elliott-calls

Elliott

“Don’t set yourself on fire to keep others warm. But, be a fucking ray of sunshine☀️”

371 posts

Prince Charming

Pairing: Dark!Best Friend!Mob!Peter Parker x Barnes!Reader

Summary: After your father can no longer protect you, you are arranged to marry your best friend.

Warnings: sexism, misogyny, talks and mentions of the mob/gangs, arranged marriage, mentions of killing, bullying and blood mentions in flashbacks, Reader is spoiled, mentions of anxiety and nervousness, smut (18+) MINORS DNI, face sitting, oral f receiving, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), loss of virginity, breeding kink, housewife kink?, although this is a dark fic, all smut will be consensual, still your media consumption is your own, read warnings before proceeding

Word Count: 12092

A/N: I'm finally back! I've been working on this for a while and I'm so happy I finally wrote it! I honestly thought this was going to be 5k words yet here we are lol! I hope you all like it! Enjoy! 💕💕💕

Disclaimer: Reader is adopted by Bucky Barnes in this story, she is not biologically related to him. The photos used in the moodboard are also just my depiction of Reader and do not translate to how she is described in the story.

My work should not be copied, reposted, or translated with out my permission; I don't consent to it.

Peter walked along behind you, replying to emails and messages, and even answering a call once while you browse the many selections of luxury shoes. He nodded and hummed to each pair you liked and was glad when you finally selected a few to try on.

Breathing out a laugh, he loved the way your eyes sparkled when you kicked your current heels off and tried the new ones. Some were it and others not, but Peter was more than happy to share his opinion.

Especially when you kindly ask for it.

“I think these are cute,” you smiled, modeling the cheetah print red-bottoms to your best friend. “What do you think?”

He sat comfortably on the white leather bench they had in the middle of the store. His legs spread out wide while he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. You studied him as he thought about your choice of footwear.

Eyes were squinted in thought as he recalled all the other pairs you tried on. He knew which ones you already had on your list to purchase, you did have your father’s money to spend after all. And he knew what pairs you already owned, cheetah print not being one of them.

“The white ones seem more like you,” he referred to the last pair you tried on, rubbing his hand along his thigh as he straightened up a bit.

You liked those too, figured you could pair them with a nice dress or skirt. On the other hand, the cheetah print ones were fun and something you didn’t necessarily choose.

“But what about these?” you asked once more, wanting to know his exact opinion on the current heel you wore.

“I like them too,” he answered, breathing out a sigh, he knew you already had your heart set on getting those as well. “But, they’re not you,” he shrugged, a frown forming on your face when the words slipped past his lips.

Peter was always brutally honest when it came to what looked good on you. Hell, he had amazing taste and over the years you’ve come to realize he had a preference in what you wore.

“What do you mean?” you asked, brows furrowed, you glanced back down at the shoes, wondering how they’re not you. You loved heels, they were totally you.

“I just can’t picture you wearing them,” he explained, offering a small smile to deflate the blow. “But they are nice,” he added, seeing that he kinda hurt you.

The crease in your forehead only grew as you studied them in the mirror again, shifting from one foot and angling them in different positions. They were cute, dainty, and stylish- they checked all the boxes of your criteria, so how could Peter not see you wearing them?

Glancing back at Peter, he stared at you. He was waiting for you to make your decision and now seeing as he gave you his honest opinion, you considered that maybe he was right. He wouldn’t waste his breath if it weren’t true.

They just weren’t you.

“I’m not gonna get them,” you confirmed, reaching to take them off. “I’ll just get the white ones and the mauve,” you said, putting them back in the box, ready to return them to the kind saleswoman.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he stood up, blocking you from walking to the cash register. “I’m sorry, let me buy them for you,” he gently took the box from you.

“I’m not going to let you do that, I made up my mind already,” you argued, trying to grab the shoebox back, but he held it out of your reach.

“Princess,” he cooed, eyes softening as he stared at you. He smiled when you grew coy, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear while you cleared your throat. “I’m buying you these shoes,” he said in a more demanding tone.

“Okay,” you agreed defeatedly.

He passed you a smile before he helped you with the other shoes. The kind saleswoman waited patiently for the two of you, most likely knowing who Peter is and who your father is.

But she presented a warm smile when Peter slid the box of the cheetah print shoes over to her, her delicate hands placing them in a bag while adding them to the transaction.

“I’d also like to buy these as well,” he placed a hand on the two other boxes, the lady nodding all-knowingly before she read out the total amount, your stomach dropping- you couldn’t let Peter buy you three pairs of shoes.

“Peter,” you reached for his hand that already had his black card at the ready. “I just said the one pair,” you looked at him warily.

“Don’t worry about it, princess,” he waved you off, inserting his card before signing, the purchase complete.

Grabbing the bags from the counter, he gathered them along with the other bags you’ve collected from your purchase in previous stores and walked along your side out of the store.

“You’re too kind to me, Peter,” you finally said while you adjusted the few small bags in your hand, the bustling streets of New York filled your ears as you made it back to the car. He kindly opened the door for you before placing the bags in the back of his Lamborghini. “Where to now?”

“Unfortunately, princess, I have a meeting to attend with your father in an hour,” he sighed, shutting the door after him as he checked his watch for the time. “But I had fun as always,” he smiled genuinely, starting the car up.

“We have enough time for brunch,” you shrugged, passing him your best puppy dog eyes.

“I guess we do,” he breathed out a laugh when you squealed from excitement.

~~~~~

Seated outside the cute little restaurant in New York, the late morning sun shone on both of you. You read the menu, unsure of what to get. Usually, when it came time for brunch, you had more of a sweet tooth so your eyes were focused on the pastry section.

“Do you think you’re going to the gala this weekend? We missed you at the last one,” Peter questioned, pulling you from your thoughts.

Peeking over the menu, you caught him staring at you, wearing that adorable bright smile that sent butterflies to your stomach each time. Although, you always ignored them.

He was your best friend and your father’s ally- you couldn’t interfere with business.

“Yeah,” you sighed, placing the menu down. “It’s gonna be boring as always though, especially since you always leave me,” you leaned back in your seat, crossing your knees over the other under the table.

Galas were never an unusual occurrence in your life. One thrown almost every week for something you didn’t care enough to remember. Even though you had no intentions of joining the mob, being the daughter of Bucky Barnes made it difficult to separate that part from your life.

He was the most notorious man in all of New York, branded for his metal arm that he may or may not use to choke the life out of his victims. But underneath that emotionless thick layer was your loving father.

The man that adopted you as a baby and raised you as his. He cherished you, made you his whole world. Which led to the woman you are now.

“But the time I’m with you is always enjoyable,” Peter pointed out, sending you a toothy grin.

“You’re going to be busy networking with other mob leaders the majority of the time, I’m with you for like five minutes,” you stated, a chuckle ringing from him. “Besides, don’t you think it’s time you bring someone other than your friend?” you raised a brow, earning another chuckle from Peter.

“What are you trying to say?” he rested one hand on the table, fingertips centimeters from yours. His calloused hands are a complete juxtaposition from your perfectly manicured ones.

“That it’s time for you to get a girlfriend,” you answered, raising your brows and you reached your hand an inch forward to grasp his hand. “You need someone to ground you back to Earth when you get all hot-headed from work,” you joked, Peter rolled his eyes at your comment.

You saw the way he wanted to avoid this topic. You’ve brought it up countless times when you’ve realized he’s never been in a committed relationship. Even though you seem to have the same problem… but Peter was your main concern right now.

He only stared at your hand for what seemed like forever, but his eyes landed on yours only a few moments later.

“I have you for that, you ground me and I love having you as my date,” he affirmed. “Besides, what about you?” he cocked a brow, catching you off guard.

“Well, my time hasn’t come yet,” you said, shrugging, pulling your hand away.

His hand lingered on the spot yours was seconds ago before he cleared his throat, pulling it back near him.

“Waiting for the right guy, y’know?” you added and he nodded slightly.

Playing the waiting game was your forte. Someday you wish you’ll meet your Prince Charming. A man that will provide for you and protect you, be an amazing father to your children, and give you the respect you deserve.

Some days it seemed like that time would never arrive.

“What if mine hasn’t arrived either?” he tilted his head to the side. “Or maybe I’m just trying to play my cards right?” he shrugged, a glint in his eyes when you smiled wider.

Of course, you said to yourself, head bursting with excitement.

“Who is she?” your eyes lit up at the mention that he might have a girlfriend. “Do I know her? Is she cute? She’s probably cute,” you rambled on, telling him you have to meet her one day, Peter only laughed across the table.

“You know her,” he nodded. “But that’s all I’m going to say,” he stated firmly.

“No, don’t leave me hanging like that,” you whined, Peter shook his head not saying another word.

“I’m sorry, princess,” he partially apologized.

“You’re going to have to stop calling me that if you ever want to get a girlfriend,” you cocked a brow, Peter’s brows raising in amusement.

“Not on my list of priorities, princess,” he grinned before sipping his mimosa.

It was your turn to roll your eyes, the name he’s been calling you since high school made your stomach flutter. But you were willing to let go of the nickname if that meant he finally settled down, even as much as you would miss the way it fell from his lips.

~~~~~

In the following days, Peter had taken you dress shopping for the upcoming gala this week. You ended up picking one that would go perfectly with the mauve shoes you bought earlier. And with Peter being your second mind of judgment, you were quite happy with the selection.

Twirling in your new dress, you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, recalling the events that took place only days ago.

“Wow, princess, that’s by far my favorite,” he sat up when you pulled the curtain of the changing room back. His face radiated with admiration and his compliment made your cheeks burn.

“I love it,” you admired yourself in the mirror, loving how the material sat perfectly on top of your assets. “But I’m torn between this one and the brown one,” you huffed. “And I’ve already reached my limit for the week, Dad’s not going to be happy about that,” you bit your lip in thought.

“Let me buy them for you, wear the other one for another day” he proposed. “Mind as well treat my date right,” he stood up, stepping onto the platform to meet you. “Gotta have her in the prettiest dress,” he grabbed your hand, guiding you into a spin.

“You’d do that for me?” you gazed at him, faces inches apart.

“I’d do anything for you,” he grinned, eyes darting to your lips for a quick second.

You loved Peter with all your heart. He was sweet, caring, smart, and charming. There weren’t many men like him and you felt envious of the woman who was going to end up with him. But you just prayed and hoped that the man you fall in love with is just an ounce like him.

For now, though, you’ll be enjoying Peter being your date to events, feeling safe in his arm wrapped around your waist.

“Doll, you look beautiful,” your father smiled as you made your way down the stairs. “Is that a new dress?” he asked, taking your hand to help you with the last step.

“Peter bought it for me a few days ago,” you smiled, letting him place your fur shawl on your shoulders before looping your arm with his.

The way your father’s eyes lit up at the mention of your best friend was always amusing to you. There weren’t many people he liked, but Peter was able to place himself at the top of the list. From the beginning of your friendship in high school, after he beat up a boy for making fun of you, your dad knew Peter had to be kept around.

And he did, from that moment to college to now- your father has always seen Peter as your protector for when he wasn’t around. Not to mention the fact that Peter also came from a wealthy family and now is the leader for the Parker mob- it was impressive in his eyes.

Reminds him of when he was young.

“He’s a good man, I tell you,” he patted your hand. “I’d be lucky if I get to call him my son-in-law one day,” he sent you a look but you playfully rolled your eyes.

“He’s my best friend, Dad, nothing more,” you cocked a brow, stepping inside the elevator of the penthouse before you made your way downstairs where the chauffeur awaited the two of you.

The brisk air still shocked you even after living in New York for so long. The transition from winter to spring left some really warm mornings to colder nights. But as soon as you sat in the car, you relaxed when the warm air surrounded you.

Passing the buildings and skyscrapers of the city, the bright luminous lights allowed you to see inside the car and you glimpsed at your father who was staring worryingly at his phone. Your face fell and you knew something was off, but you also knew better than to ask questions.

Getting distracted, you saw you arrived at the gala, the door opened by the valet and your father graciously helped you out of the car before you were escorted to the lobby.

Your eyes instantly searched for that brown-headed man. Too preoccupied with that, your father chuckled as you wandered off, his hand reaching out to stop you so you could give the lady at the coat check your shawl.

Letting out a small “oh”, you passed her a smile. Your arms felt bare and a small breeze chilled the room. It was the entrance and with all the bodies filing in, it made sense. Just then, you felt a warmth rush through you when you felt a pair of hands on your skin.

“Princess, you look breathtaking,” he complimented, turning you around to face him to take in your appearance. He licked his lips softly, eyes so focused on every inch of your body.

You were too intent on taking in his appearance to notice. The navy suit that fit him so well, he looked sharp and you loved that he corresponded with you. Scanning your eyes upward, you landed on his face, his eyes staring at your lips again.

Smiling, he seemed to knock himself out of his trance and send you a sheepish smile. He didn’t think he’d get caught, but he composed himself quickly, adjusting his suit jacket.

“Ready to head in?” he nodded towards the door, taking your arm to loop with his.

“Yeah, let’s head in,” you replied, picking up the skirt of your dress and walking down the steps to the main ballroom.

Your father had already joined everyone else in the gala, most likely joining Sam and Steve for a quick catch-up before they divulged in business.

Peter had led you to your seats, a table sat in the corner of the ballroom by the entrance. Everyone seemed to gather in the middle, men talking amongst one another and the woman hanging on their arms as they smiled and nodded along.

Enjoying your time by tracing your fingers along the lines of his palms, it was quickly disrupted when his henchman approached, whispering something in his ear before he left. Sending you an apologetic look, you sent him one of understanding.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, letting you know he’ll be back before he walked out the backdoor.

Deciding a drink will pass the time quicker, you made your way to the bar. Ordering a cosmo, you took a seat at the end of the bar, the bartender making your drink quickly and the tart taste of cranberry juice hitting your tongue put you at ease.

Only for two seconds though.

Resting your head on your chin, you sat at the table, waiting for dinner to start so your father and Peter could come back. But checking the time on your phone, you realized that would be another hour at most.

Sighing, you decided to check your phone for any new emails on shop coupons or rewards you’ve received. Sadly, nothing was new and you were now scrolling through Instagram.

“You know a party is boring when the prettiest girl is on her phone,” you heard a voice from behind you.

Straightening up, you looked over your shoulder to find a blond guy smiling at you.

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the barstool next to yours.

“Sure,” you passed a smile, swiveling in your seat so you’re facing him. “What’s your name?”

“Harry, Harry Osborn,” he greeted. “And you’re Y/N Barnes, a pleasure to finally meet you,” his grin grew wider, blue eyes meeting yours as he gently took your hand and kissed the top of it.

Charming.

“You know who I am,” you tilted your head to the side as you felt yourself blush.

“How can I not? My father’s been working for your dad for as long as I can remember,” he let out a laugh, somewhat offended at your surprise.

“Ah, yes, Norman Osborn, don’t know how I didn’t make the connection,” you sucked in a breath, grabbing your glass for another sip.

Harry was a handsome guy, he seemed kind and was easy to talk to. You liked the aura he gave off, very relaxed yet confident.

“I rarely catch you here, you usually don’t make an appearance,” he leaned a bit towards you, sending you signals that he was intrigued.

“Galas are kinda boring, my father and best friend always leave me to go talk business, so I’m left by myself,” you sighed, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Well, now I’m here,” he smiled.

“I’m glad,” you flirted. “Not so lonely anymore.”

“If it weren’t for the open bar, I’d buy you a drink,” he smirked. “So how about I take you out?” he suggested, raising his brows.

“Hmm, keep talking and I’ll answer your question,” you giggled when he took on the challenge.

For the next fifteen or so minutes, you were talking with Harry about anything and everything. He cracked jokes here and there, making you laugh- to which he thinks is the most beautiful sound ever. The conversation was going so well and you were about to agree on his offer.

Unknown to your knowledge though, Peter strolled back into the main area after having a chat with a potential alliance. It went incredibly well and he was on his way back to the table to tell you all about it, but you were gone.

With a quick panic, he thought the worst, but he instantly heard your laugh. Thankful that you were safe, he still saw something he didn’t want to see. With a nasty taste left in his mouth, he stalked over to you and the strange guy.

“Princess thought I lost you,” Peter came up, pressing a kiss to your cheek that caught you by surprise.

“I got bored sitting at the table,” you frowned at him, his arm finding itself wrapped around your waist. “Ew, you smell like smoke,” you pinched your nose, pressing against him in an attempt to push him away but he didn’t budge.

You desperately hated the smell of smoke and ironically the two most influential men in your life smoked heavily.

“Who’s this?” he ignored you, staring at the guy with a hard gaze.

“Harry Osborn,” he introduced himself, offering a hand which Peter shook with a tight-lipped smile. “And you are?” he asked, wondering who the man that kissed you was.

“Her boyfriend,” Peter replied, your eyes widening in shock. “If you don’t mind,” he glanced between the two of you.

Without another word, Harry got up and left.

So much for meeting new people, you figured.

“Peter! Why would you say that?!” you smacked his arm, but he only rolled his eyes.

“Let’s just go back to our table, dinner should start soon,” he grabbed your hand and arm.

You let out a huff as you sat down, crossing your arms over your chest in defeat. Peter only sighed at your attitude, but to offer an apology, he placed his hand in your lap, hoping you’d continue to play with his fingers like before.

Gazing at him, you only scoffed at his hopeful eyes before crossing your legs, tilting your body opposite of him.

As everyone gathered back to the ballroom, taking their seats, your father appeared again, sitting right beside you and he was fast to notice your change in demeanor.

“What’s up with you, doll?” he furrowed his brows.

“She’s mad because I said I was her boyfriend,” Peter cut in, your eyes widening when he spoke over you again.

“I was talking to a guy and Peter shows up thinking he has some ownership of me,” you corrected, your father cocking a brow towards Peter.

“Sir, it was Harry Osborn,” he leaned forward, whispering his name. “I had to,” he shrugged.

And while your father understood that explanation, you were still lost.

“Peter did the right thing,” your father patted your knee in reassurance, but that only made you madder.

Semi-luckily, Peter saw through you.

“Harry Osborn is bad news, his father works for your dad but there are rumors he steals shipments,” he leaned towards you, taking your hand cautiously. “Your dad and I are trying to figure that out,” he elaborated, your gaze falling to your lap where your intertwined hands were.

“Oh, I didn’t know,” you frowned. “I’m so stupid, I’m sorry,” you groaned as you leaned into your chair, cringing at your idiocy, but divulging in the feeling of Peter’s thumb rubbing circles on the top of your hand made you feel better.

“No need to apologize, princess, I’m just glad nothing happened to you,” he pressed a smile before kissing your knuckles reassuringly.

“Me too,” you admitted.

~~~~~

“Are you sure you can’t even come over just for a little bit?” you asked, holding the phone up to your ear.

“I’m so sorry, princess, work has been hectic,” Peter explained on the other side of the phone.

You frowned and even though he couldn’t see, he knew you were sad.

“I just miss you, I haven’t seen you since the gala,” you trailed, walking into the kitchen to grab a snack. “When can I see my best friend again?” you asked, leaning against the marble countertop.

“As soon as I finish this deal with your father, then I’m all yours,” he hummed and you heard him file through different stacks of paper on his desk.

“Promise?” a smile grew on your face.

“Promise,” he reassured before hanging up.

A sigh left your lips as you shook with anticipation. You missed Peter dearly and the penthouse just seemed so bare without his presence. So quiet you could hear a pin drop. And so much so that you heard your father calling you to his office down the hall.

You made your way down, the soft orange glow coming from the ajar door leading you the way down the hall. Your father was seated in his black leather chair while he signed some papers, most likely shipment logs and inventory.

Walking in, you instantly felt the temperature change. The shudder that escaped your lips alerted him of your presence, a small smile making your way to your face when you grabbed the sweater you always kept in there.

“Hi, Dad,” you greeted before you took a seat in front of him, crisscrossing your legs.

“Hi, doll,” he passed a bright smile, but his eyes didn’t seem to match it. “I got some news for you,” he began.

“What’s wrong?” you already sensed that this wasn’t going to be something you enjoyed.

“It’s nothing bad, but I do want you to keep an open mind,” he shifted in his seat, clearing his throat.

Nodding along, you weren’t sure how hard that was going to be, but you wanted him to go on.

“You’re my daughter, Y/N, I’ve raised you as such but as you’ve grown I’ve made a lot of enemies,” he began, eyes dropping after they met your curious ones for a split second. “And because you’re not my blood, they won’t have a problem harming you,” he trailed, your brows furrowing when you listened to him.

“What does that mean, Dad?” you asked, gulping as you grew nervous.

“I can’t protect you anymore, doll,” he confessed, his gaze falling on yours. His stare was calm, eyes turned cold. You could sense the pain in them and he was fighting to conceal it when tears poured into his eyes.

“What’s going to happen to me?” you questioned, thinking he was either going to kill you or throw you out into the streets.

“If my enemies can’t see that you’re mine, blood or not, I have to ensure your safety through other means,” he started. “I have arranged for Peter to marry you,” he stated, your heart plummets.

Shaking your head you were quick to argue. You didn’t want to marry anyone, even if it was your best friend. It was too weird, too soon. There has to be another way.

“But, I’m your daughter,” you teared up. “You can’t do that,” you shook your head, body racking in cries as you wept. “You kill people for a living and you’re going to stop when my life is on the line?!” you began to hyperventilate.

“If they ever lay a hand on you, I wouldn’t hesitate to kill, but there’s too much risk involving this,” he stood up. “They’ll twist the words and make me the bad guy, risking your life even more,” he stalked closer to you, kneeling in front of you and holding your shoulders. “Peter will protect you, he always has and if you’re his wife, they’ll accept that,” he tried to convince you.

Shutting your eyes, you tried very hard to pretend this was a nightmare. Your father would never do this to you because you’re his daughter, blood or not. Bucky Barnes, the man that has held a notorious image for so long in New York and even across the country would never give up so easily.

He took down rival gangs in one night, he’s killed people without hesitation, he’s built an empire that many fear- how was he simply throwing you away?

“But he’s my best friend,” you cried into your hands, trying to rip away from your father’s hold.

You were angry, confused, terrified. Especially towards him.

He wasn’t the man you remembered throwing you princess-themed birthday parties up until you were eleven, the man that tucked you in every night, the man that handed you a thousand dollars every morning “just in case” even though you had his card in your wallet already; the literal man who picked you off the streets and raised you as his own.

“You can’t make me marry him,” you trembled when you look back at him, but your breath instantly caught in your throat.

He was crying, actually crying. Bucky Barnes was crying. All because of you.

“This was the only way, too many people have already threatened your life and I don’t know how I can live with myself knowing you’re in danger,” he dropped his head, his sniffles ringing through the air. “You know I love you, right?” he asked, gazing back up and gripping your chin to force you to look at him.

You nodded your head, blinking your tears away before you saw a smile growing on his face as he let go.

“C’mere,” he opened his arms, and you fell into his embrace, his strong arms holding you securely.

To think the way he protected you all those years like it was second nature. And as strong as he was, as a killer of a metal arm he had, it would no longer do justice.

And you had to accept that as your fate.

~~~~~

Dressed in your sage dress, you stood by your father as you waited for the elevator to reach the top floor of the apartment building.

You weren’t sure if Peter knew about this marital arrangement. You hoped he didn’t and he would deny the offer, letting you get back to your normal life. But, fate hadn’t seemed to be on your side the moment the elevators opened to his penthouse.

“Peter, good to see you again,” your father greeted, pulling him into a firm hug and handshake.

“Same here, Mr. Barnes,” Peter pulled away, smiling at the man. “Princess, it feels like forever since I’ve seen you,” he pulled you into a hug and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

You smiled as you hugged him, indulging in his touch and his scent, but he was too quick to pull away, grabbing your hand lightly.

“Shall we get onto dinner then? We have a lot to discuss,” your father spoke up, nodding towards the dining table that was placed right by the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Of course, I had my chef prepare all your favorites,” he squeezed your hand tighter and led you to the table.

Your heels clicked against the elegant flooring as he pulled you along. The table was set with an array of foods, all your favorites. Your stomach churned. As hungry as you were, you couldn’t fathom eating right now.

“And I got you these as well,” he pulled the bouquet from the table, offering them to you.

Your favorite flowers. The bouquet was so full and vibrant. You loved them.

“Thank you, Peter, they’re lovely,” you grinned, smelling them.

The two men smiled generously at your reaction, it was a good idea to get you in a good mood before everything was official between you and Peter.

Setting the flowers back down, Peter pulled your seat out for you and you thanked him once more before you situated yourself. It was not unusual to see Peter this happy, but there was just something about him tonight that was off.

Maybe since you haven’t seen him in weeks. Or maybe he was just extremely happy that he was starting his alliance with Thor Odinson. Either way, seeing him happy made the weight on your shoulders lighter.

“Say, Peter, quite the celebration you got going on,” your father voiced, a proud grin adorning his face once everyone was seated. “Heard you sealed the deal with Thor and now you’re engaged!” he cheered, the brightness illuminated on his face that matched the same energy as Peter’s when you looked at him.

“Wait, Peter, you knew about this?” you shook your head in shock, staring at the man across from you.

Many questions were flying through your head at that moment. How long did he know? How long was he hiding this from you? Why did he agree to it? And why did he seem so unfazed by it?

“Doll, it was his idea,” your father clarified, patting your shoulder as he chuckled. “And I was the one to pass him the opportunity,” he added, sending another pleased grin his way.

“Peter,” you directed back to him. “How could you?”

He blinked as he focused on you, his lips curving upward into a smile.

“Well, I was the only logical choice, I know you, your father trusts me, I’m financially well off, and I can bring you the protection your father can no longer give,” he shrugged like it was obvious, but you couldn’t believe it.

It was one thing that your father told you you were to marry Peter. But now hearing that Peter was the one to suggest it made your heart break.

The two most important men in your life were deciding your choices and it was scary. Your mind can’t even comprehend it.

“You’re my best friend, don’t you want to fall in love?” you baffled.

“Trust me, princess, this is going to be good for all of us,” he reached over to grab your hand. “And who’s not to say we won’t fall in love? We love each other already,” he breathed out a laugh and you shut your eyes.

This had to be a nightmare.

“As friends, not romantically,” you were bewildered, your eyes shooting open again. “What about my home? I have a life,” you tried to rip your hand away, but he kept his grip tight.

“We’ll get married by next Friday, you’ll move in with me, it’ll be a big change but you’ll live comfortably, never have to work a day in your life,” he reassured, squeezing your hand.

You glanced around the penthouse. It was nice, luxurious like your current home, but it wasn’t your home. Peter’s penthouse was very modern and manly. Sure it was clean, but it was too clean-cut and dark for your liking.

“I know my place isn’t up to your standards, but you can redecorate however you want,” he circled his thumb on the top of your hand. “It’ll become your home too,” he softly spoke, squeezing your hand once more before he let go.

“You are marrying yourself one hell of a guy, doll,” your father butted in, trying to offer some lightheartedness to the conversation but you couldn’t find it in yourself to receive that comfort. “C’mon, smile, you’re a bride now!”

Your father and Peter let out a roar of cheers, trying to excite you but you could only sit there. Futile in their attempts to hype you up, Peter decided it was best to carry on with the celebration.

“I had your favorite champagne flown in,” Peter hauled the bottle from the ice as he stood up.

And it was indeed your favorite, imported from France- the bubbles just seemed to pop more on your tongue and Peter knew. He bought you a bottle every year for your birthday every since you turned twenty-one.

“Picked it just for tonight,” Peter smiled. “We’re not just celebrating you, but us,” he winked your way, your father gushing with excitement that he reached over to pinch your cheek and all you can do was force out a hum.

You stared down at your hands. Your freshly manicured nails shone in the light, a baby pink shade that Peter picked out when you called him while you were getting your nails done. It was only a few days since and you wondered if he had known about this then.

The pop of the cork drowned out your thoughts, Peter and your father pouring the gold liquid into the glasses. You were handed one by Peter and it wasn’t a second later that you downed it completely.

“Woah, doll, slow down there,” your father patted your shoulder, letting out a playful chuckle as he looked at his future son-in-law.

“Don’t worry, she gets like that when she’s nervous,” Peter excused you, sending you a grin.

Of course, he remembered that about you. Why was it so aggravating to have him know so much about you? It felt invasive, there was rarely any secrecy, minimal surprises with Peter. He knew you better than anyone in the world and because of that, because of his lineage and status- your father only saw the perfect husband for his little girl.

And that made hatred bubble in your stomach as you stared back at him.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do this,” you placed your elbows on the table as you leaned forward. “Why?” you rested your head in your hands as you stared at your father and then Peter.

The two shared a look before Peter spoke up.

“You know why, princess, think of this as a good thing, you’re marrying your best friend,” he offered another smile, that twinkle shining in his eyes when he got real. “Isn’t that how you’re supposed to do it? Marry your best friend?” he shrugged.

“But we haven’t dated, I don’t know you like that,” you emphasized, repeating your reasoning.

“Doll, if you don’t want to marry Peter, then I guess I can’t guarantee you’ll be safe anymore,” he sighed, leaning back in his seat, biting the inside of his cheek as he allowed you to contemplate it.

You glanced over at him and you could tell he was sick of this behavior, he made it very evident that he was doing this for your best interest. While it appeared that you had already accepted that, your heart was not in it.

But the threat your father made unsettled you. Your father never went that far in his threats with you. Actually, he never went anywhere with them because you’re his daughter.

Why now, though? You loved your father with all your heart and the minute you glanced back at him and saw nothing but fear and worry, you remember why you had to do this.

“I’ll marry Peter,” you said more calmly, your father closing his eyes in content and you physically saw the load come off his shoulders.

“I promise you won’t regret this, Y/N,” Peter stood up, reaching into his suit pocket as he rounded the table.

You watched carefully, he didn’t rip his eyes from you once as he kneeled in front of you. A beautiful red velvet box was in his hands when he propped one knee up. He gently opened it, revealing a princess cut, gold banded engagement ring.

It was too simple to be considered grand but based on the size of the diamond- you wondered how much it cost. More importantly, you beat yourself up wondering how Peter knew this is the exact ring you always dreamed of.

“Y/N Barnes, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” he asked, a glint in his eyes.

You attempted to whisper a “yes”, but you solely nodded, too scared to say anything but he nonetheless gently slipped the ring on your finger.

As you stared at the diamond- it felt real suddenly. It fit too perfectly to be a coincidence and was way too comfortable on your finger.

Peter knew you, but how did he know this much?

~~~~~

Ushered out of your bed at six in the morning was something you weren’t expecting, even more, when you saw Nat was the one to pull you out of the bed. She didn’t even let you change from your pajamas before you were pushed into the elevator and into a car that took you to the venue.

You were very thankful though when she handed you your favorite drink from your favorite cafe the moment you arrived in the bridal suite.

It was too early in your opinion, the ceremony didn’t begin until two that afternoon and you wanted to know why you needed eight hours to get ready. Six hours would’ve been good at least.

“Wanda brought breakfast, you need to eat since you most likely won’t the rest of the day,” Nat placed food from a place right in front of you and you instantly heard your stomach rumble.

Both she and Wanda already had their hair and makeup done, now it was your turn and you still had two and a half hours on the clock left.

“Has anyone seen my phone?” you asked, realizing you haven’t been on it all day. “I want to text Peter,” you said, worry filling your voice. “Or maybe I can see him for a bit?” you thought, knowing even a few seconds would bring you ease.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Wanda approached you, glancing at you through the mirror.

“I don’t know, I’ll just feel better if I see him,” you shrugged.

“Oh sweetie, it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride,” Nat cooed. “If you want I can send him a message,” she suggested, but you quickly shook your head knowing it won’t be the same.

As bad as you wanted to be mad at Peter, you couldn’t. He was still your best friend at the end of the day and he knew how to make your nerves go away. He was always there for you...

“Peter, I don’t think I can do this,” you shook your head, watching as all the other students enter the front of the hotel. “What if the rumors are true?” you held onto your clutch as you stared horrified at the school.

Your senior prom was tonight, with many students gossiping about your reign of prom queen, other rumors have surfaced about your winning being sabotaged.

Possibilities of a scene straight out from Carrie or even worse.

Even with your father, some students had the balls to defy your name and bully you. Most of it was tolerable ever since Peter beat up that one kid, but there was still a bit of name-calling.

And now with the final nights of high school, those students figured they should go off with a bang- which was something you didn’t want to witness.

“I will make sure nothing happens to you, and if someone does try to pour a bucket of pig’s blood over your head, I’ll be the one to make them regret it,” he placed his hands on your upper arms, a reassuring look washing over his face.

“Okay, let’s go,” you smiled back, letting him grab your hand and lead you up the steps.

Turns out the rumors were true, but Peter caught the group of girls that wanted to dump tar on you before you went up the stage to accept your crown. And hell, did you look beautiful.

“You’re beautiful,” Nat admired as she placed the small tiara on top of your head. “What do you think?” she asked, turning you to face the mirror.

Your dress was a poofy a-line dress with a sweetheart neckline, a floral lace was decorated around it, and had beautiful off-the-shoulder puff sleeves. You looked stunning like a princess.

“I look like a bride,” you said truthfully, astonished by how perfect you looked. “But I don’t feel like one,” your gaze fell as you played with your fingernails.

“Don’t chip your manicure,” she slapped your hands away from each other. “Trust me, the moment you see Peter, you’ll feel like one,” she squeezed your upper arms reassuringly.

Nat was sort of your stepmother. She and your father had an on-and-off relationship your entire life. Both are too preoccupied with their businesses to truly focus on one another, though. In the past few days, you wondered where you'd be right now if she was your mom.

Maybe she’d have Bucky give you more leeway and you’d be marrying someone you loved. Not your best friend.

“Do you think my dad made the right choice for me?” you asked, staring at her in the mirror.

She let out a sigh as she pondered before offering a smile as she opened her mouth to speak.

“I think your father wishes he knew what was best for you, but because of his job, he is forced to make some bad ones,” she answered, adjusting a piece of your hair. “Forcing you to marry is one of them, but having Peter be the one is not,” she added.

You stared at her blankly, unsure of what to say.

“Peter is a good guy, he clearly loves you and is willing to do anything for you, you may not love him romantically, but give that time,” she rested her chin on your shoulder as she looked back at you.

She was right.

Peter did everything for you your entire life. Shopping trips, brunches, spa days, late-night calls even though he had an early shift the next day- there was no second-guessing with him. Hell, even with two weeks of planning this wedding, it was all: “Whatever you want, princess.”

Not to mention, he agreed to marry you.

Peter was your best friend and your protector. Maybe you did just need some time to love him that way. And hopefully, he will too.

A knock rang through the bridal suite, Wanda rushing over to open the door to reveal your father standing on the other side.

He was decked out in his tux, his beard and hair were freshly groomed. When he walked in, he wore a bright smile, Wanda and Nat making space for you and him.

“You’re beautiful, doll,” your father tears up, but he wasn’t going to cry in front of the other two women. “So grown up,” he sniffled as he grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on the top of your hand.

“Thank you, Dad,” you forced a smile.

“Almost time,” he sucked in a breath. “Until you’re no longer mine,” he frowned. “You’ve grown into such a wonderful woman,” he cupped the side of your face as he held your hand close to his chest.

You stared lovingly at your father. For all he did and sacrificed for you, the life he blessed you with. There was always going to be that time when you were no longer dependent on him- you just didn’t realize it’d be this soon.

“You raised me into one,” you said, voice cracking as you tried not to start a scene.

“Just remember you’ll always be my little girl,” he grabbed your face and kissed the top of your head and that’s what you needed to start the waterworks.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you breathed out, fanning your eyes as you gasped.

“Oh, doll, you’re just emotional, it’s your wedding day,” Wanda came up and quickly dabbed your eyes. “Bucky, I told you not to make her cry,” she directed to your dad.

“I know, I know, it’s hard,” he sniffled.

“There, all better,” she grinned, as she fixed your makeup. “Shall we get this show on the road then?” she asked, helping you with your dress.

Walking down the aisle gave you a rush of anxiety that you never felt before. The moment the doors to the venue opened and your eyes landed on Peter. He was dressed in a perfectly fitted black suit, bow tie tied perfectly around his neck. He looked rather dashing, always was anyway.

You passed him a smile that caused his smile to grow larger and that’s when you felt your cheeks heat up.

This wasn’t so bad.

The melody to the music continued to play as you proceeded down the aisle. Every single guest passed a twinkling smile, a few tears shed at how beautiful you looked. Perhaps it was the stares, but you felt your anxiety increase when you glimpse at each person you passed.

You barely knew any of them and as you began to take deeper breaths, you clutched your nails into your father’s arm and your bouquet. He tried to calm you down by rubbing your arm but it didn’t help at all.

Until you ripped your eyes away and focused back on Peter. His eyes filled with concern but the second you sent a look that you were alright, he let out a breath the moment you met him at the alter.

He reached for your hand that was passed on from your dad and his warm touch reassured you.

Everything was going to be alright.

Peter will take care of you, treat you as an equal, and love you. Someday, you might even renew your vows, reading the words you wrote for one another that were filled with love and passion because you truly loved each other.

But for now, as the officiant read off words of endearment you did your best to listen in, trying not to focus on your sweating hands that were held in Peter’s. You gave a pleasant smile as you recited your vows and placed the gold band on Peter’s finger.

“I do,” you replied when asked, Peter growing a bigger smile as he grabbed your left hand and eagerly placed the matching ring on yours, fitting right on top of your engagement ring.

“You may now kiss the bride,” the officiant said.

You batted your eyes in anticipation. This was going to be your first ever kiss with Peter and it was in front of hundreds of people- strangers. And while you seemed nervous, Peter gently grabbed your face and leaned in.

The kiss was powerful and unexpected. He knew exactly how to move his mouth against yours and it felt magical. The thought of kissing your best friend occurred in your brain once or twice, but this, this was so much better.

To seal the deal off, you placed one hand on his chest and deepened it. The shutter and flash of the camera made you jolt, prompting him to pull away with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.

He swiftly intertwined your hands together, leading you back down the aisle as all the guests applauded. He stopped right at the end, pulling you in for another kiss and the snap of the photographer’s camera startled you again.

He pulled away with a laugh, holding you close as you exited the venue.

“Mrs. Parker,” he gestured to the limo, a driver waiting with the door open as he guided you inside.

The name was going to be an adjustment to make, but it did have a nice ring to it.

~~~~~

The guests cheered as they gathered outside the reception, sparklers in their hands that created an arch for the two of you.

Peter grabbed your hand as you both walked down to your getaway car. Your grip was firm on his hand and you kept close to your new husband. All the cheering and shouts of the guest heightened your anxiety, but having Peter there seemed to put you at ease.

He held you close now, putting his arm around your waist snuggly as you approached the last few feet of the path. The photographer and videographer still stood by as they captured the moment he pulled you into his arms and dipped you for a kiss.

If the crowd couldn’t have gotten louder.

You waved goodbye to the guests, especially to your father before Peter was guiding you into the passenger’s seat of his car. He quickly circled before he got in, starting the car and you were off, the wedding-goers becoming smaller as you drove further and further away.

The skirt of your dress had ridden up slightly, prompting Peter to place his hand on your upper thigh. You both had changed into more casual attire- Peter insisting on you wearing those cheetah print heels he got you all those weeks ago and a nice coffee brown cocktail dress he also bought you. While he sported a matching brown button-up and khakis.

As dashing as he was throughout the night, there was just something about him now that made you grin from ear to ear. Although, it wasn’t like that was going to go anywhere. Even if you were married now.

You thoroughly enjoyed the reception. It just felt like a party and oftentimes you forgot you were the reason for the celebration. The countless clanging of silverware against the glasses encouraged Peter to kiss you. And of course, Peter would grab the side of your face and kiss you like he meant it.

You had your first dance first thing and while you were a trained ballerina for a good part of your life, your nerves seemed to get the best of you. Fortunately, Peter was your saving grace and he took the lead, drawing you close to him as he hummed along to the song in your ear.

The entire night, his touch brought your shivers. A tingly sensation that would draw up your spine and cause a rush of heat to your cheeks. He seemed to notice too because he touched you often. Unless he was just doing his part to sell that you were both in love.

In that case, he was a phenomenal actor.

And now after a long plane ride to Bora Bora- you finally arrived on your honeymoon.

Peter carried the bags as you made your way up the path. Your heels in your hand as you walked up the stone to the beachfront villa Peter owned. You turned back to look at the beach and the moon reflecting on the waves made for a beautiful scene.

As you were about to walk through the door, Peter stopped you. You furrowed your brows at him but you quickly let out a yelp when he picked you up bridal style.

“I have to stick with traditions, princess,” he smirked while he walked you through the threshold as you grew a small smile, wrapping your arm around his neck.

You took this time to take in all the beautiful amenities to the place, the kitchen and living room decorated to fit the aesthetic and everything just seemed so open and calm. You loved it.

The bedroom was even grander as you spotted the king-sized bed, rose petals shaped into a heart right on top of the duvet. There was a huge patio door leading to a private pool and another door that revealed a huge marble tub and a walk-in shower.

“How come you never took me here?” you asked, walking over to the patio to get a look at the view, admiring every inch of the place.

“I always planned on it, just had to wait for the right occasion,” he shrugged, walking up behind you. “Seemed like the perfect one now,” he whispered, kissing the back of your ear as he trailed a hand up your arm.

“You know you don’t have to do that, we’re alone,” you turned around to face him.

“Do what?” he furrowed his brows. “Being affectionate? You’re my wife, I think I’m allowed to do that behind closed doors,” he cocked a brow, wrapping his arms around your middle.

You were about to open your mouth to say something, but he beat you to it.

“C’mon, I have something for you,” he pulled away, hand brushing over yours. You straightened up as he walked over to his suitcase, unzipping it and filing through the different clothes before he pulled out a white material. “Put this on,” he held up a see-through lace nightie, your eyes widening at how small it was.

“Why?” you baffled, growing shy.

“You’ll look beautiful when we consummate our marriage,” he explained, his lips curving upwards as his eyes darkened with lust.

“Peter,” you muttered out, wrapping your arms around yourself. “You’re not serious, are you?” you looked at him with shock. “I didn’t think,” you trailed, letting out a breath as you stepped back.

“You think I wasn’t going to want to sleep with my wife?” he furrowed his brows, letting out a mocking laugh when he realized you were being serious. “I’ve played my cards right and I think I deserve my reward,” he stated, your eyes widening in shock.

“Peter, what are you talking about?” you questioned, growing worried, not wanting to admit to the truth.

“It was a simple plan, I knew you never wanted to do anything with the mob, you always wanted the simple life, be a doting wife and mother,” he shoved his hands into his pockets after he threw the nightie on the bed. “I love picturing it, you round and swollen with my child as you wait for me to return home,” he grinned, grabbing your hand.

You tried to pull away from him, but he kept his grip strong.

“I waited as we got older, I also knew about your father’s enemies, willing and ready to rip you to shreds just cause they can, so of course, I suggested you be married, a safer precaution,” he shrugged, lips pursing.

You felt more tears prick in your eyes as he carried on.

“I was ready to fight for my right to your hand, but I was surprised when he was quick to pick me,” he smiled proudly. “Obviously, I accepted his offer, now not only will I be the leader of the Parker mob, but Barnes will soon be under my name and I will have my beautiful, sexy wife,” he raked his eyes over your body, “right by my side.”

“Why would you lie to me?” you whimpered, you were so confused.

“I’ve been in love with you for as long as I could remember,” he reached up to cup your face. “I needed to make sure I had you, I hated lying to you, but now I’m being honest,” his face softened as he wiped away your tears.

“You love me?” you felt a pang at your heart when he nodded.

“More than life itself,” he added. “And I can’t wait for the day you love me just as much, but for now I can show you just how much I love you,” he stood up, leading you with him.

“I-I have never done this before,” you gulped when you realized what he was insinuating.

“I know, I’ll make you feel amazing though,” he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “So, please would you put this on for me?” he reached for the nightie again.

With shaky hands, you sucked in your tears before you nodded, taking it slowly and you took your time with venturing into the bathroom.

Now were you not only married to your best friend, but you had to sleep with him?

You closed your eyes as you undid your dress, your hands shaking when you slid the lacey, thin material over your head. You felt cold and bare. You didn’t even spare a glance in the mirror before you found yourself standing in front of Peter again.

He had stripped himself of his clothes, leaving him in his briefs. You had forgotten how much of a physique he had and you had to force yourself to stop staring before he caught on. And it was very evident that he was already hard.

“Princess,” Peter groaned, gaping at the sight before him. “You are so beautiful,” he ran his hands up your sides, a shiver escaping your mouth as you glanced at him. “So delicate,” he whispered, tracing his hands over your ass before they ran up your back.

One of his hands traced to your front, the lacey material giving him a gist of what your breasts looked like, his tongue outlined his lips while he pinched your sensitive peaks with his fingers.

Biting your tongue, you weren’t sure how that felt as good as it did, but Peter noticed and he let out a chuckle when you sucked in a breath.

“That’s only the beginning,” he stepped closer, grabbing the back of your neck.

His lips met yours again in an instant and you let out a soft moan when he ran his tongue across your bottom lip.

That was new.

Up until this point, your arms were stuck by your sides, but you lightly placed them on his sides, nails digging into his skin as you clung to him, enjoying the kiss.

He easily won dominance, one hand firm on your neck while the other explored every curve of your body. He was insatiable, so ravenous- part of you liked it.

The vibrations against your lips anytime he groaned when you raked your nails across his skin, the groove of his muscles made that spark ignite in your core. The sensation was weird and you felt unsatisfactory.

“Take these off,” he panted as he pulled away for a split moment, your eyes fluttering open. You felt his fingers play with the band of your thong before he slipped underneath and guided them along your legs.

“Peter, I’m not sure-,” you were cut off when he shushed you.

“That kiss was good, right?” he cupped either side of your face to make you look at him.

Your face heated up as much as you wanted to deny it, but you sheepishly let out a small nod, allowing him to lead you to the bed.

He pulled you into his lap, your core brushing against the material of his briefs and you let out a soft groan. Humored at your reaction, he laid back, placing a hand on your hip.

“Sit on my face,” he gazed up at you, a glint of hunger washed over his eyes and you stared blankly at him, unsure of what he meant by that.

“Peter, I-,” you hesitated, hoping for some clarification before you did what he told you.

“Come up here,” he ordered, squeezing your ass.

Your legs shook when stood and you wobbled as you hovered over him, your hand pushing down the material of your nightie to cover your exposed bits as you squatted above him, but he pulled your hand away and sucked in a breath when he caught sight of your core.

“Oh, princess,” he groaned, running his thumb along your slit, your hand clutching the headboard in front of you. “I’ve always wondered what you taste like,” he kissed along the inside of your thigh, a small gasp leaving your lips at the feeling.

It was strange, the way shocks of electricity ran up your spine and back down to your abdomen with just the slightest touch of his lips. And it would repeat all over each time he trailed up closer and closer, the feeling more powerful.

All of a sudden, you felt the wetness of his tongue slide between your folds, spreading his saliva around. You gripped the headboard with your other hand when your body jolted, a tingling sensation rising. He continued to do that repeatedly, his hands gripping the tops of your thighs to hold you down.

“Peter,” your forehead creased, tilting your head back when he bit at a sensitive spot.

You’ve touched that place once or twice before, but the pleasure rushing through your body was never this good. And part of you despised Peter for being the one to do so. But the other part couldn’t find shit to care about.

“Mhmm,” he hummed against you, sucking on your bud when he realized you liked it, his tongue circling it before he licked another swipe to collect your slick. “I knew you’d taste so good,” he mouthed, the vibrations causing you to grind against his face. “And I knew you’d learn to like it too,” he chuckled, your hand reaching down to grip his hair.

“Oh, God,” you moaned, your teeth biting down hard on your lip as your eyes shut closed.

Peter looked up at you, breasts held up by the nightie but the see-through material let him see how your nipples became hard, letting him know how much you were enjoying this. Smiling to himself, he felt proud, he had you just where he wanted you.

“Gonna cum, princess?” he muttered, your movements against his mouth becoming frantic as you rode him. “Just let go,” he guided you through your first orgasm, your fist tugging on his curls when you came undone, your thighs shaking under his touch.

“Peter, Peter!” you screamed, rocking your hips back and forth before you felt yourself give out. Your legs were unsteady but Peter was quick to maneuver you to your back, your chest heaving up and down. “Oh my god.”

“I know, I know,” he cooed, spreading your legs open once more. “Felt good, right?” he looked up at you, your head nodding shamefully. “That was just the tip of the iceberg,” he smirked, crawling back up to you.

“I can’t do anymore, Peter,” you whined, shaking your head against the pillow.

“But I haven’t even shown you the best part,” he frowned, gesturing between the two of you and you gulped when you saw him. He was hard and it looked painful, the way his red-tip oozed with precum, begging to be inside you already, no way was it going to fit.

“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll go slow,” he grinned, slowly aligning his tip to your entrance. “Might be a tight fit, but we’ll manage,” he smiled, kissing you.

A moan escaped your lips when you tasted yourself on his lips. It was a strange taste, but it distracted you when he entered you.

The tightness caused him to pull away, his eyes focused intensely on your connected bodies as he let out a pained groan. You were clenched around him, practically sucking him back in with your lips.

He was smooth in hiking your legs up with his arms, pressing them into your chest, giving him and you a new angle while he slid in deeper, your eyes rolling back just slightly when he brushed against a certain spot.

Moving your legs up to his arms so the backs of your knees rested on his biceps allowed your chests to be pressed together, the closeness making it all the more intimate.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, rocking his hips back slowly. “So wet for me, being such a good girl,” he rested his forehead against yours.

“Peter,” you whimpered, nails digging into his forearms when you tried to decipher between the pain and pleasure.

He rocked his hips back and forth, enabling you to divulge in the feeling of his cock sheathing you. You whimpered as he let go of your legs, his arm wrapping around underneath you to lift your hips.

“Shit,” you hissed, hands finding their way to his shoulders, nails creating scratch marks on his skin.

“Such a sailor’s mouth, princess,” he mocked in your ear, pressing kisses on your face before he made his way down, his other hand groping your breast through the lace before he slipped them out, the cold air forcing a shudder out of you.

Running your fingers through his hair, you bit your lip as he sucked on your nipple, another new feeling you found yourself experiencing that you loved.

You opened your legs wider, allowing his dick to rut into you even deeper than before. The sensation of his pelvis rubbing against your clit made you shiver, causing you to tug on his hair harder.

“Peter, please,” you gasped, his mouth moving to your other breast.

“Tell me what you want, princess,” he lifted his head, eyes dazed from the pleasure as he stared at you.

“I want you, Peter, I want you,” you cried, pushing the hair out of his face before you leaned up to kiss him.

“You have me,” he said against your lips. “You have me,” he panted, your noses knocking.

Tongues clashed against each other, your hands wandered over his body like you were afraid he’d disappear.

But, Peter was there and he was yours and you were his.

Your skin slapped against each other and your chests were pressed together. You kissed along his neck and jaw, whispering encouragements in his ear as you inhaled his wonderful scent. One hand stuck in his hair, threading your fingers through his brown curls and you were sure he was going to have terrible bedhead the moment you got up.

It wasn’t going to matter though, the only thing Peter cared about was cumming inside of you. Finally marking you as his and ensuring that his seed is planted deep.

He knew it was early for babies, but he figured you both could get a head start on practicing. He couldn’t wait for the day you were swollen with his child, your hormones gone awol as you beg for him to fuck you and fill you repeatedly.

The thought alone brought him to many orgasms way before you got engaged. It was always the lonely mornings and nights that would stir him awake in hopes that you were sleeping beside him.

And now he has it. He has you. Right beneath him as your walls squeezed around his cock, urging him deeper with each thrust. His arm tightly wrapped around you, tits bouncing and your breath hot on his skin.

You were close, he could tell. Your legs moved frantically, nails forming scratches and marks along his back and shoulders, fingers tugging on his brown locks. He loved the feeling of your skin against his, your coat of sweat glistening off one another.

Nudging you to look at him, he framed your head with his arm. You were so disoriented, eyes continuously rolling to the back of your head if it weren’t for him to tell you to look at him. It brought a smile to his face at how cock-hungry you were and it was only your first night together.

And there you were again, your back arching, face hiding into his chest as you clawed at his lower back. Your slick walls contracted around him, holding him in place when he came as well.

“Oh, fuck,” he fisted the pillow behind you, his balls pulsating against you as they spilled his seed inside you.

You glanced at him, mouth agape as you felt him finish inside of you. His head rested in the crook of your neck and you felt the way his muscles clenched underneath your fingertips. You were amazed, honestly.

Divulging in the scent of his cologne, you pressed a kiss to his shoulder and trailed your way up to his face. One of your hands still lodged in his hair.

“That was good,” you breathed heavily, chest rising and falling, your nightie bunched up around your middle.

“More than good, fantastic, princess,” he lifted his head, eyes heavy-lidded as he stared down at you. “You were so amazing,” he framed your head with his arm as he brushed pieces of hair out of your face.

“I liked it,” you hummed, running your thumb over his cheek, gazing admirably into his eyes.

He kissed you once more, your hand pulling him close before he slipped out, emptiness consuming you but your thoughts were interrupted when you had the urge to pee, Peter carrying you out of bed and to the bathroom.

After you cleaned yourself and you fixed the top of your nightie, Peter helped you into the bed, his briefs back on him.

Your mind still had trouble processing what had happened only a few minutes ago, you still shook with pleasure. Peering over at Peter, he still had that “winning a million dollars” grin plastered on his face.

He drew you into his chest, face resting on his pec while he rubbed circles on your hip. You rested your hand right in the middle of his chest and you did your best to fall asleep.

While this was still all new to you, he treated it as if you have already done this. As this level of intimacy was normal between you.

Now not only were you adopted into the mob life but you were married to it. No matter what, from now on you will always be dependent on Peter in every possible way.

And while that may seem intimidating or even scary- you couldn’t help but wipe the smile off of your face as you fell asleep.

~~~~~

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