you.

Not like this.

But you wanted more, and you knew that Loki would give you everything you wanted and more. You could feel the pleasure building up. You moaned softly as his hands roamed over your breasts. You felt a rush of anger, "What are you doing? You're using your magic to seduce me, aren't you?"

He met your accusation with a knowing grin. "I don't need magic to seduce you.” He countered, “Your body responds to me naturally, so beautifully. It's like a drug, and once I've had a taste, I'm hooked. I can't get enough of you."

You felt his lips on your neck. His kisses were soft and tender. You gasped as his tongue licked your neck, trailing down your collarbone. You couldn't stop the moan that escaped your lips as his fingers pinched your nipple.

You felt he smirked and you tried not to moan, biting your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was affecting you. But he could read your mind, and he could hear your thoughts, and he knew what you were feeling. He was inside your head.

"Just stop."

"Not until I'm finished with you. Not until you're begging for more. Begging for my cock inside of you. Begging for me." He slammed your back against the wall, and you yelped as you hit it hard.

He had you caged, and your legs were starting to tremble. You didn't know if it was from the force or the intensity of his words. You tried to push him away but he was stronger than you. His body was pressed against yours. He then kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but feel his body against yours.

He was a good kisser, and he knew what he was doing. You were moaning into the kiss, and you were fighting to keep control. Then you felt his cock growing hard. You gasped and that was when you realized what was going on. In a desperate act of defiance, you bit down hard, drawing blood. You tasted it.

He pulled back momentarily caught off guard. He looked like a maniac, and you had to remind yourself not to be afraid of him. His lips curled into a sinister grin as he wiped the blood away with his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours. "I like that," he said, his voice low and dark, his grin widening.

You stared at him, and you felt your eyes widen in shock. You felt your heart race. You were still struggling against him, and you tried to pull your hand free from his restraints, but it was useless.

"Oh, pet," he sneered, his tone laced with malice. "I'll make you pay for that defiance."

"What are you planning? Torture me?" you challenged back.

"Torture is such a crude term," he replied, his words dripping with sadistic pleasure. "I prefer 'punish'. After all, you've been a naughty girl. And naughty girls must be disciplined."

Your eyes narrowed, a fierce glare aimed his way. "You can't do anything to break me. You can't force me to feel anything. You have no control over me."

He laughed, "Is that so? You know nothing about me, love. Nothing. If I had my way, I would've taken you to my bed, and kept you there, tied up, blindfolded, gagged, naked, helpless, at my mercy. But I can't do that, yet. However, that doesn't mean I can't have fun."

"You're insane. I despise you," you retorted, your words heavy with hatred.

"That's fine," he replied, his tone oddly calm. "I'm used to people hating me. It's just a matter of time before they change their minds. And I'll have you. One way or another, you're mine."

"Go to hell."

"Only if you come with me."

You felt a chill run down your spine, and you couldn't help but shiver. You couldn't stop thinking about the things he had said. About how you were his. You tried to shake the thoughts away, but they were persistent.

You accidentally clenched your pussy at his words, you hoped he didn't notice.

He chuckled, the sound sending chills down your spine. "Oh, pet, that's adorable," he taunted, his grin widening with malicious amusement. "Do you like the thought of that, pet?" Loki's eyes glittered with dark intent, sensing the conflict within you, and it only served to fuel his sadistic amusement.

"No!" You denied.

"Then why did you clench your pussy, hmm? Was it because you were imagining me taking you?"

"It was just a reflex," you stammered, attempting to deny the undeniable truth.

"Is that so?" he murmured, his voice a dark, taunting whisper. His smirk widened, and he moved his face closer to yours until there were mere inches between your lips. "You're lying, love."

"I won't let you slip away again," he whispered, his fingers tightening around your throat, making each breath a struggle. His eyes bore into yours. "I will make you mine."

He tightened his grip around your throat and slammed your back against the wall, your head hit the wall with a loud thud. You couldn't breathe. The pain was unbearable. Tears began streaming down your face as you struggled to breathe.

But this was making you turned on, despite how much you hated Loki, you couldn't deny that he was hot and the way he was being rough with you was making your pussy throb.

"You'll see. It's time to begin your training, pet." He whispered as his hands travelled lower, caressing your inner thigh. "Please, Loki."

"Shhh, shh." He pressed his finger against your lips, "Save your begging."

“Fuck you!”

He raised his eyebrows and smirked, "I would love to do that right now, but I think we should save it for later."

"You bastard!" you spat, your anger seething.

"Watch your language, pet," he sneered, his grip tightening as he grabbed your chin, his fingers digging into your jaw. "Now, be a good girl and open your mouth." He took a piece of cloth out of his pocket. It was green.

"Hell No! I won't do it. I won't cooperate." You retorted, like who in the world would agree to that?

He sighed. "You know, you really are a stubborn little thing. It's adorable. But, it won't get you anywhere. In fact, it'll just make things worse."

You stared at him. You couldn't believe what was happening. How could he be so cruel? So evil? He chuckled. "I told you. You're not in control here. I am. Now, open your mouth."

“Never.”

"Fine. Then I'll do it for you." He used his magic to force open your mouth, his magic was painful, and it burned. You could barely move. He put the cloth in your mouth and tied it around your head. You tried to scream but couldn't.

"So pretty," he said as he stroked your cheek. "You should be grateful that I'm even letting you use this, instead of forcing you to be silent. And remember, the gag stays on unless I say otherwise. Understand?"

You shook your head mumbling, "Mmff, no."

"That's too bad," he mused, his voice dripping with sadistic amusement. "Because if you try to remove the gag, I'll have to punish you. And you don't want that, do you?"

"Nnooo, I don't," you mumbled, your voice barely audible through the gag.

"Good girl," he purred. "You'll get used to it."

With a swift motion, he removed the shadow restraints from your arms, and you immediately attempted to fight back, you tried to hit him, but he easily dodged your blow. His grip iron-strong when he caught your hand. "Careful, pet," he cautioned, his voice a dangerous whisper. "My patience wears thin."

Using his powers, he summoned the shadow to immobilize you once more, pinning you against the wall, this time including your legs. You were rendered utterly helpless, trapped in his web of darkness.

"Now, let's begin," he said, his voice oozing with menace. You remained tied up, gagged, and entirely at his merciless mercy.

He took out a dagger from his belt and cut through your shirt and bra, leaving you exposed. "Oh my, that's a nice sight."

You let out a muffled scream, "You don't need clothes. They will only get in the way."

He began kissing your neck and sucking on your skin. "Mmf," You moaned softly as his lips trailed down your collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses and bites. He cupped your breast and teased your nipple.

"Mmff No..."

He ignored your protests and continued to play with your nipples.

"You like that, don't you? I can feel how wet you are, darling." He whispered into your ear.

"Mmmff." You tried to deny, but he could hear your thoughts.

He smirked. "I bet if I put my fingers inside you right now, they'd slide right in. I bet you're dripping wet for me, aren't you, my sweet?"

"Mmf."

"You don't need to speak, little one," he whispered, his voice a low, seductive murmur that sent shivers down your spine. "Just relax. I know what you want."

His hand glided down your thigh, his touch sending electric sparks through your skin, until he slipped his fingers under the hem of your dress and traced the edge of your panties. "And it seems that your body agrees with me," he continued, "It's telling me that it's ready to submit to me."

You closed your eyes and tried to block him out. But he could hear your thoughts, and he knew what you were thinking.

"Come on, pet. Open your eyes and look at me. I want to see your beautiful eyes."

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes and found him staring at you, his gaze darkened with hunger and desire.

"There you go. Such a good girl." He praised you.

He slid your panties to the side and his fingers found your pussy, already dripping wet. "Oh, you're so wet, pet. Do you want me that much? Do you want me to fuck you, hmm?"

He slid your panties to the side and cupped your pussy. "Fuck," he muttered as his fingers slipped between your folds, "You're already dripping for me."

You blushed furiously as he rubbed your clit in slow, gentle circles.

"Yes," he said, his voice deepening, "Your body wants me. It wants me to take you and make you mine."

His finger pressed against your entrance and then pushed into you, making you gasp. He curled it and began to massage your G-spot. You bit your lip and moaned, trying not to make too much noise. You tried to squirm away from him, but it was no use.

You clenched your fists, struggling to hold back the moan threatening to escape your lips. A soft whimper escaped your lips, and the Loki behind you laughed softly. "No. You're not getting away from me."

You whimpered as he thrust another finger into you, stretching you even further. He began pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, making you gasp and moan under the gagged cloth. His fingers worked their magic, sliding in and out of you, rubbing your G-spot with each stroke. He kept a steady rhythm, keeping you on the edge.

You could feel your walls tightening around his fingers, the sensation driving you mad. The Loki in front of you watched intently as he continued to pleasure you, his gaze filled with a mix of lust and amusement as you struggled to keep control. "Oh, little one," he said, "I love seeing you like this. So desperate. So needy. So fucking sexy." His other hand gripped your hips, keeping you in place.

"You're so wet," he murmured, "You're practically begging me to fuck you."

"Mmfff." You tried to ignore him, but he curled his fingers and stroked you just right, and your hips bucked involuntarily. You were quickly approaching your orgasm, and it was impossible to stop yourself from moaning loudly.

Loki leaned in and nipped at your neck, and you shivered as his breath caressed your skin. "But I won't. Not yet. First, I want to watch you come. I want to see your face when you orgasm. I want to hear the sounds you make when you come."

His fingers thrusting into your pussy, his thumb rubbing your clit. You were so close, and you knew that he could sense it. "Ah, yes. That's it. You're doing so well. Now, tell me... do you want to cum?" He pumped them faster, deeper.

You shook your head. You didn't want to come, you tried to resist, but you were too far gone. You felt the pressure building in your core, the pleasure was too much.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, "Then let's see how long you can last."

He pumped his fingers faster and harder, making you moan and cry out. He thrust a third finger into your pussy and continued his assault on your clit. He was fucking you with his fingers, and you were so close. You could feel the heat rising in your belly, and you knew you couldn't hold it back any longer. You shook your head at him begging him not to make you come.

"Come on pet, don't fight it, just let it happen. Give into the pleasure. Come for me."

He pumped his fingers faster and harder, making you moan and cry out. "Yes, that's it," he whispered, "Just a little bit longer, you're so close."

He was relentless, his fingers working your pussy expertly. "Nnnn." You tried to tell him that you weren't going to let him win, but you couldn't speak.

You could feel the pleasure building and you knew that he could sense it. He kept pumping his fingers and rubbing your clit, and you couldn't hold back any longer. Your pussy was so wet, his fingers were sliding in and out so easily. You felt the orgasm approaching, the pressure was building, and you knew you couldn't hold it back any longer.

"You're going to come, whether you want to or not. So, don't fight it, just let it happen."

"Mmmmmm"

"Yes. You can't stop it. I'm going to make you come."

He continued to thrust his fingers, his thumb circling your clit, the pressure building until you could take it no more. He removed the gagged from your mouth, "Let me hear your moans, pet."

You let out a loud cry, unable to contain it. "That's it. You're so close, I can feel it.” Your back arched and you cried out, his fingers and thumb pushing you over the edge. "Come for me, my sweet. Come for me. Now." He curled his fingers inside you and bit your neck.

You screamed and bucked as the orgasm took you, and he didn't let up. He continued to pump his fingers and rub your clit, pushing you further and further until you couldn't take it anymore. You thrashed about as the pleasure was too much, your orgasm overwhelming your senses.

Your body writhing against his fingers. Your release was so intense that it made your whole body shudder. He held you tightly, his fingers still moving in and out of your pussy, drawing out your orgasm.

"There we go," he said, smiling down at you. "Such a good girl. You're such a good girl for me, pet."

You were a panting, sweating, mess, and you were exhausted.

He kissed your forehead and pulled his fingers out of you. You were glad the shadow was there restraining you or you would collapse.

After you came down from your high, you realized what just happened. You spat at him, "Fuck you, Loki. You're disgusting."

"Disgusting?" He raised his eyebrows. "Now, why would you say that, little one? Was it not good for you? You certainly seemed to enjoy yourself."

"Get the fuck away from me." you spat, your voice filled with venom.

He laughed, "You don't get to tell me what to do, little one. I'm not done with you yet."

"You fucking monster," you screamed, "I'm not going to let you touch me."

He grinned and grabbed your hair, pulling you towards him. "Watch your mouth, pet. I don't like hearing you use foul language. Now, since I was so kind to give you such a nice orgasm, will you be a good girl and obey me without any fuss?"

You rolled your eyes. "Like hell I will!"

He smirked in response. "Since I've been rather kind to you," Loki began, his eyes roaming over your body, "I have a proposition for you."

Though you had little desire to hear anything he had to say, your curiosity got the best of you, compelling you to reluctantly listen.

"Do you want me to fuck you here, right now in this alley, or in our room where we will be alone, and no one will interrupt us." He said with a smirk.

Your throat tightened, both options he presented were equally horrifying. But, the last thing you wanted was for someone to find you two here, like this. "Neither.” you choked out.

"That wasn't an option, my sweet."

You glared at him, "You're vile," you hissed

He raised an eyebrow, seemingly unaffected by your words. "You say the most hurtful things, pet."

"I'm not going to choose," you declared, "I'm not choosing anything. I'd rather die than have sex with you."

He looked amused. "Fine, then I will choose. You have a few seconds to think about it." He said as he took his jacket off, and dropped it to the ground.

"You're going to take me right here? You're an animal."

"It's your fault for refusing. If you choose the other option, I was going to be nice. I'll be rough if you insist."

"If you touch me, I'll kill you." You growled.

He laughed. "Oh, little one. It's not me you have to worry about."

Ignoring your warning, he reached forward, his touch cold against your skin, and ran his thumb along your lower lip. "Shame that I have to punish you. I'm sure you'll be a good girl after today."

You gritted your teeth and move your face away from his touch, "Don't touch me."

He ignored your demand, and began undoing his pants. He pulled his cock out, and started stroking it. You stared at his member and he was already rock hard. You hesitated, not wanting to touch him.

"Are you afraid, my sweet?"

You remained silent, refusing to dignify his question with a response.

He laughed, “There's no need to be scared. I won't hurt you. Unless you disobey me."

He moved closer, his proximity suffocating. With a swift, unwelcome touch, he reached out and stroked your cheek. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but flinch away from his caress.

"Relax, darling. This will be pleasurable for the both of us." He said as he grabbed his cock and ran it against your slit.

You felt your wetness seep onto his cock.

"STOP!" you screamed, your voice breaking the tense atmosphere, forcing him to halt his actions and look up at you.

He smiled at you. "Do you want me to stop, pet?"

You nodded frantically, desperation clouding your eyes. "Yes, I do."

"Tell me," he purred, his tone dripping with cruelty, "why should I stop?"

You scrambled for an excuse, your mind racing. "Let's do it in your place then," you stammered, your words rushed. "Please? I don't want anyone to see." Desperation clung to your voice as you pleaded, hoping against hope that he would agree to your request.

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, pet. You know that won't work."

He pressed his cock against your pussy again.

You felt his tip slip inside you. "PLEASE! I'll be good, just please stop."

He smiled. "I like the sound of that."

He sighed, "Very well, little one." He swiftly pulled up his pants, adjusted his shirt, and retrieved his jacket, freeing you in the process. You winced as you flexed your arms, the restraints having taken their toll.

With a snap of a finger, he put your clothes back on, and you felt like a weight has been lifted off your chest. You couldn't believe he stopped. He looked at you. "Remember what I said, pet. You don't speak about this to anyone. I'll know if you do. Understand?"

You nodded.

"Good girl," he affirmed.

"Come," he motioned for you to follow him, and for a moment, you considered fleeing again, knowing full well that it branded you a coward. But the terror of Loki's power held you in check.

You didn't get far before he seized you once more. "Enough!" he bellowed, sending you crashing to the ground. Your body felt numb, the pain overwhelming. You begged through the agony, "Please."

"You brought this on yourself, pet," Loki's tone was icy, disappointment etched in his features. "I was going to take care of you, give everything you desired, and all I asked in return was your love and trust. And you broke it."

"Please, Loki. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," you pleaded, desperation lacing your words.

He shook his head, "No, pet. There is no going back. You have to pay the price for what you've done," he stated firmly, his grip unyielding.

Loki wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer to him, "Sweet dreams my pet."

And then, everything faded into darkness.

When you woke up, you were on the bed, naked. The room was dark, and there was no sign of Loki. At least right now your arms and legs weren’t bounded. But still he had kidnapped you. "Fucking asshole!" You cursed inside your head.

Then you heard footsteps approaching outside, you pretended to fall asleep, hoping that he'd leave. "I know you're awake, my sweet." He chuckled, "Did you really think you could trick me, darling? You're such a naughty girl, aren't you? Tsk tsk. Such a bad girl."

You tried to fool the god of mischief, what an idiot you were. You opened your eyes and saw him staring at you. He sat down next to you and began caressing your body. He ran his hand up and down your legs.

You slapped his hand away, you hated him. How dare he touch you like that! Loki grabbed your wrist, "Don't try to stop me, little one." He threatened, his grip was tight. It hurt. "No, stop." You whimpered. You tried to struggle free, but he was too strong.

"Oh no, no, no, you're not going anywhere." He said as he pinned you down on the bed. "Are you ready to behave now, my sweet?"

You refused to respond, instead, you glared at him.

Loki shook his head and chuckled. "You are so beautiful, my sweet.”

You were getting tired of him calling you sweet and darling. "Shut up, Loki. Don’t fucking call me that, you bastard!"

He gave you a stern look. "Behave."

"Or what?" You challenged.

Loki leaned down and pressed his lips to your ear. "If you don't stop that right now, I'm going to have to punish you."

You glared up at him. "What, like you haven't already done that?"

Loki smirked, "Don't be a smartass, darling. I can make this a lot worse."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, sure."

Loki gripped your hair tightly and tugged your head back. "Are you sure you want to challenge me?"

You looked up at him defiantly. "Do your worst." You then saw him grinned, you realized you had made a big mistake.

"As you wish, little one." Loki said with a wicked grin. He got off the bed and started taking his clothes off. You knew what he was going to do, and it scared you.

He took off his shirt and threw it aside. You were confused at first, until Loki lifted his other hand and started waving it.

"What are you doing?"

"Just making sure you don't try to resist."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means, I don't want you getting away." Loki smirked. He then started moving his hand up and down your body.

You squirmed and tried to push his hand away, but they felt frozen. "Let me go, you sick bastard!"

Loki gave you a wicked grin. "No, I don't think I will"

Loki forced his lips against yours, you tried to resist, but it was useless. You couldn't move. You tried to turn your head, but it was no use.

Loki forced his tongue into your mouth. He explored every inch of your mouth, tasting you. You could taste his breath. It was sweet, with a hint of mint. You tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let you.

"Stop!" You yelled, "Please stop, Loki! I don't want to do this!

Loki ignored you. He kept kissing you, forcing his tongue down your throat. "I know you like it, darling."

You shook your head. Loki broke the kiss and smiled. "You're such a stubborn little thing, aren't you?"

"Fuck you." You spat.

“Why are you so impatient, my little pet?” Loki laughed. "Don’t worry, I’ll do it in a moment. Right now, I'm more concerned with teaching you a lesson."

You glared at him, you were so pissed off. He laughed again, “Such a pretty face, too.” He traced his finger along your jawline.

Then you watched Loki removed his pants, revealing his fully erect cock. He stroked himself slowly. You felt your body heat up. You couldn't believe it. He was making you hot.

"See something you like?" He grinned.

You blushed. You looked away. It had been awhile since you had sex with him or anyone else. You missed being fucked by him. You needed to feel his cock deep inside of you. But you knew this was wrong, you looked away from him.

"Look at me." He ordered.

You turned and looked at him. You watched as he continued to stroke his cock. "You betrayed me, Y/N." He climbed over you and straddled your hips, trapping your wrists with his hands, and pinned them above your head. "You hurt me. You have to be punished."

“You are hurting me too.”

“I don’t think so, pet. Deep down, you want this. You want me to force myself to you, you don’t think I know? I know your deepest darkest desire. The desire you try to deny. The desire for me to make you mine again. You want to be my pet again, don't you?"

He was right. You were afraid to admit it but you missed Loki. But you didn't want to admit it. You shook your head, “No! I don’t have such thing.” You knew it was a lie, deep down you wanted him to use you and force himself on you, forced you into submission, make you his again, like he had done many times before.

"Keep lying to yourself, pet. I know you more than you know yourself. Now, open your mouth and let me fuck it.”  He smirked and moved closer to you. His cock was inches away from your face. You moved your head away, but he grabbed your hair and pulled it. You winced in pain.

"Open up. Open wide and say ahh."

You refused to obey. "Don't be stubborn." You clenched your teeth together. "If you don't open your mouth, I'll fuck your throat. I'll make you gag and choke."

"You're sick."

"Maybe, but so are you, darling."

He grabbed your face, forced your mouth open. You kept them close together, "I'll fucking bite your dick off, I swear."

He was having none of it, he used his magic to make you couldn't move your jaw. Then he shoved his cock inside your mouth and forced his way in. He started to pump his hips and his cock went deep down your throat, hitting the back of your throat. He moaned, enjoying the feeling.

He pushed his cock deep into your throat, making you gag. You could feel his hard length against your tongue. His precum leaked onto your taste buds, sending shivers down your spine. He kept thrusting in and out of your mouth, deeper and deeper. Your eyes watered.

 You coughed, trying to catch your breath, but he was relentless. His hands gripped your hair tightly, his hips moved faster and harder, his cock sliding in and out of your throat.

You felt your body relax, your heart rate quickened, and your clit throbbed. You were getting turned on by this. You whimpered and felt a surge of excitement flow through your body. You couldn't believe it. You were excited at the thought of him taking you, forcing you, fucking you.

You were sick.

"This is all your fault." He said as he looked at you, enjoying the way your throat was stretched around him. "Such a good pet. Take it all, pet."

He grabbed your hair and forced his cock deeper into your mouth. You were struggling to breathe. He moaned louder as he felt his cock going deeper into your throat. He held his cock in your throat, watching you struggle to breathe. "Such a pretty face. I wonder how many people you've sucked off.”

You whimpered, feeling your body reacting to his words.

"Did you plan to suck that guy you were flirting with?" He thrusted his hips. You gagged and tears filled your eyes. "He could never make you feel this good." He moaned. His thrust became harder and deeper. You choked and gagged on his cock.

You cried, your body trembled. You were about to pass out, when he suddenly pulled his cock out and allowed you to breathe. You gasped, sucking in as much air as possible. You couldn't move, you were frozen. He then proceed to grab his cock and stroke it.

"Such a pretty sight, you are. And the view of your lips wrapped around my cock." He said, grinning. "Don't worry, my pet. I'm almost there. You're doing a great job. You're going to be rewarded for being so good for me. I'm going to give you what you want. What you need."

He grabbed your hair and slammed his cock deep again into your throat. Then his hand reached to your pussy. He put his finger in your pussy, you moaned as he touched your pussy. He smirked.  "That's a good girl, you are learning. Now, suck my cock."

You started sucking his cock. He started thrusting his cock deeper and harder into your throat. He moaned as you sucked his cock. He loved feeling your mouth on his cock.

"Mmmphh… stwop.” You tried to beg, but his cock was down your throat.

"Do not talk with your mouth full, darling. That is not polite."

You felt him tighten around your neck. His grip was firm.

"I am going to cum. Do not spit. Swallow every drop, and maybe I will reward you. But only if you're a good girl. Do you understand?"

"Mmmph." You tried to protest, but the god didn't listen. You couldn't do anything except suck his cock. Loki kept fucking your mouth until his seed spilled into your throat, you felt the warm liquid slide down your throat making you choke. Your eyes rolled back as you swallowed his seed. He pulled out and released your hands.

You coughed, and gasped for air. "Good girl. Very good girl." Loki patted your head.

You glared at him. You wanted him dead.

"Don't be like that, Y/N. You're supposed to be happy. This is what you wanted, remember? We're together again. Just like old times."

You looked away. "That was a long time ago."

Loki grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. "But it's not too late. We can have it again. We can have everything. We just have to work together."

"Work together?" You scoffed, "How can we work together? You lied to me!”

“We can talk later, my love. Right now, I need to be inside you.” He stroked his cock, he was still hard even after he came earlier. He spread your legs apart and grabbed a hold of his cock, aiming it towards your wet pussy.

"Now I'm going to fuck you so hard until you pass out. Until I cum deep inside of you and make you mine again. Then when you wake up, I'll fuck you again, and again, and again."

You felt him press his cock against your pussy, his head slid between your folds and penetrated you. "No, Loki, please, I'm sorry."

"It's too late for that."  He stroked down his hard cock even after he just came, he was hard again. He then forced himself inside of you. You screamed in agony. He was too big.

"Oh, stop your whining." Loki chuckled. "You're such a baby. It doesn't hurt that much."

His cock was big that it stretched your open, he didn’t give you time to adjust. You screamed, "You fucking asshole!"

"Watch your mouth, darling. I'm not a fan of that language." Loki slapped your pussy, it was red and swollen from his previous assault. He kept thrusting his hips, his cock pounded you over and over. Your whole body ached from him.

He was holding your waist down with one hand and pumping his hips in and out of your pussy. He continued to thrust in and out of you. He took his time and made sure he hit the spot that would make you scream and beg for more. He knew what you wanted, he knew your body and what made you tick.

You were biting your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan for him.

"Why don't you let me hear those beautiful moans, pet?" Loki purred, leaning his face in close to yours. "Don't hold back, you know you want to enjoy this."

"No..."

Loki grinned and snapped his hips hard against yours. "I know what you like, and I know you like this. It's why I keep doing this." He smiled wickedly. Loki picked up the pace. His cock hit the spot inside of you. "It’s okay. You don’t need to be embarrassed, just let it all out."

You bit your lip and gripped his sheets, trying not to make a sound. "Darling, you're so stubborn, you're going to hurt yourself." Loki grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked on it, causing you to moan and look up at him.

"You're fucking psycho!"

Loki began pounding into you even harder. His hand gripped your throat, and you felt yourself grow weaker. fast. "Loki, please..." Your vision began to fade, and you started gasping for air.  “Stop…” Loki's fingers wrapped around your neck, he choked you.

He squeezed them together and pounding his cock into you. You screamed and he slapped your pussy again. He fucked you harder than you'd ever been fucked before. You were sobbing, begging him to stop. Tears ran down your face but he didn't slow down. He kept fucking you harder than before. Your breasts were bouncing wildly as he pounded into you.

You felt him hit a spot inside of you that caused a surge of pleasure to flow through your body.  "That's it, darling." Loki moaned, slamming his hips harder against yours. "Come on, you know you want to."

You felt your orgasm building. You tried to fight the urge, but you couldn't help yourself. He kept pounding into you, his cock rubbing against your g-spot.

"Don’t fight it. You can't resist, so just give in." Loki said thrusting harder and harder, until you were both a moaning, writhing mess. Your walls clenched around his cock, and you arched your back. You moaned loudly as he fucked you harder and faster.

You couldn't fight it anymore, you screamed in pleasure, feeling yourself reaching your peak.

"Fuck, yes! Come for me! Milk my cock, pet"

You cried out as your orgasm crashed over you. Loki didn't stop, he continued thrusting in and out of your pussy. Your body shook uncontrollably. You cried out again, screaming.

"Please, stop." You pleaded, panting.

Loki ignored you, he fucked you harder and harder, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you. "I'm going to fill you with my seed. You'll be leaking it out for days. Every time you sit down or move, you'll feel it dripping down your thighs. You'll be mine."

"Please, Loki! No! Pull out!" You begged, trying to push him off of you. But he was too strong. "Why are you doing this to me?" You cried.

"I'm not going to pull out." Loki's fingers wrapped around your neck, he choked you. "After you betrayed me, this is the least you deserve. I'm going to make you pregnant. You'll have a little monster running around. You won’t ever leave me again.”

"No! Loki, stop!" You sobbed, crying out. "I'll do anything! Please don't cum in me."

"It's too late, pet." Loki ignored your pleas, he continued thrusting hard. He rubbed your clit, "Cum with me, my sweet." He was rubbing it harder, making it hard for you to keep up with his thrusts.

You shook your head. Loki growled. "Now."

You gasped, "No! No!" You cried out, trying to pull away. You couldn't fight it anymore. You moaned loudly. Your whole body spasmed with your orgasm, your walls clenching tightly around him.

Loki groaned. You felt him got bigger inside you. He let out a long moan. "Take my cum."  He spilled his hot seed inside you. It filled you, filling you up, some of it spilling out. You could feel it filling your womb, stretching your belly. It was so warm.

He continued to fuck you through his orgasm, pushing more of his cum into you. "No! Please stop!"

Loki laughed, his cock was still hard and pushed his cock back into your pussy. "Oh, but we're not done yet. I'm not finished with you yet." He pushed himself deeper inside you. He was still coming. "This is just the beginning."

"You're fucking insane."

"Yes, I know." Loki was still pumping his cock in and out of you. "I'm going to train your body. You're going to crave me, my cock, and my cum. And every time you see me, you're going to want me to fuck you. You'll need me."

"No!" You cried.

"Yes, yes, you will. Because I'm the only one who can satisfy you." He was thrusting harder, deeper, his pace increasing.

You were afraid he might never stop. And he never did.

It had felt like hours. You lost count on how many times you had orgasmed. It was too much. The room was spinning, the pain and pleasure becoming too much. You were so sensitive, every touch sending you over the edge.

“Loki, please stop. I’m begging you.” You were exhausted, spent, and sore. You couldn’t take it anymore. But you couldn’t stop him, he was too strong and too weak. He kept fucking you over and over again until you were almost at the point of passing out. But he made sure you never did by using his magic to keep you awake.

"Look at your beautiful, stretched pussy. My seed is already filling you."

You whimpered, you could feel it. You could feel the weight of his cum inside you. He never pull out. He kept coming, and his cock kept spurting more and more. You didn’t think it was possible for anyone to have so much cum. He was fucking you again and again.

"You'll learn to love me. You'll learn to beg for me. You'll learn to come on command. You'll learn to obey me. You'll learn to pleasure me. You'll learn to worship me. Because that is how we are, my sweet."

It seemed like an eternity, but finally, he was done. He collapsed onto you, panting heavily. His cock remained buried inside your pussy, and you felt him softening inside you. Your pussy ached from the rough pounding he had given you.

"You are mine, my sweet. Now and forever." He said, giving you a possessive look.

You felt his cum slowly trickle out of you. Your belly was still swollen from the amount he had pumped into you. You had never felt so full. It was like you were a water balloon, and he had been filling you with water.

Loki kissed you deeply. You could barely fight him back, you were too weak. He smiled and ran his hand through your hair. "Now get some sleep, I'll be back to check on you later." Loki got up from the bed and walked away.

The door shut. You laid there, stunned and exhausted. You were still trying to process what had happened, but there was one thing you knew for sure. You were trapped. You were his prisoner.

He was not going to let you go. Ever.

"I hate you, Loki." You whispered.

And you knew he heard it.

E/N : I intentionally made her emotion sway back and forth, torn between desiring him yet hating his actions. They're both twisted in their own ways, perhaps that's why they complement each other.

Honestly, I'm not entirely content with how the story is going; I might rewrite or delete it later, I'm not sure. Nevertheless, thank you for reading!

Let me know if you enjoy dark fics too! I adore them and plan to write more.

[hypnoticsin]

warning: all of my writings deal with dark themes including non-con and dub-con. If these subjects bother you DO NOT READ.

©hypnoticsin I do not give anyone permission to copy or translate any of my work

Steve Rogers

Treasure You are in love and love is always worth it, isn’t it? Little Mermaid-Inspired Fic

Wine Tears You want to leave Steve so you put a plan in motion, but Steve’s got his own plans

The Break In You and your friends break into the wrong house and pay the price. 

[thran-duils]

Run Into Trouble (P.1)

Title: Run Into Trouble (Part One) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Bandit Tony Stark. Infamous bandit, Tony, leaves his wife that he gained through nefarious means when he goes on dangerous runs to continue procuring fortune for himself. The reader is watched over by town patrons who are scared of her husband’s mean streak and bloodlust. But one man is not so easily frightened away. The reader is indulging herself in his company for as long as she can before Tony returns. Words: 2,163 Warnings (more may be added): Non-con, kidnapping, violence/death

Masterpost (mobile) || Fic masterpost (coming soon)

~Present

You took the treat from Ian’s calloused hand, a playful smile on your face. You unwrapped it, taking a bite leaving it in half. You savored the sugar melting on your tongue and the softness of the texture, eyes closed. The treat was pricey from the bakery down the street back in town. You had seen it in the window earlier today on your daily errands. How he knew it was what you eyed was beyond you but you guessed he merely saw it displayed and thought it was the best choice.

Ian earned well enough coin from his field work, but you did not want to deny him the taste. Holding the other half out to him, you gestured for him to take it.

Ian shook his head and gently pushed your outstretched hand back towards you. “I bought that for you. I wanted you to have it.”

You swallowed the first bite, holding the other one close again.

“That’s real sweet,” you told him. Deciding to share that you had been craving it, you said, “It was looking delicious earlier today in the store front. Like you answered a little wish to taste it.”

Ian beamed as you popped the other half in your mouth.

You typically would not walk away from the saloon with another patron alone, but you trusted him well enough. And whenever he visited, he never went upstairs with any of the workers. Never once had made a pass at you either. He was interested that was for sure, but he was respectful. He came to hear you sing and have himself a drink. And then try to get you alone to have conversation.

Ian had been warned the first time he approached you that you were off limits by the barkeep, Frank. Ian had told you as such. Frank did not hold back from telling him about Tony and Ian needed no information on who Tony Stark was. No one did.

Tony had left you here in this town as he periodically did when he was gonna go on a long job. There were towns sprinkled around you were becoming familiar with because of this. Sometimes he brought you along for short stints but not on dangerous runs. Not runs where he did not know the territory like the back of his hand and where there was risk of you getting yourself injured or worse killed. Tony was a son of a bitch and that extended to his selfish want — no, need — to have you protected for him. He did not care that you hated being left behind, only that you were there for him when he got back, unmarked, and ready to sing for him – and not just on the stage. He had loyalty through fear in towns like this. And coin he provided barkeeps for making sure his wife was well kept while he was away.

Frank did not approve of Ian wanting to hang out with you simply because he feared Tony’s wrath. So much that after a couple of weeks when Ian kept coming in after work, he had security tell Ian the last night last week he had come in he could come in as long as he kept to himself.

Ian followed the rules that time, the two of you not visiting. When he came in the next night though, you had one of the girls slip him a note and he had met you out back where you greeted him with a mug of beer. The two of you visited outside, mostly sharing stories of both of your travels.

He was nicer than Tony. A man of integrity. And you wished you had met him a long time ago, long before you had been swept away by Tony and his gang. But he had rolled in with a new wave of field workers just this last time that you were dropped off here and you knew you were running out of time to spend with him cause Tony would eventually be back.

<><><>

~Capture

Your hymn came to an end and a smile tugged at your lips, seeing your uncle smile at you from beside the front of the crowd. Your uncle thanked you for your uplifting song before taking your place in front of the small crowd gathered in the small village square as he began to share passages about abundant life through God’s word.

Your uncle had been your only family left since your parents had caught the winter flu three years ago. Slowly, your village had grown smaller and smaller as people left as so many had perished from the sickness. As if they could not bear it to be in the same spot that they had lost loved ones. Which eventually meant that your uncle made the decision to go to the road with you. You had been his caregiver since before your parents death as his gait was getting worse. He had been injured when he was thrown from a horse, but his spirits were never down. He loved continuing to do his life’s work as a pastor and you were happy to assist him. It allowed you to see more of the land and you enjoyed experiencing the travel. And singing was a passion which you were thankfully granted gift with. Plus… love was never far from your mind. Passing the word of God was the last priority on your list, love being first. Selfishly, you would only admit that to yourself.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a young boy watching the crowd from behind a pillar on the general store. You gave him a kind smile and waved your hand gently to invite him towards you. He shook his head vigorously and gestured urgently for you. Your smile faltered a little at his strange behavior, but you shot a look at your uncle before picking up your skirts and beginning to walk towards the boy.

As you approached, you asked sweetly, “What’s your name?”

“Peter,” he answered quietly.

He looked to be around ten or eleven, not too short but clearly had not reached his growth spurt yet.

He shot a look over at the bank across the square before grasping your hand tightly. He started to walk off in between the general store and the tavern, you only stumbling for a moment before deciding to allow him to pull you along with him. He was moving quickly.

“Is there something wrong?” you asked him, something inside beginning to stir with worry. Why was he taking you away and where were his parents?

“Come with me!”

“What are we doing back here?”

“Safety,” he answered over his shoulder.

Something was very off. You quickly looked around, past the ends of the buildings towards where the fields began. There was nothing in sight except the mountains in the distance and the cows standing together. Yet it did not feel right, the energy the boy was giving off. You stopped before you reached the ends of the buildings, still shielded between the two.

He grasped your hand again and began to try to drag you again. You stopped him and firmly said, “What’s going on, Peter?”

“I’m trying to make sure you are safe. It is important,” Peter responded. “Our horses are back here.”

“What do—”

You started to ask him for an explanation but suddenly a loud bang rang out from behind you. Screams followed shortly after. You stood straight, eyes zoned in back down the path between the general store and the tavern. Another loud bang and another and another before it registered with you that they were gunshots.

Your uncle!

Tearing your hand away from Peter, you gathered up your skirts, running back towards the gunfire. You did not make it far because someone came down the path suddenly and you skidded to a stop, unsure if they were friend or foe. Your answer was given quickly when they were shot in the back and blood splattered down your front and onto your face and neck. Your mouth fell open in horror as the man fell to his knees, falling face down in the dirt. Another man was coming up the path now, a bandana across the bottom half of his face, cowboy hat shadowing the top half. His gun was pulled, and he was coming straight for you.

“Uncle Bucky!” you heard Peter shout from behind you. “Not her!”

“I know not her,” the man – Bucky – said before he still pointed his gun at you and a sob welled in your throat, thinking he meant to shoot you. Instead, he threatened, “Turn around and quick!”

Terrified, you did as he asked and felt him keeping pace right behind you. He was not digging the gun into your back, but you had the feeling of it aimed directly at your back.

“You do anything stupid, and I might forget I’m not supposed to shoot you,” he said, confirming what your senses were telling you.

Behind the tavern were two horses – the ones Peter must have been referring to. Bucky threatened you to get on the bigger horse as Peter swung himself up into his saddle on the smaller horse. You grasped the horse’s reins as Bucky threatened you to ride the horse; he had you in the saddle.

As you took off, you felt him turn around and tears blurred your vision as you tried to guide the horse. You kept behind Peter, trying to blink the tears away. The gunshots died behind you, the wind in your ears. You became aware that suddenly you were being followed and you risked turning your head to look. Bucky was not threatened as he did not draw his gun and whistled, which was met with a twin whistle back. They were traveling together.

Another rider gained and took the lead in front of Peter and lead you towards the mountains. You would surely be lost. You had no idea about this area and where the next town was.

When the company came to a stop, you immediately tried to jump off the horse, but Bucky wrapped his arm tight around you.

“Whoa, there, darling. Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he grunted.

“Let me go!” you shrieked, the panic rising in your throat.

Where were you? What had happened to your uncle? Who were these men? A million worries were crashing into you.

“Get her down here!” the man who had been leading the group since he joined you in the plains barked as he came towards Bucky’s horse.

Bucky and someone who came up from your side began to strong arm you down. You thrashed, trying to scratch at the other man’s face.

“I oughta fucking—” he grunted before pinning your arms painfully to your sides and then twisting them around your back. His grip was bruising on your wrists.

Whipping you around, he forced you to face the lead man. He was sauntering now as he approached, his bandana pulled down now around his neck, exposing his face. His chestnut eyes were running up and down your frame. Heat came to your cheeks, your mind going to a dark place fathoming what was rolling around in his as he raked his gaze. He came to a stop in front of you. You did not miss the blood splattered on the sleeve of his shirt. His beard was trimmed nicely despite the dirt around his fingernails and the smell of sweat from riding.

A sudden smirk, “Well, well, songbird…” Your brow furrowed slightly, and he said, “Even in the midst of the job, I still got to appreciate that performance. Granted, not my usual type of music but I’d listen to anything you would sing to me.” It was his turn to pinch his brow before he asked, “How’d you end up on Bucky’s horse?”

“You said she was pretty,” Peter piped up, catching everyone’s attention. He went red in the ears seeing everyone’s eyes on him. He pushed on, a slight nervousness to his voice, “That she sang like a bird. I… I thought you wanted to take her.”

The man was staring at Peter, sizing him up. You were staring at him as well, mortified that such a young boy could do something so deceitful. But seeing who he ran with, men you were quickly gathering were bandits, should you even be surprised?

“You’re right,” the man said, turning his gaze back to you. His hand came to the side of your face, and you jerked your head away. That only caused him to chortle in amusement. “You’ll take a liking to me sooner or later, darling. Trust me.”

It would not be until when you got the courage to ask that you would learn your uncle had tried to save someone and taken a bullet himself.

No one was coming for you.

[explosiongamora]

Being mostly unloved your whole life with out much attention from people around you 🤝 loving obsessive yandere characters

[spider-stark]

INFINITELY YOU

part two // crullers & constants

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

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

WORD COUNT - 4.2k

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

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

Peter Pan Donuts is a sacred place. 

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

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

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

Or, at least, none that mattered. 

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

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

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

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

And Peter never even asked why. 

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

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

And how true that must have been. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he?” 

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

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

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

“Well did he have anything useful?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mj happened.” 

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

“Yep. That’s the one.” 

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

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

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

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

You sucked in a breath. 

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

His brow snapped up. “What changed?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not pretending-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

series masterlist

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

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

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

[scarletlizzard]

Sessions

Summary: You have a shadow. A presence, a stalker, who has been haunting you. Is this shadow real? Or is it someone your mind has conjured up to help you cope with your mundane reality? With the help of a familiar psychiatrist, you find out if you've blurred the lines of delusion and reality or if your shadow really does exist.

Parings: psychiatrist wanda x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: stalker, dark fic, multiple mentions of mental illness/disorders, mention of weapons (gun, knife), eventual smut (I'll tag that specific post)

Part 1: Get Help

Part 2: Remembering

Part 3: Acceptance

Part 4: Cat and Mouse

Epilogue

A/N: Thanks for reading! Any comments or thoughts are greatly appreciated 💚

[thran-duils]

Key to the Garden (P.9)

Title: Key to the Garden (Part Nine) Summary: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Witch Reader (main pairing), but on the side, Dark!Tony Stark x Reader, Dark!Sam Wilson x Reader, Dark!Zemo x Reader. Y/N lives in one of the many fringe covens with her family along with a few other small families that did not want to be roped into the powerhouse coven community, Shield, ran by the Maximoff, Stark, Wilson, and Zemo witch and warlock legacies. Y/N’s grandmother had a run in with the coven community in her youth and she is mostly mum about the incident, but makes it clear that Y/N should stay as far away as she can from them. But when the Shield community discovers where their community is and demands they send someone to teach at their school for upcoming magical beings with threats and when it is demanded that someone from the Y/L/N family be the volunteer, Y/N does not resist to make sure no one else is subjected to them, much to her grandmother’s dismay. Little does Y/N know that a particular head in the community had been searching for them for a very long time and she is going to satisfy a very, very long held grudge. Word Count: 2,200 Warnings (more may be added): Non-con, dub-con, emotional manipulation, imprisonment, orgy, forced pregnancy, death, violence, 18+

Part Eight || Masterpost mobile || Fanfic masterpost

Wanda was waiting at the gates of the school when you returned, relief washing over her features as she caught sight of you. She came to the carriage door as it slowed and had the door open before it had fully stopped. She seemed to not be able to wait to have you back in her embrace.

Holding her hand out, she said, “You are later than we expected.”

There was no mistaken she had been worried by that fact.

You stood and crouched to get out of the carriage, taking her outstretched hand. She gave you a swift kiss and then a gentle one on your temple. Her eyes were skirting over your face, forcing a small smile as she waited for an explanation.

There had been reason for the delay. You had slept beneath the willow tree on your grandmother’s property with Bucky. Not entirely as comfortable as the last time you remembered. You wondered if it was age or if it was the pregnancy, or a combination of both for that matter. But you woke up the next morning, feeling livelier than you had. The willow always rejuvenated, and your grandmother’s was the one that called you home always. Bucky vowed to keep it safe and healthy while you were away, even more fervently since you told him the house was his. He had tried to reject your offer, but you told him you trusted no one to look after such a precious heirloom as this and he accepted. You doubted he would make the house his own and would forever feel it was not truly his but you could tell what the gesture meant to him.

“Bucky and I had our own rituals after the funeral. I figured the delay would not cause too much disruption.”

“No, no,” Wanda said quickly, shaking her head. “It didn’t. I was just worried something had happened on the road when you did not show yesterday. But Helmut sent Heisam down the road and he reported back to him that he had spotted you.”

“I thought I spotted him circling above,” you replied.

“That large of a barn owl is hard to miss,” Wanda returned as the castle servants were unloading your luggage. Ember nudged up beside you, pressing her nose into Wanda’s hand. Wanda gave her a few quick pats. “Sorry, Ember. Welcome back.”

Her eyes moved to behind you and you looked over your shoulder. Nyx was sitting in the doorway of the carriage, tail swishing in agitation. Her eyes were scouring over the school grounds. She caught sight of the pair of you staring at her and locked eyes with you.

Nothing has changed.

You sent back, Did you expect something to?

Nyx stood, trail straight up in an indignant fashion as she hopped down from the carriage.

No change puts me more at ease.

“I am glad to hear it,” you said to her retreating back. She was probably going to go make sure nothing was going on. You looked back at Wanda who was waiting expectedly. You shrugged, “She’s happy nothing on the grounds has seemingly changed.”

“I may win her over yet,” Wanda joked and you smiled, giving her another quick kiss.

<><><>

“Are you sure you should be traveling?” Sam questioned, leaning against the wall of the stable.

Wanda was overseeing the packing and loading of the carriage that her and Y/N were to take into the mountains in a day’s time.

Turning her head to lay eyes on him, she answered, “Y/N is only 6 months along. A few bumps in the carriage is hardly going to cause distress.”

“A ‘few’, Wanda? You are going up into the Everridge mountains. Hardly a smooth trip. And sleeping in a tent no matter how luxurious the mattress is.” Sam sighed and started again calmer, “I understand that you want to share somewhere you called home for so long with her. But can it not wait until she has given birth and the aftermath has subsided?”

Wanda came close, uncomfortably slow. Her eyes pierced Sam and he tensed. His back pressed against the wall with more force to grant him some space but to no avail. She was making sure the servants could not hear their conversation and also that he was paying the upmost attention to what she was about to say.

“Are you listening to yourself talk?” She inquired, her tone dripping with condescension. Sam’s jaw set indignantly, and she returned an unkind smirk. “You are telling me that you want me to take Y/N to a place that makes me happy after she has lost her child? I Hardly think that seeing old buildings and tall tress will bring her comfort in that heart wrenching time—”

“I didn’t mean right—” Sam tried to interject but Wanda bulldozed him.

“And why would I want her association with the mountains where I spent the decades of my life to be tied to that trauma? No, taking her now is to build a stronger connection with her, share something important with her. And by doing so, she will hopefully be provided more comfort from me when that trauma happens because of our relationship we have built. Do you see now?”

Sam looked insulted by her tirade, and it took a few moments for him to clear his throat to say, “Duly noted, Wanda.”

Wanda flashed him an exaggerated smile, “Good. Glad to hear it. I am taking precautions to reduce jolting in the carriage and make her sleep as comfortable as if she was sleeping in her own bed here. If I couldn’t do that, what kind of witch am I?”

Her smile fell in an instant, her annoyance with him clearly displayed in her expression. She turned away from him, ultimately dismissing him. Sam took the hint and left her to her business.

<><><>

Wanda helped you from the carriage and steadied you on your feet. The weather was crisp but with clear skies, the sun shone brightly. Your long coat was providing you warmth but you thought too much time in the direct sunlight would cause you to become uncomfortably warm.

Your eyes scanned the scene before you: old stone houses, most ruins and overrun with vines and other growth stood around you. You had been traveling in the mountains for a couple of days, only stopping to sleep at night. Only one of the old houses had most of its roof intact and you wondered if a charm could be set where there was a hole to allow the sleeping quarters to be set up inside – there was surely more than one room which meant all four of you could find shelter inside.

You wondered what the place had looked back before it was attacked. Where the gardens had been… what the gardens looked like.

Ember whined from the carriage, and you looked over your shoulder. She looked nervous to exit; you surmised she could sense something terrible had happened here.

“Stay,” you ordered her, giving her permission to stay in the safety of the carriage. Ember did not argue, stepping further back and laying down again.

You caught sight of Nyx walking around the perimeter of the old ruins, followed closely by Ophelia, Wanda’s own familiar. They were keeping distance from each other but were both clearly making sure the area was clear of dangers of their mistresses.

To Wanda, you said, “This is… quaint.”

Wanda chortled at your assessment. “’Quiant’?”

You explained, “It’s not what I expected.”

“What would have been expected?”

“Someplace… larger.”

“’Larger’?”

“You’re embarrassing me by continually quoting me.”

Wanda grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on the back. “My apologies.”

“I just mean that you have such a big presence. So much power. And… you know?”

“I wasn’t always this way. Believe it or not, I too once cowered from shadows in the night.” She winked at that. “And wanted to sleep with my parents for comfort when I had nightmares.”

She gave your hand another kiss, caressing gently with her thumb.

“Hard to imagine that,” you admitted, squeezing her hand back.

She led you away from the carriage as the two servants she had brought along with you began to set up camp in what felt like the middle of the ruins of the old settlement.

“The house there?” you questioned, stopping to point. Wanda’s brow furrowed. “Could we not sleep inside tonight? Charm the roof in case it rains?”

Wanda looked towards the house and quickly examined it before calling out, “The camp should be made inside that house there. Do you see? I will charm the roof when we return. But it’ll provide comfort for us all.”

The servants tossed looks at the house and then quickly went to start doing what she said. You suspected they were happy to be invited inside too. It was as if Wanda had been able to read your mind about the plan for all of you to be inside safely.

She began leading you away again. She was quiet as you walked, eyes searching, smiling when you saw a few rabbits dart out from some tall grass towards the forest’s edge. You wondered if Wanda was able to picture it just as it was. And if it was marred by memories of when it was attacked… was she seeing that too? She had only given you small details but you were happy she wanted to share this with you at all. This had been her childhood home. It was important to her and clearly held a deep wound still by how she was quietly moving through the place as if she did not want to disturb the forces that lingered.

You followed her lead, walking in silence with her when she came to a stop beside a small wall beside the remains of a smaller house in the circle. She reached out, placing her hand on the wall. Her eyes closed, taking a controlled, deep breath in. Her fingers slowly traced the crevices in the stone.

“I met your grandma here,” Wanda said finally in a quiet voice. Your eyebrows rose in surprise. “Right here. She was traveling with some others and we welcomed them in to find some reprieve for the night. The first time I saw her, she was wearing a blue, woolen cloak and she had a basket of thistleberries that she’d been collecting that afternoon.”

“Elena opted to stay for a few days and her companions stayed with her. Bucky included. We got along from the start, and I didn’t want her to leave and she didn’t want to either. She bid them to go on without her, to return home. She spent some weeks here with me and my family, learning our ways and also teaching us about her coven’s magic. We shared a lot of knowledge, and it helped us both grow. Weeks turned to months – her making sure to send word home to let them know she was okay. She fit in so well here and we got along so well.”

“After a while, she grew homesick understandably and she asked me to come with her to learn more from some of her elders. I agreed – although my mother was reluctant to have us two young women travel alone. I did learn a lot. I don’t regret going. I just… regret I didn’t see my parents and my brother again.”

She was staring at nothing, fingers clenched into the stone. She had gotten lost in her story telling, as if a dam had broken inside and she could not stop until the emotion choked her up.

Something snapped her out of her haze and she locked eyes with you.

“You weren’t here? When it happened?” you inquired.

“No,” she said thickly. “I was with her back with her coven. I came back to destruction… and ran right back to Elena, my only friend left.”

“I’m sorry,” was all you could think to say. You truly were sorry.

Wanda forced a smile, blinking back tears. She squeezed your hand again. “At least I had someone. Especially a friend who cared so much about me. It helped navigate the pain. I don’t think I would have made it without her there to support me.” She exhaled again and stated, “I should show you the meadow. The thistleberries are delicious and in early fall like this, they should be very ripe.”

It seemed she was done sharing for now.

You nodded in agreement, not wanting to press her any further into painful memories. She would divulge more of her past to you as time went on, of that you were sure. You would let her continue to open up to you in a manner she was comfortable with.

As you followed her again, you tossed a look over your shoulder at the wall where your grandma had once been. That wall was the meeting place that had spurred things into action that led you to where you were standing right now. What coincidence you were back right where she stood with the same exact woman that she had befriended.

[buckyalpine]

Impure

18+

This is so dark and fucked up and I should be doused in holy water because of this but imagine Step dad Bucky lusting after you and how fucking innocent you are. That pretty little silver ring on your finger is practically begging for him to ruin you. 

“You’re a good girl” He states, struggling to keep his voice neutral, the hint of a growl lingering in his tone as he takes your hand, nodding to the purity ring sitting on your finger. 

You nod, keeping your eyes away from his, trying to ignore the way your stomach churns, your body feeling warm feeling his rough calloused hand. Something about the way he looks at you makes you feel dizzy and weak in the knees, his steel blue eyes looking into your soul. 

****

You know its wrong but you can’t stop yourself, the throbbing between your legs aching. You’d always managed to ignore the feeling before but tonight you can’t. You sigh in relief letting your fingers rub the ache away, your body feeling hot at the new feelings tingling through your body, gasping when you brush over your clit. You speed up your ministrations, whimpering as you feel a deep pressure building in your core, shame and lust clouding your mind because you’re thinking about him. 

Little do you know you’re driving insane because he can hear every moan and whine dripping from your lips as he passes your door, his cock leaking at the thought of an innocent thing like you pleasing herself. He thinking about your pretty little hand, that damn ring on your finger, it taunts him. 

“What are you doing princess” Bucky cracked your door open, cocking an eyebrow, his eyes trailing to where your hands are in your panties, wetness dampening your sheets. You squeaked, pulling your dress down, trying to cover yourself, but its too late, he’s already locked the door, stalking over to your bed like a predator that's caught his prey. 

“I-

“Shh, let daddy take care of you princess” He whispered, sitting on the edge of your bed, moving his hand up to stroke the soft skin of your inner thigh. You whimpered, squeezing your thighs together, your eyes growing wide when he takes your soaked fingers, sucking your arousal off. He moaned, greedily lapping his tongue on your finger tips, holding your hand in place after he pulls away with a pop. “Let daddy help with that little achy feeling” 

You can’t even get words out, letting him spread your legs and pull your panties off, your tummy fluttering hearing him undo the zip of his jeans. He pulls them off enough to get his cock out, too deep in wanting to ruin your virgin cunt to care about preparing you. He rubs the tip of his cock on you, smirking at the way you moan, pleasured sighs slipping past your lips. 

“We-we can’t” You manage to stutter out, but your legs are still wrapped around him, your desperate pussy screaming. 

“It’ll be our little secret” He whispers, toying with the ring as he pushes his cock into you, groaning at the way you cry out, the stretch burning and pulsing. 

“Let me in baby, let daddy help you” He grunted, forcing his cock in all the way into you, thrusting immediately, getting off on the way you cling onto him, begging for him to slow down. 

“You can take it you little slut, you’re not a good girl” He taunts, leaking into you, smirking against your skin when you whine in protest.  

“Look at you, taking your step dads cock like a whore. Spreading your legs like a slut, craving cock, you’re dripping making a mess” He gripped onto your hand, growling at the way the silver ring glinted under your bedroom light, “Such a cute little virgin, have you thought about cock before princess? You ever thought about how it’d feel, having a man tear your pussy apart, letting him shove his dick into all your tight little holes?” 

“N-No!” You shook your head desperately, you’d always pushed those thoughts away, refusing to give into sin, saving yourself for the right man. 

“Then tell me baby, who were you thinking of when you were playing with your princess parts” His eyes bore into you, challenging you as he sped up, pounding you into the mattress. 

You whined, biting your lip, not wanting to say anything, trying to hide your face from him, how could you tell him you were thinking about-

“Thinking about your step dads cock huh, is this how you wanted me to take care of you baby? This is what you needed, your slutty little pussy needed her daddy to make her cum?” His hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing the sides, forcing you to look at him. 

“You’re running around with this pretty little ring around as if you don’t think about my dick inside you? As if you’re not wetting your bed, rubbing yourself, trying to make yourself feel good but you can’t. You need my cock baby, you’re just a filthy cockhungry whore”

“M’not a whore” you whimper, a soft little pout on your lips making Bucky even more feral than before. He bit your bottom lip, tugging in between his teeth as he continued to slam in you, groaning at the way your eyes rolled back. 

“Shhh, take it baby, my dirty little girl, not so innocent, are you?” 

“I am” you sob out, clenching around his cock, your juices squirting out of you as you climbed higher and higher. Bucky could feel his balls throb, ready to bust in you, his cock throbbing at the vice grip you had on his length. 

“C’mon baby, you know you want to, you know it’s wrong huh? You know it’s bad, good girls don’t to that, good girls don’t think dirty thoughts” He taunted you further, a wicked grin curling on his lips at the way you fluttered at his words. “Good girls don’t spread their legs like this or play with their little pearls, you know that right baby? Good girls wait till marriage, but not you huh princess?” 

Your moans grew louder, throwing your head back as you felt the pressure build again, pleasure and tightness making your cunt throb around his cock. You bit down onto his shoulder making Bucky growl in pleasure, unable to hold off any longer. He started to jack hammer into you, warmth crawling from the base of his cock to the tip of his cock. 

“Cum, cum all over your step dad’s cock, get my dick wet you slut, give me your sweet cream baby- FUCK” Bucky roared against your skin, flooding your cunt with his cum, fucking it back into your sore pussy. He hissed as he pulled out, tucking his cock back into his pants, trying to ignore the way he wanted to take you apart again immediately after. 

You panted, fiddling with the ring on your finger, gasping when he grabbed your hand before you tried to slip it off. He pushed it back down, kissing your hand before coming down to brush his lips by your ear. 

“It’s our little secret, remember?” 

[spider-stark]

INFINITELY YOU

part one // back at the beginning

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

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

WORD COUNT - 5.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She was dead—Aunt May was dead.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it still made you angry.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

Understand.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You weren’t used to this.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was different, somehow.  

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

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

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

But Peter wasn’t like other people.  

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

His eyes couldn't lie, though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It wouldn’t bring May back to life.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It doesn’t matter if you need me,” you retorted with a defiant tilt of your chin, unwavering as his rageful gaze seemed to pierce through your skull, “because you’re stuck with me either way.”  

You hadn’t expected the statement to affect him, but it did, his voice softening slightly. “I always have been.”  

“Exactly. So you might as well make this easy on the both of us and not fight me on it,” you declared, trying to conjure up the most convincing smile you could offer. “Let me help, Peter.”  

A sigh slipped his lips, heavy with reluctant resignation as he realized he wasn’t winning this battle. “We’ve already lost so many people… I’ve lost so many people. And there’s already enough blood on my hands,” he said, lifting his hands to display the torn, blood-stained fabric, driving his point home. “It doesn’t matter what I say—so let them stay here or don’t, I don’t care. But just know that whatever happens to you, it’s not on me. Because I told you to stay out of it, alright?”  

He took a step closer, and you didn’t dare move a single muscle as his lips hovered just inches from your own. “Do whatever you want,” his voice was barely a whisper, laced with a venomous edge that nearly made you tremble, “but don’t expect me to come running to save you when it all goes to shit.”  

His words hung in the air like a curse, lingering in the lobby for far longer than he did. As soon as the promise had left his lips, he was already turning on his heel and shoving the door open, abandoning you in the dim space.  

You knew better than to think he meant it.  

But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.  

You stuck your hands beneath the running faucet, scrubbing the blood from a jagged cut on your palm. It wasn’t all that deep, shallow enough that it probably wouldn't even leave a scar once healed. When you were done rinsing it, you cupped your hands and gathered the water in them, splashing your reddened cheeks.  

Crying would have been a normal part of grieving for May, and when you forced yourself to look back at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you couldn’t help but wish that you could’ve been a little more normal.  

But tears hadn’t been the cause of your flushed appearance—no, because you had never been very good at expressing the more delicate emotions, like sadness.  

You were good at expressing anger, though.  

You were very good at expressing anger.  

After Peter had stormed out of the lobby and abandoned you to choke on his cruel promise, it had taken you several minutes to work up the nerve to go back upstairs and face Mj and Ned. By some stroke of luck you had managed to keep a tight leash on your often volatile attitude, telling them your decision to let the other Peter’s stay with you.  

And then you lost control as soon as they left, loosening the reins on your anger and taking the uncomfortable feelings out on a nearby potted plant, shouting curses as you tossed it at the wall.  

By the time you thought to clean it up, after finishing another string of irate profanities, your hands had been shaking so bad that you cut yourself on one of the dirt-covered shards. And maybe, once you felt the jagged ceramic dig into your palm, you should’ve hissed or cursed more or stopped cleaning to patch yourself up.  

But you didn’t. You stayed quiet, continuing to pluck the shattered fragments off the floor until you had gotten them all, dumping them into the trash before grabbing the broom and dustpan and cleaning the dirt and scattered leaves, too.  

There were more important things to deal with than cleaning a dirty wound.  

Like making sure none of your friends could see that you weren’t nearly as composed as you tried to seem.  

The familiar rhythmic rapping of Mj’s knuckles against the front door made you forgo the bandage you were going to fix to your palm, tossing the rag you’d used to dry your face into the sink and heading straight to the living room.  

Carefully shoving your injured hand into your pocket, you opened the door and tried not to look surprised when Peter wasn’t standing in-between Mj and Ned. Of course he hadn’t come with them—why would he? He had already made it clear how he felt about all of this.  

It did become significantly harder to mask your shock however when a tall, messy haired boy stepped into view from behind them, clad in a crimson and cobalt webbed suit.  

“Get inside,” you hissed a bit harsher than intended, stepping aside and waving the three of them into your apartment.  

The last thing you needed was your neighbors seeing an unmasked, alternate version of Spider-Man standing in front of your door. It had already been risky enough that Peter had come here in his suit, standing in the lobby and sticking out like a sore thumb.  

Once they were inside, you shut the door and turned to Ned. “I thought you said there were two of them,” you noted, avoiding looking at the lanky Spider-Man who seemed just as desperate to avoid you, busying himself with walking around the room and studying the art on the walls.  

Ned shrugged. “He didn’t wanna come.”  

“Not that he didn’t want to come,” Mj pointedly corrected him, frowning at his bluntness. “He just wanted to keep patrolling. The Goblin, the one who…” she cut herself off, unable to force the words off her tongue. Scrapping the sentence altogether, she started again, “The Goblin’s from his world, so he seemed to think that he had the best chance of hunting him down. But we gave him the address.”  

You didn’t bother giving her an actual response, a subtle nod the only sign you had heard her at all. She didn’t seem to care much, just as unsure of what to say to you as you were to her.  

“So,” Ned clicked his tongue, trying to cut through the growing tension. “This is Peter 3!” He announced, gesturing to the other Peter, who was picking up a frame that had been face down on an end table. “That’s what we’re calling him, at least. Y’know, to tell them apart. The other one is Peter 2.”  

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Creative.”  

Done dawdling over Ned and Mj, you forced yourself to look at the un-masked hero from another world. He was placing the frame back onto the table—not face down, as he had found it, but up-right. You frowned at the photograph it displayed, a picture of you, Ned, Mj, and Peter from sometime last year.  

“You’re awfully nosy,” you told him, your voice like ice.  

His muscles tensed, hesitating as he faced your gaze. “Sorry,”  

His voice was slightly deeper than Peter’s, his hair a shade or two darker, his features a bit less soft, but still noticeably young, putting him in his early twenties at most. Truthfully, if it weren’t for the suit he was wearing, you would’ve never guessed that he was supposed to be the Peter Parker of another world.  

You had expected him to be more… Peter-like, in appearance, and yet as far as you could tell the resemblances were very slight, if they even existed at all.  

The mannerisms were there, though. The subtleties of Peter Parker, the things that most people never noticed and yet were ingrained in your mind. He licked his lips, a nervous tic that left you always carrying chapstick in your pocket. His hands hung at his sides and you saw the way his thumb tapped against each of his fingers, starting with his index and ending with his pinky, only to start over again.  

Watching him, taking note of every familiar twitch and tic and habit, made something in your chest tighten.  

And, when you told him your name, it was as if your icy tone had melted altogether. “It’s nice to meet you.”  

For a moment you thought he wouldn’t respond, his throat bobbing as he swallowed roughly, eyes darting around the room. But then, suddenly, he gave you a weak smile. “You too.” A trace of amusement laced his response, too subtle for you to detect.  

“We’ve gotta go,” Ned suddenly spoke, jutting a thumb towards the door. “Peter’s waiting outside so he can make sure we get home safe, but-” he stopped, brows furrowing as considered whether he should finish. “But text us later, okay? Just to let us know that you’re okay.”  

Your heart stuttered at the mention of Peter’s name, at knowing that he actually had come—even if it hadn’t been for you—but you didn’t mention it.  

Instead, you focused on Ned, giving your sweet friend the kindest smile you could muster—which, admittedly, didn’t feel like much. Despite everything that had happened with your friends in the past few months, your fight had never been with Ned. He was just caught in the middle, unfairly forced to pick sides.  

And you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him for picking Peter. Not when you knew that you would’ve done the same.  

“I will,” you promised.  

Ned gave you an equally somber smile before opening the door to leave. Even once Ned was in the hall, already descending the staircase, Mj lingered in the entryway—not for long, a heartbeat, maybe—turning back towards you just long enough to mutter, “Keep your guard up.”  

You didn’t have a chance to say anything back to her before she let the door slam shut, following quickly after Ned and leaving you alone with… this guy.  

The other Peter had abandoned his spot by the end table, seemingly done with investigating your apartment and left to do nothing but stand awkwardly a few feet away from you, clearly unsure of what to do or say now that it was just the two of you.  

“So,” you breathed out, popping your lips. “Peter 3, yeah? Good name. You go by that back home, too?”  

He laughed, a suit-clad hand nervously rising to the back of his neck. “Uh–yeah, no, definitely not. Just plain ole’ Peter Parker over there.”  

The nervous energy radiating from the boy almost seemed contagious as you started to pick at your nails. “Do you have a nickname?”  

He blinked, looking as if he hadn’t heard a word you said. “Sorry, what?”  

“A nickname,” you repeated, only for your brows to then furrow. “You have those where you’re from, don’t you? Nicknames? Like, you know, something you go by other than your actual name?”  

“Oh! Yes—sorry, yes we have nicknames in my world,” he exclaimed, his pale skin starting to flush.  

“I just thought that this whole numerical system thing that Ned’s going with to keep track of who’s who seems a little dehumanizing, yeah?”  

“For sure,” he agreed, sucking on his lip as he nodded along with you.  

You gave him a second, waiting and waiting for an answer to your apparently long-forgotten question, before asking, “So… Do you have one?”  

The slight blush that had tinged his skin instantly darkened, suddenly the same shade of crimson as his suit. His grip on the back of his neck tightened, too, his fingertips prodding into his own skin.  

“Sorry-” he apologized for the millionth time, more nervous laughter spilling out alongside it, “I do! I mean, sort of, I think. I don’t know if it’s really a nickname, but back in my world you really just called me by my last name most of the time anyway, so–I don’t know—maybe that would work?”  

The sheer quantity of word vomit spewing from his mouth was impressive and likely hard-to-follow for most, but you consider yourself a bit of an expert in the anxious ramblings of Peter Parker.  

“In your world?” You echoed, instantly catching the subtle mention. “We know each other?”  

Maybe it shouldn’t have been shocking to learn that there were other versions of you throughout the multiverse as well, and yet it was. You figured that it was plausible, of course, considering that two variations of Peter had just been thrown into your world, but for some reason it just didn’t feel right.  

You reasoned that anyone would feel that way, though.  

“Yeah,” the boy, Parker, answered, a bit clipped. “We do.”  

“Interesting.” Your brows lifted, “Are we friends?”  

Parker scrunched his nose, his head tilting slightly.  

“Yeah,” his voice was an octave higher than before, and if you knew him better, then you likely would’ve called him on the obvious tell. But you didn’t know him, and so you didn’t say anything when he decided to double-down on the lie, “Yeah, we’re friends.”  

“Well I guess that means that this is just as weird for you as it is for me, then.” You laughed, trying to add some humor to the situation.  

Parker gave a tightlipped smile. “Definitely weird.”  

The seconds felt like they stretched into minutes after that, silently racking your brain for something to say, hoping that he might say something—but, eventually, you settled on offering an escape from the situation instead.  

“You’re probably exhausted from the whole multiversal travel thing, so if you want, I can just show you the guest room and give you some privacy or something,” you told him, vaguely gesturing towards the hallway.  

Parker seemed to relax a bit at the prospect of being alone, loosing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Uhm–yeah, that’d be great, actually.”  

He followed you down the short hall, his hand finally falling from his neck and his skin returning to its normal complexion as his nerves began to wane.  

“This is it,” you told him, the hinges crying out as you shoved the door open. “It’s not much, but it’s somewhere to sleep, at least.”  

Wasn’t much felt like an understatement, though the room was typical for a New York apartment.  

A tad bigger than your average shoebox, there was just enough space to fit a full-sized bed, a small armoire, and a single nightstand adorned with an old desk lamp and a little pink teddy bear—a gift from Peter, years ago.  

Parker walked into the room, looking around and brushing his fingertips against the emerald quilt. It was a bit old and somewhat thin, but it was better than nothing you supposed, and Parker certainly didn’t seem like he was going to complain about it.  

“It’s great,” he assured you, and even though he did sound genuine, you couldn’t help but snort. He looked over at where you still stood in the doorway, giving you a timid smile as he said, “Way better than sleeping on the streets.”  

You returned the gesture, lazily lifting a shoulder. “We’ll see if you still feel that way in the morning. That mattress is about a hundred years old, so it’s probably the equivalent of sleeping on really lumpy cement.”  

Parker hummed his amusement, carefully perching on the edge of the bed, his smile seeming to deepen when he caught sight of the little bear on the nightstand.  

“I guess I’ll let you get some sleep,” you told him, reaching for the door handle, “if you need anything—extra blankets, or something—just let me know; my room’s right across the hall.”  

He muttered his thanks, but as you went to pull the door closed, you heard your name fall from his lips. It was strange sounding, strangled and foreign, like he didn’t quite know how to say it. When you turned back to face him, a subtle wince seemed to etch across his face.  

“Can I… Can I ask you something?” Parker stammered out the question, his voice faltering like a candle flame in the wind.  

You nodded once, fingers still wrapped around the knob, savoring the coolness of the brass against the now-clotted wound on your palm.

He took a breath, his gaze momentarily flickering back to the teddy bear on the nightstand. His thoughts felt heavy on his tongue as he tried to force them out of his mouth, “Are you happy?”  

You blinked at him, unsure of what to make of the hope that seemed to cling to each syllable and half-wondering if you’d heard him right.  

“I-” you tried to start, only to realize that you had no clue what to say.  

There was a fleeting moment where you realized that you could tell him the truth. You could tell him that happiness felt like a distant shore far from your reach, forever obscured by the fiery tempest of a brutal and ancient rage—a rage that, sometimes, didn’t even feel like your own.  

But then he looked at you with those big, expectant eyes; eyes that should have been foreign to you, and yet felt so familiar—and you realized that he wouldn’t like that answer.  

Sucking in a breath, you evaded his question as best you could. “Ask me again when all of this is over,” you told him, your lips curving into a soft, playful arc, “and maybe I’ll tell you the truth.”  

This time when you went to close the door, he didn’t stop you.  

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a/n - i wish that i could properly express just how amazing (and terrifying) it has been to rewrite this story. first created at quite possibly the lowest point of my life, infinitely you has provided me with a necessary escape at a time when i desperately needed it. now that i'm in a better position, i found it necessary to give it the plot, writing style, and dedication that it deserved. i'm aware some people might not be interested in a rewrite and that's ok, but for those that are i just wanna say: thank you, thank you, thank you for giving infinitely you (and me) another shot. you're incredible.

if anyone would like to be added to the tag list, just let me know! as of right now, chapters will be posted every other monday, though i may switch that to weekly soon!

part two, titled "crullers & constants", to be released april 1st