#Therapy for Superheroes Masterlist | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dimepdf · 10 months

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★ 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝐀, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝐀, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄. + 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 ��'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. no matter how many times you try to convince yourself that Miguel is the bane of your existence, the way you react during training proves otherwise.

─── ☆ notes. i need fics of miguel being an absolute dick, like a petty bitch just for the hell of it i need more attitude yk? Like if that man isn't calling me a slut it ain't canon! | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ length. 4.3k (33 min read).

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | no spoilers | smut, enemies to lovers, maybe mutual pining, fighting and violence, semi public sex, gym sex, mentions of abuse, size difference, pain kink, strength kink, degradation kink, manhandling, power play(?), begging, rough sex, cervix kissing, choking, fangs, biting, marking, cunnilingus, eye contact, hair pulling, creampie, open ended, not an taiyo fic without a few typos.

IF YOU ASKED any of the other Spider-men what they loved so much about being Spider-Man, their answers would all be the same, ranging from "the suit" to "the enhanced abilities." It was a no-brainer that being a superhero came with a few awesome perks.

Which was why your answer was just a bit confusing, "the combat." You would always smile, despite the many eyebrows raises and looks that convinced you you had to be some type of overcover masochist, especially since you would never really go into true detail about why.

Your reasoning behind putting on the mask was similar to all the others: another traumatized kid being thrown into a whole new reality that you never would have dreamed of being possible.

Sadly, you had been raised with the loss of most of your loved ones, and your family was in shambles from the abuse you would go through from them. It was the reason why it was difficult for you to grow up and make many friends, let alone navigate your abilities on your own accord, which was why it was a whole different ball game when you first joined the spider society.

When you first met Miguel O'Hara, you thought he was an overly intimidating man with an even more scary personality. Your aesthetics and morals would clash in the first few run-ins you would have with him.

In all honesty, you first thought him to be a massive dick who surprisingly needed more therapy than you did. From his bored expression to his unnerving glare, it was clear upon the first introduction that you two just would not get along.

Which was why the universe made him the only spider person willing and with enough free time to train you. It came as a surprise to you both, who are usually butting heads. Miguel was adamant about not wanting to waste his time training some little girl who didn't even know how to throw a punch.

With much shit-talking on your part and a lot of teasing claims of him being afraid that you were going to kick your ass, training had quite literally started in full swing.

It was probably a bad move on your part to push the buttons of the guy who was teaching you how to fight. Miguel was clear with his fight-style techniques. He was nimble with his limbs and swift on his feet. It was hard for anyone to get a hit on him, especially since he wasn't the type to hold back his punches.

His teaching style was the same: your sessions included throwing you around as if you were some ragdoll and picking you up as if you weighed nothing, just to slam you into the ground with full bruising force.

There would be some very rare occasions when you would manage to get the upper hand on him. Miguel was about a foot taller than you, not to mention how pathetically compressed you looked standing next to him. You learned that the only way you could manage to get the upper hand was by using your size difference to your advantage.

All the sessions you won were hosted by you managing to tangle yourself from his claws and climb his towering figure into a headlock, praying that you had enough strength in your legs to make him tap out.

"How is she not dead yet?" Miles would mutter, looking concerned, as he stood from the sidelines of the training room, watching one of your sessions, as the blonde by his side didn't even wince at the sound of Miguel untangling you from the headlock you had him in.

His arms moved faster than you could process as he managed to loosen your hold enough to slam the air from your lungs as you fell back facing against the mat so hard that even Miles was convinced he could feel the blow in the lower spine.

"I mean, at this point, I'm kind of convinced she’s turned into his personal punching bag." Miles strains to watch Miguel not even wipe a sweat as he sprung back on his feet. He stretched out his full body, towering over you, curled flat against the mat, trying to collect your breathing as well as your broken ego.

Gwen nodded in agreement. "I don't even know how someone could hit someone so...squishy? She’s just so cute." She muttered, watching with her arms crossed.

"This punching bag needs to learn that in the real world, people aren't going to go as easy on her just because she’s cute." Miguel, despite glaring at the two bystanders, leaned down and yanked you back onto your stumbling feet.

Your fingers combed through the matted curls now drenched in sweat away from your forehead, using your water break as the perfect excuse to help cover up the reaction to the sudden compliment that came from his lips and the way he had made you feel.

"And her being my personal punching bag is completely at her fault, if you want to learn how to fight, you have to learn how to take a few punches." You couldn't help but roll your eyes and wave your hand out in annoyance at another one of Miguel O’Hara’s famous lectures.

"I’m not a punching bag, did you not see the hold I had on him early?" You huffed, almost choking on your water, trying to protest. Gwen humored your claim, the blonde reaching out and rubbing your shoulder out of support as you continued with your defense. "Any tighter, and I would have easily snapped his neck."

Of course, Miguel only smirked as you continued grasping at straws at the point of trying to prove to your friends your improvement, his eyes flitting back and forth at the exchange, expressionless at the sight of you managing to still joke around as if you weren't about to pass out from fatigue at any second.

"And was that before or after the part where I kicked your ass, little girl?" He shot out, chipping away at the final lock that held back your annoyance, you hadn't even had time to process the insult before he bumped his shoulder into you on his way out of the training room.

His rude exit enticed a round of reactions from Miles and Gwen trying their awkward best to comfort the boiling pot of anger they saw written all over your face, rolling your eyes, you pushed past the two, not without grumbling a string of insults in Miguel’s name to the washrooms.

You blessed the spider lords for somehow having the ability to shower under running water, let alone the unexplainable strange amount of amenities that the spider society dimensions had.

Like a web shooter's wonderland, you quickly shed the sweating clothes you trained in and stepped foot into the cold cubicle shower booth, letting the water run for a bit until enough steam fogged clouded stepping under the stream. Even with the hot water splashing pressure against your aching muscles, no amount of water could manage to wash away the annoying feeling in your legs.

It was enough of a jab at your pride to even find Miguel attractive in the first place, and here your body was betraying you once more, begging, throbbing desperately for his every touch in its every form, and having the nerve to grow more intense during your training.

The feeling had yet to fully disappear the next day, even with your session starting off with you fueled from yesterday's comments. You tried pushing the feeling as you were just ready to have Miguel mutter another word insult with the ass kick you were ready to give him. It was the only possible explanation for why you were so jittery about getting to training on time.

"It took you long enough." Was the first thing you heard Miguel announce throughout the empty room.

He wasn’t wearing his suit—neither of you did while training—instead, he was wearing dark gray sweatpants paired with some random dark red graphic shirt that fit him a bit too snuggly to leave room for imagination around his arms.

"Almost thought you were gonna skip out."

You were aware enough to spot this quick observation of your outfit as well. Keeping it casual and opting for better mobility, you shimmied yourself into plain Nike shorts that stopped higher up than you had expected them to on your thighs with a loose tank top that peeked out the straps of your sports bra.

Nothing about your clothes screamed attention grabbing—at least that's what you thought before you caught Miguel’s red-tinted stare on the way your shorts hugged your thighs.

He glanced away, muttering something in Spanish you couldn't quite translate the moment your fingers fidgeted with the bottom hems of the shorts, tugging them slightly more down while deciding to break the tense silence that had managed to sneak up on you. "So what are we doing today?"

"Huh, I’ve been thinking." He answered, followed by the clearing of his throat, "We try something a little different." You could never get used to the roughness of his voice or the way he spoke with so much arrogance that it reminded just about everyone that he thought he was better than just about everyone.

Even now that you stepped towards the middle of the mat, standing rigidly just a few paces away from him, you could tell from that stupid, cocky expression as he stood looking down at you that there was no possible way that he would ever see you as a real threat. "I want you to try to hit me."

Your brows creased together in confusion.

"What?" was all you asked, which seemed to be the wrong question to ask as Miguel stretched out a sigh from his mouth, his hands coming close to his to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"I said hit me." He speaks more slowly, making sure to mockingly over pronounce every symbol in every word as if you were a child. "Preferably soon and as hard as you can." A grimace finds itself twisting on your lips before you can even process your bubbling annoyance. Your body moved on autopilot because of your keen senses, jumping over the swing of his left leg with ease.

You couldn't say that swift grace stuck with your attempt at a counterattack. Bending your knee just enough to reach out and kick, you were only met with the bottom of your foot stomping flat against the floor mat and Miguel dodging your kick, standing just a few paces away. "Too predictable," he scolded in that annoyingly deep voice you hated oh so much and totally did not turn on you at all. You sprung yourself up by the heels of your feet and charged at him with full determination to land at least one punch on his stupidly chiseled, handsome face.

It had been your second mistake, giving him too much time to brace himself. Already regretting your emotionally impulsive start, resulting in the punch you swung being easily deflected by Miguel.

His hand wrapped entirely around your wrist, bending your arm almost out of your socket and kicking the back of your knee to the mat with his heel. You feel down to a kneel with a hissing pain in your arm threatening to get worse at any wrong twist.

"Lose that fucking attitude, or you’ll get sloppy." As if your body could radiate any more anger, you knew he was just trying to push your buttons, trying to throw you off your game with smack talk that was not working on you or anything.

"Again," he prompted, letting your arm go and stepping back, egging on another attack from you.

"Give me a damn minute." No matter how much you wanted to snap back at him with something snarky, you knew it would only prove his point entirely—not only that but also the fact that he was mentally hitting you in all the places that he knew counted the most to throw you off your game.

Biting back the insult you already had threatened to slip from your tongue instead of making a point by rolling your eyes as you stumbled back to your feet. Rolling your sore shoulder back as your eyes scan over his stance, trying to find the best opening for a better attack, you steady your breath and cloud your mind in thought. "You aren't going to get anywhere but dead standing around like that, you know."

So much for wanting to consider your options. Miguel took the first swing at you and was on the verge of kicking you on your ass if it weren't for your shoddy dodge.

"Didn't you just say I had to be less fucking predictable?" You snarled, lifting your foot with most of your weight pointed in the direction of his jaw. Surprisingly, the kick landed just not in the place you wanted it to; instead, Miguel’s arm blocked the blow, much to your annoyance.

"I also said—" All he was doing was using dodging moves on you, swiping your other foot from under you as he held the other one that you kicked up in his arm, resulting in you landing once again flat on your ass. "to lose that fucking attitude."

You had not gone down without a fight, twisting and kicking, trying to wrestle your limbs free by any means. Miguel had almost embarrassingly quickly ceased your squirming, his palm cuffing your arms and pressing hard against your chest as his other hand pressed tightly into your thighs, folding your legs in place under his hips.

The position was interesting, to say the least, but you still had some fight in you, wiggling against his grip with any strength you had left to break free. It was a useless battle, but the man had his grip around you tight as well as an overpowering size difference that blanketed your entire figure like one big rock.

And that's how you caught yourself in another web of misfortune. Your nerves are surging at the feeling of something—him brushing against your calf. Maybe it was all the adrenaline pumping through your veins or the fact that you were practically being manhandled so easily that did another thing to your body, or maybe it was just pure horny instability that your brain couldn't even process the lewd whine that tugged from your throat after the fact that it had happened.

Watching in pure horror as Miguel loomed on top of you, his mouth slightly agape as his chest heaved and his brows pulled together, the embarrassment from his confused, almost offended looking expression hit you fast. Here your body was betraying you once more, this time going absolutely haywire and melting like a stupid pile of putty at the fact that you were being body pressed against some mat with some guy's hard junk pressed into your leg.

You couldn't bear to even look him in the eye anymore, your head tilting to the side, pressing your cheek into the mat, and squeezing your eyes closed, not suddenly envying the spidermen with teleportation powers. "Fucking Christ, can you get off now?"

A beat of silence hovered between the small distance between you two, neither moving nor talking. It was starting to become unbearable how tightly Miguel had folded your legs against him, in the sense that you could already feel his body heat radiating. The close proximity did not help with how unbearably your heart was beating against your chest. "How do you manage after all of that to still have that shameless fucking attitude?"

You stilled at how his voice had managed to cut through your own thick cloud of betraying thoughts as well as the ringing in your eardrums. "Shameless? As if you don't have your dick pressed against me right now."

"By the sounds of it, you don't seem that bothered at all." Miguel taunted, You thought you were bound to die of embarrassment.

Yeah, this is how you went out—by dying from the sheer effect of your own extremely horny though—not some overpowered supervillain with a vendetta against you but Miguel O'Hara and his dick print.

You could already hear the new taunts that he would use against you, "Not even in your fucking dreams." being the only comeback that you could muster, your limbs tingling with slight pins and needles, threatening to go stiff under his unbound grasp.

"Oh, like you wouldn't love to," he sneered, shifting the weight from his hips flat against your thighs. "Probably thinking about me taking off these tight fucking shorts and having my way with you?" Your body reacted first to the accusation, cursing under your breath as you felt your second heartbeat flutter in between your legs.

His lingering stare hadn't helped one bit, and you watched from the sidelines as his eyes raked over your body with interest.

"I bet this was your plan the entire fucking time, huh?" He asked, leaning in as the distance dwindled until you could feel the brush of his breath against your face. "Put on some sweet naive act in front of everyone, knowing that you're getting yourself off on me throwing you around, touching yourself like some bitch in heat."

You hadn't bothered covering the whine that parted from your lips at the feeling of his erection slowly rutting against your thigh, the cocky smirk on his lips wanting you to melt away against the mat.

Miguel practically growled at the pathetic sounds that parted from your lips, tugging your legs apart to rut his hips down against your core. You shivered at the intrusion of his bulge pressed against your eagerness, the foreign feeling of him grinding against you left your thoughts in a dizzy fog.

"What? Can’t fucking speak now," he said as if he were dangling your most prized possession in front of your face, his fingers creeping into dangerous territory, making it a point for his fingertips to drag down your lower torso only to halt right above the elastic waistband of your shorts. "Go on, use your words."

"...fuck you."

The small amount of distance made the space between you two fall tensely thick, and the words spoken from your lips were different from the feelings that made your heart thud against your ribs. You weren't stupid, you knew Miguel could sense it, he could sense just about everything about your body from how close he kneeled on top of you.

Maybe that was why he had closed the distance so quickly after, letting the tight grip around your wrists give way to his hand finding a new objective, wrapping his fingers around your neck, not bothering to be gentle as he guided your lips towards his. The kiss was as rough as you had dreamed it to be. Eager for each other's kiss, you couldn't even process the noise that vibrated sharply from your throat before Miguel could pull away first, leaving you panting for more of his touch.

"First time I've ever seen you so quiet," his deep taunts were starting to grow unbearable, shifting your hips at the brush of his fangs against the jugular of your neck with every word, "who knew all you needed was some dick?" The harsh kisses he left trailing down to your collarbone made you feel like a hot, needy mess of putty. If it weren't for the tight grasp he had on your body, you were convinced that you would feel like you'd melt into some type of puddle. The growing frustration had only started to build up more as Miguel let go of your thighs, his hand trailing between your legs ruthlessly as the bud of his fingers rubbed against your clothed pussy.

As for why you shifted your hips up and let him impatiently tug and yank at the bow knotted around the waist of your shorts, breaking away from the red splotching light bruises already forming against your brown skin and wiggling you out of your shorts, Miguel thought it was quite the image, his eyes were fixated on the drooling sight of you under him, so vulnerable with your thighs hugging to your chest, spread open, revealing yourself in your pants.

All sanity was thrown out the window the moment he tugged you closer by your knees, your lower half lifted in his arms just enough for him to sit face to face with your cunt. His eyes darkened, his pupils blown as his tongue lapped over his lips, leaving you feeling restless. It was a slow and almost painful battle of trying to reach down and shove his face closer or buck your hips as his fingers sheathed and explored themselves against the fabric of your underwear.

As if Miguel could read your mind, his fingers hooked the fabric under the bend of his finger, followed by a quick tearing sound. "I’ll get you new ones," the comfort emitting a whine from your throat as you couldn't even scowl at him for ruining your underwear because you were too busy admiring the work his fingers were doing. Without warning, Miguel leans in closer, the warmth of his mouth almost sending you into a frenzy as his fingers spread open your lips, his lips sucking at your clitoral area, prompting you to let out a very lewd moan.

"Too loud," Miguel mumbled against your pussy, too busy webbed up in your own pleasure to even notice how every embarrassedly sloppy wet noise had seemed to perfectly echo throughout the empty room. You couldn't even explain the number of emotions that were flowing through you, from shame from being tongue fucked and fingered against the floor about the one man you hated so much to bashfulness from holding eye contact with him as he lay between your legs and ate your pussy like he was starving for you.

"I can't help it," you whined, shivering at the string of spit that contacted Miguel as he lifted his head in an idea. It took a second to process Miguel picking you up and turning you on your stomach, his hands guiding your hips up and stripping your torn panties down your legs to stuff them in your mouth.

Without a word, Miguel grabbed your ass with another hand, guiding your lower back into an arch as the other made small indents from his nail bearing into your cheeks as he spread them apart.

Before you could even feel embarrassed at the new position, he shoved his face between them, your moan being muffled by your makeshift cloth gag that worked a bit too well in lowering your whines as Miguel’s mouth sought his tongue out for your pussy once more.

"You're close I can smell it," you almost missed Miguel's groan over your building ecstasy, "just let it go, baby, let me take care of you. That's what you want, right?" His voice is drastically different from his usual rough, rude tone, softened to something of a coo that has managed to unknot your pleasure with his tongue. Your body tensed against his mouth for a moment as he had the nerve to suck his fingers clean. No grace period was given before he could lift you once more with a grunt, laying you flat on your back.

Slotting himself back between his legs, Miguel chuckled at the dazed look on your face. "It's alright, baby, I can take it from here." taking the balled up drool covered panties from your mouth and instead replaced them with his lips. The sensual change of pace wasn't enough to stop the shiver that rid your nerves of the feeling of his bare cock rutting against your slit, using his thumb to spread your lips apart to sink his tip inside of you with a low hiss against your mouth.

A gasp left yours as his girthy length intruded deeper inside of you, the burying stretch of his dick having your nails roughly grasping at the nape neck of his hair tugging a handful as his pace hadn't bothered to even get familiar already. Miguel’s hips weren't letting out as he fucked you almost animalistic against the floor. You were convinced he was trying to fuck you into the mat, to be one with the floor, which would perfectly explain the rough pace that left you breathless with each piston of his hips.

The graphically lewd sounds of your weak groans were nothing compared to the pornographic sound of your skin meeting his, your brain empty with nothing but greed, wanting to take everything and more of what Miguel was giving you. His fingers reach to unwrap your fingers tangled in his hair to intertwine them in his. "That's it, mama, that's it," he whispers against the shell of your ear, earning a whimpering reply from you, almost close to spilling the tears clouding your waterline.

Your mind couldn't process anything other than how good Miguel’s dick felt being shoved inside of you, his cock dragging against your tight, flustering walls with each shaky breath brushed against your ear. Your cunt seemed to react to Miguel’s lashes tickling against your neck as his eyes screwed tightly shut, muttering a string of compliments in his mother tongue.

You weren't lucky enough to be more stable, surprised that your throat hasn't gone horse with how ruined your vocal cords sounded in the pace of his pistoning hips. Only going up an octave higher as one of Miguel’s hands reaches down to pay attention to your clit, he doesn't stop even when your limbs start to tremble from your climax.

With one last hard thrust, he finally stills, your name being the only thing you could make out through his mumbling as his unfamiliar warm sensation welcomed itself inside of you.

Groaning right in your ear, he cums inside of you with his entire dead weight pressed against you, caging you against the floor. "Alright," Miguel sighs, settling on top of you once more with his arms holding himself just a few inches away from your face. "Again."

🔖 @adonis-is-dead-lmaoo @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @inumakiiz @iheartlinds @creamyarishi @marzipaanz

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#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #spiderman smut #marvel #into the spider verse

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lustspren · 3 months

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SERIES MASTERLIST

Post Stress Therapy (P.S.T)

🌡️EP. 0 | ft ITZY

🌡️EP. 1 | As You Wish ft Yuna

🌡️EP. 2 | Frost ft Lia

🌡️EP. 3 | Cheshire ft Yeji

🌡️EP. 3.5 | House on Fire ft Ryujin, Chaery, Lia, Yuna

🌡️EP. 4 | The Hydra ft Ryujin, Yuna

🌡️EP. 5 | Same Scent ft Chaeryeong, Chaeyeon

🌡️EP. 6 | 'Till We Meet Again ft ITZY

🌡️EP. 7 | Hold on Tight ft Aespa

🌡️EP. 8 | After Hours ft Giselle

🌡️EP. 9 | Superhero ft Ningning

🌡️EP. 10 | A Little Piece of Heaven ft Winter

🌡️EP. 11 | Stay The Night ft Karina.

🌡️EP. 12 | Love Language ft Ningning.

🌡️EP. 13 | Vultures ft Karina, Giselle.

STARBOY

🌟EP. 0 | Extreme Measures ft Heejin

🌟EP. 1 | The Hills ft Sunmi

🌟EP. 2 | Prisoner ft Tiffany Young

🌟EP. 3 | Earned It ft Kazuha

Diamond Eyes

💎My Number One ft Sullyoon.

💎Diamond Eyes ft Sullyoon, Isa.

💎Con te partirò ft Hanni.

#masterlist #series masterlist

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astroboots · 10 months

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EVERY YOU EVERY ME: ISSUE #4

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Miguel O'Hara saves you from falling off the Chrysler building for a second time, and he's not very happy about it.

Word count: 4,400 words.

Content: Slow burn so slow we're getting a reverse speeding ticket, Spidey-boy has a lot of emotions and really needs therapy, he also swears a lot, tiny speck of angst.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

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It's shocking how fast the ground approaches from a height of 72 stories. You always imagined it would take longer given the distance. In movies, the freefall is always captured in a hypnotizing slow motion, but real gravity is brutal and unforgiving.

This time, as you fall through the sky, you don’t see the New York concrete grow wider or nearer. All you see is the vast gap between you and the crystal blue sky rapidly pulling away from you. The buildings looming higher with every second. The blinding sun reflected in the thousands and thousands of glaring windows towering above.

You can't feel your heartbeat or the wind beating against your face. There should be panic. But at the sight of familiar inky-blue piercing through your view, an eerie calm takes over until a comforting numb spreads through your limbs.

Call it misguided naivety. No one should ever place this much trust with their life on a stranger they don't even know to come and save them.

But misguided or not, there's no fear in you this time around. You don't think about how you are plummeting down to your death. Not when you see him speeding after you. Diving head-first into the vast empty space as he closes the distance between you, hand outstretched, reaching for you.

His hand catches around your wrist in mid-air. It's a firm grip like he never means to let go. He reels you in until you're defying gravity, gliding up through the air to meet him until he can wrap his arms around you.

Everything decelerates. The reflection of the rows and rows of windows no longer flashing by. It's a gentle descent as the breeze flows pleasantly through your hair, and if you don't think too hard about how you can't control the direction of movement, you can almost believe you’re flying.

The landing is gentle. He sets you on your feet with such great care that it takes you a second to adjust to the feeling of firm concrete beneath your soles.

Once again, you find yourself standing face to face with the masked superhero who has saved your life more times than you can count on both hands.

You crane your neck to meet his gaze, head tilting upwards until your neck strains, and it strikes you that you've forgotten how tall he was. His head tips down, the dark outline of his masked eyes staring down at you, and it makes the hair on the nape of your neck prickle.

Say something.

You rack your brain, trying to remember all the questions you had meticulously written down in the notepad hidden in your desk as you planned for this very moment. But they’re missing, wiped cleanly from your mind now that he's here in front of you. Your mouth parts, trying to remember how to use your vocal cords again.

Before you find it, the blue fabric recedes until it reveals his face again. You're met with cutting eyes that glow an otherworldly crimson and the bared sharp canine teeth of a predator as he growls at you.

"What the hell were you thinking?!"

The low rumble of his words scrapes down your spine and locks you in a fight or flight response. Except you're doing neither. Fixed in place, unable to move.

One of his hands reaches up to pull at his hair in frustration, as he starts to mumble to himself. He's tugging it so hard you think he's going to yank them out by the roots.

"I can’t believe you! Me estás matando. Casi me da un ataque cardíaco–"

You blink up at him dimly, confused until you realize that he's broken into Spanish. But he's speaking too low and too fast. You can only make out about half of it.

"–No puedo más! I am dying of stress. You're impossible! I turn away for one second…”

One sentence flows directly into the next without stopping for a single breath, and you're surprised he doesn't go lightheaded from lack of oxygen with how long he goes on.

You raise your hand slightly, reminiscent of a gesture you used to pull in school when you wanted to get the teacher's attention to ask a question. But he doesn't notice. Doesn’t even throw a glance in your direction.

“... and you go Anna Karenina on me. I can't with you, I can't, I can't–"

You try to follow along, looking for an appropriate break in his rant to get a word in edgewise. But like the line of tourists lining up for the Statue of liberty, there doesn't seem to be an end in sight. As rude as it is, the only thing you can think of is clearing your throat, loudly, trying to draw attention to yourself, but that's soundly ignored as well.

"Me vas a sacar canas verdes–-"

One broad hand covers his face as if he's trying to scrub away the beginnings of a migraine, and he keeps going.

Listening to him makes you feel like a child on the receiving end of a scolding by an exasperated parent. Any lingering thread of fear or intimidation gives way to irritation at this man who is so subsumed by his tirade that he doesn't even seem to be aware of your presence, not three feet away from him.

"–Siempre haces esto, una y otra y otra vez–"

You don't know exactly how long he’s been going on for by now, but you know that it's long. You could even swear the shadow by your feet has shifted to the opposite end of the patch of concrete at your feet in the time he’s been talking.

"Well? Aren't you going to say anything?" he asks, apparently finally done. He stands there, arms crossed, with a condescending set to his jaw as he looks down on you.

And god, where to even start with this man? You have enough material about his difficult and avoidant behavior to make a powerpoint presentation out of it. You should block out the boardroom for three whole hours and hold a Q&A after.

How, if he had just spoken to you after you left him not one, not two, but several requests to meet with him, then things could have ended up a lot more civilized.

How, if he hadn't been hiding from you this whole time—gaslighting you— you wouldn't have had to spend over $200 on budget DIY spy crap (in this economy!) on an utterly wasted attempt to catch him. And, to add insult to injury, you’re sure you are never going to use any of that stuff ever again!

How, if he hadn't been talking non-stop and had the self-awareness to take a second to observe others, he'd have realized that you had plenty of things to say to him, if only he had paused long enough to let you.

But somehow in the face of his expectant expression, all that comes out of your mouth is, "I don't know what you want me to say."

His face falls. There's a split second of disappointment, raw and anguished, that flitters across his face. Then it's gone as quickly as it appeared, and he turns away from you. Whatever he was expecting from you, that was obviously not it.

When he speaks again, his voice has turned calm and quiet. He almost sounds resigned.

"Yeah. I don't know either."

There's a sluggish, awkward silence that lingers on the three feet of concrete stretched between the two of you. The echo of traffic below, the cab horns and chatter swarms the space. After everything that’s happened, it all feels very anti-climatic somehow.

"Can you take me back to my apartment and we can talk? I have coffee. Cake too," you say, trying to break the silence.

"I don't drink coffee." His tone is curt, severing the olive branch you were trying to extend with a sharp snap, and your shoulders sag in defeat and disappointment. But then his face tips back in your direction and meets your eyes. The line of his mouth twitches as if he’s war with himself.

"But I'll have some cake," he concedes.

Had you known that a superhero was coming over for a visit, you'd probably have done a better job of cleaning up and making the place presentable.

You would have put away the heap of unfolded, wrinkly laundry that's piled up on your bed, granny panties in full sight. Would have washed the dirty dishes stacked up in your sink like a dangerous game of porcelain Jenga. Or at least cleared out the sad looking take out box where your half-eaten pizza is still resting in a greased up spot on the table.

Still, you're not sure how impressed he would be even if you had. Your studio apartment is a standard size for NYC, meaning in most other places it would be classified as a closet. With his height, he has to duck to make it through the threshold of your door and can barely stand upright without banging his head against the ceiling. It’s ironic that the window entrance is probably less hazardous for him.

You get him a plate of cake and set it on the table in front of him, delicately placing the dessert fork on the side.

"Sorry, I don't have any cookies for you today, just coffee cake."

The sight of him sitting hunched over your Ingatorp IKEA dining table is slightly comical. The table looks like a miniature doll set against his broad frame, and as he picks up the small dessert fork in his large hand, that only adds to the absurdity of the situation. He looks like he’s playing at having a tea party with a child’s play tea set.

You sit down across from him, watching him intently, trying to gather the nerve to ask the questions you've been dying to ask since this all started. But you're hesitant and fumbling, stumbling on your words like an idiot, "Uhm, so I wanted to ask if you– if you knew why all of this is happening to–"

"No."

You frown at his interruption. "You didn't let me finish," you protest.

He leans back against his chair, waving away your protests dismissively into the air. "I didn't need you to. The answer is no. Next question."

You bite down on your lip to stave off the curse stuck in your throat, trying to force its way out. You hold it. Stemming the tide, as you focus on the task at hand.

"Who are you?"

His head tilts to the side at your question, as his hand draws up and gestures vaguely over the spider emblem of his costume draped over his chest. "Isn't it obvious?" he snarkily responds, "I'm Spiderman"

Great, he's a rude and sassy superhero. You narrow your eyes at him

"You're not the Spiderman I know of."

He doesn't respond to that. Just glares down at the cake as he pierces it with a sharp stab of the fork, making the porcelain underneath clank. Then he scoops a large spoonful and shovels it into his mouth.

God, who eats cake so angrily?

"Why did you save–" you start, but he holds up one finger, motioning for you to pause.

He cleaves off another piece of cake and shoves it into his mouth, chewing slowly. You watch as he beats the Guinness record of slowest chewer across the table from you, before you finally get to repeat your question.

"Why do you keep saving me?"

"I'm a superhero. I save people. It's what I do."

Bright irritation pings through you at his sarcastic attitude.

This is like playing the world's shittiest game of 20 Questions, except here the whole goal of the game is to see whose sanity cracks first.

Naively, you had thought that being able to sit down with him in person would mean you could finally start getting some answers. You hadn't been expecting the need to deploy strategic maneuvers, and you pause, taking your time before you speak.

You need to pick a question he won't be able to evade. You think back at the footage of the nanny-cam, that time he carried you to bed. The worry when you weren't where he expected you to be. The over-familiarity that seeps out of his every action with you as if he already knows you and that the last thing you heard as you fell off the ledge was his voice calling out your name.

"How did you know my name?" you finally ask him.

His back stiffens at the question, jaw grinding down until the small muscle there flexes with irritation.

"I don't."

Liar.

"You called my name when I fell," you remind him.

This time instead of answering, he slides the now empty plate at you across the table.

"Can I have another slice?"

You frown. It's an obvious ploy to buy himself some time to avoid answering your question. But you can't deny his request either.

With a sigh, you push away your chair to bring the plate to the counter. You cut up an obscenely big slice so that he won't be able to use this as an excuse a second time.

Turning back around, you find that the gluttonous self-proclaimed Spiderman is pinching the bridge of his nose. He looks a little worse for wear, a pained expression etched into those tightly knitted brows.

"Are you okay?" you ask, concerned.

"No. I–" He breaks off, his broad palm gripping the back of the chair, and you notice a slight tremor in his fingers. "Something’s wrong."

He pushes the chair back, trying to get to his feet, but to your surprise, he stumbles and sways.

He seems just as surprised as you are at his newfound lack of coordination.

"What the–" He looks down on his feet with concentrated effort. Then he takes another step. It's wobblier than the one before, his knee giving way, and his arm shoots out to grip at the edge of your table for balance.

Alarm bells start to go off in your head. You don't understand what's happening, but he's definitely right, something is wrong. A man that can gracefully scale down the Chrysler building from 72 floors down shouldn't be struggling this much just to take two steps back in your living room.

"Maybe you should sit back down," you suggest, looking up at him. There’s a slight sheen of perspiration that's settled on his forehead. The beginnings of a rosy flush tinting his cheeks. "Do you have any food allergies?"

"No. I don't. No. Super metabolism kind of cuts down on that sort of–” he’s stumbling over his words, each syllable slurred on his tongue, as he shakes his head at you. “No, no allergies. No food sensitivities of any kind except...."

He glares around wildly and his eyes land on the remaining slice of cake perched on your kitchen counter.

"Did you put fucking coffee in that cake?!?!"

“"Yes?” You whip around, and look at the cake on your counter, not understanding the relevance of his question. “I mean... It's a coffee cake? I told you that!"

You push aside your growing panic as you try to remember if the EpiPen stored away in your kitchen cupboard is past its expiration.

"You didn't tell me there was coffee in it!"

Is he serious?

"I said ‘coffee cake’! What else would be in there? It's in the name," you snap.

And god, you can't believe this is what you're arguing with him about at this moment.

"Okay, yeah," he concedes testily, "but coffee cake is its own thing too! Isn’t coffee cake just… cake... that you, like... serve with coffee? It doesn't have coffee in it! Why the fuck does it have coffee in it?"

Does the man even hear himself? You're trying to figure out if you need to call an ambulance, and he is arguing with you on the technicalities of what constitutes coffee cake.

"Okay, wait, but are you dying?" you ask, trying to stay calm despite the pandemonium of panic ringing in your head.

"No! I'm just intoxitac– intocita– intoshica– I'm just fucking drunk okay!?" he spits out.

Your brain stalls at his statement. Intoxicated!? When did he have time to drink? He seemed fine just a few minutes ago, but now he's slurring and about to topple over.

"You're drunk? How–"

"Spiders get drunk on coffee," he interrupts, and the flush on his cheek deepens to a deep alarming red. If you didn't know better, you'd almost think he was blushing.

"Okay, let's sit you down." You rush over, rounding your dining table as you reach for him.

At the sight of your extended hands, his eyes widen in alarm, He steps back from you, eyeing you like you're something dangerous.

"No. No, I'm–" he takes another step backwards, flinging himself away from your touch, but loses his footing in the process. He tilts over, hand grappling for the edge of the table as he goes, but instead of the edge he manages to take the cake plate with him on the way down.

There's a clank of shattered porcelain, followed by the loud thud of his body hitting the ground.

With the large size of him in your tiny studio apartment and the breaking of porcelain left and right, this feels like the idiom of a bull running wild in a China shop, come to life.

You reach out your hand to help him get up, but he doesn't acknowledge it, anchoring his elbow to the floor for leverage, only to wobble and fall flat against his back again with an angry curse.

Why is he so goddamned stubborn?

You glance down at him, this gigantic man that is lying sprawled out on the floor with the gravitas of a turtle trapped on its back. He's so huge that he's eating up half of the floor space of your entire home. If he doesn’t get up, you won't be able to take two steps without accidentally stepping on him.

Shaking your head in disbelief at the ridiculousness of the situation, you hunch down on your knees beside him.

There's hesitation etched in those otherworldly crimson eyes as you come near. But as much as he's scowling at you, baring his fangs and trying to look scary, there isn't much he can do from the floor.

"Let me help you," you insist, "let's get you in bed until it wears off. I can't have you passed out on my floor like this."

He takes your outstretched hand, and you pull backwards, trying to bring him up with you. Between the two of you, you manage to get him on his feet again. Barely.

Whoa.

You crane your head up, up, up til you meet his eyes. Yup, the man is still huge. Must be damn near 7 feet tall and heavy, and you quickly realize there's not much you can do but try to steer so that he falls in the direction of your bed.

Somehow you manage to shepherd him in the right direction, until his knees hit the edges of your bed. He lands with a dramatic thud and you hear your bed frame groan in protest.

“Do you need anything?” you ask, but he doesn’t answer you. His broad arm drapes over his eyes, blocking you out.

You sigh, turning on your heels to clean up the mess of coffee cake and broken plates off your floor.

You barely manage to finish sweeping up the floor before you hear soft snoring filling your home.

Knock-off Spiderman is sound asleep, his large shape curled up on your mattress, entirely still.

You settle yourself back at the dining table, eating the leftover coffee cake as you pull up a book on your phone and wait for him to wake.

This was not how you had imagined your first extended interaction would turn out.

Honestly, you can't make sense of any of your interactions with him. How he's constantly avoiding you, yet can't seem to stay away and routinely checks in on you.

How he acts overly familiar in one instance and excessively rude and put off by you the next.

Maybe you remind him of someone else... Maybe even an ex? It feels weird to speculate, but it would explain a lot of things. His belligerent attitude towards you. The way he looks at you with eyes full of resentment, even as he's saving you from certain death. That look in his eyes like he knows you, even though you've never met him.

It doesn't explain how he knows your name though.

From the bed, you can hear him stir, shifting against the mattress with a quiet groan muffled into your pillow. He's softly murmuring something that you can't quite make out, and then he turns in his sleep again, making a pained noise that makes worry squeeze tight in your chest.

Maybe letting him sleep it off wasn't the brightest idea you've had. You probably should've called for the ambulance as soon as he showed physical signs of distress.

You're not a biologist. You don't know how a hybrid spider-human’s physiology works.

What if he's not just drunk? Whoever heard of coffee making someone drunk! And how could it affect him so quickly? There was barely a minute between him stuffing his face and falling all over the place. Some quick, panicked googling confirms that coffee makes spiders a kind of drunk, but it doesn’t say if it’s outright toxic to them.

Oh fuck, what if he's dying!? Oh god, what if a superhero dies in your bed? How will you explain this to your landlord? Or the police! “I fed him coffee cake, and it killed him, officer.” Right, that’s going to go over like a lead balloon! It’ll probably look like you poisoned him. TMZ will be swarming the place. You'll be classified as a supervillain.

Setting down the book, you make your way over to sit on the edge of your bed. You lean over his sleeping form and peer down at him, checking for any signs of physical distress.

That red flush from earlier is still riding high on his cheeks, looking like the beginnings of a fever. You reach out your hand to rest it on his forehead to check his temperature.

Warm.

He stirs at the touch, turning his face and practically nuzzles into your palm. It’s almost endearing as he buries his sharp nose into your wrist.

You hold your breath, worried that exhaling would be loud enough to wake him as you gaze down on him. Up close like this, when he's not being rude, and stubborn and defensive, he's... quite attractive.

He has the kind of sculpted face that Hollywood dreams are made of, angular jaw and a prominent nose that makes him look regal. Not to mention those chiselled cheeks of his are a fucking marvel to look at. But more than that, curled up asleep in your bed, there’s a gentle softness to his features that hadn’t been noticeable when he was awake.

Now that he’s not frowning down at you and the line of his mouth isn’t pulled into an angry snarl, you can see that his lips are full and luscious, delicate even. His heavy brows look less intimidating now that his face has relaxed from its perpetual scowl.

He looks... soft, somehow.

There's a spark of something heated in your veins that has you feeling flushed and warm. You have to turn your eyes, shaking your head and tutting at yourself, because you’re creeping on the drunk guy passed out on your bed, and it’s not a good look on you.

The commotion makes him stir, his eyes blink softly open. He looks up at you, with half-lidded eyes, and it's different from how he's looked at you up until now. His gaze is still so…. soft.

"Nena," he says quietly.

Your cheeks warm at the warmth in his voice , and you gently pull your hand away from his forehead.

"Sorry, I was just checking if you were okay," you explain awkwardly as you start to back away from him, sliding your knee along the mattress to climb off the bed.

At your movement, he darts upright into a seated position and pulls you to him, clinging onto every inch of you as he buries his face to your side.

“Don't go,” he murmurs into your neck. His voice is trembling, and you can feel the panic radiating from him as the grip he has on you tightens until it’s bruising.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he says, keeps repeating it. You don’t know what he’s apologizing for but the guilt and sadness in his voice tugs at something deep inside your chest.

Nena, he said, and you realize that even though you're the one he's holding in this moment, he's not talking to you. He thinks you're someone else.

"Please don't leave me again. I-I can't–" he chokes out the words into the hollow of your throat where he's pressed his face tight into your skin. You can't help but notice the damp wetness that gathers there. "I'm trying, but I can't– I don't know how to do this without you."

The words are raw in his throat, and despite your confusion, your chest squeezes tight with a sympathetic ache at the man's obvious heartbreak.

You don't know what's going on here or who he thinks you are. The only thing you know is that you want to make him feel better. To make his hurt a little less painful. To make the consuming guilt you can hear in his voice a little bit smaller.

"It's okay," you say.

What the it refers to, you have no idea. But the least you can do is to give the man who has saved your life over and over, a tiny crumb of comfort.

You return his embrace, circling an arm around his shoulder, matching the tightness with which he’s holding you. Your other hand slides into his hair and he shivers at the touch, face burying deeper into your neck.

"I'll protect you,” he murmurs into your skin, “I can do better this time. Keep you safe. I promise.”

"It's okay. It’s okay. I’m already safe," you reassure him, giving him the only truth you know for sure in this moment, "You saved me."

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: as always to my collaborator on this series, who helps me brainstorm, write, edit and beta-read and everything in between and over with this series. This exists because of her, and I am so grateful to her. The hours I spend shouting into her DMs and bother her on the daily since this series infected my mind. You guys don't know what I put poor @thirstworldproblemss through.

Also to @guruan who was kind enough to read through this and steer me in the right way with the spanish, but also for giving me porn that has kept my brain buzzing for days!!!

Please follow both of these insanely lovely, kind and talented people.

Author's note: the Spanish in this chapter has been left untranslated on purpose, so that it's left ambiguous whether reader speak/understand Spanish. The idea is that if you as a reader understand it, then so does the reader, and vice versa 🥰

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfic #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #oscar isaac #spider man: across the spider verse #marvel #miguel ohara x reader #spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you

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feelmyskinonyourskin · 7 months

Text

Cure [Sex Pollen Trope]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x AFAB Reader x Frank Castle

Trope de Sept Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Sex Pollen Situation 1. A fictional substance that makes the characters experience unbearable pain if they don't fuck. "You, Bucky, and Frank are exposed to a strange chemical in an abandoned Hydra warehouse. And there's only one way to make the effects wear off faster."

Warnings: SMUT/18+ (don’t interact if your age is not in your bio). No use of Y/N. AFAB Reader. Implied sexual assault of and by Bucky during his time as the Winter Soldier. Implied past/current casual sexual relationships between the Reader/Bucky and Reader/Frank. All the dubious consent circumstances that come with sex pollen. Unprotected P in V, threesome, breeding kink, creampies, multiple orgasms, pet names (baby, doll, sweetheart, honey).

WC: 3,200

A/N: Trope de Sept order got a little shuffle. Don't worry, everything is still coming, I just wanted to space out characters, fic types, etc. now that I have a better idea of what the rest of the fics will be.

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on this site to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platform I currently post anything on is Tumblr. Thanks!*

How you and Bucky managed to get separated from the rest of the team, you weren’t sure.

The Hydra base was recently abandoned. Tipped off that the Avengers were on their way, they scrambled to make their escape, leaving miscellaneous papers, weapons, and other evidence of guilt behind.

You certainly weren’t going to take anyone in on this, but at least you’d have some clues that could maybe point to where they’d be next.

You and Bucky made your way into some kind of lab, the rest of the team raiding other areas of the base. Coms were down, but you weren’t too concerned as there seemed to be no threat that required back up. Hydra left this place abandoned and disheveled due to their hastened exit.

“Shit. There’s no one here.” Bucky lamented, sending a set of empty beakers crashing to the floor in frustration

“Not no one, but sure as shit ain’t Hydra.” a gravelly voice cut through the darkness of the lab

You and Bucky turned to the source; a tall figure attached to dusty combat boots, vest dripping with white paint smears and long-ago dried blood splatters. He wore a scowl on his tired face, a bruise covering the left side of his jaw, and had a rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Castle.” Bucky nodded toward him

“Barnes. Sweetheart.” he nodded back to the two of you

“I’m sorry– sweetheart? How do you two…” Bucky asked, pointing between you and Frank.

“Remember when you said I should get a hobby? You know when weeks go by and there are no missions?” you said

“I meant like, take up pickleball or crocheting; not get sexually involved with vigilantes.”

“Hey, hey!” Frank rebutted

“Woah!” you also interrupted Bucky’s implication “Who said anything about me sleeping with him? No, I started taking on some– let’s just call them personal cases outside of work. You know, using my powers to be the everyman's hero. I run into Frank on rooftops sometimes.”

“So your hobby is being a superhero, when you’re not at work being a superhero?”

“I mean sometimes we also sleep with each other.” Frank added

Frank was lucky your powers didn’t involve laser vision, or else he’d be burnt to a crisp by the way you glared at him.

“Really, doll? Castle?”

“You know what Bucky, I don’t need judgment from someone who's dating pool includes all four of the Golden Girls. Wait, how do you two know each other?” you motioned between him and Frank

“A mutual friend of ours, Curtis Hoyle, runs a veterans therapy group once a week. It usually also turns into a poker game at my place afterwards.”

“Wilson joins sometimes too.” Frank added

“Didn’t think this was your scene, Castle,” Bucky said, bringing the subject back to the mission “Thought you worked alone. You’re not thinking of joining up are you?”

Frank scoffed. “Nah. Following a lead. Led me here.”

“To a world wide terrorist orginization’s base?”

“You’d be surprised how many of the street level scumbags I chase down are involved in shit like this.”

“So you came here to go all Punisher on them?”

Frank raised an eyebrow and nodded.

“Sure, the Avengers have been playing whack-a-mole with them for years, but the vigilante with a rage problem and a bunch of guns is gonna do it.” you said with a roll of your eyes.

“Fairness to me, didn’t know just what this place was til I got here.”

Bucky let out a deep exhale. He glanced between you and Frank, before returning his focus to the abandoned lab around you.

“Well you’re here now, might as well make yourself useful.”

The three of you looked high and low through the lab and turned up nothing of real value that could even be a glimmer of a lead on what Hydra was planning next or where they had scurried off to.

Bucky used his vibranium arm to bust open the door of a locked walk-in freezer, the last place it seemed you hadn’t searched.

Various test tubes and bags of medical supplies sat on the shelves, some full of odd looking substances, others spilled over and shattered from Hydra’s escape efforts.

Frank walked up to a shelf containing vials of cherry-colored liquid, picking one up in his large hand and examining it curiously.

“Don't touch that!” Bucky exclaimed, lunging forward just as Frank turned his head

Their bodies collided, sending the glass canister spinning into the air and crashing down to the ground. The red substance splashed all over the concrete floor and tiny fragments of glass flew in every direction.

“Castle, please tell me you didn’t just do that.”

“The hell you mean, me? You’re the one who pushed me!” Frank argued back

Bucky’s panic stricken gaze met yours and you had never seen fear quite like this in his eyes.

“Don't breathe.” he commanded

“What do you mean don’t breathe?” you asked, shaking off some of the liquid that splattered on your boot

“Oh god, no no no. It’s too late. We’ve all already been exposed.” Bucky lamented, sinking to the floor with his head in his hands.

“Bucky, what is that stuff? What is going on?”

“It’s a serum.”

“Like a super soldier serum?”

“Yes. But also no. This one’s effects are temporary. And highly potent. And very airborne.”

“Airborne. Like we all just breathed it in?”

“Yep.” he confirmed

“So what does it do? What’s gonna happen to us?” you asked, panic rising in your chest

“When I was theirs,” he motioned to the room around you, implying his time as Hydra’s prisoner “They realized all their sick experiments finally worked on me and they wanted more super soldiers, to replicate what they’d created in my bloodstream. The problem was, this was right around the time Dr. Zola got captured and arrested by the team that would become Shield.”

You glanced up and down the shelves once more, hoping something in here could be used for first aid in treating whatever the hell was about to happen to the three of you.

“So without their best scientist, no matter how many liters of my blood they took and tried to recreate the serum with, they couldn’t. In a last ditch attempt, they thought maybe it could be transferred genetically, They thought maybe they could use me to breed more supersoldiers.”

Your attention snapped back to Bucky.

“Breed? Wait, so they made you…? Oh my god, with who?!” you asked in horror as Bucky revealed yet another disturbing detail of his past

“Usually volunteers for Hydra’s cause. Sometimes other prisoners; women they also had been doing experiments on.”

“That’s disgusting.” you commented

“Believe me, I’m aware.”

“But what does that have to do with that stuff?” Frank motioned to the mess still splattered on the floor

“Zola’s prodigy, a real peach of a human named Dr. Whitehall, wanted to ensure the maximum possibility my DNA would take and the women participants would be as fertile as possible. I mean, after all this shit they did to me before, they thought maybe my swimmers would be pretty fried and they could create something to remedy that. So that stuff is a concoction he created in the 70s, basically it enhances all sexual urges to their most primal instinct, so those exposed are inclined to reproduce.”

“So it’s horny juice?” Frank asked

“Eloquent as always Castle, but yes. I’d say we have about ten more minutes before it kicks in. Once it does, it’s really painful until it’s out of your system or until you act on what it wants you to.” he turned to you “Okay here’s what’s gonna happen– Doll, you’re gonna go outside and lock Frank and me in this freezer so you’ll be safe from us.”

“Safe from you? What do you mean?”

“This stuff, it kinda alters your self control for a while. Like I said, it makes you run more on instinct, especially when the painful side effects hit. Once it starts kicking in, we’ll do anything to get rid of the pain. Frank and I won’t be able to resist you and you won’t be up for putting up much of a fight either. Get somewhere where our coms will work again and radio to the team, have them get you to Banner’s lab immediately. He might be able to concoct something to ease your symptoms for a few days.”

“A few days?!”

“Well it fades faster if you… ya know. But if you don’t, it could take a while to move through your system.”

“What about the two of you?”

“We’ll just have to… take care of ourselves here.” he said, making lewd gesture with his hand “Won’t be as efficient as the real thing, but it’ll help.”

“I’m not gonna leave the two of you to just jack off and suffer.”

“Sweetheart, we’ll be fine. Just worry about you.” Frank chimed in, agreeing with Bucky

“If the solution is to… you know fuck it out. I mean shit, it’s nothing I haven’t already done with either of you.”

“Excuse me?” Frank inquired, now the one whipping his head to look between the two of you

“Remember in group a couple months ago when I said I got casually involved with a coworker, but broke it off cause it was getting in the way of our work? Well...” Bucky gestured towards you

“Unbelievable.” Frank grumbled with a shake of his head

You sat on the floor across from Bucky, tac suit suddenly feeling a bit too tight and itchy against your skin.

“This freezer we’re in… it’s still on right?” you asked

“Yeah.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m gonna combust at any minute?”

“It’s the serum. Shit, it’s already taking effect.” Bucky rushed over and crouched down beside you “Doll, you sure you don’t want to get out of here?”

“No. I want to stay. I want to help both of you and I don’t want to go through this alone either.” you said, unzipping your jacket and tossing it across the room without a thought, “Jesus it feels like my blood is on fire.”

You fanned yourself with your hands to no avail. This must have been how your mother felt during your teenage years when she’d lament about hot flashes.

Suddenly, you understood what Bucky meant by pain all over your body. It started small, almost like a needle prick, near your abdomen, but rapidly spread like ink on wet parchment.

Evidence that they were both starting to feel it too was showing; the way Frank’s brows were scrunched and how he was keeled over, hands on his knees with white knuckles gripping at his jeans. Bucky’s supersoldier powers combined with his previous exposures to this substance, he seemed reasonably calm compared to the two of you. His blue eyes were glazed over in a vacant stare as he sat on the ground across from you. Sweat droplets were beginning to form on his unusually pale skin.

“P–please” you begged to both of them, pain suddenly unbearable as you pushed your pelvis off the floor, trying to find relief with friction against nothing.

You reached out to Bucky, but he shook his head no.

“Take care of Frank first.” he lulled his head to look at you “I’m more resistant to it’s effects. I’ll be fine for a while.”

“How many times do we have to… you know, to get it out of our systems?” you asked, still writhing your body against the air.

“As many times as it takes.” Bucky said

“Frankie” you reached a hand forward, beckoning him towards you.

He stumbled as he crossed the room, still slouched over slightly as he walked.

Frank’s cock was obviously strained against his jeans as he crouched down in front of you, deep brown eyes meeting your gaze.

“Sweetheart, you sure?” he asked once more, resistance to the serum fading quickly as he ran the back of two fingers down your arm, stroking you in reassurance.

As soon as his hand brushed your skin, icy relief washed over you, sending goosebumps along your flesh. You had the irresistible urge to press more of his skin against yours, to be as close to him as possible to quell the heat still bubbling beneath the surface.

All you could do was nod in response as you lunged forward, rubbing your hand along the bulge in his pants. Frank whined, a sound you’d never heard him make in the times you’d fallen into bed together, before crashing his lips against yours.

His kisses were fiery, full of tongue and teeth, like he just couldn’t drink enough of you in. Usually so patient and tender in bed, his large hands were now clawing at you, desperately trying to rid you of your clothes as quickly as he could.

He tugged off your boots in one motion, allowing you to shimmy your pants down your body. Both of your shirts were quickly discarded as well. Fumbling to unbutton his jeans and push them down, Frank let out a relieved sigh as he finally freed his aching cock. The cool air from the freezer hit your sopping cunt, refreshing as another wave of heat rolled through your body as the serum was now fully in control.

You glanced over to Bucky as Frank laid you down on the hard concrete floor. His eyes were squeezed shut in a mixture of pain and pleasure, flesh hand down his pants stroking himself to quell the growing anguish as he listened to you and Frank.

“Goddamnit doll, I can smell you.” His breathing was labored as he spoke.

Frank reached down, running a trembling finger through your folds.

“Shit Barnes, of course you can, she’s soaked.”

“P– please Frank” You begged again as Frank touched you where you needed him most, the action unknowingly teasing you into more pain.

“Shhh shh shh sweetheart. I know. It’s hurting me too. I’ll take care of you.” Frank reassured, sliding two fingers into you effortlessly

A strained sob slipped from you as he pumped in and out of you, relieved at the sensation but still in so much agony from not getting what you really needed.

“I think you’re ready.” he commented, barely restraining himself from just taking you roughly

You reached for his shoulders, guiding him fully on top of you. As he lowered himself he slid inside you in one motion, sinking all the way in easily. The serum didn’t allow him any pause, hips immediately snapping in and out with rough thrusts, primal need taking full control. His ample length repeatedly hit that perfect spingey spot inside you, causing you to cry out.

God the sounds in the room were downright sinful. Frank, who had been incredibly verbal during your previous trists, now reduced to only groans and grunts being swallowed by your sloppily placed kisses. Bucky’s lewd moans echoed off the walls and combined with the sound of skin slapping and your mewling. The vulgar symphony only spurred you on. Your peak hit you surprisingly quickly, though you attributed that to the foreign chemical invading your system.

It was like no other orgasm you’d ever had, like those viral videos of a firework finale all accidentally exploding at once. It felt endless, like you’d just be there cumming on the floor for the rest of your life.

“Shit honey, keep squeezing me just like that.” Frank finally found his words, climbing his own summit to relief. His large hand gripped at your jaw, steadying you beneath him as his movements became more erratic, an improvised drum solo of a brutal pace.

His dark eyes met yours, pupils blown out as he watched you come apart beneath him once more. Another overwhelming orgasm washed over you, more intense than the last.

That was enough to drag Frank over the edge with you. He pulsed deep inside you, filling you to the brim so much that you could feel it running down your legs before he even pulled back.

“Goddamnit.” he groaned into your shoulder

Sprawled out on the floor, you were an absolute mess of your own slick and sweat and Frank’s cum, but you didn’t care. You still direly needed more relief and knew Bucky must’ve been in total agony by this point; listening and watching you and Frank go at it.

“How you doing sweetheart?” Frank asked as he rolled off you, now a little more clarity that he’d gotten one orgasm out. You could still see the strained muscles in his neck, his skin still a shade of red as his lust was not yet fully satiated.

“Better. Still hurts a little but much more bearable. Bucky, you ready to take over?”

He was slumped against the wall, eyes still squeezed shut. His jacket and shirt were gone and his pants were undone. But he’d given up on touching himself, knowing it wouldn’t soothe his suffering in the way he needed. You crawled across the floor toward him.

“Hey Buck? Eyes on me baby.”

His eyes snapped open and looked at you, full of desperation and pity.

“Let me help, yeah?” you spoke sweetly

He nodded, watching limply as you fumbled with his fly and exposed his throbbing length.

A switch seemed to flip inside him as you straddled him and sank down, coming alive with an animalistic fervor as you rocked your hips slowly. He let out a hearty exhale feeling your velvety walls all the way down his cock, finally alleviating the anguish he’d been trying so hard to conceal.

Every sensation in your body was amplified, every touch of Bucky’s skin against yours was exquisite, every caress of his metal arm up and down your back shot like lightning striking straight to your core. You could feel every ridge of his cock, every thrust, every exhale. Overwhelmed by it all, you collapsed against his shoulder, letting him take the reins as he began to pitch himself up into you. How different he was too in this circumstance than the times previously you’d had him. Long languid strokes to ensure you’d feel it all long forgotten in favor of dragging you down by the hips over and over to meet his pace, every slam punctuated by lust and fury. Muttering ‘oh god’ and ‘yes baby please’ into your ear.

A soft caress brushed along the back of your neck, Frank kneeling behind you placing tender, open-mouthed kisses across your shoulder blades as you and Bucky fucked it out. The urge must’ve been building in him again because his hands were all over you and soon enough you weren’t sure whose grasp was where, only vaguely aware because Bucky’s vibranium touch was cool and calm amongst the heightened temperature of your sweaty skin.

Your orgasm with Bucky blossomed, rising from deep within your core and spreading like wings in the breeze. You cried into his shoulder as he did not relent in his pace, pulling your pelvises flush as he came inside you with a carnal moan.

But you still weren’t satiated and you could tell neither were they. Fuck, this was gonna be a long night.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #frank castle x reader #frank castle #jon bernthal #trope de sept #sex pollen #bucky x you #frank castle x you #imagine #bucky barnes x you x frank castle

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loving-barnes · 7 months

Text

Never leave me again - Bucky Barnes

A/N: It's been months and here we are - I have written another one-shot with Bucky. If you are interested, please read. Warning, I have not edited it much, so sorry for mistakes.

Pairing: fatws!Bucky Barnes x enhanced!female!reader

Warning: mostly angst, some fluff at the end

Words: 2200+

FULL MASTERLIST

Never leave me again - Bucky Barnes

The people stood on their feet, clapping and cheering for the new Captain America. This was the night everyone was waiting for - the introduction of John Walker to the nation. In the middle of the football field, soldiers were holding the American flag; the cheerleaders were dancing to the music and chanting Captain America’s name.

And then there he was, running to the podium where the TV reporter was waiting for him. The nation was waiting for this interview. They wanted to know the new Captain better. What better opportunity there was than this? All cameras were pointing at him as he greeted everyone. If only he knew how many people he pissed since morning.

It seemed he enjoyed the attention. He had a bright smile on his face as he sat down on the chair next to the reporter. He put the shield next to him and put down the mask for the admirers to see his face and blond hair.

John Walker named Captain America - that was the title in the news. They did a parade for him, with fireworks and music. People were losing their minds. Everyone wanted to meet him; everyone wanted to touch him and take a photo with that guy.

Once the reporter started to talk, the crowd went silent and people listened to her. She presented him as a humble guy. She told them about his history and achievements. She tried to point out to the nation that he was as good as Steve Rogers. But then, he opened his mouth and started to talk about Steve as if he was his brother.

There was a moment when he stopped talking, thinking about his next words. That’s when a clapping sound echoed around the football field and everyone focused their attention on the person who decided to interrupt the interview. And it was a big surprise.

Avengers, as everyone knew, no longer exist. Some of them died, and others decided to go their own path. The Falcon became a well-known superhero who used his ability and connections for good. The Winter Soldier was pardoned and undergoing therapy.

When Y/N Y/L/N appeared on the field it got people whispering her name. The reporter had her mouth wide open, not believing who was walking to them.

She had her long leather coat on, with a custom-made catsuit underneath it. It seemed she just arrived from somewhere. “How dare you,” she said loudly so everyone could hear her. “How dare you sit there and say out loud that Steve Rogers was like a brother to you,” she tilted her head. It was obvious she was angry. No, she was furious.

Everyone knew Y/N Y/L/N. She was an Avenger who fought against Thanos. She was one of the people who saved the universe. But then she disappeared and no one knew anything about her, until now.

“Miss Y/L/N,” the reporter said her last name, ready to calm the situation down.

“I don’t understand why are you celebrating this imposter?” she pointed at the man, who had already taken the shield into his hands.

“Miss Y/L/N,” the reporter stopped her. “As far as we know, John Walker did many tests and he passed them with high scores. This isn’t just-”

“Woman… just shut it,” she said strictly, not letting her finish. “This is something bigger than you all think. Steve Rogers represented something that this man will never have. You think you can just replace him by giving the shield to someone else?” People started to whisper and point fingers at her. “This never should have happened. And if Sam Wilson decided to give the shield to the museum, why the fuck would you change the deal you made with him and do this?”

“Y/N, look, I get it,” said John.

“No, you don’t, Walker. And I suggest you don’t cross paths with me.”

When no one had anything to say to her, she slowly walked away from them. This was all she wanted - to speak her mind and show everyone, primarily the government, how upsetting this was. When she was far enough, she used her power to lift herself into the air and flew away from the football field.

And Bucky saw it all on TV. At first, he was pissed at John Walker and the event they made for him. But the more that man talked, the more he hated him and wanted to take his shield from him.

When Y/N appeared there, he was immediately on his feet, staring at the screen in disbelief. He had been trying to find her for the last few months, but she practically disappeared. And now, she decided to come to light like this. At least she had the same opinion about Walker.

He sighed. Bucky knew he fucked up big time. When the war ended and they defeated Thanos, he left without an explanation. Steve decided to travel back in time and be with the woman he loved. He grew old with her. But Bucky walked out on the woman that was his whole world. All he knew was he needed time. And she gave him the time and waited for him until she didn’t.

She wanted to be with him throughout the process of clearing his name. It was he who didn’t want that. And now, he regretted it all. How he wanted to do anything to turn things around, find her and apologise.

“Fuck,” he whispered and rubbed his face with his normal hand. Then he realised there was one person who would be able to give him information about her. At least he could speak with Sam about the shield.

. . .

Things were not going as planned, but at least they found Sharon in Madripoor who saved their asses and brought them to the apartment she owned. To receive information that they desperately needed, they had to stay and enjoy the party she hosted. This was her new life that she wouldn’t be able to do any illegal business in the US. Selling original artwork for big money brought her a new life she never thought she’d have. Sharon already built a name for herself and became a wealthy woman.

“The party is about to start. Try to blend in, enjoy yourselves and wait until I find more information for you,” said Sharon. “Also, try not to ruin the party. I need this one to go smoothly.”

All three men followed her down to the party. The music was loud and bouncy. When they arrived, they were surprised by the amount of people that attended the event. The first stop was at the bar where they took a drink. Zemo was the first one who went to the floor and enjoyed himself with some dancing ladies.

“Look at him,” Sam commented. “Lose the cord around his neck and there he goes, enjoys life and shit.”

Bucky was silently standing next to him, scanning the surroundings. As if he was trying to find something unusual in the crowd of people. He kept thinking about Sharon - how the hell did she manage to become this wealthy here? It raised some questions that he didn’t know the answer - or maybe he didn’t want to know the answer.

“You should go dancing,” Sam nudged his shoulder. “Or at least mingle with the crowd. You might find different thoughts or a lady to dance with.”

How could people dance to this music? They kept swaying their hips and making some weird moves that Bucky couldn’t understand. Was this considered normal dancing?

He was about to bark something at Sam when his eyes noticed her lurking between the people, staring at him. He lost his breath for a moment. Was he dreaming or was it really her? His legs went on his own, trying to get to her as fast as possible. His eyes never left her figure. She kept standing in the crowd with arms akimbo, staring at him. Before he knew it, she had a drink in her hand, drinking it in one go.

“Y/N,” he said her name when he stopped in front of her. “I-” he didn’t know what to say.

“You know that your little fight in a bar in Madripoor is all over the internet?” she raised a brow, not happy about this information. She took out her phone and showed him the video with the title “Winter Soldier is Back in Madripoor”. “What the fuck, James?”

He cleared his throat. “I had to,” he said. “We needed to get to someone who gave us valuable information.”

“You had to?” she rolled her eyes. “When did you start to listen to Zemo? By the way, I will kick your ass for getting him out of prison. Have you lost your mind? You’ve been pardoned. You have the chance to live a new life and this is what you do?”

He gritted his teeth and without thinking grabbed her by the wrist, taking her somewhere, where they could talk privately. For a second he thought she would use her magic and stop him, but she didn’t.

“I was looking for you,” he said once they were hidden from the dancers.

“And I was waiting for you,” she hissed at him. “I waited for you, and waited, but you never came. You had decided that you want nothing to do with me.”

“That’s not true,” he shook his head. “I know I fucked up big time, I did. But I never stopped loving you,” he admitted. He could see how she swallowed nothing. “I loved you back then, I love you now.”

She took a deep breath. It was obvious those words did something to her, but she decided to keep her stern face and not give him any more reaction. “I don’t believe you,” she said. “If you did, you would never leave. If you did, you would do anything to get me back.”

Bucky knew she was right. He didn’t do enough and that was his fault. “What are you doing here, Y/N?” he had to ask.

“It’s none of your business,” she said. “The fact that we are talking together, is nothing but a coincidence.”

He laughed. “Is it? Because, if it was, you wouldn’t be staring at me in the middle of the crowd of people and waiting for me to get to you. Also,” he took a step closer. “You wouldn’t let me take you to the side so we could talk.”

She didn’t say a word and let him approach her even more. “What’s going on? Why are you really here?” He could see right through her. Something told him, that she came here to see him. Maybe she was worried? His hands gently brushed her cheeks. It’s been months since he last touched her like this. “I can hear your heartbeat. I feel what my presence does to you. I know you, Y/N.”

She closed her eyes, leaning to his touch. “I’m dealing with Wanda,” she admitted. “I lost contact with her and she disappeared. I know someone who might have some information about her.”

Bucky couldn’t wait any longer and his lips connected with hers in a deep kiss. He expected her to pull away, but she didn’t. “I’m sorry,” he whispered once he broke the kiss. “I’m so sorry, doll.” When he looked into her eyes and saw tears threatening to escape.

“Don’t,” her voice cracked. “Don’t say anything you can’t promise.”

“You don’t have to believe me,” he started to talk. “When I’m done with work, I will do everything in my power to find you and fix everything I fucked up.”

Y/N didn’t comment on it. She couldn’t believe his words. If she did, she would be heartbroken again. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was still in love with him. That’s why she took a step back and let his hands fall down from her face. “Goodbye, James.”

“I love you, Y/N,” he said before she disappeared into the crowd.

. . .

SAM WILSON IS CAPTAIN AMERICA

Y/N smiled at the title in the newspaper. It made her happy that he decided to become the next Captain America. Steve believed in him, and that was why he gave Sam the shield. The suit fit him. She loved that he kept the wings and mixed the Falcon and Cap together.

She took a sip of a coffee and turned the newspaper page, reading more information about Sam. She was genuinely proud of him. Maybe she should give him a call and catch up.

“Y/N?”

Her head snapped up and her eyes widened. She left the newspaper on the table and immediately jumped into Bucky’s arms. He kept his promise and found her. It made her happy - everything that was happening around her made her happy. “Holy shit,” she whispered. When she heard a weird rustling sound, she pulled from him and noticed she smashed a bouquet of flowers between their bodies. “Aw, you brought me flowers and I destroyed them.”

He laughed. “It was worth it,” he put the flowers on the table and quickly pulled her closer to him. “I’m here, doll. I’m here and I’m never leaving again.”

She kissed him, missing his lips. “I love you. Please, never leave me again.”

#Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x Y/N #Bucky Barnes x female reader #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes one shot #Marvel Fanfiction #Bucky Barnes fanfiction

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rogersideup · 2 years

Text

The Senses of Steve

Sight

Series masterlist

Next: Touch

Word count: 7,933

Summary: Steve could finally see you for who you actually are, rather than who he thought you might've been.

Warning: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

The first Avenger you ever met was Tony Stark, and you would never forget that moment. Your whole life led up to that very moment, that very presentation- a job interview of sorts.

Both your parents were active duty in the military since before you were even a tiny twinkle in their eye. They were teenage sweethearts. Met in high school, enlisted together, made the long distance work until they eventually we're given the same orders and managed to settle down together. They married at the ripe age of twenty one years old, had you when they we're only twenty two.

From what you could remember, having young parents was always something you viewed through rose colored glasses. You'd show up to elementary school so proud to tell everyone around you that your mom and dad were practically superheroes, sacrificing themselves on the daily to protect and serve their country.

They were amazing parents. They never pushed you into joining the military as a career for yourself, they even encouraged you to explore different options all your life. They embraced who you truly were rather than what anyone would've wanted you to be. Your love for history and the late Captain America combined with the nature of your parents made you absolutely certain that you wanted to be just like them- your three favorite superheroes.

You had a spunky creative side, proficient in English and literature with a deep love for any creative outlet you could get your hands on. Both of them loved watching how well you could adjust to a new environment and new schools every time the family was uprooted and placed onto a new base in a new state, they called you their little chameleon.

However, everything good about your childhood changed when your father passed away from a work related injury when you were 12 years old. After that, your mother was too busy at work and too stuck in her own grief to take care of you on her own, so you became self sufficient.

You were far too young to know that the responsibility of taking care of yourself and your mother shouldn't have been your weight to bare, but you did it anyways and it affected your whole life. With no one to support you, your grades slipped and you scraped through life by the skin on your teeth.

By the time you turned 18, you joined the Air Force as the only way out. It was the only choice you could see for yourself. You always knew you'd end up in the military, as a young and naïve kid you thought it could be a way to honor you dad and make him proud, and as a less young and certainly not naïve adult it was a way to spite your mother.

Your mother who couldn't even love you, your mother who couldn't even care for you or herself would have no other option than to be stuck in the same misery she trapped you in for six whole fundamental years of your life.

The Air Force ended up being good for you. For the first time in your adult life you found yourself with the very structure and support you always lacked. With time, therapy, and a whole lot of self discovery, you blossomed into what everyone loved to call you now, a diamond.

Formed under extreme amounts of pressure, you went from carbon to precious stone.

You worked your ass off every single day to prove to yourself that the years lost in your youth by playing adult didn't have to be for nothing. You so badly wanted to be better than anything that ever held you back, you used that to tightly wind yourself up and fling yourself forward like a slingshot.

And now here you are. This is where you landed.

Twenty three years old, one year older than age your father was when he welcomed you into this world, pacing back and forth in front of a heavy wooden door in the Avengers compound somewhere upstate, about to convince the greatest mind of your generation why silly little you are good enough to be his equal.

There was a very exclusive opportunity to become an Avenger. You knew you were qualified, you had been in mixed martial arts since you could take your first steps, climbed up military ranks faster than anyone has ever seen, trained with shield for three years and eventually became too skilled for them so you got bored.

However, in this moment you didn't feel like a Chameleon. If felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb in this high scale building. The unsettling feeling that stung your chest and left your mouth permanently dry no matter how much water you anxiously sipped from your water bottle made you hyper aware that you probably didn't belong here.

Knowing you were in a building full of Avengers, and any of them could pop out at any given moment made your heart feel like it was racing out of your own skin, yet somehow you could feel your pulse very slowly thumping at your fingertips.

You tried your absolute hardest to keep your nerves at bay but it didn't help that out of the ten candidates, you were the first to arrive and check in, the only woman that was presented with the opportunity to apply and who actually applied, yet the very last to be called in for a chance to make a good impression.

The door swung open and the sound of dress shoes clicking on the polished marble floors instantly had your stomach in knots.

"Ma'am" The intern with a sweet looking face caught your attention. It was almost like she could see past your brick wall of contained anxiety as she offered you a kind smile. "Mr. Stark is ready for you now."

"Thank you" You grinned back, collecting your resume and portfolio before walking past her and into the room with Tony Stark himself.

"First in, last out?" He questioned before you even fully entered the room, his eyes not leaving the holographic screen that showed your file levitating off the center of his desk. You could see if all right in front of you. Your photo and your life's works ready for harsh judgement.

"That's me." You nod in confirmation with a grin. "So nice to meet you, Mister Stark. It's an honor to even be considered."

"Tony, please, we can drop the professionalism. I always found it boring anyways. If we're going to work together we gotta get along beyond business causal. So... what's your favorite ice cream flavor?"

Although you were taken back, you were pleasantly surprised. Hesitantly sitting across from him at the desk, you place down your file and cross you legs. "Alright, Tony. I guess that makes sense. My favorite ice cream flavor is dark chocolate caramel. I'm assuming yours is Stark Raving Hazelnuts?"

"I'm a little offended that yours isn't, but I legally can't discriminate against you for that." He leaned back in his desk chair. "Dark chocolate caramel, simple yet somehow also complex." He pondered.

"Have you had a day full of chocolate chip cookie doughs?" You questioned. "Mint chocolate chips?"

"If I told you how many of the ten said vanilla you wouldn't believe me" He shrugged.

"Does vanilla have no place on the team?"

"This issue is that we already have a vanilla on the team. Almost 100 years old and the man hasn't sprouted a single gray hair yet so I think we have vanilla covered for a little while longer." He metaphorically explained. His words seeped into your skin and eased your nerves knowing that even if this went wrong, at least you weren't vanilla. "Have any pets? Hobbies?"

"Unfortunately no pets but I can bake a mean cupcake"

"What flavor?"

"Would you hate me if I said vanilla?" You joked.

"I would hate you more if you said chocolate. I've never met a chocolate cupcake I enjoyed. Seems like you just keep getting these answers right."

A small ping of confidence made a small grin tug at the corners of your lips. "You're giving me too much credit here, you've only asked two questions."

"You're right. Let's go rapid fire, answer with no explanation."

"Shoot it" You readjusted in your seat for maximum comfort.

"Do you cry over romcoms?"

"Every Friday night" you nodded.

"Give me one word to describe your time at shield"

"Uncontested" Big word, good job.

"Can you name all the Avengers?"

"Most of you, but aren't there like twenty-something of you now? I think I start getting confused around the little ant guy"

"That's okay, I do too. Favorite kind've food?"

"Any and all Asian food, and also pizza"

"What would you do if someone killed you?"

"Probably die" you raised an eyebrow.

"Cool. Welcome to the team" He said casually while pressing a button on the desk that made the hologram disappear.

"What? That's it? Don't you need to make sure I can physically keep up? Know more about my career? We didn't even talk about my ti-"

"It's fine, I already know all that. Besides, we need dark chocolate caramel on the team anyways.... trying to collect all thirty-one flavors." He stood up. "You want in?"

"I mean- yes of course I'm just so confused" You giggled in disbelief.

"You had letters of recommendation from government officials, high ranking officers, congressmen; I've seen videos of you in action. I already knew it was you before the interviews I'm just legally obligated to do them." He explained while walking through the door.

You quickly gathered your things and stood up to follow him. "What if I said my favorite ice cream flavor was rocky road?"

"I probably would've changed my mind. I only like to be surrounded by those with exquisite taste"

"Thank you so much, Tony. Really, this means the world to me."

"Save those happy tears for later, I gotta run. We'll get your room ready for you to move in on Monday. Maybe meet the team today? I dunno walk around for a bit and see who you can find. I'll have someone get in contact for the less fun stuff. Have fun, there's snacks on every floor"

Tony raced ahead and was immediately lost through a set of more heavy wooden doors. It was only when you were alone in the corridors when you allowed yourself to stop and take a deep breath, maybe even crack a quick smile and mentally celebrate before continuing to walk through the compound again.

Although this has been your dream since being a little kid, you couldn't help but to feel consumed by grief. If your dad was still alive, you'd call him before even taking another step forward. He would tell you that he was proud of his little chameleon for always making it work, he'd reinforce the superhero sentiment, encourage you to save as many lives as you can.

Your mom was alive but she might as well have been dead to you at that point. She wouldn't care. It would fuel her resentment towards you, as you got to thrive while you left your poor Mother all alone.

As you walked through yet another doorway, your thoughts were immediately hauled by a body slamming into yours.

Your files dropped all over the floor, each individual paper flew out and scattered the surrounding area. You idiot! Too deep in your own thoughts to watch where you were going. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorr-"

A group of men, all in uniform, none of them stopping.

That's when you realized.

You didn't run into them, they ran into you. They didn't care. They all laughed and continued conversation while stepping all over the portfolio and resume you spent days on. It was like you were invisible and no one even saw you standing there.

You didn't allow yourself time to think about it too hard before dropping to your knees to pick up your haphazard paper tornado, because if you thought any harder about it each of those men would get a knee to the nuts.

You ignored the sound of a door opening and closing again, the heavy footsteps toward you meant nothing as long as you didn't look up.

"Hey, I saw that happening from my office and I'm so sorry, I'm going to talk to them about it tomorrow." The voice frantically apologized before squatting down to help pick up the papers.

"It's alright, not that big of a deal" You played it cool, trying to remain composed despite the universes' attempt to keep you humble.

"It kind've is that big of a deal." He denied, scooping up papers in his big hands. "Even I know it's time to move past the 40s" he grumbled under his breath.

That statement made you freeze in place. Now, you already knew who was in front of you, but when you finally looked up to confirm your suspicions, the previous grief hit you even harder than before.

Captain America, your childhood hero right in front of you.

Obviously, you knew this was coming very soon, but not this soon. Not when you were struggling to keep your emotions at bay while you're whole career typed out was scattered across the floor.

Little did you know that as an adult, out of the three heroes you had in life, Steve Rogers would be the only one present during such a monumental achievement.

Once again, you couldn't call your dad to tell him that he would never believe what just happened.

Honestly, you almost couldn't believe it either. Because now that unsettled energy, stinging in your chest, and your pulse thumping at your fingertips was coming back, you could only hope he wouldn't notice.

"I-" you started speaking back to him to break the awkward silence before you even realized you didn't know what to say. "It's not that...Yeah. Thank you."

You tapped the stack of papers in your hands against the floor to get all the edges lined up before he handed you the papers in his hands.

"Air Force, huh?" He referred to the bold writing on the top page that was previously in his hands.

"Five years" You politely nodded. "Moved onto shield, now I'm here."

"Here as in...?" He raised an eyebrow and stood up to his full height as you finished shoving stacks back into files.

"Oh! Right... sorry." You stood up and shoved the files between your chest and left arm, extending your right hand to shake his. "I'm YN, I was actually just hired onto the team about three minutes ago."

"And this was your welcome?!" His eyes practically bulged out of his head. "Let me guess, Tony ran off saying he was busy after giving you little to no instruction on what's next"

"Bingo" You nodded, trying to remain polite while also hoping this interaction would end soon so you could cry alone in the peace of your own car.

"Sorry about that." He shook his head in obvious disapproval. "Steve by the way. I promise the compound isn't usually this chaotic or rude."

"Leave it to me to attract the chaos" You grinned, overly self conscious in his presence.

"Well, once everyone knows you're an avenger they'll start clearing the halls for you."

"Oh is that what it takes to get some respect around here?" You playfully pushed while silently praying the tears pooling in your lower lash line weren't visible.

"Unfortunately a lot of the people here have egos beyond their means, but again, I'll take care of those guys and bring them down to very humble roots" His smile that was stretching from ear to ear dropped to a reassuring and polite grin when he noticed the pending emotion in your eyes.

Steve almost felt nervous around you. His palms were sweaty and his heart was racing- it was only when he got a good look at your watery eyes did he notice the extent of how strikingly beautiful you were.

"Are you alright?" He questioned, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Yeah" you uncomfortably chuckle before carefully rubbing your eyes while trying not to ruin your makeup. "Sorry. It just took a lot to get here and it's a lot to take in, then the papers, and... yeah... this is the worst first impression ever."

That was only half of it. You couldn't look him in the eye and tell a complete stranger that you were trying not to cry because you had no one you could tell the good news to, no one to tell you that they were proud. No one that counted, that is.

Another odd realization, he meant a lot to you, and you were just his weird new coworker.

"I get it" He empathized sweetly. "Well if it makes you feel any better I certainly didn't get a bad impression"

"Thank you" you recollected yourself with a deep breath.

"Well since Tony didn't give you much to work with, let me just..." he pat all 4 pockets of his jeans before realizing what he was looking for wasn't there. "Hold on, stay right there"

He fast walked down the hall and into the door he just came out of, before popping back out not even a full 10 seconds later.

"Here's all my contact information" He handed you a small card, his phone number and email was printed in a fancy font onto some beautiful, high quality paper. "Call me or text me whenever you want. Especially if you have any questions or anything"

"Thank you so much" Your heart beamed. Steve Rogers phone number? You didn't deserve it. "Here, take mine too!" You opened up a file and ripped your contact information out of the top corner of your resume since you obviously didn't even need it anymore. "Not quite as fancy as yours"

"Hey, it gets the job done" He shrugged. "I'd offer to show you around but I understand you probably need some time to process. Want to stop by sometime this week? I can introduce you to whoever's around and let you get a hold on the ropes before Tony throws you into the lions den."

"That sounds amazing" You took him up on his offer.

"Great, I'll text you later." He flashed a goofy lopsided smile. "Or you can text me. Doesn't really matter."

"It was an honor to meet you, Steve." His first name felt informal and undermining on your tongue, but you knew a formal title probably wasn't in your best interest as you tried to convince yourself that you were an equal to any of the Avengers.

"The honor was all mine"

You raced back to your car in a hurry and started calculating all the ways you celebrate your successfully day regardless of the circumstances. Maybe you'll stop for coffee before packing your things into boxes, maybe take out and a bottle of wine for dinner?

A huge wave of relief washed over you now that you no longer had to hide your emotions, but the tears never fell until three minutes into your Google search for coffee shops in the area when you were disrupted and thrown in an emotional loop by one silly text from an unknown number.

'Hey, this is Steve! I forgot to say congratulations! Always happy to have another person on the team :)'

That was exactly when you lost it. A sob escaped your lips and tears fell down your cheeks as you surrendered all emotional control. The elixir of excitement, pride, grief and resentment was all too much.

After an hour allowance, you snapped yourself out of your feelings with an iced coffee in hand while packing your one bedroom apartment away into cardboard boxes.

Somehow, someway, before you even got home, Tony had paid out the rest of your lease and the fee to break the year long contract.

It felt like you were moved into the compound in a blink of an eye. Your room was sandwiched between Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff, and right across the hall from Sam Wilson which you felt unworthy of by all means.

The first few days were interesting to say the least. It was the first time in your whole life you struggled to integrate yourself into an established environment. The hours and hours of paperwork, physically strenuous agility, strength and stamina tests were isolating. Not to mention the 3 days of medical examinations to make sure you were in tip-top shape. It had felt like every inch of your body had been poked and prodded.

You couldn't really join in on team dinners or fun activities during the day, there was no time to stop and talk to anyone, and by the time you got back to your room at night, you were too exhausted to even commit to a conversation with anyone about anything.

Besides, these people had bonded for years under circumstances you couldn't even imagine yet. You could barely work your way into conversation when you had a chance, so you sat and listened, desperate to learn the dynamic.

You didn't want to come on too strong, but you also didn't want to come off too small. It was a difficult balance, and your brain decided to shut down at any opportunity you had to assert yourself.

As much as you hated to admit it, you could barely even look Steve in the eye. You couldn't get yourself to work past the the grief over such a sacred part of your childhood. That very same part where he didn't even register in your head as a real person, when your dad was still around to pick you up from school everyday, and your mom still loved you without resentment.

As you sat in the phlebotomy lab in the compound with needles and IV's in your arms, taking tubes and tubes of blood for testing, you closed your eyes and let your head hit the wall behind you.

All of this change in your life felt confusing, and your lack of ability to blend in made you feel like you weren't supposed to be here. Like you had made a mistake. Maybe it was the universe telling you to get out while you still could, step down, join the military again. The air force would always welcome you back with open arms.

"You doing okay?" The sweet nurse asked while capping off one vial of blood to fill the next. "Feeling dizzy?"

"I'm okay" You smiled politely. "Not dizzy"

There was a small knock on the doorframe, you looked up to see Steve leaning against it. "Are you sure? You look like miserable"

"I think that's just my face" You jokingly shrugged, trying to play it cool.

"Try to stay still" the nurse reminded you.

"Sorry" you whispered.

"Is it okay if I sit and talk with you?" Steve asked before he even dared to step foot in a room you were receiving medical attention in.

"Depends, am I getting fired already?" You asked only half joking this time as you heart rate increased. "If not you can definitely sit"

"It's pretty customary we take agents blood before we fire them, you know, just in case" his smile was cautious as he slowly entered the room and sat in a chair across from you.

"Am I trapped here forever now that you have my DNA?" Again, a half joke.

"Of course you are. I'm going to make a clone of you, maybe start an army."

"God, that's my worst nightmare" You politely chuckled.

"What? Clones?" He questioned with a curious head tilt and goofy smile.

"No, a bunch of me running around" You corrected, earning a laugh from the soldier. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Well-" He started and got more comfortable in his seat. "I know these first few days can make you feel like a lab rat so I just wanted to check in on you, make sure you're doing and feeling okay."

In that moment, you realized there was nowhere to go. With your arms being the subject to experiment you couldn't run, you couldn't avoid, and you certainly couldn't ask him to leave. You almost wish your life long hero turned out to be an asshole because processing that he was rude would be easier than having to constantly run from the feelings in your own head.

"I'm okay" You reassured again.

"Then why do you look miserable?" He challenged.

"I told you it's just my face" You playfully reminded him.

"Maybe one of your clones will tell me the truth" He joked. "Nothing about this is easy. I struggled when I got here, and you were practically crying when you were hired on."

"You're really going to call me out like that? That's how this is?" Your eyebrows raised.

"That's how it is" he grinned. "Not to make this weird but I've been keeping an eye on you, and you seem very... tentative. Uncomfortable maybe?"

"Do you double as a therapist? Super hero by day, shrink by night?" You questioned.

"It's actually more time efficient to be a shrink from nine to five, then work in the superhero stuff after."

"Oh, right, makes total sense!" You agreed with the nonsense.

"Sorry to interrupt but we're going to start running some of this, but stay here. I'll be back in a few minutes to see if we need more" The nurse said before leaving the room with the vials.

"How many of those have you filled?" Steve questioned, referring to the vials.

"I lost track after 15"

"Well now I have to fire you because you lost track of the vial count" He poked.

"I had a good run, it was an honor." You agreed.

"I heard you kicked ass yesterday in your agility assessment"

"Yeah? Who'd you hear that from?" You questioned.

"The assessor who has been stuck in bed all day with sore muscles an a pull in his abdomen" Steve laughed.

"Oops?"

"You're a way better fit than Tony made you out to be, he let me review your resume. I'm impressed."

"Thank you, it means a lot. I don't have a flying suit or a special power but I'll definitely try my hardest to keep up."

"Is that what this is about?" He asked, head tilting to the side again.

"What?"

"Your miserable face?" He picked up the way your eyes never left the floor in front of his feet.

You stopped to think about your next words so you could choose them wisely. You didn't want to come off as the overly emotional woman or seem unfit for your new role. "I'm not miserable, I'm just having a hard time believing I should be here." You admitted half the truth as he crumbled your protective walls.

"I'm sure it won't help much to tell you that you're qualified for the job, but here I am running my mouth anyway." He made fun of himself. "But I dunno, based off your record it seems like you're not the type to doubt your ability."

"Typically I'm not, but you guys are just so... established. I don't really know how to work my way in."

"You don't have to work your way in, everyone already wants you around. All you have to do is show up." Steve smiled.

"It's a little hard to show up when I'm a lab rat"

"Which is why I came to you"

"So I'm not getting fired...?"

"Still don't know that yet" Steve shrugged. "You seem pretty close with Scott already"

"Yeah, he's really sweet. We talked about his podcast and what Cassie is up too. He thinks Cassie and I are really similar" You explained.

"I also saw you talking to Thor" He pointed out.

"Thor was nice, lots of flattery."

"Flirting is what he does best" Steve pointed out. "Bucky? Sam? Nat? Peter Parker?"

"I've talked to Sam and Spidey, not so much Bucky and Nat"

"Okay, so it's not just me you avoid"

Your eyes snapped up off the floor at his statement, a small grin spread across his lips.

"I don't avoid you" You furrowed your brows, lying straight through your teeth.

"This is the first time we've had a conversation since we've met, you didn't text me back, and you leave the room every time I enter it." He challenged.

"I don't-"

"But you do" He insisted with a kind expression. He wasn't standing off or angry, he was empathetic. He just wanted to make sure you we're okay. "Why do you do that?"

"Steve" You warned.

"Do I make you uncomfortable? Did I do something to upset you?" He questioned further. "If we're going to be a team, we have to be comfortable with each other. We have to get along... build trust."

"It's not you" You shook your head, back slumping against the back of your chair contemplating if you were about to spill your guts to him. "Not your fault"

You cursed yourself for making him feel like he did something wrong, for allowing your grief to cloud this experience for you.

"But there's something wrong?" He asked sympathetically.

"Kind've? but also not really, and it's definitely not you" You nervously played with your fingers.

"Is it hard to talk about?"

"How could you tell?" You questioned rhetorically.

"I'm not going to force you into talking about it, but is there anything I can do to make it better?"

"You didn't do anything in the first place so I can't imagine you have to prove anything to me to make it better"

"I don't want you running away from me anymore, I really really really want to be friends with you" He pleaded like a child, it brought a smile to your face.

Of course he wanted to be friends with you, the prettiest girl he's ever seen. Quite honestly, his brain screamed at him to run away every time he saw you too. His palms would sweat and his heart would race, yet for some reason you pulled him in like a magnet.

Steve saw so many traits in you that he had when he first came out of the ice. Avoidance, distance, you just looked lost. You made yourself small, scurried through common areas quiet and stealth as a mouse, yet when you were around anyone who wasn't one of the Avengers, you became larger than life. Self assured with a big ear to ear smile on your face like you ruled the whole entire world.

He saw the way your eyes stayed trained on the floor, your fingers were constantly intertwined with each other in an anxious attempt to find something to fidget with, while the inside of your bottom lip squished between your teeth.

He knew the feeling all too well, it was like being stuck inside yourself with no way out. He saw the pain, he saw the struggle, he saw himself in you and he desperately wanted to pull you out.

"We can be friends" You told him, he swore that was the first time he had ever seen your real smile. Your big bright teeth were such an addictive sight, he wanted to see it over and over again.

"That means not running away from me anymore" Steve challenged.

"Am I running away right now?" You asked.

"No, but you also have tiny plastic tubes in your veins, there's kind've nowhere for you to go"

"Hey, I have extensive medical training, I could take these out no problem if I wanted to!" You proved your point. "And just for the record, I don't like having casual friends, it's best friends or nothing at all."

"Then it's settled, we're best friends now" He agreed.

The couple days after that, you actually did start feeling better about the situation in general. The huge wave of grief finally settled into tiny ripples, allowing for you to pop you head above the surface to take a big deep breath.

Steve helped. A lot.

Every single morning without fail, he would greet you with wide arms and an even wider smile before saying "good morning, best friend!" and trapping you in the biggest hugs you've ever received.

You two would go about your work like the adults you were, but Steve turned into a dysfunctional codependent every single time he got off work.

He would shove other team members out of the way so you could sit next to him while watching movies, he forced you out of your shell and invited you to everything. Dinners, bars, workouts at the gym, game night.

Eventually everyone was getting jealous that Steve took up all your time, and created a demand for the supply of you.

Before you even knew it, it felt like you were the most sought out avenger on the team. When you entered a room with more than one of them, it felt like getting pulled in a million different directions for a million different reasons.

But you would have that over feeling lost and unwanted any day. You had to hand it to Steve, it was like this was his plan all along.

He took you into the palm of his hand until you were comfortable, then shared you with everyone else. It was like he was the only one who really truly saw you for who you were.

After two months, he really did feel like a best friend. When you looked at him you didn't see a product of your childhood, you didn't see little you running around the park with a plastic shield, the little girl that would love to be the grown version of yourself, you saw your best friend. Your favorite gossip buddy, the guy who preferred hot lattes over iced ones, a big softy who cried over Friday night romcoms with you, the gentle giant who encourages you with a push without making you topple over.

You still had a hard day every once in a while, times where your muscles were too sore to move and days you desperately wanted to talk to your parents. Steve was always the first one to see the internal conflict. He saw it in your posture, the twinkle in your eyes would fizzle, and your smile only reached half capacity, but you did a good job trying to hide it.

So good that he was typically the only one who saw it. And on those days, he still would never make you talk about it.

He would hug you a little longer to say good morning, drag you out on a run, then force you to relax with him after work.

You knew he saw your struggle, and you knew he tried to make you feel better without saying a single word about it.

That's the funny thing about healing. It wasn't linear. Good days and bad days alike, you were just happy to be surrounded by people who genuinely loved you now. A whole bunch of dysfunctional codependents- a whole bunch of best friends.

Another crazy phenomenon started happening, you started seeing all of Steve's behavior too. You could spot his draining social battery, his sleepiness after a restless night, his distaste in a raunchy conversation, you knew how he was feeling before he expressed it, you always saw it.

And what you didn't know, was that he was silently grieving too. It seemed like everyone knew but you, especially one morning when you woke up and you didn't see Steve in the living room.

You didn't get your morning hug from your best friend, no gym Buddy in sight.

You walked in, stopped in your tracks, then pouted.

"What's wrong, Princess?" Thor questioned, Asgardian accent popping out.

"Where's Steve?" You questioned, turning you head towards Natasha.

"Oh, it's October 15th." Nat informed you, as if that was supposed to ring a bell. "We never see Steve on October 15th"

You stood there throughly confused, cocking your head to the side.

"Oh yeah, it's National leave Steve Rogers alone day" Bucky giggled to himself.

"I'm so confused" You admitted, walking towards the kitchen island where Bucky and Nat stood around.

"It's the anniversary of his Mom's passing, he usually spends the day at the cemetery and doesn't like to be bothered." Bucky explained.

All you did was nod, you understood now.

"You know, it happened in 1936, you'd think he would be over it by now" Bucky added, causing an immediate pang in your heart. "It doesn't even feel like we're in the same world as her anymore, yet he always goes back."

"Rogers' is a very sensitive soul, you gotta let him have it" Nat playfully nudged Bucky's elbow.

The subject ended as fast as it started, and you certainly weren't going to bring it up again. You ate breakfast with them like business per usual, then went about the rest of your day.

The only difference is that you spent your downtime today going to the craft store to pick up supplies for something you haven't made since middle school, then you sat in your room with a romcom in the background while you worked away.

Once you were happy with the result and everyone else had gone to bed, you moved your movie over to the living room and waited for Steve to come home.

It took a few hours, but he stumbled through the door at around 11:30. He set his keys down on the counter, and kicked his shoes off by the door before dragging his feet all the way over to you and fell onto the couch with a heavy plop.

The whole couch was available, but he sat right next to you, so you took half your blanket and threw it over his lap. You pulled something out of your pocket, then grabbed his forearm and moved it so it was settled on your lap while you tied the product of your hard work around his wrist.

A friendship bracelet.

You made two of them, a bunch of threads knotted together now lived on both of your wrists as a symbol of your best friendship. The one you put on him was the colors of your suit, while the one you wore was red white and blue.

After you tied it on, you put your wrist next to his to show him what you had done.

Although you could see his tired and sad eyes, he still smiled. It was a genuine smile too, the kind that makes your whole face scrunch up.

"I've never had friendship bracelets with anyone before" He admitted while looking at you as if you had just forced his inner child out.

"Well now you do, congratulations" You grinned, speaking softly.

"You just made my whole day a million times better" He smiled. "I'm never taking it off, thank you. You're a peach"

"You are very welcome, best friend" You grinned before turning you attention back to the movie. "Juno, have you ever seen it?"

"Mhm, I love this movie" He gave a small nod.

"Wanna watch with me? I can restart it, I don't mind."

"You're doing that thing, aren't you?" He questioned sheepishly.

"Thing? What thing?" You questioned even though you were definitely doing that thing.

"The thing I always do to you. Where you know I had a bad day, and you're trying to cheer me up without forcing me to talk about it?"

"Oh! That thing!" You exaggerated. "Pssst, why would I ever do that? Of course if you were having a bad day I'd let you suffer alone. Who do you think I am? Mother Theresa? I don't offer those services, Rogers. I'm glad you had a terrible time."

"You suck" He scrunched up his nose.

"What can I say? I'm a terrible awful no good human being" You shrugged. "Which is exactly why you are going to eat ice cream with me, and we're going to watch Juno. Oh! And if you're really good, maybe tomorrow I'll teach you how to make friendship bracelets so you can make some for your boyfriends"

"My boyfriends?"

"Sam and Bucky obviously"

"Oh, right" He hummed before letting his head hit the back of the couch. His smile faded fast but he was trying really hard not to kill the mood.

"Would talking about it make you feel better?" You asked sympathetically. "Bucky kinda told me what was up, but not in great detail."

"I don't even know what there is to say. It's been so long, yet every year on this day if feels like it just happened yesterday. I don't even know if my own mother would recognize me if she saw me now."

"Of course she would, you look the same! Just taller" You smiled. "Did you have a good relationship with your mom?"

"Yeah, the best. The best heart I've ever known"

"Well, obviously she passed that down to you"

"I don't know about that, but I'll take it" He pressed his hand to his chest. "I'll get over it. It's silly. Just one day a year where I can't seem to shake it, but I'll be okay."

"Of course you'll be okay, but I don't think it's silly. Losing a parent isn't something you just get over, it's okay to welcome that grief and sit in it for a little while. It's a beautiful reminder of all the love you still have for her." You reminded him. "You don't always have to be the tough guy."

"What are your parents like?" Steve asked, finally looking at your face.

"Dead" you said bluntly.

"Nice, mine too" he laughed at your answer.

"We just have so much in common!" You faked enthusiasm. "My dad is dead, he passed when I was 12. My mom is figuratively dead, she also passed when I was 12 but unfortunately I didn't get a chance to discard the remains until I was 18"

"Did you kill your mother?" He whispered jokingly.

"I probably should've" you whispered back, earning not so quiet laughter. "She's been calling me for weeks wondering where I am, but I really think she would be happier if one of us was dead"

"She doesn't know you're an Avenger now?" He questioned seeming genuinely surprised.

"The only people that know are my old commanding officers" You admitted. "Probably the only people who care."

"They must be very proud"

"Okay, this is not about me" You giggled, trying to steer the conversation away from all the emotions that tend to consume you.

"I'm proud of you" He ignored your plea.

His words hit you like semi truck, you had to bite your bottom lip to keep it from quivering and giving away all the emotions flooding your brain.

"I wanna hear more about your mom" You told him in another desperate attempt.

"I'm the sad one, which means I get to choose what we talk about to make me feel better, which means I want to know why you get so worked up around me sometimes." He lifted his hand just to poke your arm.

You covered your face with your hands before letting out a dramatic groan that caused him to laugh. "So embarrassing"

"What could possibly be so embarrassing?" He asked, gently prying your hands away from your face. "I'm probably the least judgmental person you'll ever meet" he smiled when your eyes poked out.

"God- I hate you, Rogers" You complained in defeat.

"Mhm, tell me more" A laugh erupted from his chest.

"Do I really have to?" You complained.

"No" He shook his head. "If it's still too hard to talk about we don't have to" He dropped the act and let go of your wrists.

He was so sweet, the sugar rotted away your brick wall. Oh, and when he looked at you with those big, blue, puppy dog eyes you couldn't deny him of anything.

"Ugh! Fine!" You surrendered. "I'll tell you but I swear if you laugh or make fun of me I'll never tell you anything ever again!"

All he did was smirk and lift up his pinky finger to wrap around yours, a non-verbal promise. "We have friendship bracelets for a reason! I take this very seriously, best friend."

"Okay. When I was a kid I had three ultimate heroes" You started, taking a moment to acclimate to the embarrassment. "My dad, my mom, and you."

"Me?!" He pointed to himself with a big goofy smile on his face.

"You" You nodded. "My parents were both military and you were... well... you, so I just thought the three of you guys were just the epitome of what a human should be. I dunno, I guess back then it was so simple, such a sacred part of my childhood."

"I am pretty cool, aren't I?" He joked.

"You suck, I hate you now, remember?" You joked back. "Don't let this inflate you're ego."

"They do say don't meet your heroes" He nudged you with his shoulder.

"All of that was before my dad passed and my relationship with my mom got complicated." You further explained. "It's really weird for me, most of my life I thought you were dead. And now, during such a pivotal point in my life, I don't have either of my parents but I have you. Having someone around again that means so much to me and be so kind to me has been an adjustment. I appreciate you so much, but sometimes I can't help but to think of how complete I would feel if i still had my parents to see all of this craziness. In a weird way, it makes me grieve all over again."

"When my mom passed, I was too sick to even tie my own shoes. My dad was gone before I was even born. I always wonder what my mom would say if she say all of this. A part of me thinks she would be happy for me, but a bigger part of me thinks I'd give the poor woman a heart attack if she knew what I've been up to" He explained. "Sometimes, all I want to do is just talk to her. Tell her about how life has been going, let her know everything about me. But I can't. And it seems like you can't do that either, so when you feel that way, just come talk to me. I'll always listen, okay?"

You nodded and swallowed back a lump in your throat. You know your behavior at the beginning of this journey all made sense to him now, it was like he could finally see you for who you actually are, rather than who he thought you might've been.

"You need a hug?" He asked.

"You give the best hugs" You nodded.

He held his arms out for you, inviting you into his personal space. You accepted by snuggling close and holding him just as tight as he was holding you.

"I really am proud of you" he insisted. "Thank you for trusting me"

"I guess I don't hate you that bad"

"Yes! Best complement ever" he happily accepted. "See?! We're still best friends!"

“Uh huh” You sarcastically giggled as he let you go.

In such a short amount of time, you already found yourself missing his touch.

Next part: Touch

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corporatefrog · 1 year

Text

╰┈➤ Welcome Back to the Channel part 16; free ice cream

✧.* featuring kyle and yn walking to an unknown (and probably fine, totally not murderous) location : ̗̀➛ notes - here's your daily reminder to why i don't write serious things lmao tags - college au, superhero au, smau

series masterlist previous | next

Kyle didn’t tell me where we were going.

“We’re going to talk to the doctor.” He’d say as if it weren’t the most infuriatingly cryptic thing ever. What kind of superhero noir film does he think we’re in?

Rule number 1 is don’t follow men into unknown dark places. Granted, the men in those situations are built like a Jostar and super scary. Compared to that, Kyle is more of a pomeranian off his leash. I could tell him that Donald Glover leaves Community in the fifth season and he’d be out of commission for long enough to kick his lanky legs and take him down.

Why are we thinking about the specifics of physically restraining our friend?

You can never be too prepared.

Now you’re being cryptic. We aren't even in a sketchy area. Isn’t that literally craig’s house?

My focus returned to my surroundings as I noticed the houses lining the street. I’d only seen craig’s house once when Butters shared a picture of a bear standing in his driveway, thinking it was a dog, but that was enough to solidify the house to memory.

Without realizing, my steps slowed as I became lost in my thoughts again.

I’m in the neighborhood where Craig’s family lives. Clyde told me he lived in the same neighborhood with the guys for most of their life. That means Kyle probably lives in the same neighborhood too. Kyle knows about Butters.

And we’re diving in this hole, WHY?

Shut up, I’m onto something... I think.

Kyle knows about Butters. Butters is Chaos. We’re in Craig’s neighborhood. Craig. Butters. Kyle. Superheroes. Craig. Fucking SUPER CRAIG.

Holy shit. I forgot about Super Craig.

“KYLE!” I snapped back to reality. Kyle had gotten a half a block ahead of me. When he turned back, his own nervous gaze met mine. He held up a finger to his lips, gesturing to the dark street as a reminder that this isn’t the place to shout this late at night.

I pressed my lips together to hopefully hold back any other impulsive shouts and speed walked to catch up with him.

“Kyle we’re so fucking stupid. I can’t believe I didn’t realize it-” Kyle cut off my rambling.

“What? Is something wrong?” He asked, voice matching my own panic as his nerves bounced off of mine.

“Of course something is wrong. Craig’s a superhero too! Don’t you see it?” I asked, looking up at Kyle. Panic radiated off both of us, air growing electric as our thoughts bounced off of each other in a silent amplification of anxiety.

Kyle opened his mouth to respond but no words came out. He paused, then closed his mouth, swallowing the words. He turned away from me, continuing down the sidewalk as though I didn’t just drop a friendship altering bomb.

“Come on, we’ve got to get to Timmy’s house.” Kyle said over his shoulder, turning to walk up the steps of a house at the end of the block.

Who the fuck is timmy?

"Are we not going to address this? Or do I only get one theory confirmed every 24 hours?" I questioned, jogging to catch up with Kyle on the doorstep.

He didn't look in my direction. Instead he rung the doorbell and kept his eye trained on the entryway. "All of the above."

“This free ice cream better come with a month of therapy after this bullshit.” I muttered to myself as the door swung open revealing him. The one who is meant to answer all of my questions. The one who had the power to keep Kyle Broflovski silent.

Dr. Timothy.

taglist [reply to be added]: @sula0kin @lacuna-at-dawn @anglettecolours @cocolena@sukisprettyface @feverish-dove @sweetadonisbutbetter @hand-writxen@mishstuff@sophtophie @triphovia @lacunaanonymoused @inkedintothepaper @toodeepintofandoms@mmmaackerel @sillybilly-123@n0tangeliccc

#next chapter is text so dont worry if you hate these #i have another story idea for after this that'll be more written oriented so pls lmk if you like this style!!#welcome back to the channel #south park smau #south park x reader #south park #corporatefrog #tfbw #sp tfbw #the fractured but whole

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i-am-bitterly-jittery · 6 months

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On Death's Doorstep (pt 36/?)

[<<First],,,,[<Prev],[Next>] [ODD Masterlist]

Word count: 1501

Rating: Teen

Pairings: Anxceit, Karrot Kings

Warnings: kidnapping, evil government agencies, abandonment issues, certain characters need therapy

~~~START~~~

And to think, when Janus woke up this morning, they’d thought the only plans they had were to watch the end of Totoro with Patton. Poor, naive first-thing-in-the-morning Janus, little did they know.

The entire household, minus Patton, was assembled in the living room that had been Virgil’s for less than twenty-four hours before he’d run off to be stupid and heroic. Some of the tension that hung thick in the air might have been due to the fact that this was the first time Logan and Remy had been in the same room since Remy’s resurrection, but Janus had more important things on their mind than whether or not Logan was a bad father.

Remy had turned the TV on sometime between when Janus had left, and when Logan brought them back down, so now they had the dull voices of the either incredibly oblivious or paid off newscasters as they speculated the identities of the victims and the likelihood they would be saved droning on in the background. In Janus’s — admittedly biased — opinion, only a moron would fail to see that this was a targeted attack; a completely unknown villain attacks a mall, steals nothing, kidnaps two civilians, and leaves without a fight? Unrealistic.

No, unfortunately all the pieces seemed to be coming together, and Janus did not like the picture they were forming. First, someone somehow knows — or guesses — where Logan will strike, and frames him for blowing up a building and killing a vigilante; then the Director of the Metahuman Affairs Agency shows up on the doorstep of the mother of said vigilante and asks some… probing questions that suggest the Agency is out to get the father of the vigilante (who happens to be Logan); and finally, a supervillain just happens to kidnap the fathers, and only the fathers, of the city’s runaway superhero.

The MAA were the clear culprits, and Janus did not like Virgil’s odds in this fight.

“We have to go after him!” Roman declared loudly, lowering his volume only slightly when shushed. Patton had mercifully stayed asleep so far, and while their luck couldn’t last forever, no one wanted to fast track that conversation. “He’s one of us now, and he needs our help.”

“As much as I want to go after him,” Janus said, all the while shooting worried glances towards Patton’s door. “We don’t know where he went. He can track people and teleport; we have no leads to follow.”

“Maybe he’s–”

Whatever Remy was going to say was cut off suddenly as Patton’s door began to creak open.

Everyone held their breath as a barely awake Patton shuffled out, cat stuffie clutched in his hand.

“Daddy?” He asked, pushing his glasses up with one hand in order to rub the sleep from one eye.

Janus looked to Logan to help; the older man merely gestured at Patton as if to say, “this is your job”. Right, Janus’s job. They could do this.

Janus steeled themself up and tried to project an air of calm — it wouldn’t do to add to the distress Patton would no doubt be feeling in the air.

“Hey, buddy,” they started, approaching Patton slowly, like he was a bomb just waiting to go off. Patton, unfortunately, was already starting to tear up. “Daddy’s not here right now–”

“No!” Patton yelled, cat stuffie held against his heart in a death grip.

“It’s gonna be alright–”

“NO!”

“Pat–” Janus reached out to comfort the child, but their hand passed right through him.

“Nonononono!” Patton continued to scream, but Janus was more focused on their hand and the way it passed this way and that through Patton’s shoulder and arm without making any kind of contact.

“Logan, dear,” Janus heard Babs start behind them.

They were starting to panic, and they knew most of it wasn’t their own, that Patton was unintentionally projecting, but that didn’t make it any easier to overcome.

“All the floors are phase-proof,” Logan replied, no doubt answering his mom’s unasked question.

“Patton please,” Janus begged, unable to get their hands on the screaming five-year-old. “We’ll get him back, I swear!”

But Patton wasn’t listening. The cat slipped from his hands and landed solidly on the ground. The lack of comfort item in his grasp only caused Patton to wail louder.

Janus wished desperately that they knew the right words to say that could comfort Patton, that they could hold him while his world fell apart. But all they could do was watch helplessly as Patton cried for his dad.

Eventually, someone sat on the floor next to Janus. They turned to find Remus picking the cat stuffie up off the ground. She started making the cat dance around as she told what Janus found to be a very strange story about the cat’s adventures; it wasn’t until the third left-field plot-twist that Janus realized what she was doing.

They were trying to shock Patton out of his distress. They were trying to soothe him with their voice and surprise him with her words.

It wasn’t until the cat’s boat was sunk by the Kraken that Patton’s wails quieted into sniffles, and by the time the Kraken married both Godzilla and Mothman — with the cat as the Best Man, of course — that Janus found they could reach out and touch him.

Gingerly, they pulled Patton into their arms. He went willingly enough. Their distress spiked from the direct contact with the still projecting Patton, but there was something almost cathartic about it now.

“It’s not forever,” Janus promised, fat tears rolling down their face as Remus handed Patton the cat back. “We’ll bring him back as soon as we can.”

“Promise?” Patton asked weakly.

“Double pinky promise!” Two Remuses said at the same time, offering their pinkies to Patton. Patton didn’t take them, but he seemed satisfied as he leaned further into Janus’s embrace, panic receding slightly.

Janus looked around to find that while one Roman was hovering nervously, and another one and Logan had gone to make breakfast in the kitchen. Barbra was staring directly at the TV, but Janus didn’t doubt she was paying more attention to them than she was to the news, and they didn’t mind thinking so. Remy looked away quickly when Janus glanced at her, but she had definitely been watching the scene as nervously as Roman was.

“Are you hungry?” They asked Patton gently. The toddler nodded against their chest. “Do you want to go to the kitchen with Roman?”

“‘Kay,” Patton answered tiredly.

Roman moved instantly, carefully lifting Patton from Janus’s grip.

“Come along, my young prince,” he said, lacking his usual enthusiasm. “We shall venture forth and find some pancakes!”

“I don’t know how anyone raises children,” Janus muttered once they were far enough away, leaning fully against Remus. “Especially superpowered children.”

Babs laughed. “Logan was a handful, that’s for sure. Of course, I did have the unfair advantage of knowing what he was going to do a little in advance.”

“What about Emile?” Asked Janus before they suddenly realized their mistake. They tried to backtrack, but Barbra was already waving them off.

“I don’t mind talking about Emile,” she smiled a little sadly, but mostly fondly. “The best way to honor his life is to share it.”

Logan definitely did not share this philosophy, and the only reason Janus even knew about Emile was because they’d needed Logan to explain his sudden change in demeanor before they’d allow him to commit crimes with them.

“Emile was very bright,” Babs said, doing a wonderful job of acting like she didn’t know what Janus was thinking. “He could have gotten into trouble if he’d had a mind for it, but he never did. He adored his brother, and was always following Logan around — of course, Logan adored him too, but you’d never hear him admit it.”

“Did he have powers too?” Remus asked eagerly, Janus was pretty sure she and Roman had been pestering Barbra for stories about Logan as a child and had been taking in every scrap of information hungrily.

“He had a touch of super strength, but he almost never used it — mostly he just pulled the fridge out when his father had a mind to clean behind it. My boys,” she mused wistfully. “I hope they’re showing Atlas what for.”

Janus tried to smile at that, but they didn’t have much in them.

“I’m worried we’re not going to be enough for Patton,” they admitted. “But I don’t know what to do besides getting Virgil back.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” Remy started, raising her hand. Janus and Remus both startled, having almost forgotten she was there, Babs just smiled encouragingly. “But I think I have an idea.”

Janus looked at her, then at the TV she’d been watching. A hero Janus vaguely recognized from the news was escorting Backlash out of an abandoned-looking warehouse. Behind them, a second hero was escorting the mostly unscathed Thomas and Nico Flores-Sanders.

~~~END~~~

Ten points to whoever can guess what the supervillains’ next move is lol

ODD taglist

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @arsonic-knight @misunderstood-shadowling @lost-in-thought-20 @remy-the-lemon-berry @jinxcrafter @apinkline2715 @gothfoxx @donutsarepartybagels @xoaningout @meganmoneky14 @lunatatic

#sanders sides #ts sanders sides #janus sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #remy sanders #superhero au #on death’s doorstep #thursday writes #my writing #sanders sides fanfiction

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lunarsun12 · 1 day

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Seomghwa Therapy Session

Masterlist

From the previous episode (click here to see the previous episode). Taehyun and Hyuka has enough of Beomgyu getting away with everything. They decided to call their uncle senghwa, asking to live with him. To make Soobin and Yeonjun appreciate them.

After the two left, Beomgyu angel facade has vanished. He has been terrorising them and Soobin has been complaining nonstop to Seonghwa.

Seonghwa decided to fix their family problem, by offering his therapy.

Will Hyuka and Taehyun come back home..?

Soobin and Seonghwa Private Chat

Today 16:00

Soobin🍞: Seonghwa, please tell Kai and Taehyun to come back home!

Seonghwa🌸: You always say, I need to control my children and now look at you now

Soobin🍞: We got played by Beomgyu all this time! How am I supposed to know he was plotting to get rid of them!!

Soobin🍞: After those two left, he started to be a menace! Luckily for me I wasn’t there but according to Yeonjun, he locked Yeonjun in our bedroom and made him late for work

Seonghwa🌸: Don’t your child has a job?

Soobin🍞: errmmm we don’t talk about that, every job he has. The employer was like take him away something with scaring the public…

Seonghwa🌸: Just grab your husband and child. I will create a chat to sort your mess out

10 mins later…

Seonghwa created the chat:

Superhero Seonghwa To The Rescue

Yeonjun🦊: Seonghwa?

Seonghwa🌸: H-hi

Hongjong🏴‍☠️: Hello, Yeonjun…you stay away from hwa

Yeonjun🦊: Aishhh, i said his name!

Soobin🍞: Oh the irrespon- ah I mean hey Hongjong rare to see you here

Taehyun🐯: Why are we here, Kai is with me! As I think Jongho took his phone away to play games

Beomgyu🐻: Why are they are here! They better not come back after all the effort I did!!

Soobin🍞: Kai and Taehyun we are really sorry for not listening to you all about Beomgyu! We really love you!

Yeonjun🦊: Yes! Who know that sneaky brat can be so smart

Beomgyu🐻: Not my problem…should have used a brain old man ha ha ha

Taehyun🐯: Why can I hear his windshield laugh over the phone

Taehyun🐯(Kai): I actually like seonghwa Eomma! He is sweet, he gave me a cookie!

Soobin🍞: He is not your Eomma! I am!!

Seonghwa🌸: You kids said, they were unfairly treated because you two. Literally didn’t do anything when Beomgyu did his evil deeds

Soobin🍞: We were fooled!! He knows how to play with our strings

Seonghwa🌸: They were upset as one you two said you never loved them! That must have hurt

Hongjong🏴‍☠️: ooooooo

Soobin🍞: Yeonjun you big mouth!

Yeonjun🦊: What? I was angry in the moment! Kai broke my favourite teacup!

Taehyun🐯(Kai): It still hurt…

Hongjong🏴‍☠️: ahhhhh

Beomgyu🐻: You two stay at old man Seonghwa house! You are ruining my vibe here!

Taehyun🐯: Like we wanna stay here! No offence to uncle seonghwa, he is noisy at 5am with his vacuuming and as well somone called wooyoung trying to adopt Kai as his next son

Taehyun🐯: We are not coming back! Until beomgyu swear on our hit man bang chair. To take all of the punishment

Seonghwa🌸: What so special about that chair?

Yeonjun🦊: The chair has magical power, if one of us made a promise. We have to oblige or else misfortune will happen

Beomgyu🐻: I’m not swearing on anything!! You can’t make-

Few mins later…

Heuningkai🐧: Wow this family has a magic chair! I want one!!

Seonghwa🌸: NO! I mean maybe another chair Jongho

Heuningkai🐧: I’m not Jongho, I’m San!

Seonghwa🌸: where is jongho?

Heuningkai🐧: Jongho got mad and dropped Kai phone on the sofa. I picked it up to give it back to Kai. I have been watching this whole thing all this time

Soobin🍞: Finally got beomgyu to sit on that chair and making him say it

Taehyun🐯: Okay, we are coming home! Kai let’s go

Taehyun🐯: Kai?

Heuningkai🐧: Taehyunnnn! Save me, some two grown man is trying to hug me and keep on saying cuddle lock

Taehyun🐯: We will be back later after I save Kai

Soobin🍞: Thank you Seonghwa!

Hongjong🏴‍☠️: where’s my thanks? I have been helping

Soobin🍞: You still haven’t left ah ha ha

Seonghwa🌸: Hongjong you literally texting ooo and ahhhh. They did it on their own!

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wanderingchocolateeclair · 3 months

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BNHA AU Masterlist

Updated!! 2024 version!!!!

Current AU Count: 75 (the ones on this list)

I will try my best to link any info posts and update this when I can! Please Feel free to send in asks about my aus!

Gods au

Fallen Deities au (needs to be updated, has changed)

Fantasy au (here)

Neon Souls au (couldn't find the lore post, so have this instead)

Pirate au (no lore post yet, but here's the fic link)

Corrupt Horrors au (again, lore post has been eaten, have this)

Masquerade au (one of my more recent favourites)

Villain au (here)

Regal au (edgejeanist designs) (ectoloader designs)

Circus of Death au (here)

Space Rangers au (here)

Radioactive au

Broken Dollhouse au (here)

A Little Mermaid au (no lore post yet)

Forest Keepers au

College au

Supernatural Beings au

Roleswap au (snippet)

Mafia au

Siren au (again, no lore post so have mermay post instead)

Ghost au

Game over au

Peaceful au

Commission Kids au

Actor au

Trapped au (no lore post yet)

Heist au

Haunted au

Spy au

Secret Identity au

Single Parent/Teacher au

Royal Bodyguard au

Personality swap au

Fusions au (here)

Greatest Showman au

Revenge au

Maintenance au (NEW)

Secret Fairground au (NEW)

Jar au

Childhood Friends au (each ship has its own)

Denial au

Grief au

Pirates/Mermaids au

Deep sea Creatures au

Fish au

Dance au

Pilots au

Airport au

Hospital au

Olympic au

Winter olympic au (they are only slightly different)

Superhero/Bartender au

LoTR/Hobbit au

Orchestra au

Racing au

Celestial Bodies au

Assassins au

Teeny Beans!! au

Real Nightmares au

Immortal/Reincarnation au

Space Time Reality au

Wolf!Tsu au

Fox!Shinya au

Shifter au

Modern Devil au (NEW)

Reforged Scraps au (NEW)

New Unnamed Fantasy au (NEW)

Eldritch Forest au (NEW)

Time Travel Dr-who-based au (NEW)

Tangled au (edgejeanist)

Cinderella au (edgejeanist)

Aladdin au (mirukyubami)

Beauty and the Beast au (ectoloader)

AU's made with the lovely @laughteronsilverwings:

Interdimensional Therapy au

Ass^2sins au

#eclair's aus #bnha #edgejeanist #ectoloader #mirukyubami #erasermic #tagging so i can find this properly as all these aus include all of them #please do feel free to ask about them!#my aus are my pride and joy and i put a lot of work and care into each world #i will try to keep this one up to date this time ahah..#but yeah!#happy 2024!#here are my aus :D #love you all <3

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pagesfromthevoid · 2 years

Text

False God | m.m. | 31

Matt Murdock x Avenger!reader

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: Violence. Language. Death.

Author’s Note: We are in the HOME STRETCH NOW!

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me! | Buy me a coffee?

“Did you really think you could just sneak in here?”

The boot between her shoulder blades pressed down further, and she ground her teeth to keep from crying out. She didn’t recognize the voice immediately, instead focusing on the ache in her spin.

“Kind of,” she managed to retort, reaching back to grab their ankle and send an electric shock through their leg.

Her assailant stumbled back, cursing angrily as she rolled onto her back and sat up. She rolled her neck, cracking it before finally looking at the man that attacked. Her brow furrowed as she pushed herself off the ground, looking over what was clearly Matt’s suit, dawned on someone else. She poked into his head, pushing a false image before him as her actual self slipped behind him. She needed that mask off; she needed to know who this guy was.

“I feel like that suit doesn’t belong to you,” she commented, putting her fists in the air. “Nobody likes a copycat, you know?”

The imposter just shook his head, grinning at her wickedly. “Do you always talk this much when you’re in a fight?”

“Only when I’m trying to distract people.”

Just as he cocked his head to question her, she yanked the mask off his face and threw it to the side. The scene returned to normal, and he turned to face her with rage in his eyes. She cocked her head to the side, looking him up and down for a moment. The realization struck, and she stepped back into the wall of the stairwell.

“I know you,” she finally realized, pointing at him. “We’ve met. You were –”

“Assigned to keep you under house arrest,” he finished, grinning at her from the top of the stairwell. “I volunteered to do that, you know. Who wouldn’t want to be that close to an Avenger? A real superhero?”

She didn’t know his name; she never bothered to learn any of the agents names, aside from Jimmy’s. But she did recognize him. She knew who he was, because he was there the day Matt walked her home from therapy the first time. He was always at the door, keeping track of where she went and how long she was gone. Something about that shot off warning bells in her head as she stared at him.

“You don’t even know my name, do you?” He asked, shaking his head. “You didn’t even bother to ask. You didn’t care.”

“I was more concerned with not getting murdered by Fisk and Crown. You know, since my therapist was a Nazi sympathasizer and all,” she countered, taking a moment to consider her next move. She pressed into his mind once more, trying to pull anything useful out. “But I know your name. C’mon, Dex. You think I’m that big of an asshole?” Dex narrowed his eyes at her, cocking his head to the side as she continued to speak. “What happened between being a glorified babysitter and becoming a serial killer, then?” She asked, side stepping towards the next set of stairs down.

“I realized I had far more potential than being a forgotten FBI agent.” He jumped down, landing in front of her as she tried to make a run for it. “It’ll be a tragedy when the news reports that an Avenger was killed by her former partner, huh?”

“The real tragedy is that you look better in that suit than he ever did,” she commented idly, pressed against the wall. “Though, the locals will know that Daredevil doesn’t kill. They’ll know it wasn’t really him.”

Dex, thrown off by her comment about the suit, looked confused for just long enough that she was able to kick him in the chest and down the stairwell. She took advantage of his anger and haze to mask herself in the stairwell, keeping her from his sight. Then she booked it back up the stairs towards Fisk’s hotel room.

It didn’t take long for Dex to be hot on her tail, but he couldn’t see her; couldn’t pinpoint where she was as she stopped, letting him pass her on the stairwell. She watched as he took off in front of her –but she knew her chances of getting to Fisk were slim now that Dex knew she was there and after him. She called it then, shaking her head as she slipped out the next door and into the hallway of the hotel.

“Freeze! FBI!”

She slid to a stop, staring at the agents that were aiming their guns at her. The scene faltered, and she was gone from their sight as she turned on her heels and returned to the stairs. The agents could be heard yelling for back up as she skipped two or three steps at a time, running down them. So much for getting in and out undetected; maybe she was in over her head when she was alone. Sirens could be heard as she slipped out the second floor door, running down the hallway towards the nearest window. Just as she was about to reach it, however, a hotel room opened and an arm reached out and snagged her, pulling her inside. She yanked away, about to throw a punch, when the door slammed behind her.

“Hey, it’s me! It’s Jimmy!”

Her fist dropped as her eyes widened. “Woo! What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I’m working –”

“For Fisk? You’re working for Fisk –”

“What? No, I’m undercover for SHIELD,” Jimmy interrupted, looking through the peephole of the door. “Fury reached out; said they needed an inside guy. Mentioned you were getting yourself into trouble, and Fisk was seemingly up to something in New York again.”

She stared at him for a long time, before she sat down on the hotel bed. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you, Jimmy. I thought I was dead there for a second. Agent Poindexter –”

“Yeah, I know,” Jimmy sighed, shaking his head as he sat down beside her. “He always gave me the creeps; I think being scapegoated finally pushed him over the edge.” He stood again, moving to the window now. “We gotta get you outta here. There’s no one out there, and there’s a dumpster down below. If you land right, you should be able to break your fall.”

“I just love jumping into dumpsters.”

“You were planning on jumping out a window without anything before I caught you,” he reminded her. He looked over his computer screen, which sat on the desk against the wall. An alert was flashing over the screen. “You need to get to the Clinton Church. I think Dex is headed there now –your friend Karen has gotten herself into more trouble than you have lately.”

“What’s going on?” She asked, frowning deeply.

“Not sure; but Daredevil was spotted heading there and she’s been a target for a couple days now.”

“Matt needs to know,” she groaned, realizing she would need to find him next. Jimmy gave her a confused look, frowning as well. “Matt’s alive, by the way.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“No time to explain. Find me later, I’ll fill you in.”

Without another word, she dropped out of the hotel room window and into the dumpster. A look of disgust plastered over her face as she climbed out, huffing in anger. Jimmy simply stared out the window, brow furrowed.

*****

Matt had been in the hotel as well, having gone to wait for Fisk to return from his meeting. However, when he overheard two agents whispering about Karen’s location –then yelling that an Avenger was trying to escape the building –Matt realized something far worse was going on. With Karen in danger from Poindexter, and his ex-girlfriend seemingly inserting herself into his mission, Matt needed to get everything sorted out before someone died. Without hesitating, and knowing she could take care of herself, Matt chose to get to the church to save Karen.

He needed to start trusting her to know how to handle things. She was a superhero, after all. An Avenger. There was no reason he needed to worry that he was endangering her when she was clearly doing it all on her own, anyway.

However, when he arrived at the church, it was chaotic. He could smell blood, and there was screaming and sobbing as Poindexter prowled through the pews. Karen was hiding, Matt could hear her stifling her sobs, and trying to lead people out the side doors without Dex noticing. As Matt prepared to enter the room, though, she suddenly jumped from the second floor of the church, tackling Dex to the ground. Matt rushed in next, pushing Karen and the others out the doors and to safety as the Avenger grappled with Dex in the walkway.

The faux Daredevil threw her to the ground, landing a kick into her ribs and she groaned. But it didn’t stop her from grabbing him by the ankle like earlier, and sending another volt through his body. This one was stronger, stunning him for just a moment. Matt, having gotten everyone out of the room, grabbed the nearest item –a bible –and threw it at Dex, who hit the floor from the impact. She rolled onto her side, pushing herself up, but Dex was back on his feet, having moved to grab Matt by the neck and flip him into a pew. Dex moved to her next, grabbing her by the hair to yank her up.

“I can’t believe I thought you were a hero,” he sneered at her, dragging her through the walkway. “You’re just a menace; just like Fisk said.”

“Oh yeah,” she managed to spit out at him. “I’m the menace –not the man who just killed a fucking priest.”

“You act like I was trying to kill him,” Dex snapped at her, throwing her to the side now.

“Hey!”

She looked up at Karen, who stood in the front of the entrance, shaking. Dex’s attention turned to the reporter, who took off into the church. Dex ran after her.

“Karen, what the fuck,” she yelled after the blonde, shoving herself off the ground. Matt was recovering, trying to sit up as she came over, offering him a hand. “Come on, Karen’s going to get herself killed if we’re not quick.”

He didn’t argue as he took her hand, pulling himself up. They both took off after Dex and Karen, who found themselves on the second floor of the church now. Matt pressed a finger to his lips, motioning for her to be quiet as he listened for Karen’s heartbeat. She projected into his mind, opening a line of communication.

“I’ll take down Poindexter; you need to get Karen out of here.”

“Why were you at the hotel?” He countered, looking around the corner. Dex was simply standing there, looking around.

“How did you know I was there?”

“Because I was also there.”

“Stupid minds think alike, apparently.”

Matt turned to look back at her, frowning deeply as he realized she had been there for Fisk as well. Even after all he had put her through, she went into the lion’s den willingly to stop his enemy for him.

Matt didn’t deserve her. Not at all.

“I’m going to take down Dex,” she reiterated, slowly masking herself from the scene. Karen couldn’t see her, but Matt could hear her still. “He can’t see you or Karen. Get her out of here.”

Matt glanced over his shoulder, as if looking at her, before he nodded. She expected more of an argument, but instead, he slinked through the storage containers of the crawl space towards Karen. With Matt going after Karen, she slipped around the back way of the space. Dex was slowly making his way through the area, close to the edge, but he couldn’t find any of them. His frustration was palpable as she snuck up behind him, raising her fists up and lighting up her tasers as she pressed them against the base of his throat.

Dex screamed out, grabbing at her and breaking the illusion she held. But she had him pinned, with the electricity that coursed through. But just as she moved to throw him to the ground, he swung back at her, hitting her in the eye. Her grip on him fell, and he stood there regaining his composure. It was then that Karen appeared, holding a shorter wooden pillar, and shoved him over the edge of the crawl space.

He landed with an unceremonious thud as Matt dropped to the ground beside her. She was nursing her black eye, and probable broken ribs, but she was otherwise fine. Karen sat beside her, looking her over as well.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, shaking her head. “Where’s Poindexter?”

Matt hesitated before standing, peering over the edge of the space. But Dex was gone. He shook his head, yanking the mask off his face. “Gone.”

“Gone as in dead or gone as in left?”

“Left.”

“That’s fine too,” she sighed, slowly pushing herself off the ground. “Karen, we need to get you outta here.”

“The building is surrounded by police and the FBI,” Matt pointed out.

“I can literally hide her in plain sight,” she reminded him, cracking her fingers carefully. “Get her out, then you and I go after Poindexter. Easy enough.”

“I’m not going to leave either of you,” Karen insisted, but she was hushed almost immediately by the Avenger.

“No, you’re not allowed to risk your life anymore, Miss I told Fisk I killed his only friend. You need to get out of here.”

Suddenly, her name was called over an intercom, then Matt’s and Karen’s. “Come out with your hands up.”

She looked at Matt, who took a breath. “Can you actually get Karen out of here safely?”

“I can do a lot of things,” she promised. Suddenly, Karen disappeared from view –her heartbeat missing, her smell. Everything was gone. “Go out the back door –the less people I have to hide you from the better. But as long as you do not touch anyone, I can keep you masked in everyone’s thoughts.

Karen hesitated then nodded, promising she would find help. Then she was gone. Police were pounding on the doors now, searching for the three of them.

“Come with me,” Maggie suddenly whispered, appearing in a doorway. “You need to be quick.”

She glanced at Matt, who looked tense, but nodded as they followed her through the door. A single thought slipped into Matt’s mind, from her.

“I like this outfit way better.”

———

Taglist (CLOSED): @thebisexual-disaster @chims-kookies @ferxaniti @heybabyshae @notalxx @gothicxbarbie @dark-night-sky-99 @blacxk-moony @celestialissues @pinkybee926 @bex-tk1 @jasontoddthezombie @killthebutt4fly @softieekayy @tremendoushearttaco @cbloodmarch @ammiddlechild @venusriver @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @yikes-buddy @buckyspetal @baconlover001 @flimsysquid @reh-llik @messagesinthesky @dreamypanda @happyfern2 @svft-cas @andiforgetaboutyoulongenoughh @deafeningnightcollection-things @milf-murdock

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #daredevil x reader

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spicler-man · 2 years

Text

post got too long :( here’s part 2 of spidey recs, featuring fics that dont fit in categories

masterlist here

In the Event of my Untimely Demise by OnceUponaFangirl

Summary: “I’ve been rewriting my will. I hadn’t updated it since my husband passed. And in the event of my untimely demise, I’d like to leave legal guardianship of Peter to you.”

How Tony Stark and Pepper Potts became legal guardians to Peter Parker. (No MCD)

Delicate by Bean_reads_fanfic for Phoenix_Inferno

It starts here: Peter, in his Spider-Man suit minus the mask, caught deer-in-the-headlights-style in front of a person he’s never met before in the kitchen of his and May’s apartment.

“You’re, uh, what’s-his-name –” The guy coughs a bit, swallowing. He points at Peter, his voice getting higher as he goes: “P – uh – Peter, right? You’re – you’re Spider-man?!” ... One unfortunate encounter starts a chain of frustrating events; in the process of which, Peter's insecurities are examined. Including but not limited to: his worries that Tony cares about Spider-Man more than Peter Parker.

my favorite superhero by iron_spider

“Congratulations,” he says. “Today marks the first day in history that you weren’t a complete dumbass.”

“Thank you, thank you very much,” Hammer says, bending over in a deep bow, hands whipping with a flourish. “I thought about every variable, every avenue, now we just need Miss Pepper Wifey to answer my calls and—”

Tony experiences a flash of anger at that, and then a high pitched tone starts going off in his ears, and now he feels like a dumbass.

Peter. Was with Pepper.

Peter.

Like a shining light in the darkness and someone Hammer has clearly not paid attention to despite all his fucking planning, because he would have mentioned it amongst all the other bragging. Spider-Man isn’t an official Avenger yet to the world, just among the group. And Peter would never think Tony is slacking. Because Peter just doesn’t think that way.

{The Supersoldiers (A Prequel)} by Chaeyoung26090 for Meida_123

Requested by Meida_123: I love this fic so much and have read like 5 times 😂 it is amazing! Could you do like a prequel for this but where Peter meets Nick Fury and is all badass and Fury is like really impressed and trues to recruit/adopt him? Please?? 🥺☺️🥺☺️

********** "Stark," Fury said cooly, "Who is this?"

"Oh yeah, Fury, meet Peter Parker, my intern, Peter, meet Nick Fury, Director of Shield," Tony said, vaguely motioning with his hands.

"Parker," Fury nodded towards the teen.

"Captain Blackbeard," Peter greeted back distractedly, fiddling with his lip ring. Tony choked on the water he was sipping. Fury's eye twitched.

5 Times Peter Pretended To Be Tougher Than He Was by grilledcheesing

... and one time he couldn't.

Or, Peter really, really wants to seem like he's got his Shit On Lock, and tells enough white lies to drive Tony up a damn wall.

First Meetings by Gigichiz

a mini-series of people meeting Peter for the first time and automatically assuming he's Tony's secret son

The Sitcom Supreme by ambivalentangst, makifa

Tony Stark, age thirty-two, is the former heir to Stark Industries, current handyman and part-time landlord, and the asshole who posted the Craigslist ad.

Peter Parker, age nineteen, is a very unlucky student at NYU and needs a place to live fast.

Doctor Stephen Strange, age thirty, is a neurosurgeon on an extended break looking to downsize while he attends physical therapy.

None of them know each other, but they’re about to because, via a sketchy networking app and likely some higher power, the three of them end up bunking together. This is how it goes.

Or, a supreme family roommate au, told in drabbles, that chronicles the life of a poor college student learning how weird rich people are and said rich people discovering their parenting potential.

Pupper Parker by Bean_reads_fanfic for Sally0

Bruce lifts the puppy fully from its hiding place, setting its stubby tail to wagging and its eyes to shining. He smiles at it, then raises his eyebrows at his friend. “You’re gonna have to expand on that… Did you get him for someone? Is he a gift for Peter?”

The dog yips again, ears perking at the name.

Coughing a laugh that sounds hysterical, Tony says, “Okay- okay, don’t call the loony bin on me until I’ve explained, but… that dog? It is Peter.”

it sinks its roots into the cracks (until the structure's coming loose) by madasthesea

“I can’t believe Tony Stark is gonna have a kid.”

The worst part is that Peter’s first thought is, He already has one, followed by the sinking realization that that isn’t quite true.

Something here will eventually have to explode by madasthesea

Prompt: Where Peter takes a flight * who knows what for * after an argument with Tony, and then the plane collapses. :o just angsty irondad with happy ending please(?

*Edits have been made since posted on Tumblr

You're Always Iron Man by madasthesea

After defeating all the Hammer Drones, Tony takes a moment to talk to a little kid in an Iron Man helmet.

panic attack at the compound by OnlyForward

tony stark knew how to be many things. he knew how to put up a front, become the cold, heartless bastard people thought he was. He knew how to smile and act in front of the media. he knew how to be a superhero, how to be bold, how to be chivalrous, how to be iron man in the face of danger.

what he didn’t know was how to be a person. not anymore. he’d given up on it all, given up on trust. putting it bluntly, tony stark had given up on steve rogers.

and to tell you the truth, tony never told peter to punch steve rogers in the face.

but he sure as hell did enjoy watching it.

You Know What They Say by patrochilles_trash

The moment Mr. Harrington stepped further into the classroom, revealing the figure standing behind him, Peter was pretty sure that he had stepped into an alternate reality. That, or someone was playing a nasty joke on him.

The person standing directly behind his teacher, waving cheerfully at the decathlon team, was dressed in a replica of the second gen Spiderman suit. It was about as close as one could get from referencing pictures and videos, and they guy was a similar enough build that Peter could see how people would be fooled.

A frightening thought struck him that he might be fooled too if he wasn’t actually Spiderman.

Harrington does his best, but Peter really isn't a fan of impersonators.

Trust (sometimes takes a while to realise) by LittleMissAgrafina

“You should know by now that only Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy hand me things, Birdbrain."Hearing those words, every head in the room whipped around to face Tony, and he looked back at them in bewilderment. "What? Why are you all looking at me like I kicked a puppy and then denied that I did?" Natasha stared at him. "Peter hands you things all the time. It's not just Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy."Tony's expression became even more bewildered if that was possible. "What? No I don't. I'm pretty sure I would have noticed."---"5 times someone noticed Peter handing something to Tony + 1 time that Tony noticed"Comfortember Day 15. Scars + 25. Mental Health

What Makes A Hero by patrochilles_trash

Standing in front of Mrs. Davis, handing over a stick of plastic and circuitry, he wondered how Tony even talked him into making the video in the first place.

“Thank you, Mr. Parker. You may return to your seat,” she said with a smile.

Peter nodded in response and turned to walk back to his desk, ignoring the feeling that he was walking to his death sentence.

He fought down wave after wave of nausea as she plugged the flash drive into her computer and scrolled through the files until she found the one that he titled ‘Hero Project.’ Neither Ned nor MJ even knew what he had done for his project. He had refused to tell them out of fear that he would lose his nerve.

Mrs. Davis casted her screen to the projector in front of the board and pressed the play button.

There was no going back.

The identity reveal in the least likely format I have ever written. This might be crack? Sort of? Idk.

5 times Midtown School of Science and Technology interrupts Tony's day + 1 time he interrupts theirs by Grace_d

“Boss, you have an incoming call from Midtown High.” FRIDAY announces.

“I– WHAT?” Tony asks incredulously, as he carefully balances the enormous steel beam as he moves upwards. “I’m kinda busy, FRI!”

“Phone records indicate they’ve tried to call May twice already.”

“Fine.” Tony grits his teeth and swings the beam onto his shoulder. He can multitask. Handle Peter’s school, don’t let the building collapse.

The Phone! (The Phone Is Ringing) by Eccentric_Grace

(5 times Peter called Tony at a random time, and 1 time Tony called him.)

“I can ignore that,” Tony said pointedly, raising his eyebrows. “It’s probably nothing.”

It buzzed again.

“Seriously, not a problem for me. I ignore text messages anyways. Just ask that one CEO.”

It buzzed a THIRD time, and then started ringing, a rock cover of the Itsy Bitsy Spider song started playing from Tony’s pocket. People in the restaurant turn to look at their table with confusion and annoyance.

Pepper folded her arms. The corner of her mouth quirked up with hidden amusement. “That’s the kid, isn’t it?“

The Kidnapping by PeterStark

Peter frowned and blinked his eyes open. Everything was bright, and dark. Huh, maybe this is what Han had felt like. Everything was a big dark blur and a big bright blur all at once. He closed his eyes, his head felt fuzzy and his senses were on overload. He heard someone's hand come toward him, then pain in his jaw as a hit landed. "Ouch...no need to get violent, I just want five more minutes."

"Smartass, just like your fucking father. Get up, boy."

"Just like my what?" Peter asked, opening his eyes again. There were two bulky men in the small, cement room with one bright light. Classic kidnapping. Peter was starting to wonder if their was a villian handbook. He moved his arms, finding them tied to the chair, not even behind his back, and only by ropes...these guys were idiots. He was going to call them Thug 1 and Thug 2.

radioactive by dragonbagel

“For the love of—I just need some information, okay? Give it to me, and you and your little friends are free to leave.”

Somehow, Peter doesn’t think it’s going to be that easy.

“Okay, what do you wanna know? We’re learning about redox reactions in chemistry, if you’re interested.” Oops, there goes his mouth again. “We also learned about psychopaths last month in psych class—you know, like people who kidnap kids? I can give you a refresher if you want.”

or: peter, mj and flash are kidnapped. peter wants his life to be less cursed, mj wants to keep her idiot boyfriend alive, and flash just wants to know what the hell is going on

Oh, I Forgot To Mention by TChallaGotBac

Peter gets kidnapped, but it's a little more realistic than others i've read (meaning he escapes very easily). Also he is very sassy.

5 times Tony and Pepper fought to be Peter's favorite by talkaboutartassholes

...and the 1 time they learned to share

Iron Dad Week 2019 by mainstreamelectricalparade

My contribution to Iron Dad Week on Tumblr!

Geniuses and Genius Bars by elephreak

Tony was giving a speech to the Midtown School of Science and Technology. Naturally Peter's excited, until he isn't, and Tony finally meets Flash Thompson.

A Shrunken Spider by An_Odd_Idea for IamStillHere

A fight with a magic-wielding foe leaves Peter shrunken and vulnerable. Luckily, Tony is there to take care of him until the spell wears off.

It's Only Time by madeitsimple

Tony is terrible at guessing ages. The kid looks to be about three, maybe four. “Do you know who I am?”

The boy squinches up his face, searching his memory. “You’re Mr. Stark!”

“That’s right,” Tony says, still totally amazed. “Hi, Peter.”

He holds out his hand again. This time, Peter takes it.

5 Times Peter Accidentally Took Something Of Tony’s To School by TheSecretUchiha

...and one time he didn't.

it'll be over (and I'll still be asking when) by JBS_Forever

They are fighting a one-story tall mechanical robot in the middle of Brooklyn when Peter swings over its head and says, “You guys ever see The Incredibles?”

It starts like this.

spider-man is dead by bstarship

“Hey, Mister Stark,” Peter said, ducking back into the bathroom. “What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Tony repeated. “What’s up?”

Yeah, Peter thought, I’m dead.

“Would you like to enlighten me, then?” asked his mentor. “Care to tell me what is up? Because, as far as I know, you’re supposed to be dead. As far as I know, the entire city has stopped functioning because you literally died.”

Peter grimaced and leaned his head back against the wall. “Uh—surprise?”

One morning, Peter wakes up to find that he's gone viral. And he’s dead.

Alexa? Play Lose Yourself By Eminem by losingmymindtonight

“Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry, Mister Stark. I thought that maybe the kids were playing a prank. I’m Rebecca Ascot from Midtown School of Science and Technology. You’re listed as Peter Parker’s secondary emergency contact, and he asked us to call you instead of his aunt, since she’s on shift.” He stood abruptly, carefully slipping around Morgan’s newest Lego skyscraper and heading down the hall, to the guest room they’d appropriated as Pepper’s office. “Is he alright?” “He is, but I do need someone to come pick him up. See, we’re having a blood drive, for the Red Cross, and-” Tony didn’t even try to hide his laughter. “He tried to donate, and he passed out, didn’t he?” “Uh, yes. How did you-” “This happens a lot, actually.” -- Or, 5 Times Peter Passes Out Because Of Needles.

All's Well That Ends Well (To End Up With You) by losingmymindtonight

And, yes, this wasn’t the first time that he’d seen Peter since he’d come back, but it was... it was different now. This wasn’t a memory, it wasn’t clutching frantically at the cool metal of the Iron Spider suit as death spilled out around them. It certainly wasn’t covered by an end-of-life blur, wasn’t permeated by the frustration of trying to say goodbye without words. No, this was just... this was just Peter: hair messy, wrapped in an oversized Midtown sweatshirt, warm and breathing and solid. Not dust, not ash, not bloodied and afraid. Just Peter. His Peter. -- Or, the irondad hospital reunion scene we deserved.

Blurred Words by Serpent_Rose97

Peters had enough of this world and this life. A goodbye text and the wrong number may be Just what he needs to survive.

Notes: pay attention to tags with this one, stay safe!!

dead in there, you're dead in there by iron_spider

“Peter, you’ve been acting insane for the past however many days and it’s giving me an ulcer, what’s going on, what did I do? Tell me. Tell me and I’ll fix it.”

Peter is still stalking around, and Friday is listing off his injuries, from a concussion to broken ribs to a sprained ankle, and Tony feels sick looking at it all.

“You’ll fix it,” Peter says, glancing over at him with pure disdain, the look bookended by matching explosions somewhere behind them. “Yeah it’s something you can’t fix, if it happens, nope, can’t fix it, it would just—but you’re just saying—”

Tony starts forward towards him. “Pete, explain to me what’s happening, please.”

“The protocol, the protocol,” Peter insists, waving his hands through the air.

Tony shakes his head. “The protocol?”

“The Avalon Protocol, Tony,” Peter spits out, with venom.

peter parker's work-life-balance: how to manage school, an internship, and being a superhero by sapphirestark

(no summary)

When In Doubt, Blame Spider-Man by ambivalentangst

Hi! Sorry about the toaster—Spidey emergency. Pinky promise I’ll get you a new one. On that note, how much pull do you have in New York’s group homes? Asking for a friend.

In the way of a signature, the kid had put a smiley face with poorly sketched webbing covering it. Tony thought about calling to ask, but frankly, he’d been up for the better part of forty-eight hours. He cared more about sleep than what the hell Peter had been up to that required the thieving of kitchen appliances.

Or, Peter finds a ten-year-old friend out in the cold near his group home and decides to take action.

Peter Parker & Stark Industries by Angeeelatin

(no summary)

The Humbling River by mysterycyclone

Peter’s been distant lately. Edgy. Angry. On his best days, he moves through his life in a vague daze, skipping meals and sleeping. On his worst, he’s hit with fits of anger that border on unthinking rage.

Monday afternoon, he breaks Flash Thompson’s hand.

Wednesday evening, he goes missing.

That night, the first headless corpse appears in Queens.

Kindness Isn’t Dead (Because of You) by HappyJuicyfruit

Tony narrowed his eyes, “what did Peter make you to help me with?”

“Peter created me to help you with your PTSD!” The voice said, far too cheerfully.

Tony swallowed, “what’s your name? Did Peter give you a name?”

“Yes,” the voice said happily. “I am here to help you get through the world without Peter, and my name's a reminder of that! It’s Kindness Isn’t Dead. Or, for short,-”

“Kid.”

K.I.D. by blondsak

“Hi K.I.D. Glad you're awake. Do you know your primary objective?”

“To always look for ways to remind Mister Stark - that’s you! - that Kindness Isn’t Dead.”

“That’s right, K.I.D. Good job.”

Before, After, and Beyond by mainstreamelectricalparade

The thing was, Peter always rolled his eyes and brushed it off whenever Ned or MJ or May would joke that Mr. Stark kind of acted like a dad around him.

That was the thing.

But that was before.

---

Or, Peter wonders where he belongs in Tony's life now that everything is so different. Requested by an anon on Tumblr.

i promise you, kid, you're safe now by bstarship

Tony doesn’t waste another minute as he grabs a can of Coke, a bag of Funyuns, and heads up to the counter with disgust evident in his features. Little words are said until he lays down a few dollar bills and starts toward the door.

The bearded-man catches him with a cold smile. “Have a good night, you sick son of a bitch,” he says, and Tony leaves without sparing a glance.

He doesn’t bother dwelling on what the man said as he fumbles for his car keys. With the bag of Funyuns between his teeth and the can of Coke stuffed beneath his arm, he digs around each pocket—from his pants to his jacket—to find the key fob. An odd sound meets his ear before he can hit the unlock button.

Is something... crying?

Tony stumbles upon a four-year-old kid named Peter Parker on a late-night drive upstate.

Can't tell me there's no point in trying by Anonymous

He shakes his head vehemently, trying to clear it and be able to think logically. He wants so badly that Tony is actually here, but there isn’t any way for that to be true, unless.. Peter gasps, memories piercing through the fog in his head. Unless Wanda managed to do what they set out to do. And that would mean that It’s no weird fever dream. Peter’s hand clench up in Tony’s shirt, pulling him down so Peter can meet him in the middle and hug him.

Alternatively: Peter travels back in time, get's a concussion and Tony takes care of him, even though in his mind, Peter has been blipped for three years.

Fever by rosesandribbons

Peter woke up even though his body still felt exhausted. His eyes were begging him to shut back down and go to sleep, but he wasn’t even sure if he would be able to.

He blindly reached for his phone on his nightstand and picked it up, turning on the screen and sending a garble of letters to Mr. Stark to notify him that he was awake.

FebuWhump Day Eight: Fever

Behind a Smile by SkylerWrites (Maanling)

Peter Parker's life was at a point where he was content. He could manage his dysphoria and was on the way to relieve a whole lot of it. Spider-man had not gotten a major injury in two months. Aunt May and him were in an agreement on Spider-man. He had food, he had a roof above his head and he was doing alright. No one's life was perfect, but the good and the bad things balanced out.

Until they did not.

It all started when May was placed into quarantine. Whooping Cough, she said. A patient had coughed on her during her triage, it was just a precaution. Completely treatable, he knew. But Aunt May had lied. Or she didn't know.

Follow Peter while he tries to survive and keep up the act. Follow the Staff of Stark Industries while they navigate dealing with the Stark's unexpected announcements and new initiatives. Learn how Stark Industries is a community, the avengers, employees and friends.

{TAGS UPDATED IF I THINK OF OTHER ONES}

The Press by FictionalWorldsAreExquisite

Tony's been dealing with the press for his whole life and he doesn't pay much attention to it anymore, but then he spots an article that claims that Tony has hurt Peter. He finds other, similar articles and he feels the need to apologise for his apparent actions or inactions.

Peter doesn't agree.

Blatant Favoritism by michellejones_stacy

The bots were little shits who were looking for an excuse to make Tony feel bad for being mean to them, simple as that.

Tony wasn't even that mean to them! Was he rude? Yes. Was he rude on purpose, though? Also yes. But was he rude to them all of the time?

For the sake of Tony's conscience, he was not going to be answering that question.

Dum-E and U like Peter more than they like Tony, and, apparently, so does everyone else.

Baby Blues by The_Mishamigo

When Peter’s fake baby won’t stop crying in the Parker’s apartment, May encourages him to take it to the Stark’s tower. Tony Stark is determined to be the best damn grandpa in the world.

reservations by OnlyForward

may parker had had her reservations about tony stark ever since he walked into their life. but when peter gets stabbed whilst out as spiderman on patrol, she finally sees how much the billionaire cares for her nephew.

aka the story of how may parker learns to trust tony stark

unpaid intern by OnlyForward

when peter starts singing ‘unpaid intern’ by bo burnham in the kitchen, tony is horrified as he thinks peter is genuinely complaining about being an unpaid intern and doesn’t realise that it’s all, in fact, just a misunderstanding.

Queer as in F*ck You by etrelalune

All of Steve and Bucky’s friends are both the smartest people in the world, and the most oblivious. None of them seem to know that Steve and Bucky are together, or who Steve Rogers really is. The guys think it’s hysterical.

After the 2016 election, Steve is asked to do an interview about the new (and horrible) President Elect. Chaos ensues.

Featuring shamelessly and aggressively queer Steve and Bucky, Natalia being the smartest avenger, dumb Fox News interviewers, and Clint being tired of everyone’s shit.

Burying Grounds by blondsak

As he looks between the two graves, Tony’s mind grasps at the one thing he knows beyond all doubt.

The man was right. Tony was going to hell.

Indeed, he’s already there.

This Christmas Will Be (A Very Special Christmas For Me) by Wise_writer_girl

"You know, I'm just going to be by myself on Christmas 'cuz May will be working until 11. It's fine, though. I'm used to it. Don't worry, Mr. Stark." Peter assured him.

The boy was still tinkering away like he hadn't dropped a depressing bombshell in the middle of lab day.

And that’s how Tony Stark found himself there, holding a present and a bottle of wine in his hands and standing outside Peter’s home like a fucking coward for the past 45 minutes, the clock still ticking mockingly. Merry fucking Christmas to him.

Five Times Tony Stark Got to be a Normal Dad by CaptainStarSong

... and one time Peter acts like a normal son.

Peter Parker hasn't had a father figure in his life since the untimely death of his Uncle Ben. Tony Stark never gets to act like a normal person, on account of him being a genius, billionaire, and former playboy philanthropist. But, for Peter, he's willing to do anything, especially if he gets to be the kid's surrogate dad.

not like megatron by iron_spider

“Hi! This is Peter Parker, I can’t get to the phone right now, so leave a message and I’ll call you back later! Hopefully not too much later, but don’t get your hopes up!”

Tony knows that message by heart. He’s heard it hundreds of times, in a greyer world, and it sends shivers down his spine as he climbs into the car.

He doesn’t think about that place. That half-world. No way, that’s done, that’s over, that’s history.

“Hey, kid, don’t you know it’s bad etiquette to go and disappear on your birthday? Not allowed, really, really bad vibes from the universe. What’s going on with your suit? I wasn’t watching. Nope. Just got an alert. What’s going on? Uh, call me back.” He clears his throat and hangs up like a moron, driving out into the street.

Not Completely the Worst by mainstreamelectricalparade

Peter's spidey-sense had been going off all day. If he had to stay at school for literally another minute longer, he was probably going to go insane.

And of course, there was one person at school whose single goal in life seemed to be ensuring that that happened.

“Yo, Penis! Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Flash called after Peter as he took the steps three at a time in his attempt to make a quick getaway.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut in exasperation and kept walking. Maybe if he ignored the problem, it would go away.

Because that had always worked so well for him, in the past.

---

Or, the one where Peter has a bad feeling, and Flash is in the wrong place at the wrong time.

These Four Walls Make a Home by polaroid15

“Mr. Stark?” Peter is quiet. “Yeah kiddo?” “Is this- is this all for me?”

----

Or, the one where Tony tells Peter in a not-so-subtle way that he's in it for the long haul. A personalized room at the compound is really just a bonus.

after the war(ehouse) by turtle_bean

Peter gasps awake, his heart pounding in his throat and utterly drenched in sweat. He’s vaguely aware of a presence beside him, but he doesn't concentrate on it – he’s a little preoccupied with the fact that he can’t breathe -

"In and out, bud,” someone says, pressing Peter’s hand to his rapidly beating heart. “Just keep breathing in and out.”

Yeah, no shit, Sherlock, Peter is aware of how the respiratory system works.

or, a classic tony-learning-about-The-Building fic.

[sicketember day v. – comfort item]

A Good Reason by baloobird for Malya

Tony doesn’t say anything at first.

He’s just standing in the doorway of his lab, watching in perplexion at what’s before him.

His kid, this person who always does so much good in the world is doing something the older hero would never expect in a million years.

Peter is currently taking money out of his father figure’s wallet.

After All This Time by baloobird

It took Peter longer to die than the others. Tony knows that. It only makes sense that he would take longer to reappear.

But he didn't take this long to disappear.

And Tony is getting impatient, damn it.

Sedated by patrochilles_trash

“What? You surprised? Stark isn’t the only tech genius in the world, you know. The rest of us bottom-feeders gotta find our way around the world somehow,” the blonde one said.

He tried to calm himself down. The man’s words didn’t mean anything. There was the chance that they didn’t know.

“W-what do you want from us?” Flash asked, his voice shaky and dripping in fear.

“Parker here has something that we want, and while I’m sure that he can’t actually give it to us, he can show us how he got it.”

The blood turned to ice in Peter’s veins. They knew. They knew. That was the only thing that could mean. That-

“So, here’s what’s going to happen, Spidey. You’re going to put these cuffs on nice and easy and come with us. We’re going to take a little trip, and when we get there, you’re going to tell us everything you know about the serum they gave you to give you your powers,” the brunette growled, raising the rifle.

Another kidnapping fic and an apology for taking so long.

Mind the tags. No beta folks. All mistakes are my own.

Its Me, Remember? by NanixErka

Doing a favor for Stephen Strange, Tony gets stuck in time

and unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your perspective), there's only one person on earth that can save him

alternate title "Peter learns more about his Irondad than he ever would have known otherwise"

never become by krystalpomme

after a lab day gone wrong, peter travels back in time to 1992. he needs tony's help to get him back to his own time, but can he trust himself to not reveal the truth of their relationship to his 21 year old father figure?

meanwhile tony is fighting his own battles. peter makes him realize his one true fear would never come true.

As Peter's view was obstructed by his sweater paws wiping away his tears, he didn't notice as he walked straight into someone's side as he rounded a busy corner. He removed his hands from his face in horror, "I-I'm so sorry! I wasn't..."

Peter's eyes widen as he took in the man before him. He had thick black hair, thick eyebrows, and smooth skin. His brown eyes were unmistakable and Peter was hit with relief.

It was Mr. Stark.

based on: "congratulations, you won. and all the love you never gave me, i can give to my son. eternal love to my child, we'll forever be one. thanks to you, i know the man that i would never become." - like a river by joyner lucas

make it a good one! by zippe

Tony put the phone to his ear. “Hi I’d like to report a break in—“ “I’m not— I didn’t break in!” Peter exclaimed, waving his hands around madly, “I was fighting some baddies and then got zapped by this electric guy and my bracelet thingy started glowing and then I ended up here in the 80s and it’s so weird but really not that unusual, but I promise I’m not a criminal!” “—and a potential child kidnapping.” “I’m really from the future! 2025!” ~ Or, Tony and his mess of a fairy god spider who can’t seem to keep himself moving correctly along the timeline.

The black pieces by Bergen

Peter moves in. And the Avengers all agree: He's a precious little puppy. Tony gets hurt. And the Avengers all agree: It was Spiderman’s fault.

Spiderman's Secrets by Dawg1515 for turtle_bean

All he wanted was the best for Peter, always, and everyone knew it.

Or: The Avengers invite Spiderman on a mission. Tony is in for a shock.

The Third Option by Uncertainty_Principle

Homecoming A/U.

Ben and May divorced before Peter’s parents died, so when Ben is murdered Peter goes into foster care. It takes just a tiny taste of superpowers for Peter to decide he doesn’t want to put up with his horrible foster father anymore—the streets are infinitely more appealing. All he wants is to be Spider-Man anyway.

So he leaves.

Simple.

Simple, that is, until Iron Man needs Spider-Man’s help. Peter isn’t about to turn down an opportunity to fight alongside Tony Freaking Stark, but he also isn’t going to let his hero know that his recruit is a fifteen-year-old homeless dropout. So they strike a deal. Peter will help Tony. In return, the mask stays on.

And that’s when things get complicated.

Alive and Healing by Watermeloness

“...bank robbery gone wrong in Queens. We’re receiving live footage from the crime site, where a 15 year-old teenager has been severely injured. Witnesses report a young boy getting shot after trying to stop the perpetrators. The last we’ve heard, his state is critical and he’s being rushed to…”

Statistically there are a lot of 15 year-old teenagers in Queens. The city is filled with 15 year-old teenagers that are all brave in their own ways. This doesn’t have to be their teenager.

But Peter is not picking up his phone.

In Between The Strained Moments by inkinmyheartandonthepage

Steve knows he’s made a mistake as soon as he walks into the Tower with Howard and Maria Stark but he’s not sure why.

washington by OnlyForward

peter parker never truly got to see washington dc on his academic decathlon trip, so when tony stark offers him a chance to go back, he jumps at it. what he doesn't know is that their accommodation is the white house and they're staying with the president.

aka tony and peter go on holiday and chaos ensues.

To Be Like You by inkinmyheartandonthepage

It’s been three days since Spiderman was killed in a building fire and Tony finally learns who was behind the mask.

this has been a public service announcement by Nokomis

(no description)

Tony Stark Googled The Thing by mybrotherharry

When Morgan is six months old, Pepper goes back to work and Tony takes over as stay-at-home dad. Discovering the mommyblogosphere is the inevitable next step.

Peter Parker to the Principal’s office please by Grace_d

Principal Morita has always thought Peter Parker was a good kid, a smart kid. If only he could get his head on straight.

Peter's just glad he's not dead, or worse, expelled.

But he can't stop getting detention.

Chapter one features some annoying co parenting and an ill advised robot study buddy. Chapter two features some accidental abstract art Chapter three features an eyeliner pencil Chapter four features a badly placed dance lesson Chapter five and Peter drops the D word Chapter six features Iron Man's disappointment

T for language

No One Knows by LittleMissAgrafina for for_the_night

Peter slid his phone out of his pocket, clicking mindlessly on the pop up on his lockscreen expecting to be taken to one of the crime report lines he'd hacked into.

It wasn't the crime line.

It was a current news headline, written in all caps. Notifications of even more articles and reports with the same headline flooding his phone.

TONY STARK ALIVE.

Spiderman Stands Down (and the consequences of taking him for granted) by the_last_genderbender

Peter had been Spider-Man for over half a decade and if he was being honest, he was done with people's shit.

He had put all his energy and passion into a job that put him in danger every day he did it. So, he was not having it when people started chasing him out with pitchforks.

So he quit.

Maybe that would lead the public into realising their mistakes. But, what he did know, was that he was worth more than how they treated him.

Or: Peter is sick of how New York treats him after so long protecting them (and when he's gone New York realises how much they may have fucked up)

fred the tarantula by hailingstars

“I’m not thrilled about sharing my apartment with a tarantula, but what can I do?” asked Happy, with a note of panic, suggesting his question wasn’t completely hypothetical. “May likes him. She thinks it’s cute Peter wants to have a spider brother.”

“Hap, what?”

“Pete can talk to him,” said Happy, scratching his head. “I walked past his bedroom once and he was up in his web hammock with the spider. They were making clicking noises at each other.”

Peter Parker is a ruthless prankster.

febuwhump day 4: nightmares

My son’s a big fan by ag_virgule

The interviewer looked surprised. “Wow, you really have thought this through!”

“What can I say? My son’s a big fan.” Tony said without thinking.

——————

OR Tony is asked about lightsabers for a documentary on science-fiction and lets it slip that his ‘son’ is a Star Wars fan.

(May is very much alive but is only mentioned in passing. And Tony is not Peter’s bio dad)

There are Worse Outcomes to a Friday Night than Being Forcibly Adopted by a Super-Powered Teenager by LordOfThePoptarts

“I reiterate, fuck your dad! I’m your dad now!” “Peter, bambino,” Tony sat stunned. He pulled Peter in closer to him and gently pressed a kiss to the top of Peter’s head, smiling, when Peter let out a happy hum and wiggled in his grip a bit. “God, kid, you’re too good for me.” “Too bad,” Peter said smugly. “You’re stuck with me now, I’m your dad. I’ve decided.” Tony laughed and they both ignored how it sounded a bit wet. He took a moment to compose himself before he spoke again. “How can you be my dad, if I’m supposed to be yours? I don’t think it can go both ways, bambino.” “Oh my god, you’re right!” Peter gasped and wriggled in Tony’s grip and tried to turn around, but Tony didn’t allow it. “What are we gonna do!”

the hearth by sagemb

What to Do When Your Wife Is Out of the Country: A Guide by Tony Stark

1) Gain partial custody of a child 2) Sleep on the couch 3) Have the child gain partial custody of you

for peter by hailingstars for frostysunflowers

“What can I get for you two fellas?” asked the waitress, still grinning, still wildly amused by the way Tony bullied the manager on shift into letting Buddy come inside the diner and eat at a table.

“I’ll take a cheeseburger,” Tony told the waitress, “And he’ll have the same.”

Buddy barked three times.

“Scratch that, three cheeseburgers and a bowl of water for my friend,” said Tony, catching the eyes of a group of men that sat at a table across restaurant. “What are you all staring at? It’s a dog, alright? What? Never seen a guy having burgers with his dog before?”

Tony recovers from losing Peter to the snap with a stray dog he found at the Parker's apartment.

An AU where Peter is turned into a dog instead of snapped out of existence and spends that five year gap living with the Starks at their lake cabin

Irondad Bingo: Fluff (literally, fluff)

Familiar sounds by Graylines

Hey kid, how did your physics practical go?"

Peter's more thrown off by how perfect a replica this is than he would be if he could find something else distinctly wrong about this situation. His spidey senses are quiet so they know enough to not threaten him outright. And whoever this is mimicks Tony well. He hasn't taken his eyes off his perusing of the streets instead of actually watching the road. Until he realizes Peter's taken too long to answer the question.

"That bad huh?" The copy offers, finally glancing in his direction. "What was it? The noise in the room? Or did the Jones girl distract you? C'mon kid I know you can do those equations in your sleep slacking off because you're bored isn't gonna cut it."

project ten on ten by htmllost

“Mr. Stark, how well do you think you know me on the scale of 1-10?”

Aka Tony finds out he isn't as close to the kid as he thinks he is when Peter rates him a 6/10 on the closeness scale. Turns out there are four major things about Peter that he doesn't know, and he tries to be better so he can go back to being the kid's favourite again. He is competitive like that. Lots of angst and fluff with bonding.

i see myself (in you) by parkrstark

“Hey, c’mon, before long we’ll be back to normal and we’ll look back at this and laugh.”

Peter just looked up at him with a slight glare as he scratched at his chin again. The itch of the facial hair was driving him crazy and Tony found it highly amusing. “You’re in the body of a 15-year-old boy. Why are you smiling?”

“You’re in the body of Tony Stark. Why aren’t you smiling?” Tony asked with a smirk.

Or, the one where Tony and Peter swap bodies.

Um, I'm Invoking Parental Rights by teaandtumblr

Tony Stark might not have a kid but geez, are they useful for getting out of tight spots.

Or:

5 times Peter calls Tony "dad" to bail him out, and the 1 time he means it.

for good by Madelinedear

"Sorry, May, we can't all be best friends with a celebrity.”

May opens her mouth to retort reflexively, the words 'we aren’t even friends' on the tip of her tongue before she closes her mouth. Because they are friends, now. They’re way past that point.

Oh my god, she thinks somewhat hysterically. Tony Stark is my best friend.

(or; Tony Stark, May Parker, and the road to something like friendship)

5 times peter clung to tony by parkrstark

...and the one time tony clung to him.

Crash Landing by Nyxelestia

"You could've left me there," Adrian murmured, jerking his head back towards the burning beach in the distance. "For Stark and his DODC people to find me. Liz and Doris' lives would've actually fallen apart with my arrest, and all my work to take care of them would've gone to waste. You could've just left me there...but you didn't. So I'll make you another deal."

Peter clenched his hands, fists shaking hard. "I'm giving you a second chance - but if you go back to what you were doing...I can't make any promises."

"It would be stupid of me to expect you to, after all this," Adrian said. He looked at Peter, at the hints of bruises and all the blood. He had trouble reconciling this fragile-looking kid with the superhuman who's been destroying his business, his daughter's homecoming date with the boy he'd nearly killed. "That's not my deal. My deal is, we both walk away, and neither of us say a word about any of this to Liz. Anything else - we'll cross those bridges as we come to them."

Swallowing, the boy nodded.

Instead of gift-wrapping the Vulture for Happy to find, Peter lets Mr. Toomes go.

the most chaotic of kidnappings by OnlyForward

a group of kidnappers decide to kidnap peter parker stark, the heir to stark industries, because he’s only a child and can't do them any harm. they are, naturally, extremely wrong.

feat. nicknames, badass peter and a healthy dose of scaring the hell out of everyone who cares about him.

tldr: don’t kidnap peter parker stark. this is why.

We're Never Too Far Apart by kingdomfaraway for marvelouscass

Taking a very measured breath, he sat up and looked around the room a bit better. If he was kidnapped, they definitely put him up in the VIP suits of kidnapping rooms. He was in a highly modern and lavish bedroom that looked like… well, it looked like it would belong to Tony Stark.

“Oh, oh oh nooo,” Peter said out loud in a voice that 100% did not belong to him. “Oh nooooooo.”

He moved out of bed, feet hitting the floor and his back immediately protesting the sudden morning movement. “Oh my god,” he said again, Tony’s voice floating back in his ears, sounding sleep ridden. “This is not happening.”

All I Need by everythingsace

“This is so cool,” Tony says, awestruck, sticking his hand in and out of the hologram, which he’s only ever seen on cartoons. “Are there other pictures?” Tony asks, staring. “Hey! What do I look like? When I’m old?”

“I’m older than you are normally, and I’m getting a little offended you keep calling us old,” Mr. Rhodey says, and Tony simply raises his eyebrows. Mr. Rhodey can not deny that he’s old.

Daisies by LittleMissAgrafina

Peter turned his attention to the younger girl.

"Hey! Maya, right?" She nodded and Peter held up a gloved hand for a fistbump. "Can you tell me your sister's name?"

"Ainsley."

"Nice! I'm Spider-Man, you can call me Spidey with a B."

"There's a B?" Maya sniffed and started giggling when Peter ducked, looking around dramatically.

"WHERE!?" He gasped, holding a hand to his heart.

---

Comfortember Day 5. Alt Prompt Flowers

Desperate Measurers by Derpmallow

"He makes his way up the steps, knocking twice on the door. There's quiet shuffling, the sound of footsteps beyond the entry. The door creaks open.

Tony doesn't know what he was expecting. Maybe an old woman, leaning heavily on her cane, a few warts on her face. Maybe an ordinary person, asking why Tony would bother them so late as to disturb their slumber. What he doesn't expect is a boy, about fourteen, to open the door, looking up at Tony with curious eyes. Clearly not a witch."

I wanted to wait until i finished a few more prompts to post so i could just bang 'em out one after the other, but they're turning out longer than expected, sooo... Whumptober prompts "desperate measures" & "magical exhaustion"

#irondad fics #irondad and spiderson #iron man #spider-man #spider-man no way home #spider-man fics #irondad #peter parker #peter parker fics #fics that didn't fit #tony stark #tony stark fics

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has-gilgamesh-doneanythingwrong · 2 years

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FGO HEADCANON STORY MASTERLIST

All of the stories, headcanons and important posts for every character I've written for are listed below the cut!

(Rules | Page 2 | Extras)

MASTERLIST

Gilgamesh NSFW Fanfic (also on ao3)

-Adulation of the King (Gilgamesh x Gender Neutral Master/ Body Worship/ NSFW)

Special Edition

-Vtuber-looking Gilgamesh 3D Model

-Pocky Day Gilgamesh

-Gilgamesh x Master (Kaguya/Shirogane type relationship)

School Clubs + Highschool AU

- Ereshkigal and Ishtar (School Clubs)

- Ereshkigal and Ishtar (Hobbies)

- Gilgamesh's Student Life

- Ozymandias, Jeanne, Iskandar (School Clubs)

- Student Gilgamesh Developing a Crush (High School Au)

- Valkyrie Sisters (School Clubs)

Crossovers

-That one Hakuouki x Fate post nobody ever asked for (Gilgamesh meeting Kazama)

Astolfo

-Astolfo General Headcanons (SFW AND NSFW)

Aśvatthāman/ Ashwatthama

-Aśvatthāman and Master Supporting one Another Through Tough Times

Chiron

-Chiron x Fem Master General NSFW Headcanons(Massage, bath sex, Thigh Sex)

Cu Alter

-TEETH 2 TEETH COMMUNICATION (lmao)

-Fate Series Cu Chulainn (Proto, Lancer, Caster, Alter)-General NSFW Headcanons

Caster Cu

-Learning How to Use the Runes with Caster Cu (FGO)

Cu (Lancer)

- Reuniting with a Previous Master (Archer Gil, Lancer Cu)

-Cu Chulainn (Lancer) x Female Master NSFW Headcanons (Chest/ Temperature Play/ Praise Kink)

-Eating Together with Master (Fem! Master, Lancer Cu, Robin Hood, Mori Nagayoshi)

-Cu Chulainn (Lancer) x Gender-Neutral Master NSFW Headcanons (Foreplay/ Biting Kink/ a 'bit' of sex)

Drake

-Opposites Do Attract, After All (Drake x Reserved Female Master)

Ereshkigal

- Ereshkigal with a Partner who has Depression

Gilgamesh (Alter Ego) *fanservant idea

- Gilgamesh (Alter Ego)'s Life in Chaldea

- The meme post that inspired the idea

Gilgamesh

- Archer Gilgamesh and Hakuno Are Summoned Together in the Fate/Zero/ FGO Holy Grail Wars

- auo take over blog

- Does Gilgamesh Like Feisty Women?

- Gilgamesh and Enkidu on a Shopping Trip

- Gilgamesh’s Banquet with A Princess From a Distant Land

- Gilgamesh's Bizarre McDonald's Adventure

- Gilgamesh Cat Headcanons

- Gilgamesh Confession to S/O

- Gilgamesh Fighting Heroic Spirits (and recording them)

- Gilgamesh's Instagram Live

- Gilgamesh in Love with a Handsome Guy

- Gilgamesh, Merlin and Solomon in a Room

- Gilgamesh as a Museum Tour Guide

- Gilgamesh x Nightclubs

- Gilgamesh's Pandemic Preparations

- Gilgamesh as a Talk Show Host

- Gilgamesh in a World Devoid of Humans

- Gilgamesh Seeing a Strip Pole for the First Time

- Gilgamesh Soothing an S/O Struggling with a Mental Health Condition

- Gilgamesh's Taste in Music

- Gilgamesh visiting Therapy for the First Time

- Gilgamesh's TV Habits

- Influencer Gilgamesh

- OTP ASK: GILHAKU

- Relaxing with Gilgamesh

- Reuniting with a Previous Master (Archer Gil, Lancer Cu)

- Sexy Date with Gilgamesh

- Superhero Gilgamesh

- S/O Dealing with Caster Gilgamesh's Bad Sleeping Habits

PAPA GILGAMESH SERIES

- Papa Gilgamesh Opinions

- Papa Gilgamesh Headcanons

- Gilgamesh with Kids

- Gilgamesh as a Mentor to a Younger Servant

- Master Accidentally Calling Gilgamesh 'Dad'

Goetia

- Teatime of The End

Gudako + Mash

- FERAL GUDAKO HEADCANON

- OTP ASK: GUDA/MASHU

- Chaldea Health Check

- Seeing Spirits

Jeanne (Ruler)

- Fluffy Jeanne x S/O Headcanons

Kadoc

- Kadoc x Master of Chaldea! S/0 General Romance Headcanons

Mori Nagayoshi

-A Conflict of Love Languages (Mori x Female Master)

-Affectionate Time With Mori (Mori x Master)

-Mori Nagayoshi- Househusband Edition

- Mori Nagayoshi x Sweet, Small Fem Master Relationship Headcanons

-Mori Meeting Master's Parents (For the FIRST TIME!)

-Kemonomimi Mori Nagayoshi x Master

-Mori Nagayoshi x Female Master NSFW Headcanons

- Mori Nagayoshi Reacting to his Female Master not Liking Tea

-Master Inviting Mori Nagayoshi out for Bubble Tea

-Eating Together with Master (Fem!Master, Lancer Cu, Robin Hood, Mori Nagayoshi)

-Mori Nagayoshi x Fem Master NSFW Headcanons (Size Kink, Touch, SEX)

Mordred

- Domestic Headcanons- Mordred x fem! master

- Reckless fem! master x Mordred Headcanons

Miscellaneous

- Chaldea: Strip Poker Night

- Gilgamesh, Iskandar and Ozymandias Hanging Out: Trip to the Hot Springs

- - Servants Playing MMORPGS (most kills/ most deaths)

- Just Another Day in Fuyuki

- Chaldea Talent Show

Mastersona

- Mastersona Introduction (1) : Seihai-Kun

- mastersona 1 daily life

- A Yearning Heart (yes one sided crush fic)

- SLEEPOVER☆CHAOS

- Celebration

- Let There Be Cake! (9 MASTERSONAS IN CHALDEA)

Oda Nobunaga (Archer)

-Archer Nobunaga Catching Nobukatsu Drawing (And She LOVES it!)

Oda Nobukatsu

-Archer Nobunaga Catching Nobukatsu Drawing (And She LOVES it!)

Saitō Hajime

-Saitō Hajime’s Life in Chaldea (ft. Guda, Okita and a teensy bit of Izou)

Sigurd

-An Anniversary like No Other (Sigurd/Master)

Solomon

-Solomon x Fem! Master NSFW (Foreplay, Soft Dom, Dirty Talk, A LOT OF ANGST!)

Robin Hood

-Eating Together with Master (Fem! Master, Lancer Cu, Robin Hood, Mori Nagayoshi)

Yan Qing

-Dominant Yan Qing x Female Master NSFW Headcanons (degradation/ edging/ aftercare)

Thank you!

#fgo headcanons #gilgablog #gilgawriting #fgo

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holylulusworld · 3 years

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Avengers masterlist

Masterlist for Avengers x Reader stories

Legend status:❌ on hiatus // ❗ ongoing // ✔ complete // 🆕 upcoming // 🖊 rewrite // ☕ AU

Contains: 💦 smut // 💔 angst // 💕 fluff // 🖤 light smut

Love Dust 💦

Building trust 💦

The pet masterlist ✔

Therapy for Superheroes masterlist ❌

The Fitness Pack masterlist ❗ ☕

Divider by me *for my blog use only*

Find more Marvel stories here: Marvel Masterlist

#The pet masterlist #Therapy for Superheroes Masterlist #Avengers masterlist #steve rogers #tony stark #loki laufeyson #sam wilson #bucky barnes #thor odinson #smut #polyamory

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whumpsday · 2 years

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Kane & Jim #17: Papercut

Masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, whumper turned whumpee, whumpee turned caretaker, starvation, begging, death wish, very slight mouth whump

tags sound bad but this is the happy one ok i prommy

It had been a month since Jim brought Kane home, and they were settling into a routine. Every morning, Jim would wash up, eat breakfast, and go get Kane. He would wait outside the bathroom while Kane washed up, the two would just do their usual all day, and he would lock Kane back downstairs before sunset. Kane’s injuries were almost all the way healed by now, though Jim still denied his repeated insistence on trying to help around the house. Even healed, he was clearly too weak to be moving around much, and Jim didn’t really need help anyway.

Jim didn’t have a job-- he was still making enough royalties off the book. The stupid book, even ten years later. Against All Odds: The True Story of Jim Lieberman. A fucking international bestseller based on interviews with him. Truth be told, he still hadn’t read the damn thing all the way through. He’d tried, of course, but he just couldn’t. He’d read the ending a million times, though. That was the part he liked, the part where he got out.

The book made him seem like a superhero. He got out, and then the book ended, all nice and clean. No PTSD, no chronic pain, no fucking nightmares where he never really left. No trying to finish high school at 25 and failing. No trying therapy and failing. No sitting in the bathtub in his sister’s house, clutching the stick he found in the woods so tightly it made his hands bleed, screaming at her that he can’t go to bed because Kane is going to find him. No moving to the middle of nowhere to get away from everyone who had read the book all the way through, to get away from the looks in their eyes that told him they knew all the details.

And certainly no keeping his former jailer captive in his basement.

They spent most of the day watching T.V., usually. Jim loved T.V. and he loved movies, always had. Back when he was Kane’s prisoner, the vampire had a T.V., but it wasn’t connected to anything. It could only play whatever VHS tapes Kane had. No episodes of Jim’s favorite shows. No new material. No news of the outside world. Now, he could watch as much as he wanted.

Kane seemed content to sit on the couch, huddled comfortably in a ball with the hood of his jacket pulled up. Sometimes he would bring the blanket up, too, though he’d started doing it less and less. Jim took it as a sign that he was beginning to feel safer, after a month of peace.

It almost seemed like it could go on like this forever.

Jim lived far enough away from the nearest town that he only got his mail delivered once a week, and today was mail day. As usual, it was mostly junk. As he thumbed through the letters and leaflets, he accidentally sliced his thumb on the sharp edge of one of the papers.

Instantly, something hit him with such force that he was knocked to the ground, the back of his head hitting the wooden floor hard as he looked up.

Kane, an uninjured, hungry vampire, was right on top of him, fangs bared and eyes crazed mere inches from his face. His hands pinned Jim’s wrists to the floor, and drool dripped onto Jim’s cheek as the vampire leaned in--

Jim screamed. His chest spasmed in panic, breathing heavily with his heart feeling like it was about to pound out of his body.

“N-n-no, no, no,” he whimpered, eyes welling up with tears.

The wild look in Kane’s eyes morphed into abject horror.

Kane hastily pushed himself up, took a few wary steps back, and raced in the direction of the basement. Jim could hear a distinctive thunk followed shortly by the sound of the basement door slamming shut.

Jim did not get up from the floor, shoulders quaking. Oh god, Kane’s in his house. He’d forgotten. This was Kane. Jim had interrupted feeding, he’d forgotten who he belonged to, he was going to be beaten again, he couldn’t breathe--

A piercing wail interrupted his spiral, the most distress-filled sound Jim had ever heard, long and broken.

When Kane realized what had just happened, he was already on top of Jim, pinning him to the floor while the human cried and pleaded.

Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

Kane reeled, backing away slowly for a few steps before making a run for it. Back down to the basement, back down where there’s no sun--

He tripped over the ankle restraints, hitting the floor with a crash. The dull pain was nothing compared to what he was about to experience. Not wasting a moment, he got back up and made it to the basement, slightly singeing his hands on the door’s silver lining as he shut it firmly behind him. Like the fall, he barely noticed.

Kane was going to be sent back. There was no getting around it, there was absolutely no way Jim was going to let him stay after what he’d just done.

He collapsed at the bottom of the stairs, sobbing. He liked it here. He had felt good for the first time in so long. Jim had allowed him to heal. The only thing that ever hurt at all anymore was the agonizing twisting of his stomach, and he’d suppressed that for so long that it was almost negligible most of the time, until the scent of blood hit him with absolutely no warning.

Jim gave him a bed, and clothes, and a blanket, and the jacket, and let him take a bath every day, and never once hurt him, even after everything he’d done. Not even so much as a cruel word. Here he got to be Kane again, instead of the leech.

But not anymore. Because he was going back. Kane shuddered on the ground. He would have to go back to being the leech. Back to the cell, to being exposed, to sleeping on concrete. Back to pain, pain, pain, every minute of every hour of every day without reprieve, and this time no one was going to come save him. He would never be allowed to feel another good thing ever again, because he didn’t deserve it. Even after everything, after claiming he’d learned his lesson, he’d still attacked. Attacked Jim, again. And now he was going to pay. Forever.

Kane wailed, his overwhelming anguish unable to be contained by his body anymore.

Jim snapped out of it at the sound of the blood-curdling scream.

He wasn’t there. He didn’t belong to anyone, not anymore. He wasn’t going to be beaten. Kane wasn’t going to hurt him anymore. Things were different now. He was home.

He was having trouble breathing because his own hand was clamped over his neck hard enough to leave bruises. He slowly unclenched his hand, not removing it entirely, just not pressing down anymore.

Jim took a deep breath and forced himself to assess the situation. Kane had tackled him. Because he was starving. Because I’m a fucking coward. Even still, Kane had managed to hold himself back and retreated without biting. That was... commendable.

If the scream was anything to go by, Kane was expecting something bad. Execution, maybe, or some form of horrifying torture Jim couldn’t even imagine. Whatever had caused the marks that had painted every inch of his skin up until recently.

Jim got to his feet. Before he could deal with Kane, he needed to make sure it wouldn’t turn into a repeat of what just happened. He got out a band-aid and secured it around his thumb, frowning. This... wouldn’t be enough, probably. He headed to the kitchen and encased the digit in plastic wrap for good measure. He was still unsure if this would be enough to block the scent of blood to a starving vampire, but it would have to do.

Just in case, he went to his bedroom to retrieve his stake. He usually kept it under his pillow, gripping it hard in the middle of the night when the fear was the worst. Never used, always handy. It wasn’t large, didn’t need to be. It went in his back pocket.

And then, the basement. As he got closer, the sound of pitiful weeping got more and more audible. Jim felt his heart twist: the guy must be absolutely terrified.

Probably best to knock first. No more surprises. The crying stopped immediately as he rapped lightly on the door.

“Kane? I’m coming down, alright?” he called.

A low, miserable whine in response.

Tentatively, he pushed open the door. Kane was crumpled in a heap on the floor, shaking in fear.

As he cautiously descended, Kane moved himself into a kneeling position. Jim opened his mouth, but before he could get any words out, Kane spoke first.

“I’m sorry. P-p-please kill me instead.” he begged, his voice shaking uncontrollably as he convulsed with sobs. “I, I know I can’t b-be allowed to st-stay here after what I’ve d-done. Please,” he looked up at Jim with desperate intensity, “Please don’t m-make me go back. I can’t. I can’t t-take it.”

He brought his trembling hands to his head, gripping fistfuls of hair. “Please just kill me. P-please, Jim, mercy. I’m s-s-so sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, please not ag-gain. N-no more, please, I can’t take any m-more pain, I can’t. Please d-don’t send me back there. I’ll d-do anything, please, anything but that, please have mercy, I’m s-sorry.”

Kane thought he was going to send him back to be tortured.

He stepped closer. The vampire tensed, staring at him with bated breath and eyes full of despair.

“I’m not sending you back.” he started.

The effect of the words was immediate. Kane collapsed on himself, crying into his hands. “Thank you.” he breathed. “Th-thank you, thank you s-so much. I, I’ll be good. I w-won’t fight it. Thank you.”

It would be so easy. The stake was in his pocket. Kane was willing, begging him to do it. He could kill his captor right now and be done with the whole affair and never have to bleed again.

But when he looked at the sobbing, fearful man in front of him, he couldn’t see the monster who’d held him captive, who’d hurt him over and over and over again. All he could think of was when he’d been there, before, when their roles were reversed. How much he’d yearned for mercy, for Kane to just agree not to hurt him, for anyone to tell him that everything was going to be okay. Kane looked as miserable as he had felt then.

And he couldn’t do it.

“I’m not going to kill you either.”

Kane’s head snapped up, eyes widening in shock. “Wh-what are you gonna do to me?”

Jim steeled his nerves. “I’m going to feed you.”

Kane couldn’t believe what he was hearing. That, that couldn’t be right.

“What?” he asked, voice small.

“I’m going to feed you.” Jim repeated, even more confidently than the first time. “We can’t go on like this. It’s not right. You need to eat. Shit, I’m impressed you stopped yourself earlier.”

Kane didn’t understand. He just didn’t understand why, of all people, Jim would do that for him. After he’d attacked, no less. The dissonance scared him.

When Kane didn’t respond, Jim continued. “I’m going to drain some blood into a cup upstairs and bring it down here for you. No biting. Okay?”

Kane nodded mutely. He was going to be given blood. He’d given up on ever being allowed to feed again for as long as he lived, resigned to the constant feeling of need.

He still hadn’t responded. Jim was going to give him everything he’d ever wanted, more than he could ever hope to deserve, and he hadn’t even thanked him for it.

“Thank you!” he practically yelled. Loud, too loud. Jim flinched, staggering backwards.

He’s afraid of me. Of course he is.

Kane clasped his hands over his mouth. “S-s-sorry. Thank you.” he repeated in a muffled whisper. “I... I’m not worthy of your kindness. I’m beyond grateful. Thank you.” He bent forward, ducking his head in reverence.

“It’s f-fine.” Jim stuttered. “I’ll, uh, be right back.”

Kane heard the door lock behind him.

This was it. He was going to be allowed to feed, for the first time in years. He couldn’t remember what it felt like to not be hungry. Realistically, he’d probably still be hungry afterwards, but he didn’t care. He would take anything. Jim had said it in a way that made it sound like he would get regular feedings, too. How often? Once a year? Every few months? Maybe, if he was lucky, even once a month. He was giddy at the concept.

Kane could smell it, suddenly. Like when Jim had cut his finger earlier. Farther away, but so much more, and he began salivating at the aroma. He needed it, needed it. With difficulty, he fought the urge to ram his body against the silver-lined door in desperation. Jim was going to let him have it, he just needed to be patient.

A possibility suddenly occurred to him: What if it was all a trick? A taunt to punish him for attacking?

It would be justified. He’d attacked, after all, and done so much worse to Jim before that. And Jim wasn’t sending him back, that was all that mattered. A false promise of blood was the mildest punishment he could possibly imagine for such an offense. He’d take it gladly.

And even so... he thought of Jim’s kind words, his generous gifts. Letting him upstairs to relax on the couch with him during the day. Closing the blinds to protect his skin. The way he’d spoken about the hunters’ treatment of him as if it was wrong. And he just couldn’t bring himself to believe Jim would do it. Kane found himself believing Jim’s words.

He was going to be fed.

The smell was getting stronger and stronger. Jim was bringing the blood here. Still kneeling, he dug his nails into his thighs, hard enough that he would have likely broken the skin if not for the fabric of the pants he’d been given, and forced himself to be still.

The door opened, and the sensation was overpowering. Kane let out a strangled noise against his will and stopped breathing, tenser than he’d ever been in his life, staring up at Jim. He couldn’t attack again, he couldn’t.

Jim approached hesitantly, a mug about one-quarter full of delicious delicious blood in one hand, his other hand behind his back. The arm he could see had a bandage wrapped around the elbow.

“Here.” Jim said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world and not the act of a saint, and held out the mug.

At the granting of permission, he finally let himself grasp the mug from Jim’s hand and brought it to his lips.

Kane had never felt anything so amazing in his entire life, tears streaming down his face as he gulped it down. It was more heavenly than he could have ever imagined, it was everything, and it was gone in all of two seconds. He lapped at the inside of the mug, licking up every last drop.

But oh, there was more, deeper in the mug than his tongue could reach, and he needed it. He felt newfound strength flowing through him, an energy he hadn’t felt in so long, and almost felt like he could just--

The ceramic shattered to pieces in his hands, allowing him to access the sweet remnants of blood at the bottom of what used to be a mug. He gleefully licked up what was left, uncaring as the jagged edges cut his tongue and added his own blood to the mix. A few drops had spilled on the floor, and he licked those up too. Finally, he had consumed every smidgeon of blood offered to him, the only remaining scent of it coming from his savior.

Jim watched, stunned, as Kane licked scattered drops of blood off the floor, broken pieces of mug strewn around him. Slowly, he lowered his hand from where it gripped the stake in his back pocket as his fear ebbed away. At last, Kane looked up, his face full of dazed wonder.

“Uh, so, I’ll use a bowl tomorrow. Got it.” Jim commented.

Kane seemed to snap back to reality at his words, eyes flicking down to the mess surrounding him before returning to Jim, more fearful. “Thank you so, so much, I, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jim waved him off. “It’s just a mug. You were literally starving.”

Kane’s shoulders relaxed at the reassurance before suddenly tensing back up, his eyes widening impossibly. “Wait-- tomorrow?”

Jim paused. This was it, he was committing. He was going to do this every day for the foreseeable future.

But... it was different, now. He was in control of his own body. It was his choice this time. It honestly hadn’t been as bad as he had expected, making the cut alone with his own hands. And looking down at Kane, eyes wide and fragile, so desperate that he’d just licked his blood off the floor without hesitation, there was no other answer he could have given.

“Yeah. You’ll be fed every day.” Jim confirmed. “Should have been that way from the day you got here.” An I’m sorry almost crossed his lips, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Not to Kane. Not after the last time he’d said I’m sorry to him.

Kane looked up at him like he was a god.

“I-” Kane stammered, “I don’t... I don’t know what to say. How I could ever repay you. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” he replied, uncomfortable.

There was one more thing.

“Kane, I just wanna make something clear.” he said seriously. Fear crept back into Kane’s eyes at the tone as Jim crouched, meeting him eye-to-eye.

“You are never going back there. I don’t expect this to happen, but if there were ever a problem-- if you ever did something... so big that I couldn’t keep you here anymore, I would kill you. I will never, ever send you back to those sick fucks. Do you understand?”

Jim had never seen someone so relieved in his entire life, let alone at the promise of potential death. He could see the tension visibly leave Kane’s body.

“I understand.” he said, his voice light.

And for the first time in five years, Kane smiled.

my face started bleeding while i was writing this (it’s fine) and i wiped it off then licked the blood off my fingers, so i’m living the dream kane-style too

taglist: (if there’s anyone who asked to be tagged and isn’t getting tagged pls send a new ask cuz i lost some of the tag requests i’d written down, sorry i’m a clutz)

@ceph-the-writing-spook

@crying-wings

@crystalquartzwhump

@cupcakes-and-pain

@deluxewhump

@elrys-creates

@extrabitterbrain

@harri-00

@inpainandsuffering

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast

@lactose-intolerant-egg

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps

@littlespacecastle

@melancholy-in-the-morning

@myhusbandsasemni

@mylifeisonthebookshelf

@nicolepascaline

@octopus-reactivated

@pumpkin-spice-whump

@quietly-by-myself

@quirkykayleetam

@ramadiiiisme

@redwhump

@scp-1296

@thecyrulik

@thegreatwhodini

@themarlo

@whump-cravings

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

@whumpthisway

@whumpilicious

@whumpshaped

@whumpwillow

@whumpy-writings

@whumpyzombie

@wits-and-wrongs

@wolfeyedwitch

#kane and jim #whump #my writing #vampire whumpee #whumper turned whumpee #whumpee turned caretaker #begging #death wish #starvation #vampire whump #whump writing

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