#quentin beck x you

[charliehoennam]

The Conception

A/N: another request by the lovely @juniebugg ❤ didn't have time to proofread so sorry for any mistakes!

Pairing: Dark!quentin beck x f!reader

Summary: quentin concocts a plan to test his precious technology (takes place before he goes rogue)

Warnings: smut, dub-con/non-con, sex without protection (wrap ur willy when it gets silly), rough sex, language. 18+ ONLY.

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

Obsession can lead to either one of two ways. It can take you on the path of success or it can take you to dark journeys with lasting consequences. Quentin was – with no doubt – an obsessive man.

The long working hours he had dedicated into developing his technology is a result of his obsession. And now that he has you, he can finally bring together the only two things that satisfy him.

You find yourself walking on eggshells again as your high heels clack their way through against the white marble floor. Quentin had forgotten a briefcase at home, containing some important blueprints. He politely demanded asked you to bring it into the lab for him. You call for him as you quietly walk inside. There are dismantled drones crowding the work stations. The lab looks a mess with small bolts, screws and motherboards everywhere.

You don’t know to expect or what state you’ll find him in. Granted he had always been self-centered and short-fused – you wish you had noticed the red flags before you said the official “I do” – he could be worse when he worked on his projects. Far worse.

“About time. What the hell took you so long?” he sighs setting the tools in his hands down on the glossy white table in front of him to walk over and rip the briefcase from your hands.

 “I’m sorry. I got caught in traffic. It’s not like I wanted to be late” you retort. “I know how you get” you add with a mumble.

You freeze the second the words leave your mouth. You realize you were thinking out loud when you catch Quin’s scowl.

 “Oh? And how exactly do I get?”

“N-nothing, Quin. I didn’t say anything.”

“So now I’m hearing things? I’m going schizo?”

 He takes a threatening step towards you, his broad size shrinking you in comparison. His shoulders stretch as he stands up straight. He wants to remind you that you are essentially powerless against him.

 “No. That’s not what I meant. I-I didn’t mean it.”

“Obviously, you did. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have said it. So, enlighten me, princess. How do I get?”

You gulp heavily as you lower your fearful agaze. His sights are locked on you like a wolf circling its prey. You’re in for it now.

As you open your mouth and try to build the courage the speak, the words seem to get stuck in your throat.

Frighteningly calm, his hand wraps around the underside of your chin. His fingertips press into one cheek as his thumb sinks into the other, forcing you to face him.

“I asked you a question, princess. It’s impolite to leave someone hanging.”

“Just a little s-scary sometimes, Quin. That’s all.”

He doesn’t need to feel your trembling to know that you’re afraid of him. As he smirks to himself, his fingertips ease the pressure they’re applying to your cheeks. He caresses them, soothing the red indents on your skin.

The change of his persona is almost too eerie.

“You’re not wrong about that. I know sometimes I can get a little impatient. I think I just need a break.I think I’ve just been in here on my own for too long. But now that I have you here...” He trailed off as he kisses you.

Slow, repeated, tender kisses that make you bubble from the inside. You can’t deny him. You fear what he’d do if you did and you find him oddly irresistible.

The small of your back is guided by his hands on your hips to meet the table as he entraps you against it with his hunching frame. His feet stand firm on either side of you, locking you in.

As his kisses grow hungry, you cling to the edge of the table to steady yourself from his mauling. His lips connect to your neck, nibbling and sucking your skin. His 5 o’clock shadow grazes you roughly as his fingers work the buttons on your shirt to reveal your black lace bra.

Your eyes dart towards the one-sided wall of glass. An office of busy workers and overflowing desks lay just outside. Even though you know they can’t see in from the outside, your cheeks still flush warmly at the sight of his co-workers.

“Quin, maybe we shouldn’t. You’re at work. Someone could see us.”

“And what’s the problem with that?” he mumbles against your flesh, too busy savoring the fullness of your breast in his hand after he shoved it under the black garment.

You hold his wrists trying to resist him as you struggle to ignore how good they feel.

“Quin, we can’t.”

“Who the fuck says when I can and can’t fuck my wife. If I wanna fuck you right here and right now, I’m gonna fuck you.”

“I-i just don’t want anyone to see, Quin.”

“Don’t worry. No one will see” he smiles darkly as a light bulb lit up upon his head. His hand retracts from your breast, rendering you confused. Had you upset him?

“No one will see. You’re for my eyes only, princess.”

You gasp when his hand reaches under your skirt and squeezes your pussy over your panties. You close your eyes to steady yourself, but they shoot open when you hear a faint blip. Closing them again, you ignore it thinking you might have imagined the sound.

“You don’t wanna disappoint your husband, do ya?” His voice is low and soft, manipulating you into surrendering to him.

“N-no, I don’t.”

“You don’t what?”

“I don’t want to disappoint you, sir.”

“That’s my girl” he chuckles dimly.

While one hand teases your clothed pussy, his other hand pulls your bra down. As the garment bunches under your fully exposed tits, it pushes them up and perfectly displays them to Quin.

You can hear a very low hum vibrating around you but you assume it’s only the AC kicking in.

“So fucking beautiful for me” he mumbles.

He’s quick to wrap his mouth around your nipple, kneading the tender flesh in his large hand. His tongue twirls around your hard nipple, stopping only to greedily suck on it. You moan as he alters. Left to right, right to left; giving them each the attention they deserve.

You watch him ravage your tits. His hand slides out from under your skirt and assists him in taking off your shirt. He leaves the bra on. He loves black on you, but personally he’s already thinking about how white they’ll be when he stains them with his cum.

“You know how much I fucking love your tits, princess.”

A telephone rings from a desk outside the lab and catches your attention. You look to the glass wall and are quickly reminded how many people are just on the other side.

“You’re such a filthy fucking whore for me” he grumbles groping your chest roughly with his hands and mouth.

“Quin, someone could walk in on us” you plead trying to remind him. He feels so good on you, but you don’t want to do this right here.

“They could” he nods looking up at you. “They could see the little slut you are for me.”

“Quin, please. Not here.”

  He ignores your pleads to stop. He knows you’re turned on by it. The wetness sinking through your panties was the only confirmation he needed.

Pushing your skirt up to expose your dampening cunt, he sits down on a rolling stool and wheels it closer.

He sits you on the table behind you and your legs spread open on their own to allow him access. You hate the puppet you become at his fingertips.

“No, Quentin. Stop it” you plead trying to get his attention.

He responds with a hard slap on your breast. The sting sends sparks straight down to your core, fueling the fire that burns in your womb.

“What’d ya call me?”

“S-sir. Please.”

“I’m gonna fuck you right here, you got that? I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Ripping your panties to the side, he buries his face between your thighs. Any shred of resistance you have melts away. Your eyes squeeze shut, but you’re reminded you have to watch the door since Quentin doesn’t seem to care at all about the people working behind him.

You alter between watching his co-workers going about their day - without the slightest knowledge of the filth going on so close to them- and his mouth as it engulfs your juicy lips. It’s almost exciting to think about. You feel so dirty and yet, so fucking good letting him use you so openly.

Your muscles burn as Quin shoves your knees apart. His lips hungrily wraps around your lips, letting his tongue lap up the wetness building up. You lean back on your elbows to let him get more of you.

You moan at his tongue swirls around your sensitive nub, sending sparks of electricity throughout your body. How can you resist him when he feels so good?

“Sir, feels so good” you whisper.

You lick your dry lips as you lay spread with his head between your legs. He hums with delight as he catches you watching the glass walls.

“You like it don’t you?” he mumbles sliding two fingers into your hole.

You hear the vibrating hum again, but nod at his question. Why is the AC so strange here?

His fingers push into the sides of your entrance, prying your hole open with the most delicious burn. His tongue slides into the hole, eagerly lapping up your sweet juice. He fucks you with his tongue and you finally surrender yourself to him completely.

There is no use in fighting back. He wins. Quentin always gets what he wants when he wants it. And he wants you now. His only argument is devouring your pussy with a hunger so deep that you’re not sure if you’re enough to satisfy. 

“Pussy so juice, baby” he mutters to your cunt. “Gotta fuck it with my cock now. Need you so bad.”

His cock feels as if it’s about to break through his pants. He wastes no time and stands up between your legs, quickly unfastening his belt and pants.

His cock springs free from it’s confines, hard already. You wince biting your lower lip. The low hum that you’ve been hearing seems even closer now. You frown and try to find the source, but you’re forced out your thoughts when Quin’s tip glides up your swollen folds and pokes at your nub.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your cunt is soaking wet as he lathers his cock with it. You watch his face contort from the pleasure. He moans and rolls his head back. He could cum just from the feeling your puffy lips hugging his dick.

He looks back down to watch himself penetrate you. His cock feels so big in you. It parts you in half as it pushes in deeper. The stretch hurts a bit, but he’s not going to ease up. This isn’t about your comfort; it’s about his need for release.

You remind yourself to breathe. The tightness around his cock feels heavenly to him, but you force yourself to relax to make it less painful.

As he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, you reach down to caress your sensitive clit to try and enjoy it more.

“Such a dirty fucking slut. Look at you. You wanna cum on my cock, princess?”

“Yes, sir.”

He chuckles and delivers a couple more slaps to your exposed breasts, leaving them red and warmly tender to the touch.

He orders you to lie on your back and squeeze your own tits. His cock bottoms out inside of you. From some reason, the deep humming seems to be coming from right above you. You look up at the ceiling trying to find the source again, but there’s nothing there.

As his hips move back to retract from your cunt, he pushes your knees to your chest. Just when you think your pussy couldn’t be anymore exposed.

With his hands on the back of your thighs, he leans down to spit on your cunt. It’s spread so open; he doesn’t even need his hands to guide his head inside your hole. His dick glides into your stretched wetness.

He fucks so rough and hard; you know you’ll be sore for days.

The panties bundled into a string rub along the side of your cunt. It burns your skin, but all you think about is how good his cock starting to feel.

Your clit trembles at the pleasure.

“P-please, sir. Can I touch myself?”

His dark smile grows wide.

“Only ‘cause you remembered to ask, princess.”

You quickly reach down to your cunt to rub yourself where you need it most. It finally feels so good.

“Pussy so fucking wet. Make yourself cum on my cock.”

You can hear how wet you really are. You can feel your slick spread all around and stick to his groin. You wish you weren’t as wet as you are. You know he takes so much pride in knowing he makes you that way.

His balls thump faster against your ass as he picks up his pace. You’re so full of him; it’s pushing you over the edge. The bundling pressure finally bursts inside you.

As your walls contract and tighten around his pounding cock, you keep your eyes locked on the glass wall praying no one would hear or enter the lab. He wishes he could spend all day doing this; just fucking you silly until he’s too spent.

 His throbbing cock shows he’s so close.

Leaving you aching to be full again, he pulls himself out and finally cums. He coats your swollen pussy lips with his warm string of white beads, painting you like a canvas.  He haphazardly pulls your panties back over your drenched cunt to pump his final load over your panties.

He chuckles tiredly feeling his cum quickly soak through the lace with the tip of his cock. The idea of you walking out that door and down the building, all the way home with your pussy and panties coated with his cum excites him.

“Stay dirty until you get home.”

You nod as he lets you climb down from the table. You both redress and adjust your clothes to return to your day. Your legs feel like they barely hold you up.

“Give sir a kiss goodbye” he smiles enjoying the power he has over you.

You obey and press your lips to his, letting it linger for as long as he wants.

“We having steak for dinner tonight?” he whispers holding your hips.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then I’ll be home early.”

You smile as he reaches up your skirt to confirm his cum is still where he wants it.

“Keep ‘em on all day. I’d better come home and find this still on my pussy.”

“You will, sir” you nodded obediently. Your pussy tingles at his touch, anxious for more.

He gives you one more kiss to let you go and slaps your ass as you turn to walk to the door. With your pussy beyond soaked, your wetness mixes with his cum and trickle down your inner thighs. It makes your walk a little difficult as you pray it doesn’t drip out.

You make your way out of the lab and walk towards the elevator, hoping no one will notice. You feel a few pairs of eyes on you. Whether they know or not, you can’t be sure. So, you just smile shyly at them and keep your gaze down.

Quentin watches you step into the elevator from the lab. Finally sitting back at his station, he lifts a thin tablet from his desk and presses an icon.

The drone, which is controlled by the tablet, reveals itself as it deactivates its cloaking device. Now fully visible, he lands it on the table to deactivate the drone entirely.

Quin leans back in his chair with a mischievous grin as he raises the tablet. Pressing a few more icons on the touchscreen tablet, he smirks grimly as he watches the previous recording saved on the device. With the touch of a button, he expands the video into holograph mode.

His technology finally worked.

The holograph shows you with your cunt fully exposed, being fucked by him on the table. He rewinds it to watch it from the start, laughing to himself proudly.

“Thank you, princess.”

#quentin beck #quentin beck imagine #quentin beck x reader #quentin beck x you #quentin beck x y/n #quentin beck x f!reader #jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #jake gyllenhaal

[donovan-writes]

Part 2 of Quentin Beck x Reader Headcannons

@stephen-writes said he wanted more

Again In Gender Neutral Perspective <3

(If you use the photo above please credit me I made it myself)

Comment if you wanna be tagged for part 3

• When he’s sick he’s a big snuggler

• Like he doesn’t want you to get sick either but he so badly wants you with him when he’s not feeling good. He hates being alone when he’s sick

• If his day was bad he wants to lay on your chest and just sit there. Sometimes he ends up crying because it’s so relaxing

• He watches kids shows sometimes

• He gets you guys matching onesies

• You guys get into roast battles sometimes and he doesn’t go for anything really personal but he’ll make some bitching roasts

• If you ask to paint his nails it’s an immediate yes. However makeup for him he is reluctant

• He asks for head massages all the time. Especially if he gets a migraine

• If he’s ever jealous (like cause someone was staring at you cause you’re all beautiful don’t tell him other wise <3) you’ll know by the fact his arm will always be around your shoulder, even when you get home

• When he misses you he holds a pillow when he can’t hold you, if you ever FaceTime him you will witness it

• He said “I love you” 50 times before you hang up on any calls

• I feel like he can get stressed out with his work sometimes, but the moment he’s with you he’s calm. Especially if you rub his shoulders

• Any form of encouragement makes him feel like he can conquer the world. You could say “great job. 👍” and he’s like “Oh my God ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE CAUSE MY BABY BELIEVES IN ME”

• He’s so proud to have you. Literally tells anyone he can “hey, I have the g r e a t e s t partner lemme tell ya”

• He thinks your laugh is adorable and when you smile it melts his heart

• Sometimes he’ll stare into your eyes and compare them to a gem

• Oh you like jewelry? He buys you ALL. KINDS.

• When you’re sad and in need of lovin’ he’s on👏🏻the👏🏻case👏🏻. Blankets, pillows, stuffed animals, and you’re in his arms being swayed

• Every time you meet up at the end of the day he asks how your day was first

• He always wants to know how you’re doing. You can always be honest with him

• If there’s drama where you work he wants to know ALL of it cause lemme tell you this man LOVES a good drama

• He reads to you if you can’t sleep

• Have a nightmare? He’s on the case👏🏻. He will lay with you, hold you, massage your head or something, he’ll even sing for you. Anything to help you sleep

• He gets matching fuzzy socks for you both

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gylenhall #Mysterio x reader #quentin beck #Quentin beck x reader #Quentin Beck x Gender neutral reader #Quentin Beck x you #mysterio x you #x gender neutral reader #marvel x readers #marvel headcanons #marvel gender neutral reader #headcannons #mysterio #mysterio x gender neutral reader #mysterio x male reader #mysterio x female reader #x reader #quentin beck x y/n

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

Masterlist:

The Containment Diaries: Bob Floyd & Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

• Entry 1

• Entry 2

• Entry 3

• Entry 4

• Entry 5

• Entry 6

• Entry 7

• Entry 8

• Entry 9

• Entry 10

• Entry 11

• Entry 12 - Final

The Witching Hour: Bob Floyd x Reader

• Chapter 1

• Chapter 2

• Chapter 3

Blessed Be: Bob Floyd x Reader

• Prologue

• Chapter 1

• Chapter 2

• Chapter 3

• Chapter 4

• Chapter 5

• Chapter 6 - Final

Predator and Prey: Tommy Cahill x Reader:

• Chapter One

• Chapter Two

• Chapter Three

• Chapter Four

• Chapter Five

• Chapter Six

• Chapter Seven

• Chapter Eight

• Chapter Nine - Final

Star Crossed: Detective David Loki x Reader:

• Chapter One

• Chapter Two

• Chapter Three

• Chapter Four

• Chapter Five

• Chapter Six - Final

Drugs, Thugs and Pilot Kelson Hugs: Pilot Kelson x Reader:

• Part 1

• Part 2

• Part 3

• Part 4

• Part 5 - Final

#jake gyllenhaal #character: elwood dalton #donnie darko #quentin beck #david loki #jacob gyllenhaal #pilot kelson #highway 2002 #highway #detective loki #detective david loki #prisoners 2013 #road house #jake gyllenhaal x reader #detective loki x reader #david loki x reader #Tommy Cahill x reader #Pilot Kelson x reader #bob floyd #lewis pullman #robert bob floyd #top gun maverick #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fic #bob floyd x you #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bob floyd x reader #top gun bob #bob floyd imagine

[mlmxreader]

Cold Beds | Quentin Beck x m!reader

@areyouwaiting asked: :]

Quentin Beck x male reader

“Can I stay the night?” as the prompt? I love that manipulative bastard so much.

I‘d honestly let him gaslight and manipulate me don’t @ me

summary: you're bed's too cold and you're doing your best to stay up just to wait for a single man

tws: swearing

Another rerun of an old television programme was playing on the television, its dull light filling the room and the quiet volume seemingly screaming as the wind blew harshly against the windows and the rain cried softly; despite the thick duvet and the extra blanket and the dressing gown that wrapped your body, the bed still felt cold and empty, and you wished that there was something that you could have done to change it. Your eyelids felt heavy, and yawns kept bubbling up at the back of your throat, but the one thing that kept you up and awake was the text that had come through not even ten minutes ago; a promise from a wanted man, that he would soon be with you and that he would not be long at all. It was the only thing that stopped you from falling asleep as you watched the characters on the television don surgical robes and masks; a flash of blue, and suddenly the adverts were on and you felt your bones ache and protest when you trudged to the kitchen.

Waiting for you, ever so casually leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms folded and that goddamn fish bowl he called a helmet resting on the table, was the man you so very much yearned to see; his brown hair was ragged and messy, knotted in places from sweat and dirt that he absolutely detested. His blue eyes were blanketed with exhaustion, but when he saw you, that sickly smile didn't even take a second to spread across his face. He was nearly fucking grinning, the asshole.

"Oh," you checked your phone to make sure you had not missed any messages. "I didn't hear you come in."

Quentin didn't move, watching you as he clenched his jaw; he wanted your attention, your applause and your admiration, he wanted your focus to be entirely on him at all times. But you didn't fucking give it to him as your busied yourself with making a cup of coffee. He could be manipulative, sly and cunning and dangerous, he could weaponise his good looks and his intelligence and his charm. But he was so fucking tired he couldn't even bring himself to do any of that. He just craved your admiration.

Finally, Quentin gathered himself, and he spoke, "you were still in bed. You didn't even think of checking?"

"Not really," you admitted with a soft chuckle. "I know you, Quentin, I mean, I'm your boyfriend for fuck's sake, I know you wouldn't give a shit if I did come and check."

He hummed, but as soon as you had made it for yourself, he stole your coffee, taking a long swig as he let the caffeine do its work. "Can I stay the night?"

"Yeah," you shrugged. "But you're not changing the channel. I've finally found the one that plays all the old shit like Magnum PI."

Quentin didn't say anything further, just huffed as he knocked back the rest of the coffee and left the mug on the side, not even bothering to put it in the sink; he wasn't about to tell you, but he had gotten a new job, and his first paycheck was due - which meant that he could finally win your favour a little more by buying you all that shit you said you wanted. Anything to keep you right there, right at his side and letting him stay every single night, right at his side and quietly telling him that you wanted more when he got jealous of your friends and decided to kiss you so harsh that your bottom lip bled. He followed you to bed once you had made and drank your own coffee, immediately commanding your attention when he got you cuddled into his side, his arm lazily drifting up and down your arm; the quiet television was playing one of those old programmes you had mentioned.

You noticed it after a while, the feeling that the bed wasn't cold any more, that the icy grip it had had was now gone and that it was warm. Cosy. Comfortable. You realised what you had been missing, it wasn't the heating and it wasn't extra layers of clothes or extra blankets, it was Quentin. Your Quentin. The one who had wanted so badly to take revenge on the man who stole his invention, the man who ruined his life by stealing his work and not even paying him a fucking penny, that he ended up becoming a supervillain in the process. Your Quentin.

"I'm glad you stopped by," you admitted quietly. "It was so fucking cold without you in my bed."

"Yeah," he grumbled. "I know."

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

#mlem writes #quentin beck x reader #Quentin Beck imagine #Quentin Beck oneshot #Quentin Beck one shot #Quentin Beck #mysterio x reader #mysterio oneshot #mysterio imagine #mysterio #fishbowl zaddy tbqh #jake gyllenhaal x you #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal imagine #Jake Gyllenhaal

[mr-voorhees-husband]

AaHha!~ TheJasonbitsthough!!!BtwtytyfortheNora&Freezebit! Youspoiledme;w;

Mysterioistotallyintopetplaybtw

HolycrapIneverkneworponderedhowwellthatkinkworksforhim.

Imaginehimrobbingabankthatway.Butthebankerisjustakinkyfuck. *Gets.stabbed*

Oh. Oh dear.

you- you're right.

Oh my god.

FUCK IT QUENTIN PET PLAY HCS

Warnings: NSFT, (slight) Petplay, dom/sub relationships, dom!Quentin

Reader: gender neutral, sub, implied bottom

I feel like even Quentin didn't know he had this kink at first. So he liked you to get off on his thigh, it wasn't a kink thing. ..was it?

It was. It totally was. One day, for shits and giggles, you bought a collar, either for a cosplay, an outfit, or just because you thought it was pretty, you bought it. Jokingly, you show it off to Quentin, having it on, of course.

Quentin though, he doesn't think he's ever gotten so hard in his life. It's like something clicked for him, like the final piece for a puzzle. Confident as ever, he tells you on the spot.

"Can you wear that tonight?"

You blink, staring at your boyfriend in confusion. "Tonight?" You reach up to unclasp it, hands being caught by Quentin. For a moment, you're worried, before you reconize the look in his eyes. "Oh my god are you turned on right now?"

He didn't answer, hands reaching up to loop around the small metal ring, experimentally tugging it to get you closer to him. You grinned, watching Quentin with puppy dog eyes as he stared at your neck in awe. "Is this okay?" He mutters, the finger in the ring slipping between your neck and the collar.

Always the considerate one, even while his eyes were blown in lust and you could feel in clothes erection rubbing against your jeans. It was cute. "Of course, master."

You couldn't really walk the next day, but you weren't complaining either. Eventually he accepts the role more willingly, but he doesn't like all the aspects of it.

You're still his lover, so putting you in a cage, making you eat out of a bowl, it'll never happen. That being said, he doesn't mind putting some animal ears on you and getting you to hump his leg like the sweet slut of a pet you are.

The versatility of a theater major, I suppose.

#im still writing that victor thing for you i promise #but its really long because I wanted to fully explore everything #so i'll get this out for you in the mean time :] #quentin beck #mysterio #mysterio x reader

[theweirddivide]

The explanations are on the tip of his tongue when he pushes the door open, ready to lie and deceive the man who’s spent so long manipulating and gaslighting him.

But when he opens the door, nobody’s there.

Peter steps inside tentatively, eyebrows furrowing. He checks the bathroom, checks the kitchen and the other bathroom and even puts on his coat and shoes to check outside, just in case he’d passed out or something on his way in. Peter doesn’t even need to step off the porch, however, because the car isn’t there.

Beck never came home last night.

—

Here it is! The next part of my series “‘cause freedom is no small thing” is up 😁 I hope you all enjoy!!

#irondad #peter parker & tony stark #peter parker #quentin beck #tony stark #peter parker & Quentin beck #peter parker x quentin beck #not very slashy though because it’s one-sided/abusive #but it’s there if you squint! #spider son #irondad and spiderson #ao3

[maxislvt]

helloo, first off i love your work ! second, this may or may not be a request but- imagine dark!wanda x spidey!reader, post no way home where r is one of the avengers sent to stop wanda on her rampage. r gets captured by wanda though and turns out wanda remembers r’s identity. she had a crush on r since civil war and now that she has r all to herself…😳

“i’m going to ruin you”

warnings: womb tattoos, coercion, manipulation, spiderperson typical quips in really bad situations, no smut

got a little carried away, whoops!

The last few months of your life have been awful.

Life had been pretty stable for the most part. Trying to balance college, being a superhero duo with your adoptive brother, and the newfound freedom of adulthood was a lot to say the least. Then some big alien freak came along and ruined everything. You and Peter left Aunt May behind for five years.

For better or for worse, you and Peter didn't age. Peter still had his senior year ahead of him and you were only 24. So you both tried to make the most of that.

You were supposed to chaperone your little brother's senior trip through Europe. All you wanted to do was help Peter enjoy the last few months of youth he had before being shipped off to college. Of course, fate had other plans and the trip was interrupted by another cataclysmic event. One unpredictable turn after another. Then suddenly everyone knew your secret identity.

Quentin Beck was a hero and you were half of the duo that killed him.

One edited video and suddenly the whole world was against you and your brother. It was a target on your back you had no way of getting off your back. The magical escape you thought you'd found was nothing but a wolf in sheep's clothing. Universes nearly collided. Three versions of your brother. Two other versions of you. Villains the two of you tried and failed to rehabilitate. A moment of complete darkness for your brother A dead aunt. So much fighting. So much pain. All of it for nothing. At the end of it all, everyone was forced to forget about you and Peter. No more full rides to dream colleges and no more "Amazing Spider Kids". It was just the two of you in a shitty Downton apartment at a community college neither of you really wanted to attend, but that didn't stop you two from trying to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

That need to protect everything and everyone seemed to get you in bigger trouble.

America Chavez. Barely 15 years old, alone in the multiverse, and no one to trust. Her powers and life experience were beyond you — you couldn't even take credit for defeating whatever monster that was chasing her — but you wanted her safe. You foolishly thought that it'd be as simple as finding a hero that could mentor her. Magic wasn't your strong suit. Yet, you still helped America try to escape the claws of the Scarlet Witch along with Doctor Strange.

In the midst of a heated chase, the witch's focus seemed to have shifted. Your mask was ripped by a piece of metal and you could feel the witch's eyes on you. Since you were more focused on protecting America, you decided to send The Scarlet Witch on a goose chase. You and a magical body double of the girl. Unfortunately, you could only run for so long. You didn't bother fighting when you were captured. All you could do was put on a brave face as you were somehow teleported back to your universe. You assumed the witch had gotten a decent portion of America's powers. That worried you, but unfortunately you had to prioritize your personal safety for a moment.

The witch must've known you were too weak to run away because she didn't even bother tying you down. She just stood over you and examined your face. You were nervous and confused to say the least. "So, uh, do you always stand over sacrificial young adults in such a compromising way or am I special?" You quipped. It was a real misfortune your mouth tended to run more when you were nervous. Your heart almost exploded when she reached out for your mask. "Hey, hey! Have some respect for a man's secret identity, will you?" You shouted, trying to push her hands away.

Automatic reflexes were nothing against magic and you were unmasked and it sent your spider senses spiraling.

"You remember me."

"Of course,I remember you. Do you not remember me?"

The airport. Tony had you and Peter flown out for a top secret field mission, that's what he told you at least. You weren't sure what you were fighting for, but you remember the battle clearly. Some guy had grown to a hundred feet tall. You fought some guy with a metal arm. Then someone suddenly started throwing cars. They had all missed you and went straight for Tony, but it was still scary. After the battle, you learned the name of all the people you fought. The weird one, as Tony described her, was named Wanda Maximoff. It's scary how your life had become so eventful that you'd forgotten that whole experience. Well, you couldn't blame yourself for not recognizing her considering the drastic change in her appearance.

"Yeah," You said bitterly, "you threw a car garage at my mentor."

"Your mentor made the bombs that destroyed my home country and had me jailed for powers I didn't ask for."

That was the first time a villain had left you truly speechless. Tony wasn't like that. Was he?It was a lot to process and that wasn't made any easier with the icy cold hand caressing your cheeks. "If you're going to drop an information bomb, can you at least give me a second to —" Your sentence was cut short by her thumb slipping into your mouth. Wanda had managed to slip past your spider senses. It was odd considering you were definitely not calm nor did you trust her.

"I figured he didn't bother telling you the whole truth," Wanda's voice had gotten low and seductive. Her thumb pressed down on your tongue as she continued to monologue. Your squirming didn't phase her at all. "I could hear your thoughts the moment you stepped foot in the airport. So loud and frantic, but nothing but innocence and desire for approval. It's a shame I wasn't able to see you again after that. I was lost in a hex of my own deepest desires and do you know what was there?" A smile spread across her lips as she felt you relax out of curiosity. "The two of us, happily married with two children, and living in New Jersey."

The statement made you jump and start fighting again. Married with kids was definitely not on your list of goals in the next few months, living in New Jersey just sounded dreadful. You managed to get her thumb out of your mouth just long enough to speak. "I'm sorry to hear about your crazy magic thing, I'm not ready to settle down yet. Maybe come back in six years once I've graduated, yeah?"

Wanda binded your wrists with magic. Her hand came down on your cheek with all the strength she had. Despite her frustration, she was happy to see you were still as witty and innocent as the day you two met. "I think I have a plan you'll like." She smirked as she summoned the darkhold. It opened on its own. The book turned towards you and translated itself so you could understand it. "Your innocence," she said before ripping you suit, "and your body in exchange for the girl's safety."

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. It certainly wasn't a fair deal, even more unfair once you looked over the spell presented to you. A womb tattoo magically etched into your skin that would give Wanda complete control over your libido, orgasms, and a bunch of other depraved things you hadn't even heard of before. Wanda definitely wasn't the woman you imagined would take your virginity, but it wasn't an offer you could refuse. Strange wasn't strong enough to defeat Wanda and letting America die wasn't an option in your mind.

You put on as brave a face as you could before speaking, "If you so much as lay a finger on that girl, the deal is off." Your voice faltered at the feeling of Wanda's lips pressed against your neck. A moan nearly escaped your lips when Wanda's hands began exploring your body. The skin of your lower stomach began to tingle. This was it. This was how you lost your virginity.

Wanda's lips curled into a smile. A real one that showed off her perfectly white bunny teeth. She was no longer concerned with America. You were all she needed now.

"I'm going to ruin you," She whispered, "and you're going to enjoy every moment of it."

You wanted her to be wrong. You wanted so badly to hate the way her hands felt against your bruised skin and the softness of her lips on your neck, but you couldn't. Months without affection left your body desperate for any form of human touch. It is shameful and almost disgusting.

"Shh, I'll treat you right. Just be good for me."

#panther speaks #anon #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda fanfic #dark!wanda maximoff #panthers drabbles

[nowayspidey]

The beetle x The spider.

(Peter Parker x Male!Reader!blue beetle.)

Your ass was on fire. Literally. Burning sensation all over your back along with a throbbing pain that only intensified more and more as soon as you got to the room. Or better said; fell on the room, rolling on the cold floor. Chest rising and falling with no signs of stopping a frantic breathing. Or maybe because Peter let go of you to run and close all the windows in the apartment.

'What's all that sound?' A feminine voice followed Peter steps as he returned with a panicked expression to the room, standing next to you.

That's when you experienced one of the most embarrassing moments in front of your mother-in-law's figure. Peter had slipped the suit off his body, and you.... almost the same. Peter was in his boxers while your's were revealed on the part of your butt. You had gotten up and were on your back checking for injuries. Peter's hand hit your back, catching your attention.

"WHAT?!?!" You snapped angrily.

And yes, you were angry with him. But your anger had blinded you the fact that you were showing your ass to May Parker and Happy Hogan who were now standing at the door-room frame.

'What's going on....? (M/n)..? Can you-- can both of youput on some clothes right now and explain to us what's going on?'

'Yes. May.' Both of you said in unision.

'I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing that beetle embedded in your back (M/c).' Happy had an expression between disgust and curiosity.

'I know. It's unpleasant. But she's sensitive so let's try not to say it out loud.'

But nevertheless, you spoke again first.

'Peter decided to trust a complete stranger on the trip to Italy and NOW after trying to kill us, he revealed our identities!'

'(M/c)!' Peter hissed. He had heard your complaints since you boarded Happy's jet in that tulip field that day on the netherlands.

The two of you had a complicated "relationship."

'Just telling the truth.' You answered, almost eating him with your eyes as you remembered everything that happened in Italy and London.

You spat out the words like venom as you dressed in blue pajama pants and a Hello Kitty shirt you found in Peter's closet.

Helicopters surrounded the building. You ran to the living room in your Hello Kitty pajamas to find every news channel the revelation that Quentin Beck had recorded.

'This is bad. Really bad.' You murmured.

'This is a shithole.' The voice of the beetle responded.

'Yes it is.' You ran a hand through your hair.

Authors note: i know i took a looong break from writing. But im better (mentally) now and back on trying to write more m/c fics!♡

This is a small series i have planned base on no way home movie x blue beetle movie!!! Also, If you want jaime reyes fics you can drop request at my box ;)

#male reader #male!reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland #tom holland one shot #writing inspiration #angst prompts #tomhollandmale!reader #peter parker fic #peter parker #peter parker male reader #peter parker male!reader #blue beetle male!reader #jaime reyes male!reader #marvel male reader #x male reader #xolo maridueña one shots #peter parker oneshot

[avecra]

Not My Babe

summary: After a nasty break up to a nearly two year relationship, you find yourself dragged to a bar by your best friend, though a familiar blue-eyed biker makes the best of your crappy situation.

pairing: biker!bucky x reader

word count: 3.4k

warnings: angst and fluff, mentions of toxic relationship, violence, alcohol, smoking, biker!bucky is also protective!bucky

a/n - the title and some dialogue is partly based on #icanteven by The Neighbourhood and French Montana, let me know if you guys want a part 2 :)

The smell of cigarette smoke and aged whiskey burned your nostrils all while you kept your hand encased with your best friend’s, following her into the packed bar. Rock music echoed against the walls, lyrics of Led Zeppelin and Aerosmith filled the air. You passed by a few people, before settling down at the far end of the bar.

You felt wildly out of place, glancing between the leather clad patrons and the grey sweater that sat over your shoulder. Nervously fiddling with your fingers, you saw Natasha plop herself on a stool next to you and place a gentle hand on your wrist.

“Relax, would you?” Her green eyes and soft smile seemed to relax you, but there was still an inkling feeling in the back of your head. “You are not together anymore, if he wants to make a big deal of you going out then he can talk to me.”

“Him being the horrid boyfriend, I presume?” You looked up at the sudden voice and smiled, seeing Sam Wilson behind the bar.

“Ex-boyfriend, actually,” Natasha cut in, a knowing smile, but you couldn’t even muster yourself to lift up the corner of your mouth.

Nearly two years was wasted, and you spent it chasing a man for affection that didn’t even care about you in the first place. A relationship that had started so beautifully, that had been filled with joy and happiness that had now developed into something that filled your days with misery.

Quentin Beck never showed you affection unless you were the one to initiate it, he never showed up on dates and when he did, he was always either staring down at his phone or up at a television set, watching whatever sports was on at the moment.

It didn’t just stop at that, though.

Continuous nights of coming home when it was nearing one or two in the morning, the stench of stale beer and the hint of floral perfume tearing you from your sleep as he slithered into bed. The times you questioned him about it, he brushed you off and told you in an annoyed voice, “Would you relax and stop being so dramatic? You were probably having another one of those dreams.”

Looking back, you put up a lot for a long time with him and his flaws. Always having to clean the apartment, do the dishes, the laundry, everything. Natasha had begged, practically pleaded you to leave and break up with him, but you always opposed that. He, unfortunately besides Natasha, was all you had. You had no one else.

Conversations about your relationship swirled between you and your best friend for months, until finally, you saw him kiss another woman’s neck in the small restaurant you had about to order from, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from how he gently held her waist and caressed her face when he moved to cup her cheek.

It physically hurt you.

Not the fact that your boyfriend was kissing another woman in a bar, but the fact that in the past year of your relationship, he ever showed you an ounce of the love and affection he showed her.

You finally decided that was the final straw and broke up with him the day after. Natasha and a few of her friends volunteered themselves to help move you out of his apartment and in with Natasha.

To say it had been a stressful past few weeks would be an understatement, dealing with moving and adjusting to a life without him, Natasha instead that the two of you meet up with her friends, to let yourself loose.

And now, you found yourself sitting in a bar surrounded by people who you had only met on a few occasions, but Natasha had told them enough to get a good read off of you.

“And I presume that’s a good thing?” Sam’s voice tore you out of your thoughts. Natasha nodded her head a little too enthusiastically and you moved your gaze to his and nodded. “Well, good riddance to his ass. What’s your drink, sugar?”

“I guess a vodka cranberry,” you replied, unsure if you really wanted it.

In all truth, Beck always seemed to discourage you whenever you ordered yourself anything remotely alcohol, he would advise you to take it easy and to order something else in a bitter tone. But Natasha knew you better than anyone else.

“No, give her a whiskey sour. I think she’ll like that,” She slung an arm around your shoulder and leaned her temple against yours. “I know it feels like everything is falling apart, but I’m really glad you’re here with me tonight. I missed my best friend.”  

The familiar sting of tears pricked at the back of your throat and you leaned into her embrace. Sam placed your drink on the napkin in front of you, handing Natasha a beer.

“I missed you, too, Nat.” you said back, taking your drink and clinked it against her bottle. You took a sip of your drink, and you looked at Sam with a gleam in your eyes. “Oh, I like that.”

“See? Don’t I know my friends?” The redhead smirked as she took a sip from her bottle, eyes glinting with excitement when she heard the deep familiar voice of the owner.

“Probably knows us all better than we know ourselves.”

You turned your head to see James, or Bucky as he liked to be called, walk up to the bar, several bottles of alcohol in hand as he began to stock the bar. Striking blue eyes met yours and he sent you a smile.

“The shipment just came in,” Bucky spoke to Sam. “Just stock it up in the freezer and Nat and Steve will go over the inventory tomorrow morning.”

Sam nodded and looked to Natasha, nudging his head to the back, where the inventory was waiting to be put away. Then, she turned to you with a gentle hand on your wrist.

“You gonna be okay if I help Sam out?” she asked and you nodded, pushing out a smile for her. She squeezed your arm and murmured how she wouldn’t be long. You watched her until she disappeared into the back before returning your gaze to your drink.

From behind the bar, Bucky watched as you trailed a finger up the side of your glass, catching the condensation before it touched the bartop. He lifted up your drink and placed a napkin below and leaned his elbows against the counter.

Bucky had been one of the first to know of your messy breakup with Beck. Afterall, he and Sam were both sitting with Natasha in the near empty bar when you called her, crying and almost hyperventilating after a two hour screaming match with him.

He had driven his truck to the apartment you shared with Beck and watched as Natasha dashed out of the backseat to you, pulling you into her arms. A shared look with Sam and Natasha was leading you to the truck, helping you inside before rushing inside to pack you a bag of essentials, some things to hold you over until you could properly move out.

The tissues that sat unopened in his glove box were offered to you, and your glossy eyes met the soft hues of his blue ones and more tears filled your eyes. The night was a blur to you, but you could distinctly remember him getting out of the driver's seat to comfort you until Natasha returned.

It was the simple acts of kindness, like when he placed a hand on your trembling back, rubbing soothing circles across your tense shoulders. Or when he helped pack and move your belongings from Beck’s apartment to Natasha’s.

You had only known him for a few months, but he had shown you more care than Beck had in the two years together.

“How are you?” Bucky asked as you took another sip. You shrugged and propped your head up on the palm of your hand.

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “One day I’m fine, the next day I just want to cry my eyes out for a guy who treated me like shit, now that I realize.” It never dawned on you how horribly he had treated you during your relationship. How he never liked you going out with Nat, or just going out in general unless it was with him. He could go out with his friends, but you had to stay home. He despised when you came home from work late, and would often pressure you into cooking even though you were exhausted. “I’m so stupid for staying with him for so long.”

You quickly downed the rest of your drink and winced at the sour taste before running the back of your hand over your forehead. The urge to cry tore its way through you, but you fought the desire.

Bucky placed a cup of water in front of you and  brushed his fingers lightly over your knuckles. “Please don’t talk about yourself like that. You are not stupid, don’t think that you are.”

His voice was soft, and though he was dressed in dark jeans and a black t-shirt with tattoos lining his arms, he was always gentle when he spoke to you. You had seen him get rousey and excited during football games shown at the bar, but even then, he still remained a gentle person.

Parts of you wished Beck could have been more like Bucky… or that Beck was Bucky. If Beck had been more like him, maybe you wouldn’t have been in a bar drinking your pain away, but you couldn’t change the past, though you desperately wish you could.

“You have such a beautiful personality, don’t let that asshole take that from you again. Don’t let him hurt you even more.” Blue eyes held so much intensity as they gazed into yours and you could feel your cheeks heat up.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you said, mustering up a small smile. He winked at you and took your empty glass off the bartop and you asked, “can I have another?”

But Bucky was already a step ahead of you, placing a freshly made whisky sour in front of you. He watched you with a smile as you took a sip, sighing in content as the lemony alcohol satisfied the pain. “The guys and I have really enjoyed your company. We really like it when Nat invites you to the bar.”

You let out a hearty huff and smiled at him. “I like hanging out with you. I feel like I can… I can just finally be me.”

“It’s a good look on you,” Bucky said with a cheeky smile and he leaned forward. “But seriously, it doesn’t matter how long you stayed with him, or how poorly treated you. What matters is that you are away from him.” Tears gathered at your waterline. “Besides, you’re way too beautiful for him anyways. It’s his loss.”

You were at a loss for words, you couldn’t help the bashful smile and the heat that spread across your face like a wildfire. The way he spoke to you made your stomach flutter, the calm ocean blue of his eyes brought you to a safe place, away from all the toxicity you had faced.

“Thank you, James.” you whispered, blinking away the tears, though one escaped down your cheek. Before you could wipe it away, Bucky beat you to it, catching your tear with the pad of his thumb. He dropped his hand and brushed his fingers over the back of your hand and over your fingers.

As he was about to say something, a few patrons down the bar flagged for his attention. He nodded to them and turned back to you, pushing himself up from the bar. You watched him in content as he gave you a small smile and and you reached out and placed a hand over his tattooed wrist.

“I’ll be okay. Go help your customers,” you gently told him.

“I’ll only be a minute, doll,” He nodded and gave you one last smile before making his way down the bar. Your stomach fluttered at the nickname and you kept your eyes on his back until he was down at the other end of the bar, pouring whiskey into glasses and pulling out beer bottles from the cooler. You forced yourself to pull your gaze away from him, opting to swirl the straw around your drink.

Absorbing yourself in the atmosphere, you looked around, seeing how some patted each other’s back and laughed, some cheered to who knows what, and others placed bets on who would win in a game of pool.

Everyone knew each other around here, and the thought made your heart warm. The music wasn’t too bad either, as the jukebox played mostly classic rock, you still enjoyed it. The atmosphere in general you enjoyed.

You silently thanked Natasha in your head for dragging you tonight, though you had no interest originally, but being around Bucky and talking to him lifted your spirits. The thoughts of Beck and being with him instantly flew out of your mind.

Until you felt an all too familiar presence behind you, followed by the same nauseating stench of his cologne.

You turned around with wide eyes as you came face to face with your ex-boyfriend. Quentin Beck looked at you with an annoyed, malicious smirk. You couldn’t help but scoot closer to the bartop as his eyes raked over your form.

“What are you doing here?” You were the first one to speak, though your voice wavered. Your last encounter with him had been a two hour screaming match that left you sobbing and trembling.

Beck let out a dry chuckle and shook his head. “What am I doing? What are you doing, Y/n? Who the hell brings you to a place like this? I know we had our ups and downs, but really, a biker bar?”

Ups and downs? You swallowed thickly and stared back at him, biting your lip to ground yourself.

“Quentin, you cheated on me. With another woman. All the downs came from you, not me. We did not have ups and downs, you did,” you retorted, trying to hide the tremble in your hands. Your heart beated rapidly against your ribcage. “You can’t control where I go and who I go with anymore. You threw that away when you cheated.”

“For the love of-”

“Did it make you feel bad when you cheated on me? Did I even cross your mind for a second? Did those years mean nothing to you?” you spewed, and he stood with wide eyes that began to fill with anger. “You’re gonna say I’m overreacting even though you know I am right.”

Brown eyes flared with anger and he reached out and grasped your bicep tightly, pulling you up from your seat. You quickly pushed him a few feet away and looked for Bucky down at the end of the bar, but dread sank in your stomach as you found the space vacant. Beck grabbed you again, this time with a much firmer grip on your wrist.

“You keeping talking like that and I swear to god Y/n, I’ll-”

But before he could finish his sentence, Beck was ripped away and the tight grip on your wrist was released. Wide eyes focused on Bucky’s back as he stood himself in front of you, acting as a shield from Beck.

Patrons paid Bucky no attention, merely moving out of the way to give him more area. Beck, who had landed on his rear, pushed himself up to his feet and stood up to meet Bucky, unprepared for the height advantage Bucky had on him.

“Oh please, Quentin, I beg you to finish that sentence. ‘Cause that’ll give me just about another reason to beat the living shit out of you,” Bucky announced to him, piercing blue eyes narrowed on him.

Your shaking hand touched Bucky’s black shirt, and he immediately snuck a hand behind his back  and you quickly latched onto his hand. Beck noticed, it only made him angrier.

“You talk about me cheating, bitch? Yet here you are, giving yourself to a biker nonetheless, whore.” You trembled at his venom laced words.

Bucky’s hand was ripped out of yours and you looked up to see Bucky punch Beck right in the nose. You clasped your hands over your mouth as patrons around the three of you cheered and applauded.

Natasha and Sam came running out to see Bucky leaning over Beck, who was nursing a bloody nose. Natasha made her way over to you, placing an arm on your shoulder as she looked to see if you were okay.

Though Sam did nothing but watch with a gleeful smirk as Bucky grabbed Beck by the collar of his jacket and whispered in his ear, “You come near her again or call her anything other than her name, and I swear to god I’ll make your life a living hell. If she so much as sheds a single tear, it’s over for you, Beck. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good. Now get the fuck out of my bar.”

You couldn’t hear what Bucky said, but you watched and took your hand away with surprised eyes as Bucky released beck and stood up, wringing his hand out. It was only then did you notice the irritated skin of his knuckles.

“Are you okay?” You tore your gaze from Bucky to Natasha, her hands smoothing over your sweater and your bruising wrist.

“I’m okay, Nat,” you mumbled, though you weren’t sure if it was entirely true. You were expecting a night with your best friend but instead saw the one person you dreaded seeing. Bucky made his way over to you, looking to see if you were okay, but you caught his hand in your grasp. “You’re bleeding, Bucky.”

He didn’t feel the stinging of the minor knicks on his knuckles, but he took a glance at the bruising skin of your wrist. “And you’re bruisin’ up, doll. Let me put some ice on that.”

You nodded and allowed him to lead you away from the busy bar to the back office, not before scooping some ice into a cup. He led you to sit on the small couch he kept in the office, and as he sat down next to you, he rolled up your sleeve and pressed the ice against your skin.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked quietly, and you sighed, blinking away the tears that formed at your waterline. You didn’t feel okay, but with Bucky next to you, in the moment, you felt more than okay.

Nodding your head, you fully expected him to get up and return to the bar, but he stood himself still in his seat next to you. “Thank you for what you did.”

Bucky shook himself and caught your gaze. “You don’t have to thank me, doll. I didn’t like how he was holding onto you. I’m sorry about my temper, but once he called you all those horrible things, I couldn’t help myself. You deserve someone who will treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”

He wiped away the tears that leaked out of your eyes and you grasped his forearm in appreciation. “Thank you, Bucky.”

The two of you sat while he continued to hold the ice to your wrist. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your arm, goosebumps littered your arms and you felt yourself leaning into his embrace.

“Do you think that maybe, whenever you find yourself ready again, I could maybe take you out on a date?” Bucky asked a moment later.

A heat spread across your face as you looked at him. Cerulean eyes stared back at you and a soft smile lit up your face. After a nasty breakup with Beck, you hadn’t even considered anyone else.

But spending the evening talking to Bucky, feeling the fluttering butterflies in your stomach from someone who genuinely made you smile, made you feel something, it was hard to not have some sort of attraction to him.

So, you looked up at him and nodded, “Yeah, I would really like that.”

It would be okay, you decided as Bucky pressed a kiss to your knuckles. Maybe a little rocky to start, but eventually everything would be okay.

Afterall, you had a tattooed biker at the end of the tunnel, waiting for you.

Yeah, everything is gonna be okay.

Part 2

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #biker!bucky

[crazyunsexycool]

Heart’s Munition

Chapter 4

Pairing: Mob boss!Steve Rogers x Maid single mom!reader

Word count: 6.9k

Warnings: mentions of blood, hospital visits, mentions of a seizure, Elijah being a lil shit (in a cute way of course),

Series Masterlist

“Where is she?” Steve demanded an answer through gritted teeth.

“She’s resting in her room.”

“Why didn’t anyone call me sooner?”

Steve took the stairs two at a time. He was furious and someone would be paying for this soon enough.

“You had that meeting with Hansen. If I remember correctly you said to not disturb you because you wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. Also the doctor was with her anyway.” Bucky said as he followed Steve up the stairs.

Steve didn’t knock, he just slammed the door open. Peter sat at the foot of the bed and jumped at the sound.

“What the fuck?” You said as you walked out of the bathroom. “Can you be more careful?”

“Who did this?” Steve ignored your question and looked from Peter to Nat, who was reluctantly laying in bed.

She had been cornered while she was alone. Now Nat was a good fighter, even one of Steve’s best. She also had gained his trust a long time ago, along with Bucky and Sam. So whoever did this knew her abilities to defend herself and still managed to get the upper hand. That wasn’t good, it meant his people were being watched.

“You know who it was. They were sending a message. If they can get to us, they can get to you.” Nat said between pained breaths. She looked bad. Black and blue bruises all over her face and chest. She had a cut lip and a few scratches as well as one eye shut due to the swelling.

“We’re going to send a message back. Do you know who actually did it?”

“It was Quentin Beck.” That was all Steve needed to hear before he was out the door. Bucky again followed closely behind.

“Do you need anything else Nat?”

“I’d like to sit up a bit more.”

“Sure thing. Peter, come help me.” You moved around the bed and helped her sit up while Peter added some pillows behind her.

“Thanks. Peter, could you get me my gym bag, it’s in the trunk of my car.”

“Sure thing.”

Peter hurried out of the room and Nat looked over at the nightstand and then around the room.

“Have you seen my phone?”

“You didn’t have a phone on you when you were brought in.”

“Fuck. Ok, you need to tell Steve they probably have my phone. Go.”

You say a quick ok as you hurry down the stairs and into the hallway that leads to Steve’s office. He’s yelling orders, you can hear his voice by the stairs. It takes you knocking a few times before Sam opens the door. The tension in the room is palpable.

“What?” Steve snaps.

“Nat wanted me to tell you that she thinks they have her phone.”

“Fuck. We have to go now. Someone call Jensen and Stark, let them know they need to burn the phone.”

Everyone starts walking out and you ask them to be safe. You close the door before Steve can walk out and the glare he sends your way would make anyone flinch but you don’t.

“Get out of my way.”

“Listen I know you’re angry but you need to calm down.”

“Calm down? Are you serious? One of the people I swore to protect almost died and you’re asking me to calm down?”

“Yes.” You say in a soft and almost sweet voice. “If you go out there blinded by rage how many more people will end up hurt? They’re already pissed enough as it is, you can’t afford to lose anyone else.”

You see his demeanor change slightly. He’s still angry but he’s reigning it in.

“Also if anyone else ends up hurt I’m going to be pissed as fuck.”

The corner of his mouth lifts a little. The smile is barely there but you’ll take it.

“Even if it's me?” He asks.

“Meh- depends on how injured you are.”

He smiles this time but it’s gone just as quickly.

“Be safe out there and make sure you kick some ass.”

“You’ll take care of her for me?”

“You know it.”

Steve nods in your direction before walking out and you sigh. It was barely morning and the chaos of it all was already giving you a headache. But you marched up the stairs again and checked up on Nat one more time before starting on your regular duties.

When your work day ended you waited about half an hour and no sign of Steve or his men. Dom and Coulson both nagged until you left.

You had been asleep for maybe half an hour when your phone rang. With Eli getting worse you were sleeping less. So you were in a bad mood as you answered the phone.

“What?” You didn’t even know who you snapped at.

“I’m sorry for calling at this time but we need you at the house.”

“Coulson? What happened?”

“I’ll tell you when you get here. You’ll be getting paid four times your regular pay.”

“Uh- I need… I need a few minutes.”

“That’s fine. Dom will pick you up.” He didn’t wait for you to reply.

“Fuck.” You mutter as you dial Mrs. Fields number and ask her to stay with Elijah.

****

“What the fuck happened?” Your eyes grew wide as you took in the living space. There was blood everywhere. The floor, the walls and the furniture. It’s like the fight had happened right there.

“They just got back not too long ago. No one is seriously injured but we need to get rid of the blood. Boss only trusts you and that you won’t say anything.”

“Of course not. Before I start with the cleaning, does anyone need anything?”

“Probably some steady hands. The adrenaline is wearing off by now. They’re taking care of their wounds.” Coulson informs you as he nods towards Steve’s office.

****

“It’s gonna hurt baby but I’ll be quick.”

“I’ve heard that before.” You hear Bucky say with a chuckle.

“You guys are together?” You ask from the door.

Both Sam and Bucky turn to the door, the latter turning red immediately. Sam just gives you a small smile.

“You didn’t know?” Sam asks.

“Didn’t have a clue, you guys are cute together.”

“You hear that babe, we’re cute together.”

“I knew that already Samuel.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Anyways, what are you doing here?”

“Doing what I always do, cleaning up your messes. But I wanted to check in to see if anyone needed anything.”

“We’re good here but maybe check in on Steve. He’s up in his room. The other guys are in the kitchen.” Sam says and you just nod and leave them be. You can hear them saying sweet nothings to each other and can’t help but smile.

As you walk back out toward the living room you see Clint and Scott on one of the couches. They were beaten and bloodied too and they were getting the couch dirty. You sent a worried glance in their direction but they just waved you off as they rummaged through the first aid kit. On the stairs there were drops of blood everywhere and they led all the way to the third floor, Steve’s floor. It made you wonder how bad it had been and if this was a win or a loss for him.

You knocked at the door, where you could see a smudge of blood on the doorknob. There was no answer so you knocked again and still nothing. Worry settled into the pit of your stomach at the thought that he may be passed out on the floor. You open the door and call out his name but nothing. His clothes are on the floor by the bathroom and you hurry over and knock but don’t really wait for a response.

“Steve, are you o-oh my god! I’m so sorry.” You turn around and cover your eyes when you realize his state of undress.

“Y/N, It’s ok I have sweats on.”

“Still I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to barge in on you like this. It’s just you didn’t respond and I saw the blood so I thought you needed help.” You rushed out.

“It’s really ok, you can turn around now.”

You drop your hand and turn around, he does in fact have sweats on. How had you not noticed? More importantly, how had you not noticed the injuries he had? The longer you stare the more you realize he has tattoos all over.

“What the hell happened?” You rushed over, completely forgetting the embarrassing moment just seconds ago.

“A fight.”

“Yeah but everyone looks like shit. Did you lose?”

“Not really.”

“Well if this is you winning I don’t want to see you losing.” You say as you look up at him. “Let me get the first aid kit.” You turn and head to where Steve keeps the first aid kit. “Sit.” You motion for him to sit on the countertop.

“Why here?”

“Because my back hurts and this will be easier to reach the cuts.”

He just nods and sits where you told him to. Steve’s breathing is even until you touch him around his ribs. You think it’s because there’s pain but he knows better. The light touch of your fingers on his skin sends shivers down his spine and although he’s imagined your hands on him it was never like this.

“Steve?”

“Sorry what?” He looks down at you.

“I think you might have a concussion or some type of head injury.”

“No, I was just thinking about what needs to happen next. I’m fine.” He says but really he was thinking about how your touch would feel everywhere else on his body.

“Ok well this is going to hurt.”

You work silently the next few minutes, cleaning and bandaging him up. During the whole process you feel his eyes on you. Every move you make he watches silently.

“Ok, all done.” You put away all of the supplies and make a mental note to have Coulson refill it. “I should go and get started.”

“Thank you, for everything.”

“Of course. Call me if you need anything and please rest.”

“Doctor’s orders?” He teases and you level him with your best mom glare. “Fine. I’ll rest. Maybe I should have put you out there to interrogate people.”

“The house would be less bloodied.” You murmur before pointing at the bed. “In bed, now.”

“Ok mom.”

You laughed because he sounded so childish but you noticed the way his eyes softened as you did. Like you instructed Steve laid in bed but grabbed his phone and made some calls. There was more to be done and Quentin Beck still needed to answer for what he did.

You made it home right around noon and were beyond exhausted. You dismissed Mrs. Fields and took a quick shower, thankful that Elijah was taking a nap. Instead of going to your couch you scooped him up and cuddled with him as you took a nap of your own.

The afternoon was spent in a daze. Some sleep, some tv and some food while you stayed close to Elijah. At around nine at night you get a text from Coulson telling you to sleep tight. It was code for don't leave your apartment, which meant that whatever was going on with Steve and his enemies was close to where you were.

For most of the night it was fine. You were watching a movie with Elijah but when you turned to tell him something he was slumped to the side. His breathing was shallow and he was non responsive. You panicked and dressed in your pajamas you grabbed him and your purse in order to get to the hospital.

*****

Steve and the rest of his men had taken up residence in the waiting room of the hospital. Everything had gone sideways in a heartbeat and now they were waiting for news for one of their own. He was already anxious enough but the next few minutes would leave him utterly confused.

“Help! Someone please… he’s not breathing.” Steve heard your voice, frantic and desperate as you walked in through the emergency room doors.

Bucky and Sam immediately got up and stood next to him to see what was going on. The last thing they expected was that you were carrying a child.

“Please, help him! He’s not fucking breathing.”

Your second cry for help snapped Steve into action.

“You,” he pointed at a nurse that was taking his sweet time on the phone. “Get your ass up and help her.” He got in the nurse’s face, his voice low and menacing. “If something happens to him I will end you.”

The nurse looked like he was going to shit himself. He rushed over to you as he called out for a stretcher. He asked you a few things before rushing him in to get Elijah breathing again. Steve had to hold you back from running after them.

“It’s ok, He’s getting help. You need to calm down, sweetheart.” He whispered but you still tried to free yourself from him embrace.

“Please he has to be ok.”

“Hey,” Bucky cups your face and wipes away the tears. “He’s going to be just fine.”

“You don’t know that.”

“They’re going to do everything they can, Doll. But we need you to breathe. You have to be ok when he wakes up.”

Bucky grabs your hand and places it on his chest and he takes a quick look at Steve who is still holding you. Both of them match their breathing as Steve softly asks you to do the same and eventually you calm down.

“Sweetheart,” Steve turns you around so that he can look at you. Your eyes are red and your cheeks are tear strained. It breaks his heart to see you like this. “Who is that? Is he your little brother or something.”

By now he had pulled you into the waiting room the rest of his men were at. They all knew you so they were concerned at seeing you so distraught.

“He’s my son.” You say in a low sad voice.

Steve was left speechless and so was everyone else. Never in his life did he imagine you to be a mother but a lot of things clicked into place. He silently told two of his men to move to allow you a seat and of course one next to you for himself. Steve never lets you go though, he keeps you tucked into his side but you’re too upset to notice the closeness.

“You have a son? Since when?” Sam asks.

“Since eight years ago.”

“This isn’t one of those situations where your parents died and you had to take care of your little brother so now you’re technically his mom but not really?” Scott asked really fast. Steve shot him a glare over your head.

“He’s my son, my baby ok. I carried him for nine months in my belly. I have the pictures to prove it or I can show you the video of me pushing him out of my vagina if you want. ” You snapped.

“Sorry, it’s just, you’re so young.”

You rolled your eyes.

“It’s called a teen pregnancy, look it up.” Then you look at him and frown. “I’m sorry Scott I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“Ok that’s enough, everyone out. Except for Bucky and Sam.” Steve ordered, reluctantly the men left.

“Thanks.”

“No problem, sweetheart.”

He’s called you sweetheart three times in the last few minutes but you don’t say anything. Right now you relish having someone at your side. Sitting alone in the waiting room was always the second hardest thing for you to do.

“Do you need us to call someone?” Steve asks and pulls out his phone.

“No.”

“No? Your parents or your son’s father?”

You give him a humorless laugh.

“The latter broke up with me the minute I told him I was pregnant and the former kicked me out when they found out. So no, there’s no one to call.” You sighed, “Wait, maybe Peter? He knows about Eli. So does Coulson and Dom by the way.”

“I’ll call Dom, I’m sure he won’t mind coming in.”

“Wait, where is Peter? I haven’t heard from him all day.” You look from Bucky and Sam to Steve. None of them would look you in the eyes and you sat up straighter. “Why are you even at the hospital?”

“Sweet-“

“Don’t sweetheart me. Why are you here?” You ask again, cutting Steve off.

“He was shot. He’s currently in surgery, that's why we’re here.”

“Bucky what the fuck.”

“Thanks Bucky, at least you had the decency to tell me.” You glare up at Steve.

“I didn’t want to stress you out more than you already were.”

“Family of Elijah Y/L/N?” A nurse calls out from the doorway. Immediately all four of you get up.

“Is he ok?”

“Yes, we got him stabilized and we’ll be moving him to a room. Why don’t you follow me and I’ll take you to him. Only two people at a time though.”

“It’s just me.” You give the nurse a sad smile. You’ve only taken one step when someone grabs your hand.

“And me. Call me when you hear about Peter.”

Steve squeezes your hand to reassure you that he’s there for you. Both of you silently follow the nurse as she brings you to the small room Elijah is in until he’s moved upstairs. The moment you’re behind the closed curtain you rush over to his side. You take his hand and lean down to press a few kisses on his forehead before whispering that you’re there with him. Steve just stands back and watches the scene unfold. His heart aches for you and he wants nothing more than to give you some sort of comfort.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what does he have?” Steve asks after a few minutes of silence.

“The doctors don’t know what’s wrong with him or how to help. He’s been sick for about a year. We’ve tried different medicines but nothing seems to really work. He has his good days but recently it’s been all bad days. ”

You struggle to hold back a sob. Elijah’s health has been declining so quickly that you fear it’s only a matter of weeks or even days before you lose him. Steve gets closer to you and pulls you into a hug. You cling to him like your life depended on it. Even with Mrs. Fields there to help you, you’ve always felt truly alone in life. Somehow it felt different with Steve there.

Steve excuses himself for a moment and disappears outside of the curtain. Just as quickly as he left he comes back and wraps you in another hug.

The sound of the curtain being pulled back has you moving away from him. A young man walks in with a tired smile on his face and lets you know he’ll be moving Elijah. He moves around the space efficiently and soon enough he starts pushing the hospital bed down the hallway. Steve places a hand on your lower back and guides you. He doesn’t stop you from leaning into him while the elevator goes up. Your eyes are half closed when Eli is finally set up in a private room. That wakes you up and you’re quick to protest that you can’t afford a private room.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of it.” Steve tells you.

“What? No way. He’ll be fine in a shared room. There’s no way my insurance will cover this.”

Steve cups your face so that you have to look at him. His expression is stern as he looks at you.

“I don’t like repeating myself, sweetheart. But I will right now. Don’t worry about it, you focus on Elijah. That’s all you have to do, try to rest so that when he wakes up you can be there for him.”

“Fine,” you murmur before looking at the clock on the wall. “I can squeeze in two hours of sleep before I have to be in.”

“Be in where?”

“For work?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Steve mutters, looking st you completely dumbfounded. He has never met anyone that has made him go through so many emotions in such a small time frame.

“No, I have to work. I need the money.”

“Fuck the money, Y/N. As of this moment you are on paid leave and you don’t come back until he’s out of this hospital.”

You shake your head. “I can’t accept that.”

“Well you don’t have a choice.”

You both start whisper yelling at each other now. Steve grabs you by your arm and pulls you outside of the room.

“I do and I’m going into work.”

“And who is going to be here when he wakes up?”

“My neighbor, she’s his sitter when I’m at work.”

Steve rubs a hand over his face. The situation hits way too close to home. The only difference is that now he has the power to do something and he won’t take no for an answer, even if he knows you’re stubborn as hell.

“If you had to choose between you being here or the sitter being here if money wasn’t an issue, which one would it be?”

“Me obviously.”

“And I’m giving you that opportunity. Please, don’t think about work or about your paycheck. I will pay you, I promise. Just be here for him. I promise you there won’t be anything that will make your kid happier than you being the first person he sees.”

Your eyes well up with tears again as you look from Steve to Elijah’s frail form on the bed.

“Ok, but only for a few days and then I’m back at work. I don’t like just taking money, I have to earn it.”

“For fucks sake woman. How about you take a week and then we’ll talk about it.”

“One.”

“This isn’t a negotiation.”

“One day and I’m back at work.”

“Five.”

“Two.”

“Three,” he gives an exasperated sigh before shaking his head. “Three days and we will talk before you even think about working again.”

“Fine. Also you have to let me know how Pete is doing.”

“Deal. So is this what Peter found out when I had him follow you.”

You nod as you walk into the room. At the other end there was a window seat that doubled as a bed. There was a pillow and a blanket already folded and ready for use.

“I begged him not to tell you.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want anyone to threaten Eli so that they could use me against you. I don’t want to put him at risk, I take a long way home just to make sure I’m not being followed.”

Steve’s hands were on his hips as he listened to you. That wasn’t something you should have to worry about when all you were doing was working to try and give your son a chance to live.

“Why not work somewhere else?”

“Because people don’t like to hire single mothers. Before I started working for you I had to work two to three jobs and I barely ever saw him. When I found the job posting as a maid I just went for it. It was enough that I could quit the other jobs and even get an apartment. But then he started getting sick and well here I am.”

He just nodded. It felt like he was watching memories from his childhood replaying right in front of him.

“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me or anything. I’ve managed just fine.”

“I don’t feel sorry for you. I admire you even more now.” Steve says. “Get some rest, I’m gonna head back to wait for news on Peter and Dom will be here in the morning. Anything you need he’ll get it for you.”

“Thank you.”

Steve just offers a small smile and walks out.

By day break Steve was already back on his way to the room Elijah had been set up in. He had some coffee and breakfast for you, as well as good news about Peter. Thinking you’d be awake he was already calling your name as he walked in.

“Y/N, the surgery was a success.” He stopped in the middle of the room when he realized you were asleep beside Eli’s bed. He frowned when he saw you hunched over sitting on a chair while holding your son’s hand.

Steve was surprised to find your son looking back at him. He placed the coffee and breakfast down on a table and moved the other side of the bed.

“Hi Elijah, how are you feeling kid?”

“Are you my doctor? You don’t look like one.” Eli asked in a hushed voice as he sized up Steve. He looked frail but tough.

“No, I’m your mom’s friend.”

“Wrong.” Elijah furrowed his brows. “My mom doesn’t have friends. And she doesn’t have a boyfriend either, so you’re not that.”

Steve chuckled but then cleared his throat when he saw Elijah was glowering at him.

“Well I’m sure she does have friends. But anyways, you can call me Steve and I'm your mom’s boss.”

“Oh, and you brought her breakfast?”

“Yeah. Is that bad?”

Eli shook his head. “No, but I’ve heard mom tell Mrs. Fields you’re an ass. So that was nice of you.”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh at that. Elijah was a little copy of you, especially that mouth of his.

“So how are you feeling bub?” Steve sat down as he waited for an answer.

Elijah looked from Steve to you and back. A certain kind of sorrow that no eight year old should ever experience crossed his eyes.

“My tummy hurts and so does my head. But really I’m worried about ma.”

Steve’s eyes softened as they looked your way.

“She’s barely been sleeping. I know she checks in on me while I sleep. And I know that she was probably really scared last night.” His lower lips trembled. “And I’m scared too.”

Steve’s heart ached for this kid. He knew exactly how he felt, having to spend so many nights in the emergency room with his own mother.

“Scared of what?”

“That I won’t get better and then ma is gonna be all alone.”

If mob bosses cried this is where it would happen. Steve had to look away for a moment and compose himself.

“Well, I’m not going to let that happen. I’m gonna make sure you see the best doctors available. But I need you to promise me something.”

“What?”

“That you’re not gonna give up. Even when you’re in pain or extra sick, you’re gonna keep fighting.”

“I promise.”

“Good.” Steve smiles. “Now, how about you wake her up and I’ll have the food reheated.”

“Ok.”

Steve stood up and grabbed everything. Just as he headed toward the door he could hear Elijah calling you softly. With a look over his shoulder he could see him gently caressing your face.

****

You stirred from your very uncomfortable sleeping position and were greeted with a very happy Elijah.

“Eli.” You smiled as you sat up and stretched. Immediately you felt the ache in your body from having fallen asleep the way you did. It didn’t matter though, your sweet boy was awake and that’s all you could ask for. “How long have you been awake?”

“A while.”

“Then let me get a nurse.”

“One already came by. I asked her not to wake you up. She didn’t say much, just that everything looked fine.”

“Ok, well I’ll ask when someone comes back. Did they say you can have breakfast?”

“Yeah, it will get delivered at the regular time.” Eli nods.

“Ok good.”

You smile again at him and stand to kiss his forehead. As you pull back you hear footsteps and assume it’s a nurse.

“Good you’re up.” Steve says as he stroll in. “Got you breakfast.”

You just looked at him for a moment. Surprised by the kind gesture you give him a quick thank you before taking what was in his hand.

“Elijah, this is my boss.”

“Steve, I know.”

“It’s Mr. Rogers to you.” You corrected.

“I told him he could call me Steve.”

“When did this conversation happen?”

“While you were drooling on your arm.” Steve teases. You send a playful glare, the exchange making Elijah giggle.

“How is he?”

“The surgery was a success.”

“Oh good.” You breathe a sigh of relief.

“What surgery?”

You looked over at Elijah wondering if you should tell him or not. “Peter got hurt. He had to have surgery but he’s ok now.”

“Oh, can we visit him?”

“I’ll see what we can do.”

There was a little knock on the doorframe and you all turned to see Bucky and Sam. They both had their arms full of bags and smiles on their faces.

“Good morning.” Bucky said as he walked in and proceeded to dump all of his bags on the window seat. “Hey kid.”

Elijah just looked at you waiting for an explanation.

“Eli, this is Bucky. My friend.”

“But-“

“If you finish that sentence you’re gonna be grounded until you’re 30.”

“You never told me you had friends. Why haven’t I met him before?”

“Because we’re new friends, kid. I also work with Steve and we’re best friends.”

“And him?” Eli motions to Sam who was also placing bags on the seat.

“I’m Sam. I’m also friends with your mom and with Steve.”

“What about Bucky?”

Sam and Bucky look at you to see if you were ok with Elijah knowing.

“Sam and Bucky are partners, baby.”

“Like cops or like boyfriends?” Eli asks.

“Like boyfriends.”

“Ma?”

The tone of his voice let you know he was about to destroy you with whatever he was going to say next. You frowned by m but answered anyway.

“Yeah?”

“If guys can have boyfriends now, you’re never gonna get one.”

Sam, Steve and Bucky started laughing and Elijah seemed very happy about it. Even if it was at your expense.

“Do you want your mom to have a boyfriend?” Bucky asks as he looks at Steve with a smirk.

“Maybe, but he’d have to go through me first. And I’m not gonna make it easy for him.”

“And now you have us and we’ll help you.” Sam adds.

“Ok, I think that’s enough about me. What did you guys bring?”

“Gifts.” Bucky announces with a smile. He moves over to the pile of bags and starts to walk some over to the bed. “These are ‘get well soon’ gifts. From your new uncles, kid.”

Elijah’s eyes were wide as he looked through the bags to find legos, remote controlled cars, a drone, another video game console, more video games and gift cards. He was so excited the nurse had to come in and check on him because his heart monitor was showing an increase in his heart beat.

“Can I keep it?” The question had been directed at you.

All eyes were on you. It wasn’t that you necessarily wanted to take these things away, you just wanted Eli to learn that not everyone would be as giving. To not expect everyone to just give him stuff, that sometimes he would have to work for what he wanted. Before you could say anything Steve caught your eye. He nodded with a small smile, silently telling you to let Eli keep everything.

“Of course you can, baby. You heard uncle Bucky. They’re ‘get well soon’ gifts. Now what do we say?”

“Thank you.” Eli beams.

“You’re welcome.”

Bucky and Sam move to sit beside him and the three of them start playing with some of the toys that are already on the bed.

“We’ve lost them.” Steve says jokingly as you walk to stand beside him.

“They’re gonna teach Eli everything I don’t want him to know aren’t they?”

“Yup.”

“I'm going to completely blame this on you.” You quip.

“I’ll take full responsibility. But while we’re here, I had them bring you some things too, so that you can freshen up if you want.”

Steve had started motioning for the other bags on the seat across the room when the monitors attached to Elijah started beeping erratically. He slumped backwards and he was unconscious on the bed.

“Get the toys off the bed.” You tell Sam and Bucky. The four of you move quickly and remove the last toy just as the nurses and a doctor walk in.

“Get them out of here.” A doctor instructs, referring to you and the guys.

Steve puts his arm around your waist and pulls you out of the room while you fight to stay beside Elijah.

“They need their space to work.” He mutters in your ear.

You stop trying to get out of his hold, it’s the only thing that’s keeping you up at the moment. Steve turns you away from the hospital room and into himself. Your silent tears make their way onto his dress shirt but neither you nor him seem to care.

“Ms. Y/L/N.” A doctor calls out as someone wheels out Elijah. “We are taking him to have some scans done but at the moment we think he may have suffered a seizure.”

“A seizure? But why is it happening?”

“It's only a possibility that it’s a seizure. We’ll do our best to find out what’s going on. We’ll bring Elijah back in about an hour or so.” He says before he walks away.

You just stood there, trying to process what you’ve just been told. This was just another symptom in a long list of things that had been happening to your son.

The men looked at each other unsure of what they should do. It was heartbreaking on so many levels. First, seeing a child so sick and with no answers was enough to soften the heart of most. Second, you yourself were fairly young and having to go through something like this wasn’t easy. Add to it that you were working for a very dangerous man and it added to your stress. Third, you were all alone from what they had learned. Well not anymore, I’m that moment Steve had decided that he was going to be there for you no matter what. He didn’t know that Sam and Bucky had spoken about the matter as well and they were willing to provide you support in whatever capacity you needed it. Whether it be emotional, physical or financial. Right now it was emotional and Bucky was the first to move and bring you into a hug and let you cry into his chest.

3 days.

That’s how long you had been in the hospital. 3 days and still no closer to any answers. Elijah was stable enough to be discharged and around noon Sam was waiting in front of the hospital in an SUV to take you home. He had already packed up everything for you the night before and taken it down to the house, all you had to do was walk down with Elijah and the nurse that was pushing the wheelchair he was in.

“There he is.” Sam smiled as you walked out the main glass doors. “Ready to leave this place little man?”

“Yeah, I just want to go home.”

Sam looks at you confused. The plan was to stop at your place to grab some things and then stay at Steve’s place for a while.

“Baby, we’re only only going to stop by the apartment so that I can get a few things. We’re staying at Steve’s place for a few days so that I can work.” You remind him.

“Oh ok.”

Sam gives you a sympathetic smile and helps get Elijah in the car before opening the door for you to get in. The drive is quick and before you know it you’re in your apartment grabbing a duffel bag and placing some clothes in there for yourself and Eli.

“Y/N?” You hear from the front door.

“In Eli’s room.”

“There you are child. Who is that man that has Elijah? He didn’t let me get close enough to say hello.”

“That’s Sam, he’s a friend from work.”

“My dear, where are you going? Did something happen to Eli?” She watches as you move around the room.

“Nothing new. My boss said I could stay at the house for a few days and keep Eli with me so I’m just packing a few things.”

“What, couldn't he give you the time off?”

“Yes, he was more than willing to give me the days off but I didn’t want to. So we compromised. I’ll see you in a few days ok. Could you lock the door on your way out? And call me if you need anything.” You say over your shoulder as you walk out and head back to the SUV.

****

Eli fell asleep on the ride to Steve’s place. So when you got there you grabbed him while Sam and Bucky grabbed your things. At the sound of Dom’s voice Steve steps out of his office and heads to the living room to find you with Elijah in your arms. God, you looked exhausted.

“Let me take him.” Steve says in a quiet voice as he grabs Elijah from you.

He nods his head in the direction of the stairs and you follow him up. You had agreed to stay on the second floor but he just walked past the hallways and up another flight of stairs, his floor.

“Steve. I thought we agreed that we would stay on the second floor.” You whisper.

“I changed my mind. I want you close in case you need me.”

He gets to the top of the stairs and heads to the left hallway. It’s still on his floor but there’s some distance. Steve nods towards one of the doors and you open it so that he can walk in. The room is huge as most of the other rooms are. This one has been prepared especially for you though. Elijah’s new gaming systems have been hooked up to the tv. There’s a basket with some self care products in it for you. Some new pajamas for both of you and the other things that Sam and Bucky had bought and taken to the hospital. Everything was neatly arranged and all you had to do was rest. This was a dream and it was why you were against it.

Going back to your small one bedroom apartment is going to be difficult. Especially for Eli since you know everyone will want to come by and spend some time with him. Bucky had even started a schedule so that everyone had time to hang out and not overwhelm him. The only type of support you’ve had since he was born was Mrs. Fields and you weren’t sure if it was that you were tired or your honest gratitude or a mixture of both but you wanted to cry. Actually you did cry, silent tears as you watched Steve lay Eli down and tuck him in. You had never seen him be so gentle and you asked yourself why couldn’t he be Eli’s dad. He would be a great father, you just know it.

“C’mere.” Steve startled you out of your daydream as he hugged you. You leaned into it, desperate for any kind of comforting touch. “It’s ok, just let it all out.” He rested his hand on your back and moved it up and down soothingly.

“I’m such a mess, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. Why don’t you take a bath and then a nap. It might help you relax. I’ll have Dom send dinner for you both.”

“Oh it’s ok, I can go down and get it.” You say quickly but Steve just shuts the idea down.

“Nonsense. He already volunteered to do it.”

“Ok.”

Steve smiles and turns you toward the bathroom. “Go relax, you deserve it.”

“Thank you, for everything.” You say over your shoulder.

“It’s the least I can do.”

****

Later that night, before Steve goes into his room he can’t help but check in on you. He knocks softly but with no answer he decides to just open the door. The sight causes his chest to tighten. With the light of the hallway he can just make out your form on the bed fast asleep. Elijah clings to you like a koala with his head on your chest and your arms wrapped around him tight. As if he would disappear if you let him go.

Steve has decided then and there that he will do everything in his power to give you the answers that you so desperately need. The best medical team and treatment to make Elijah better and if you let him he’d give you so much more. But he knows you’re stubborn. He also knows that the way to get you to agree to anything is to include Elijah in it. Steve would be lying if he said that little boy hasn’t already stolen a piece of what he thought was his cold dead heart. But like mother like son and you’d both weaseled your way in there even when he promised himself he wouldn’t let something like that happen again.

Ch 5

Permanent masterlist:

@rebekahdawkins

@cjand10

@nalny5

@Sturchling

@angywritesstuff

@seitmai

@writing-for-marvel

@goldylions

@almosttoopizza

@littleseasiren

@pono-pura-vida

@talesofadragon

@midnightramyeoncravings

@bunnygirlwriter876

@pandaxnieenke

#Hearts Muntion series #mob boss!steve rogers #mob boss!steve rogers x reader #single mom!reader #maid!reader #Steve Rogers x single mom!reader #Steve Rogers au #mob au

[donovan-writes]

Welcome to Quentin Beck x Reader headcannons in spirit of @stephen-writes

(These will be in a gender neutral perspective)

• He likes to spark random dumb arguments like “ducks don’t have ears” and “the earth is flat” just to get a rise out of you for a joke

• If he ever goes too far with a joke he immediately starts trying to make it up. Millions of apologies, millions of different offers like “do you want me to leave you alone?” “Can I get you something?” “Is there any way to make it up?” And he respects any answer you give

• If/When you live together, he will randomly throw pillows at you

•✨an excellent cook✨

• He’s competitive with games

• HE SUCKS AT JUST DANCE BUT HE TRIES SO HARD

• When you cook with him he always does the dishes, he will also fight you on it

• If he ever finds a new song he loves, he immediately tells you and has you listen to it with him. “BABE CHECK THIS OUT YOU’VE GOTTA HEAR IT”

• He makes TikToks of you both (only if you’re comfortable with it)

• When he’s excited he’s bouncing off the walls trying to show you what he’s excited over

• If you’re separated for a while he’s clingy the moment you both meet back up again

• This man tries to be a big spoon for pride but he’s a little spoon

• You guys have game night (board games or video games doesn’t matter) and he is SO aggressive. He loves winning

• When he loses he’s a sore loser in the pouty way, not the “YOU CHEATED” way

• He holds you from behind and kisses your cheek whenever he gets the chance

• He loves car rides with the windows down/sunroof open

• He loves painting and he’s genuinely good at it, just not with portraits it’s mostly landscapes

• He loves partner dancing, by that I mean holding hands and moving quirkily or swaying. He has no clue how to dance

• He gives the cheesiest nicknames. Like he uses “babe” and such but he uses “sugar bear” “honey pie” “sweet cakes” too

#jake gyllenhaal #Quentin beck x reader #quentin beck #x gender neutral reader #Quentin beck x gender neutral reader #Quentin beck headcannons #marvel #marvel headcanons #marvel x readers #spider man far from home #Quentin beck x you #Quentin beck x y/n

[rosepetalsinwinter]

Five Years That Felt Like a Millennium (2) — Bucky Barnes

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x reader

Word count: 7,579

Summary: Baby Girl isn't doing too well after seeing Quentin.

Warnings: illusions and mention of violence, abuse, manipulation, and cheating, self-deprecation, fluff, flirting, angst

Note: I apologize for my absence. The response to the first part has been unbelievable! Thank you all so much. I hope I can do it justice.

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist │Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3

Happy Reading! 💜

Bucky didn't know a person could cry so much. Surely, the body must have surpassed a threshold ages ago for maximum fluid expulsion, but it seemed unlikely. Tears ran unbidden down Baby Girl's face, soaking into her white camisole, still wet from the lake. At least her body no longer wracked with sobs, which was a small accomplishment, he supposed.

He filled a glass with cold water. "Here, drink this."

Baby Girl's movements were almost mechanical as she took measured sips, slowly draining the glass. She stared at her reflection in the crystal, then abruptly stood, making Bucky hastily step back. Barefoot and half-dressed, she made for the front door.

Bucky blocked her path. "Where are you going?"

She went around him and reached for the handle, but Bucky intercepted her just in time, pulling her by the wrist. Her eyes were unfocused and wild, darting this way and that. "Hey!" She froze. "Hey," he said again, softer and with considerably less force. "What's going on in that smart brain of yours, huh? What are you thinking?"

"I need to find Quentin," she gulped. "I need to apologize to him. I need to make things right before he—"

She choked on her words, but Bucky knew her enough by now to predict what she would say next. "Before he what? Before he hurts Sam?"

Her face crumpled. "Maybe if I get down on my knees and beg, he'll forgive me, and things can go back to the way they used to be."

Bucky felt his previous anger return. Quentin Beck was a goddamn asshole because, in the span of a few minutes, he had managed to turn a bright and bubbly soul into an inconsolable mess.

"Is that really what you want?" he asked. "You want things to go back to the way they used to be?" Bucky already knew Baby Girl's answer, but he felt it was imperative for her to acknowledge out loud.

"No," she croaked. "Not really, but I don't have a choice. Quentin will hurt Sam and his family."

Bucky wiped the fresh tears from her face, letting his hands linger on her cheeks. "And what about you? He's hurting you. Are you not Sam's family?"

Baby girl began crying anew. Bucky carried her to the couch and held her close, letting her tears run down his bare skin. They sat like that until her breathing eventually evened, and her eyes drooped close. Bucky didn't dare move. Baby Girl was cradled in his arms and against his neck, legs stretched on the couch.

His eyes began to close, sleep slowly taking over, and he was going to let it. They both needed rest after the day's events, but sleep wasn't in his fortune. Bucky's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he startled awake, awkwardly maneuvering around to retrieve it without disturbing Baby Girl.

It was Sam. Bucky glanced down at the sleeping form in his arms. Dried tears painted her face, her eyes were puffy, and her nose red. Bucky's heart lurched in his chest, and he made a hasty decision—promise be damned, Bucky would fix this for her.

He answered the call. "Hey, Sam." And told him everything .

"Sam?" Bucky asked, after Sam had been quiet too long.

Sam sounded wretched with grief. "I knew something was wrong. I just never imagined..."

Bucky sighed, already anticipating the blame game. A family trait, he considered. "It's not your fault. Quentin Beck is to blame, and he will pay for his actions, I promise you." Though Bucky couldn't see him, he imagined Sam nodding his frustration. "Do you think you could get in contact with Congressman Lockhart?"

"Congressman Lock—why?"

"He owes me a favour," said Bucky, not mentioning that he had saved Lockhart's life. "How much are you willing to bet that Lockhart has met Quentin Beck before, and that Beck has probably left a less-than-savoury impression on the Congressman?"

"I don't understand."

"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, Sam."

Sam was impressed. "I'll ask Torres to get us in contact."

Bucky smirked, feeling a satisfaction spread over him at the thought of Quentin Beck rotting in a jail cell. "You do that. When do you think you'll be back?"

Baby Girl shifted in his arms, and Bucky softened his voice. "Day after tomorrow? Alright, keep me updated." He ended the call.

"Who was that?" came a groggy voice. Baby Girl's eyes were closed, and she was in the process of waking up.

"Sam," Bucky answered, adjusting her in his arms. "His business is taking longer than usual. He and Sarah will be back in a few days.

Baby Girl pushed away from Bucky, sat up next to him, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes trailed to his chest and widened in mortification. "Shit, I'm so sorry. I drooled all over you."

When she reached over to wipe him clean, he grabbed her wrist. "Why do you make it a habit to apologize for things out of your control?"

She suddenly jerked away from him, putting ample space between them. "I can hardly help how I feel. If I feel sorry, I apologize."

"Well, don't." Bucky stretched his legs, groaning at the relief. "I'm a grown man," he teased, wiping his chest with the back of his hand. "I can handle a little drool."

Baby girl looked down at her palms, forlorn and despondent. "I'm a mess," she muttered.

"Yes, you are," Bucky responded quietly. She jerked her head in surprise, expecting him to dispute her. But she didn't need his false reassurances any longer. Bucky wanted the full weight of her circumstances bearing down on her so she might escape from the haze of melancholy and finally fight back.

Bucky looked out the window at the setting sun. It cast a beautiful golden glow over the two of them. "You should change into something comfortable," he told her. "There's a lot to talk about."

"Quentin was in one of my electives at school." Baby Girl was freshly showered and changed, wearing Bucky's sweats because she was out of clean clothes. They were enormous on her frame, which suited her well.

Bucky had also changed and was sitting across from her on the kitchen table, a warm cup of tea in his hands. It was something floral with a bitter note. He took his plain while she drowned hers in honey.

"Abnormal Psychology," she continued, "which is ironic because I diagnosed him with narcissism a few years into our relationship. I never told him, obviously. It wouldn't have ended well."

The conversation—long overdue—produced a painful pit in Bucky's stomach. He recognized it as suppressed rage, slowly building in potency and power. Bucky took a large sip of his tea, letting it burn his tongue so he might focus on anything other than the need to punch Beck's face.

"I tripped over his bag. He helped me up; apologized, and asked me to dinner."

Bucky couldn't help how bitter he sounded. "And you said yes."

She looked at him with dead eyes. "I wish I had. Then my life wouldn't have turned into a Shakespearean tragedy."

"That seems a bit bleak," Bucky snorted.

"But isn't it?" she implored. "Bleak? He was my first serious boyfriend; I moved in with him after two weeks and quit my job after a month. He didn't say 'I love you' until I threatened to leave him when I found out he was cheating. I pretended to look the other way when I found another girl's bra in our bed. I laughed when I saw lipstick stains on his collar. I gave him my virginity on my birthday, the day after I found out he cheated on me again. If that isn't bleak, if that isn't a tragedy, then what is? Perhaps it's the fact that I made excuses for him the first time he hit me. I told myself he was aiming for the wall, and I got in the way of his fist, but let's be honest, I was deluding myself."

Baby girl took a deep breath and dug her nails into the table. Her previous sorrow was replaced with unbridled anger. "I recognized all the signs. I knew he was using me—manipulating me! He even said so himself. We were at a party, and his friend said I was 'quite something.' Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean! Quentin said, 'She is, isn't she? But I gotta tell you, I'm not with her for that brain of hers.' I was standing right next to him! He and his friends undressed me with their eyes, and I just stood there and smiled!"

Bucky felt his rage simmering—at Beck, at the situation, at her . "Why are you blaming yourself? It's not your fault!"

Baby Girl pushed away from the table and paced around. "Don't!" she shouted. "Nothing you say will make this okay, Bucky. Nothing you say will make what I did okay!"

Bucky stood up as well, breathing heavily. He had known her less than a week but already felt burning concern on her behalf. "And what did you do?"

"Nothing!" she screamed, and her shrill voice echoed throughout the empty house. "I did nothing! Quentin threatened Sam, then once Sam blipped, he threatened Sarah and the boys, and I knew it wasn't a bluff because he had the connections to back him up. I knew, because I'm the one who helped him get those connections in the first place!"

Bucky sucked in a quick breath. "What connections?" Baby Girl had calmed somewhat after her brief yet brutal rant, and she sat down at the table, sipping her tea.

"What connections!" Bucky almost shouted.

Baby Girl startled. "I don't know! Businessmen, stockbrokers, a lot of Wall Street types. They paid attention to him when he had a pretty girl on his arm."

"Was that all?" Bucky probed.

Baby Girl shook her head. "There were a lot of government officials, too. I told you, remember? FBI, CIA, Homeland Security, Senators, UN spokespersons, congressmen, federal court judges—"

"Repeat that."

"Federal court—"

"No!" Bucky interrupted again. "What you said before."

"Congressmen?" Baby Girl huffed in annoyance. "I don't understand why that stood out to you the most. Are federal court judges not impressive enough for you, Bucky?"

Bucky ignored her snark and sat across from her. "Do you happen to know a Congressman Lockhart?"

Baby Girl paused before taking a sip from her cup. "Surprisingly, yes. Mr. Lockhart left a lasting impression when he didn't try looking down my dress every few minutes or shoving his hand up my leg."

"That's disgusting," he frowned.

"That's life," Baby Girl retorted. "Trust me, I had it better than most women."

Bucky shook his head, hating how she downplayed her struggles. "That's not okay."

Baby Girl scoffed without heat. "Like things were so much better in the forties. Right, Sergeant Barnes?"

Bucky ignored any feelings the utterance of his title from her lips brought forth. "I didn't stand for that then, and I don't stand for it now."

Thankfully, she seemed to have mercy on him and let the topic slide. "He didn't seem to like Quentin much; Lockhart. He asked me a lot of questions, and I think he got suspicious when I couldn't answer anything."

"Like what?"

"Like what I do for work, my interests, how I met Quentin. I couldn't tell him anything without revealing how abusive Quentin was. He especially didn't like it when he found out I was Sam Wilson's adopted kid sister."

Bucky was intrigued. "What did he say?"

"Nothing. He ignored Quentin for the rest of the event, but right before it ended, he pulled me aside and..." she trailed off.

"What?" Bucky encouraged her.

Baby Girl looked at him with shame and guilt swimming in her irises. "Congressman Lockhart told me I was making a mistake. He told me Quentin was using me because of my relation to Sam Wilson. He told me men like Quentin were rotten to the core, and I should run the other way and never look back." She gulped. "I should've listened to him."

Bucky shook his head. "You made a decision. You couldn't have known."

She didn't hear him, seemingly playing the scene in her mind. "Then the strangest thing happened. Congressman Lockhart called a few days later to meet about the project Quentin had proposed. Quentin was ecstatic, as you can imagine. He was overly sweet with me that day." Her brows puckered in confusion. "But I never understood... Why warn me away from Quentin only to cozy up to him later?"

Bucky leaned back in his chair, thinking everything over, connecting the dots. "Congressman Lockhart is a good man," he said. "A good and clever man."

Baby Girl narrowed her eyes. "How do you know him anyway? What does he have to do with anything?"

Bucky hesitated. He didn't want to get her hopes up if his plan didn't work, but he also couldn't watch her beat herself up any longer. This girl, this beautiful and feisty girl, had Bucky wrapped around her fingers since she wrapped her arms around his waist that day on his bike. This girl, who laughed and cried and smiled and was never afraid to voice her opinion. This girl, who looked at Bucky with admiration in her eyes, who looked at his metal arm with gentle curiosity and without any of the disgust or malice he was used to. Who kept her questions light and discrete so as not to unsettle him. This girl, this beautiful and feisty girl, who made Bucky smile.

He would do anything for her. Even if it meant keeping his scheme a secret.

Bucky hesitated, not wanting to lie to her, but finding he had little choice. "I have a plan," he said. "To get rid of Quentin Beck for good."

And Bucky was presented, for the first time since their swim in the lake, a genuine and awe-filled smile, directed entirely at him.

"Lemonade?"

Bucky swam toward the deck, hoisting himself from the lake. Baby Girl was sitting on the edge, letting her bare feet skim the cool water. "You take such good care of me," Bucky teased. He gave a playful shake of his head, sending droplets of water her way.

Baby Girl shrieked and raised her hands to cover her face. "You ass!"

With a chuckle, Bucky leaned back on his elbow, reaching for the drink.

"And to think I brought you sustenance!" Baby Girl pushed a plate of fruit toward him.

Bucky picked up a fruit with a deep purple flesh and examined it with suspicion. "Is this alien food? It looks like something you might find in Asgard."

Baby Girl stared in awe. "You've been to Asgard?"

Bucky was still looking at the teardrop-shaped product. "Not yet," he declared confidently and bit into the flesh. Bucky paused a moment, staring at Baby Girl before taking a larger bite. "What the fuck? Why is it so good?"

Baby Girl laughed. "What, you've never had a fig before?" She grabbed one for herself and showed him a better way to eat it. "You pinch it at the top. Split it open. Fold it over, and voila!" She popped it in her mouth, groaning as flavour burst across her tongue.

"I thought it was some weird kind of plum!" Bucky exclaimed, grabbing another.

"Nope, just a fig."

"Just a fig, she says," Bucky teased. "And what's this?" He threw a shiny orange fruit in the air, catching it just before it smacked Baby Girl in the face.

She took it from him with an unconvincing frown. " This —is a persimmon. You know it's ripe when it's ready to burst. I like to pinch the skin like this—" she demonstrated by making an incision with her teeth, "and suck the flesh." Baby Girl moaned in delight. "I missed this."

Bucky intensely observed her, paying close attention to a drop of persimmon juice on her lip.

"What? Is there something on my face?"

Bucky reached over to wipe the juice with his thumb. "You're a mess," he said hoarsely. Then, he brought his thumb to his mouth and licked it off as she watched him. "It's sweet."

She stared at him, soft lips parted and breaths uneven. "Did you think it would be sour?"

Bucky shrugged and picked up one for himself, following Baby Girl's instructions and getting a proper taste. When he was halfway through his fruit and Baby Girl was still gawking at him, Bucky realized he had taken the flirting a bit too far.

Satisfaction crackled in his muscles, and he twitched out a smirk. It was only a small accomplishment that he had retained some of his frivolous ways, but he was still proud. "What else do you have for me?" he inquired loudly, effectively diverting her.

Baby Girl quickly composed herself, dropping the rest of her persimmon onto the fruit plate. "Watermelon and grapes."

"Does the watermelon change colours, and do the grapes taste like cotton candy?"

"Change colours—No!" Baby Girl gawped. "You have a strong imagination." She suddenly turned thoughtful. "I was thinking of grabbing the cotton candy grapes, though. But they're too sweet for me."

It was Bucky's turn to gawp. "I was being sarcastic. Do cotton candy grapes really exist?"

Baby Girl smiled. "They've been around a while. I'll get you some next time."

Bucky reclined on his elbow, resting his head in his hand. "Next time. I like the sound of that." He caught her eye and asked her the burning question. "So, you've decided to stay?"

Baby Girl pushed the empty glasses and fruit tray away, lying back on the deck. From this angle, with Bucky hovering over her, the sun didn't burn her eyes. She smiled a sad smile. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"You always have a choice," Bucky replied fervently. "We would never keep you against your will."

Baby Girl shook her head. "That's not what I meant. Quentin will always find me. He's possessive of his things."

"You're not a thing . And he doesn't deserve you."

"Maybe I deserve him."

Bucky looked into her bright eyes, thinly veiled with tears. He understood the feeling of helplessness—the intense guilt that followed. Even now, after being pardoned and making amends, Bucky couldn't stop guilt from seizing him in the dark hours of the night, when he was most vulnerable and exposed.

He often looked around and wondered if he deserved the life he had been given, this second chance that none of his victims had the fortune of. On more of a surface level, Bucky understood he was as much a victim as any other. A prisoner in his own body. He, and he alone, knew the struggle he had put up for almost twenty years before finally succumbing.

Bucky looked into her bright eyes, thinly veiled with tears, and saw himself reflected in them. He saw himself as a younger man—a better man—waging a war against invisible demons, and he understood. Trauma left its presence in various ways, and the evidence of it was scattered all across her vulnerable physique.

Bucky reached for a strand of her hair. "Sometimes, the hardest prison to escape from is the one we build in our own minds."

Baby Girl turned her head to look up at the sky. "That sounds like something you'd hear at the therapist's."

"And I'm giving it out for free," Bucky smiled.

They both said nothing for a short while, enjoying the sun, and soaking each other's company.

"He used to tell me I was beautiful every day." Her brows creased. "Well, not exactly. He never called me beautiful. He called me hot, and sexy, and fire—" she suddenly scoffed. "I hated that. 'You look fire.' One day, even that stopped. I remember thinking he didn't love me anymore because that's what attracted him in the first place."

Bucky played with her hair, letting her say what she needed to.

"Objectively, I know I'm attractive. I was told often enough by his friends. But I haven't felt pretty in a long time. And it disgusts me that I needed his validation to feel good about myself." Baby Girl took a deep breath, shaking slightly from the overload of emotions. "Sorry."

Making sure she was looking at him, Bucky leaned his head down and kissed the corner of her mouth. Her skin was soft and warm, and he lingered a moment longer than necessary. "You're beautiful," he murmured, savouring her sweet scent. "Absolutely gorgeous."

Baby Girl stiffened under him, eyes widened with surprise, soft lips parted in exhale. She blinked furiously, grabbing her necklace in a white-knuckled grip—a dainty gold crescent moon with black detailing. "I feel very hot," she croaked.

Indeed, Bucky could hear her heart furiously pumping blood through her veins due to his risky kiss. He bent down and placed another, dangerously closer to her lips than the previous. "Let's cool you down then," he smirked, grabbing her around the waist and launching both of them into the lake.

He lost his hold on her as they submerged in the cool water. Bucky kicked off the bottom and broke the surface, looking around for her. Baby Girl emerged a moment later, mascara lines running down her cheeks and brows creased in a furious frown.

She wiped her face and scoffed, "You absolute ass!" When Bucky laughed at her, she splashed him with a large swell of water, which went into his mouth. He choked and sputtered between laughter, welcoming her gentle abuse with a large smile.

"You said you were hot," he rationalized. "I only wanted to cool you down."

Baby Girl intensified her attack, wading closer until she was on top of him, attempting to submerge his head. "You idiot!" she yelled. "My clothes are all wet!"

"Pity," Bucky sputtered, trying to grab hold of her, but she was relentless in her assault, flailing her limbs in reckless abandon.

"Die!" she shrieked, managing to clamber on top of him. She wrapped her legs around his neck and pushed him under, painfully pulling at his roots in the process.

All this time, Bucky could've easily subdued her. But where was the fun in that? When her legs tightened a smidge too much, and Bucky could no longer breathe, he finally put an end to their little game. He clasped his hand around her ankle and gave a gentle pull. Baby Girl fell from his shoulders with a dramatic scream, and realizing she had far surpassed his patience, began to swim away.

Bucky grabbed her ankle once more, keeping her in place. "You brat," he hissed. "I'll teach you a lesson."

Her panicked laughter brought a large smile to his face. Seeing her happy because of him; after the horrible week she'd had, filled Bucky with indescribable pride.

"No!" she giggled. "No more. I'm tired." In fact, she had stopped swimming and was struggling to stay afloat.

Bucky lifted her into his arms, ignoring her feeble protests. "That's enough games for today," he announced, carrying her dripping body inside.

After drying themselves and changing, they settled in the kitchen for dinner. Baby Girl sat on the island with her head resting on her arms, watching Bucky cook.

"Where did you learn that?" she asked when he expertly chopped onions without looking.

Bucky shrugged. "My Ma taught me the basics when I was little. She said cooking was a survival skill."

The girl smiled. "Smart woman."

"That she was," he sighed. "I learned some more in the army. Then, after I was pardoned, I found all this time on my hands and all these cuisines I wanted to try. YouTube is very handy for that."

"That it is." She walked to his side, watching him saute shrimp for the pasta. "You sure you don't want me to help?"

"Yeah, you sit your pretty ass down and relax."

"Yes, Chef!" Baby Girl saluted, not bothering to sit. She exclaimed in delight when Bucky flipped the pan one-handed.

"Wanna see something cool?" he smirked, grabbing a bottle of Cognac from the pantry. "Step back."

Baby Girl shuffled back, and Bucky poured some Cognac into the saucepan. He was so focused on the task that he didn't notice Baby Girl inch closer. Bucky tilted the pan, letting it catch fire, and a beautiful flame blazed powerfully in front of him. He turned, wanting to see her reaction.

She stepped away with a shout, arms raised to protect her face. The flame fizzled away as quickly as it had ignited, but she was still shaking in fear. She fell against the island counter, sliding to her knees.

Bucky turned off the stove and sank next to her, grabbing her arms. "What's wrong?" he worried. "Are you hurt?"

Eyes shut tight, she shook her head, but she was still trembling. "I'm okay."

Bucky didn't believe her. He lifted her up and set her on the counter, sliding between her spread legs. "Hey," he soothed. "What happened just now?"

She shook her head, eyes still closed. "I don't know, I—" Baby Girl exhaled shakily, trying to calm down. "I wasn't expecting—I thought. I'm scared of fire," she eventually admitted.

Bucky frowned. He vividly remembered the night of the bonfire, where she chased AJ and Cass around the large fire. There was no hint of fear on her face that night, no discomfort or hesitancy. He told her as such.

"I don't know. I think it's because the bonfire was out in the open. It was controlled and didn't feel as dangerous. But indoor fires..." She left the next part unsaid, but Bucky understood.

His flambé trick took her by surprise at such close proximity. For a moment, she was transported to her childhood home to relive that fateful night. Bucky hugged her tight, soothing her with kind words of affirmation. "You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you."

She clutched tightly onto him, burying her face in his neck, breathing heavily into his ears. "Sometimes I think I was supposed to die that night," she whimpered, making Bucky freeze. "I was supposed to die in that house with my family. But I didn't. I'm scared the past will catch up with me one day to finish what it started."

Bucky held on to her tighter.

"I'm scared I'll find myself in that house again, and no one will be there to push me out the window."

"That won't happen," he promised. "I won't let it."

She briefly said nothing, and Bucky worried he hadn't done enough to reassure her.

"Have you seen the house?" she suddenly asked.

"No," replied Bucky, running his hands through her hair. "But Sam told me it was nearby."

Baby Girl hummed. "It's on the far side of the lake, covered by trees. We shared the lake with the Wilsons. Did you know the house is still there? What's left of it anyway. They fixed the damaged parts and put it up for sale. I found out two years ago."

Bucky pulled away from her, meeting her gaze. "It's been up that long?"

"Longer," she replied. "It went up for sale six years ago, but no one will buy it. Who wants to live in a house where an entire family died?"

Bucky wanted to correct her. "You're not dead," he wanted to shout. "You're not at fault. You deserve so much." 

"If I had the money..." she shook her head and dismissed the thought.

Would she buy the house if she could? he wondered. The home where she grew up and created happy memories with her siblings.

Bucky thought about his house in Brooklyn Heights, which had been turned into a poor excuse of a strip mall. The house where he had sleepovers with Steve. Where Rebecca hosted her friends, and Bucky hid underneath her bed to try and scare them. Where he snuck in his prom date, Dorothy, through his bedroom window when his parents were out of town. The time he and Steve were playing baseball on the street, and Steve hit the ball straight through the front window.

Would he buy that house if he could? If it hadn't been bulldozed? He decided he would. He had the desire, and he sure as hell had the money.

"There's no point in dwelling on the past," he parroted. Occasionally, his new therapist offered advice that Bucky kept close to his heart. "You're alive to see another day. Make the most of it."

Baby Girl smiled softly. "You always know just what to say," she teased. "I will."

Bucky was consoled by her steady heartbeat and easy manner. "It's a god-given talent," he shrugged, instantly rewarded by soft giggles and an unenthusiastic shove at his chest.

Once the adrenaline from the scare dissipated, Bucky finally noticed their proximity. Her thighs were bracketing his, and his arms were caging her body. Their breaths mingled in the air between them.

"You're very modest," Baby Girl croaked, jerking away.

Bucky hastily turned to the stove, turning it on and resuming making dinner. "With good reason," he replied, clearing his throat.

He chastised himself while the shrimps finished cooking. Baby Girl had just gotten out of an abusive relationship. Now was not the time to be sweet on her—hovering so close he could smell her shampoo and the scent of her skin.

Wait. Was she out of an abusive relationship? Baby Girl had emphasized that she was only with Quentin because he threatened Sam, Sarah, and the boys. Except, that was no longer an issue as a plan was underway. Bucky knew it, Sam knew it, but did Quentin? Did Quentin assume that his dismissal from the Wilson Residence a few days prior was a fluke? If Quentin returned thinking he could whisk her away as if she owed him anything, he would be sorely mistaken. Bucky would make sure of it.

But where did that leave them? There was obvious attraction—though Bucky was unsure if it was appropriate to act on, considering the circumstances—and they were legal adults, but the path forward felt very unclear. While Baby Girl hadn't shown any unpleasant reactions to Bucky's past, she hadn't particularly reassured him either that it did not bother her. Was it fair to her to be caught up in his mess, along with her own?

So many questions, and yet the answers felt out of reach. Bucky turned around. Baby girl was sitting on the kitchen table, and she gave Bucky a smile that answered at least one question. 

Did she trust him? Her smile said, "Yes. Yes, she did."

Another day passed like all the others. Had it really been over a week since she arrived in Louisiana? Sam and Sarah were still away on "business," and the boys were still at their sleepover—ridiculous really—she knew it was summer break, but there had to be a limit. She and Bucky were still alone together.

Bucky. His name made her burn with embarrassment. Lately, anything and everything related to him made her temperature rise a few degrees. His smile, his presence, his proximity . His hands holding her tight to his chest. Embarrassment always closely followed such thoughts, though for reasons that deeply ashamed her because never, in the entirety of her relationship with Quentin, did she feel like this. Beautiful, and desired, and wanted, and free . Happy.

She had invested around six to seven years in her on-again, off-again relationship with Quentin Beck and never managed to blush as furiously as she did in the presence of Bucky Barnes. The White Wolf. War hero. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

While most girls gushed over Captain America in high school, Baby Girl cut out pictures of his best friend from her textbook and plastered them inside her locker. It was a stupid girl crush, one she quickly outgrew as she matured into a young woman. However, the fascination remained. During the past week, this fascination had transformed from a small, barely there spark to a blazing fire. The gruesome analogy was not lost on her, yet it was the only way to vividly describe her deepening feelings.

Bucky Barnes had lit her heart on fire. And that terrified her. Not because she was afraid of men after her relationship with Quentin, and not because of Bucky's unfortunate past, but because of her unfortunate reality. What did she have to offer a man like Bucky Barnes? She had nothing. No job, no prospects, no backbone with which to confidently regard the world. She had spent six years with an abusive man, and she could have left at any moment—could have gathered the courage to trust her brother Sam to take care of all of them. She hadn't taken the opportunity when presented with it, and there was this man, who hadn't been given any semblance of reprieve, and he was stronger for it.

So, no. While there was obvious attraction between them both, she was not sure it was appropriate to act on. She could never deserve the likes of him.

The path ahead was unclear, but somehow she knew he would be there to guide her. And when he chucked her into the lake that evening, laughing loudly at her temper, she smiled back, hoping her face screamed, "I trust you. I do." 

After an uneventful dinner, Bucky sheepishly announced he had to leave. "I forgot I promised Carlos I'd help with his car."

She raised an unimpressed brow, fixing him with a stern look. He had promised to take her shopping for a new phone, and while she wasn't looking forward to a ride on his death trap, she really wanted her games back. "I didn't know you were a mechanic along with being a war hero."

"I'm not a war hero," he responded mechanically.

The words burst from her lips. "If it weren't for you," she snapped, "Doctor Zola would've been on his merry way to design new techniques to destroy the human race. You stopped him. If that's not heroic, I don't know what is."

"I'm not a war hero," Bucky said again after getting over the initial shock at her outburst.

"But you're a mechanic?"

"I'm not that either," he huffed. "Mr. Thurow needs me to tow his car."

"Excuse me?"

"The company overcharges and always ends up damaging the vehicle. He asked me for a favour."

"Do we have a tow truck?" she asked.

Bucky raised his left hand. "I have a metal arm," he pointed out. "And super strength. I can easily tow a car."

Baby Girl was speechless. "How long will you be?"

Bucky checked his watch. "An hour? Less, if I manage to not get roped into game night."

"Game night? It's a weekday."

"Every night's a game night at the Thurow's," Bucky responded seriously. "We'll get your phone first thing tomorrow morning."

"Promise?" she asked his retreating figure.

"Promise," he replied. "Lock the door, alright? And keep the blinds down."

"Alright, Dad," she retorted, but he had already left.

Baby Girl took a deep breath. This was the first time she had been alone in weeks. She sat down on the couch and closed her eyes. A minute passed, then two, then three. Five minutes later, she opened her eyes and saw only thirty seconds had passed. She groaned from boredom and flopped over the armrest. She was loath to admit that she dearly missed Bucky. There was something in his air and manner of walking that brought peace to her inner turmoil.

She sighed, resorting to cleaning the kitchen, which was not dirty in the least. In the middle of her furiously scrubbing the countertop with a sponge, the landline chimed annoyingly from the other room. "Hello," she answered, twirling the cord with her pinky. "Who's this?"

"Baby Girl!" the jolly voice on the other line bellowed. "I was hoping you'd pick up."

"Sam!" The two talked, catching up on the past few days. It turned out Sam was in Washington. "How's Sarah?" she asked. "Is she enjoying her time away from the boys? They're lovely, but they can be a nuisance."

Sam grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.

"What?"

"She's on a date," he groaned. "Look, I'm happy for her. But I didn't need to see her exchanging spit with a stranger."

"Poor you," she giggled. "And lucky Sarah! Wowza!"

Sam laughed on the other line. "It's great to hear you happy after so long."

"Hmm," Baby Girl hummed, feeling momentarily guilty. "By the way, I thought you and Sarah were going to New Orleans. What are you doing in Washington?"

"He didn't tell you," Sam said with surprise. "I thought he would."

"Tell me what?"

"I know about Quentin," Sam sighed. "I know you're still dating him."

Her breath got stuck in her throat. "He told you?" she asked in disbelief.

"Don't be mad at him," Sam pleaded. "I made him tell me."

There was shuffling on the other end. A loud sniffle.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry you felt like Quentin was the only one you could count on."

"What exactly did Bucky say?" Baby Girl questioned, thinking Sam was too calm about the situation.

"He said Quentin was blackmailing you to stay with him."

Baby Girl sighed. "Is that all? Did he say anything else?"

"Like what?"

"Like... nothing." She realized Bucky had not disclosed any of the more sensitive subject matter. Not the abuse, nor Quentin's impromptu visit. "It's nothing. I'm sorry I kept this from you."

Sam sighed heavily on the other line. "That's in the past. We can only move forward from here on out."

Baby Girl nodded even though Sam couldn't see her. "You have a good friend," she told him. "Bucky's doing a lot to help. He came up with the plan to distract Quentin with "bigger fish," as he put it. Quentin will forget all about me if he finds something more worthwhile. But I'm sure you know all about that."

"He said what? That's not what we planned!" Sam exclaimed. He swore under his breath. "I need to take this call. It's Congress—I'll tell you soon, alright? I'll call you right back."

"Sure," she said, slightly flustered. "I'll be waiting."

Sam ended the call, and she put the receiver down. The second she did, the landline immediately started ringing.

"What took you so long?" she joked with a laugh. "I've been waiting hours for your call."

"You have? I knew you missed me."

Baby Girl felt her heart drop to her stomach. The voice on the other line was not quite as deep, or quite as warm. It was low and raspy, eliciting goosebumps across her arms and bad memories across her skin.

She made to end the call, but his shrill warning stopped her. "You don't want to do that," Quentin hissed.

"What do you want?" she managed to ask between ragged breaths.

"Straight to the point, I see. You've really changed."

"Fuck you!" she seethed. "I asked you a question." She was surprised by her resolve, and so was he.

"What, you're swearing now? That's not the girl I know."

Her body was trembling with adrenaline. "Tell me what you want, or I'll end the call."

She could feel his anger through the line. "I want to talk to you in person."

"Over your dead body!" she yelled.

Quentin was oddly calm with his response. "No, not over mine."

It was so obviously a bait—one she couldn't help but fall for. "What do you mean?"

"It's a shame," he sighed, "that I'm meeting them for the first time under such shit circumstances. They're cute kids. Would've loved New York."

Time seemed to stop.

"Have you boys ever seen the Statue of Liberty? I'll take you once your Aunt comes back home. We can all go together."

There was a muffled noise, then the slam of a door shutting close. It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over Baby Girl. Her muscles tightened painfully, and she collapsed onto the couch.

"No," she whispered.

Quentin laughed on the other end. "Cat got your tongue?"

Baby Girl closed her eyes, feeling tears of frustration well in the corners. This is why she kept her distance. This is why she wanted to go back to Quentin and back to New York. But she let herself hope in Bucky's presence, let herself believe that she could have a family while keeping her freedom. "You monster," she hissed. "Don't you dare touch them." But there wasn't any heat behind her words, only the bitter taste of defeat.

He tasted it too, and oh, how he reveled in it! Quentin laughed again, low and menacing. "I told you I wouldn't let you leave so easily. Meet me in person if you want to see your dear nephews again. And don't you dare tell anyone," he hissed. "This is between you and me."

Baby Girl ignored his warning and reached into her back pocket to grab her phone and tell Bucky. But her hand came back empty. She didn't have a phone; she didn't even have Bucky's number. And did she really want to risk the boys' lives by going behind Quentin's back? He didn't want them anyway, he only wanted her.

With tears burning her eyes and a fire blazing in her chest, Baby Girl asked, "Where do you want to meet?"

On the other end, Quentin smiled, knowing he had won.

Bucky reached into his back pocket and grabbed his phone. He scrolled through his contacts, realizing too late that he didn't have her number. His face fell, and he sighed deep and slow, garnering the attention of the room. Carlos Thurow had invited some friends for a game of poker and forced Bucky to play a round with them. That was four rounds ago.

"What's got you so down, Sergeant?" Carlos teased. "There a girl waiting for you at home?" The men laughed and cheered, barraging Bucky with questions.

He found himself smiling, and finished his beer in one swig. "I do, actually," he said, grabbing his jacket and walking to the door. "I should get going."

The men cheered him on, and Bucky left feeling light and tingly. It wasn't from the alcohol—Bucky couldn't get drunk anymore—it was her. His Baby Girl.

The walk to Sam's was warm. The stars were out, the sky clear, and the wind blew gently, ruffling the trees around him. Bucky took a deep breath, smelling the ocean air and the earthy trees, listening to the faint sounds of crickets chirping and owls hooting. A night had never been sweeter.

Once at the house, Bucky lightened his footsteps and creeped onto the porch, feeling mischievous and wanting to spook Baby Girl. The living room light was on, and he could see the television playing silently through the thin curtain. Bucky placed a hand on the door, frowning when it creeped open at the slightest touch.

Didn't he tell her to lock the door? And to leave it completely open? Delacroix was a small community inhabited by kind and lawful people, but there was a crazy ex on the loose. He expected Baby Girl to be more careful than that.

Bucky decided he would give her a proper scare for her carelessness and slipped through the entryway. He sneaked into the living room, arms raised like in the movies, and—

She wasn't there. Bucky quickly scanned his surroundings. TV playing, couch pushed askew, the landline dangling from its cord, the edge of the carpet flipped over as if someone had run over it. Bucky rushed to check the rest of the house, the bedrooms, the washroom—he even checked the lake. Nothing.

He went back to the living room, senses dialed to the maximum. There was no sign of a forced entry, and though a scuffle was apparent, there were no prints or marks that indicated there had been another person. Unless they covered their tracks. But then why leave the carpet overturned, the couch askew? Why make it obvious something had happened?

Perhaps Bucky was overthinking, and Baby Girl had run to the store to grab something. She had already proved herself to be impulsive and clumsy. It wouldn't be a huge stretch to believe she forgot to lock the door behind her in a hurry.

Except, she wouldn't have left without her wallet. Bucky bent down to grab her purse from under the coffee table, feeling dread engulf him at the sight. Palms sticky and breaths uneven, he looked around the room once more. This time, he noticed something he hadn't before, a hastily scribbled note peeking out from under the landline.

Bucky snatched the note, careful not to crease it.

"I'm sorry," it began. "I had no choice. He has the boys." 

Bucky's mind began to race with questions. Most namely, "Where?"

It was then that his senses picked up on something new. The faint scent of smoke. Bucky dropped the note and ran out the back, scanning the horizon. There, on the opposite side of the lake, a thick column of smoke billowed from behind the treeline. The beginnings of a large fire. Baby Girl's house was set ablaze, glowing brightly in the dark. Bucky's heart dropped to his stomach, and he ran.

Note: So... I lied. There will need to be another part.

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist │Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3

Comments and Reblogs are appreciated!! 💜

@astrophileous @buckylovinglokivariant @casa-boiardi @crazyunsexycool @dancer3205 @dascarypicklerawr @drakelover78 @hallecarey1 @kandis-mom @marantha @marvelatthetwilight @marvelouslyunstable @ria132love @spookyparadisesheep @sunnyhummingbee @traderjoesmints

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #tfatws!bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes #tfatws!bucky #marvel #fytflam fic #rosepetalsinwinter

[holylulusworld]

Jerk next door (6) - Two new players

Summary: You move in next door to a jerk after a bad breakup.

Pairing: Andy Barber x fem!Reader

Characters: Destroyer!Chris, Captain Syverson

Warnings: angst, mentions of past domestic violence (implied), mentions of divorce, mentions of past physical abuse, scared reader, mentions of past alcohol abuse, rueful Andy, mentions of murder

A/N: It's been a while, huh.

Jerk next door masterlist 

<< Jerk next door (5)

“No,” you violently shake your head. “I won’t set foot into his house. Let Quentin come and kill me. It’s better than being under the care of this man.” 

“Miss,” Chris sighs. He’s fucking tired of taking care of other people’s problems. “I’m tired, my head hurts like hell and I haven’t slept for a week. Please give me a break.”

“Oh,” considering his words you look at the stranger in your house again. He looks tired and sick. “Wait, have a seat. Do you want some water? I got not much food left, but I can make you a sandwich.”

“I came here for a reason, miss.”

“Y/N,” you offer a weak smile. “I’m sorry for barking at you. It’s his fault, not yours. You only try to help me.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugs and takes the offered seat in your kitchen. “I get that you are mad at Barber. He’s a handful.”

“So, uh-Mr…” you furrow your brow. “Sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“Just Chris,” he takes the glass of water you placed on the table and chugs it down. “I’m sorry too. It was a rough month…or rather year.”

Chris closes his eyes for a moment and sighs deeply.

“Maybe you should stay out of this shitshow. I already packed the most important things. I’ll try to start anew somewhere else.”

“He will follow you everywhere you go, miss,” Chris opens his eyes. His blue eyes hold your gaze as you try to find a way to keep him out of your problems. “Quentin Beck is the kind of bastard not letting go. He doesn’t love you but won’t let you live your life without him.”

“He will kill me,” you whisper. “Quentin told me so when I finally found the strength to file for divorce. I embarrassed him by revealing what he did to me. Though, no one was there to help me. They all turned a blind eye to my injuries and his behavior.”

“No man should put their hands on a woman,” Chris sneers. “I will make sure he’ll never get close to you, Y/N.”

“Quentin won’t give up.”

“Let him come,” Chris gets up from his chair because you’re rubbing your arms and your teeth chatter. “You’re freezing.”

“I-I’m scared, is all,” you reply. 

“No. You’re cold,” he shrugs his jacket off and puts it around your shoulders. “You need to calm down. I know Andy was a jerk, but he’s our only chance to keep you safe.”

“I don’t want to hide at his place,” you sniffle. “He’s as bad as my ex-husband.”

“Andy would never hurt a woman,” Chris softly speaks to you. “Laurie got him good. She broke something inside of him. Jerk or not, he will do anything to keep you safe.”

“Promised?” You look up at Chris.

“Promised.”

“Bedroom, bathroom,” Andy nervously points at the bed in his bedroom. “I’ll take the guestroom. This one is bigger.”

“This is ridiculous,” you huff and cross your arms over your chest. “If only you left me alone. I didn’t do anything wrong to make you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, sweets,” he sighs and runs one hand down his face. Andy is fucking tired too. “Please let me at least try to make things up to you.”

“You put me in harm's line!” You throw your hands up. “I finally found a peaceful place and you had to ruin it for me. Even if he believes I left town, Beck will come back. If he sinks his teeth in your flesh, you are his next meal.”

Andy smirks. “Let him come. I’m not the tame and friendly lawyer if you fuck with me.” He cocks his head and watches you sit on his bed. Andy clears his throat and softens his voice. “I changed the sheets, and in the bathroom are fresh towels. I brought all your clothes into the walk-in wardrobe. It’s right through that door.”

Andy points at the door next to the bathroom.

“You can put them on the left side. It’s…empty,” he shrugs when you watch him with curiosity. “A habit.” He adds. “My ex-wife used to occupy the left side. I kinda never changed that. It’s empty since I moved in here.”

“I did the opposite,” you admit. “Quentin used the left side, and I put the silliest things on his side.” You grin. “He would so hate it.”

“Hmm…” Andy nods thoughtfully. “We removed any trace you lived at your house. A friend of mine will take your place. I had an emergency meeting with all the neighbors. They know about you, and Beck. Doris and Peter offered to have an eye on the house.”

“You make it sound so easily,” you wipe your wet eyes. “I used my real name, Andy. Sooner than later Quentin will find my employer, and I’m done for. He will come when I least expect it and…”

You look away. 

“He won’t,” Andy suddenly stands in front of the bed. “I don’t give a shit that he’s a cop. I’m an attorney lawyer, Chris is an ex-cop, and—” 

“And I was the leader of a special forces unit,” another man casually walks inside Andy’s bedroom. “Hello, sugar. Andy told me so much about you.”

“Hi,” you choke the word out, unable to think while crowded by the two of them.

The man holds out his hand. “Oh, she’s shy,” he hums and steps closer to look down at you. He looks even bigger than Andy and Chris. His blue eyes are soft, but his large hand promises more than a friendly handshake if you mess with him. “Captain Syverson, or Sy to you.“

„Hi,“ you squeak as he grabs your hand to shake it. His grip is firm, but you know, this is only a fraction of his strength. “I’m Y/N.”

“A pleasure to finally meet you,” he smirks, still holding your hand. “Andy told me so much about you, but forgot to tell me that you are the sweetest dame I ever laid eyes on.”

“Sy, can you just not?” Chris joins the party. He immediately glares at Syverson, not liking said man is still holding your hand. “We have a lot on our plate. Quentin Beck is sniffing around town. We got to stop him.”

“Let me break his neck then,” Sy grumbles. “Problem solved.”

“We are talking about murder in that case,” Andy ever the lawyer retorts. “We can’t just kill him, okay. All we have to do is convince him that Y/N left town.”

“All we gotta do is rip him a new one,” Chris bites back. “That piece of shit deserves to be punished for the crimes he committed. He’s hiding behind his badge.”

“I did a background check of Mr. Wonderful,” Syverson draws your attention back toward him, and away from Chris. “Y/N wasn’t the first woman he has hurt. Three of his former girlfriends reported him to the police.”

“Let me guess, the reports disappeared,” Chris makes a face. “I told you, he’s a piece of shit and had it coming for a long time.”

“Chris, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but we can’t run around and kill random people. Bastard or not,” Andy stops the two men from conspiring. Both are skilled and undoubtedly able to take Quentin down. “We need to do this the right way.”

“Well, no shit Sherlock,” Syverson grunts. “The other women tried to do it the right way. No one helped them. The reports disappeared, and his colleagues made sure that they didn’t try to file another report.”

Andy scowls at Syverson. “I get it. He’s not a sweetheart and we are on our own. Let’s make sure he’ll never hurt a woman without killing him then.”

You rock back and forth while the men decide on your ex-husband’s fate.

Whatever is going to happen, you are too weak to stop them or Quentin…

Tags in reblog.

#andy barber #captain syverson #andy barber x reader #destroyer!chris #andy barber x you #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x y/n #destroyer chris #captain syverson x reader #destoyer!chris x reader #Jerk next door (6) - Two new players

[gyll-yee-haw]

Jake Masterlist (part 2)

Mob!Jake

Punishment

Jealous

Taking care of your bruises

Jake's characters

Detective Loki

Smut:

Teach me

Dangerous Game

Bad cop

Ungrateful

Bad girl

Teasing him at work

He's jealous

Fluff:

The first “I love you”

The Storm

He’s tired

You lose a pet (angst + fluff)

Dad!David

Babysitting

Billy Hope

Smut:

Size kink

Mysterio/Quentin Beck

Fluff:

You get hurt

Multiverse: Two Quentins (smutish)

Pregnant!Reader

You're sad

Smut:

The one and only

The most brilliant student

You learn so fast

Loyalty

The Assistant

Villainous duo

Coworkers

Sexual tension

Thigh riding

Friends with benefits

Breeding kink

Innocence kink

Mob!:

Spoiled

Angst: 

He loses you and your daughter

Louis Bloom

Smut: 

Manipulative

Fast learner

Cockwarming

Tall reader

Finding out who he really is

Donnie Darko

Fluff/Smut:

Boyfriend

Keeping him safe

Donnie doesn't know when to stop

Depressed!reader

He's obsessed with u

Unprotected sex (College!Donnie)

Squirt

Mean! Donnie

Morf Vandewalt 

Smut: 

Concept

Bi!Morf

Sam Hall

Smut/Fluff

Childhood friends

Childhood friends part 2

Holden/Tom

Fluff

Concept

Adam x Reader x Anthony

Smut:

The two of you

Adam Bell

Smut

You’re his best girl

Elwood Dalton

Dalton's rules

Preferences (including a few characters)

7 minutes

Lip plumper

Pillow talk

More Jake works on Jake Masterlist part. 1

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x you #jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal fanfic

[dark-mcu-ship-tourney]

Hello!

Welcome to the Problematic MCU Ship Tournament!

This blog will pit 64 different pairings against one another. All of them are in some way “problematic”- some feature a minor and an adult, others feature incestuous pairings, others still simply have questionable or potentially abusive dynamics. Many ships combine elements of more than one.

Each day, 4 polls will be posted pitting two different ships together (for a total of 8 ships per day). You are free to vote in as many or as few of these polls as you’d like.

This blog is explicitly pro-ship and anti-censorship, and obviously features dark themes. If this is a point of discomfort for you, you are free to block this blog, I don’t bite. Hate towards anyone (and anything unreasonably rude about ships or characters) will not be published and users that send it will be blocked. Nothing explicit will be posted to this blog, regardless of the ship, so minors are free to interact if they so wish.

The bracket below shows all the ships that will be posted, as well as their first opponent. After the first round has been completed, the diagram will be updated and all of the winning ships will be pitted against one another. You can also find a typed list of all ships under the cut, for users that can’t or don’t want to read my terrible handwriting.

May the odds be ever in your (ship’s) favor!

All First Round Ships:

1. Morgan Stark x Harold “Happy” Hogan

2. Morgan Stark x James “Rhodey” Rhodes

3. Morgan Stark x Tony Stark

4. Morgan Stark x Pepper Potts

5. Scott Lang x Cassie Lang

6. Frigga Freyrdottir x Thor Odinson

7. Vision x Billy Maximoff x Tommy Maximoff

8. Wanda Maximoff x Billy Maximoff x Tommy Maximoff

9. Maria Stark x Tony Stark

10. Howard Stark x Tony Stark

11. Obadiah “Obie” Stane x Tony Stark

12. Tony Stark x Peter Parker

13. Peter Parker x Harold “Happy” Hogan

14. Tony Stark x Harley Keener

15. America Chavez x Dr. Stephen Strange

16. America Chavez x Wanda Maximoff

17. Odin Borson x Thor Odinson

18. King T'Chaka x Prince T'Challa

19. Xu Shang-Chi x Xu Wenwu

20. Marc Spector x Stephen Grant

21. Thor Odinson x Rocket Raccoon

22. Thor Odinson x Groot

23. Peter Quill x Rocket Raccoon

24. James “Bucky” Barnes x Rocket Raccoon

25. Adrian Toomes x Peter Parker

26. Dr. Otto Octavius x Peter Parker

27. Dr. Curt Connors x Peter Parker

28. Steven “Skip” Westcott x Peter Parker

29. Dr. Stephen Strange x Peter Parker

30. Quentin Beck x Peter Parker

31. James “Bucky” Barnes x Peter Parker

32. Steve Rogers x Peter Parker

33. Thor Odinson x Loki Laufeyson

34. Loki Laufeyson x Sylvie Laufeydottir

35. Princess Shuri x James “Bucky” Barnes

36. Princess/Queen Shuri x Namor/K’uk’ulkan

37. Thanos x Nebula

38. Thanos x Gamora

39. Thanos x Loki Laufeyson

40. Thanos x Tony Stark

41. Clint Barton x Kate Bishop

42. Clint Barton x Lila Barton

43. Carol Danvers x Kamala Khan

44. Monica Rambeau x Kamala Khan

45. Stephen Grant x Khonshu

46. Jake Lockley x Khonshu

47. Marc Spector x Khanshu

48. Arthur Harrow x Ammit

49. Xu Shang-Chi x Xu Xialing

50. Princess Shuri x King/Prince T’Challa

51. Billy Maximoff x Tommy Maximoff

52. Wanda Maximoff x Pietro Maximoff

53. Peter Parker x May Parker

54. Queen Ramonda x Princess Shuri

55. Queen Ramonda x King/Prince T’Challa

56. Peter Parker x Ben Parker

57. Marc Spector x Jake Lockley

58. Stephen Grant x Jake Lockley

59. Natasha Romanov x Yelena Belova

60. Gamora x Nebula

61. Odin Borson x Loki Laufeyson

62. Frigga Feyrdottir x Loki Laufeyson

63. Peter Parker x Carol Danvers

64. Peter Parker x James “Rhodey” Rhodes

#mcu #proship #thorki #starker #sylki #spiderio #spiderstrange #spidershield #winterspider #nashuri #yelenat #poll #ship tournament #tournament polls #poll bracket #fandom polls #tumblr polls

[jahayla-parker]

Bewitched Love : Peter Parker x Reader

Part 1

Bewitched Love Series Navigation

Desc. & Warnings: 3.5k wc, see navigation for description and warnings

“Is… is that Mysterio?” Y/n questioned, her eyes wide as she stared at the jumbo-screen. J. Jonah Jameson from the Daily Bugle was holding a televised broadcasting of Mysterio. It seemed to be his last words, but it was hard to make out over the loudness of Madison Square Garden.

Peter was in his Spider-Man suit, his suit’s eyes equally as wide as y/n’s. He snapped his head towards y/n as he lifted his right hand out to the side in question. Peter couldn’t believe what he was hearing, Mysterio was trying to claim that Peter Spider-Man was behind the loss of life in London. He quickly squeezed y/n’s hand before leaping onto the nearest lamppost to get a better view.

Y/n watched from the street as the video recording of Mysterio returned after J. Jonah Jameson’s ignorant remarks. She felt her stomach drop when Mysterio mumbled “Spider-Man's real... Spider-Man's real name is.…”. Y/n was granted a very brief moment of relief when the video glitched and cut out. However, before she could even let out a sigh, Mysterio’s picture returned as he shouted “Spider-Man's name is Peter Parker!”. Y/n froze after she snapped her attention towards Peter.

Peter was still perched on the lamppost next to the road. He clutched his head in panic, “what the fuck?!”. Peter glanced down at y/n only to see her staring back at him in just as much shock and confusion. He swallowed thickly as he heard J. Jonah Jameson summarize what Quentin Beck proclaimed.

Peter snapped his head and when he heard y/n’s faint gasp. Looking down he saw the crowd had begun to point at her. Peter jumped down as soon as he heard someone repeatedly ask if she was Spider-Man's girlfriend.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Please don't touch her” Peter begged, holding his hands up as he stood between the angry citizens and y/n. Peter slowly spun in his defensive position as a citizen neared them asking, “you’re just a kid?”. Peter heard y/n groan in annoyance behind him as more people stepped closer.

Y/n glared at the stranger who came up to Peter and asked “you murdered Mysterio?”. She shook her head and began to defend her boyfriend, “he didn’t-“.

But then the stranger turned to her and gasped, “you helped him murder Mysterio?”.

Y/n’s jaw dropped slightly, her eyes wide, as she shook her head adamantly. She and Peter both tried to assure the surging crowd that neither of them did what the video of Mysterio was proclaiming. Y/n had moved to stand beside Peter, rather than behind; much to his frustration.

Peter tensed as yet another person approached them, this time reaching their hand out to try and touch them. He reflectively swatted the woman’s hand away before she could touch either of them. Peter’s actions resulted in the woman screaming, “Whoa, whoa, whoa! He hit me! Spider-Man hit me!”

Peter glanced over at y/n as she argued, “That’s not what happened! You tried to-“. Normally he’d make sure whoever they were talking to let her finish her sentence, but Peter noticed everyone had started pulling out their phones and recording. As much as he wanted to not step on y/n’s toes as she tried to defend him, he couldn’t risk more bad publicity. Peter tried to calm the crowd, but failed once again.

As the angry citizens moved closer, Peter brought y/n to his side. He hooked his arm around her waist, holding her tightly against him. Peter nodded once at y/n to warn her of his next actions before he shot a web and lifted them from the surging crowd. He apologized as he felt y/n hold on tight. Peter knew she preferred to use her own abilities to fly rather than him pulling her around. But, he didn’t feel he was left with much choice. Especially because Peter didn’t want her to have to risk getting her identity disclosed to the world too.

Like Peter -before this broadcast that is-, only a handful of people knew of Y/n‘s secret identity. May, Happy, Ned, and MJ were the only ones outside of her family and Peter that knew what y/n could do/what she was. May was inevitable given her relationship with Peter and Happy’s situationship with May. Plus, May was great at patching up any scrapes or cuts after a night on patrol with Peter. Happy and Ned had been made aware during the events in London; with Ned’s questions answered upon their return to New York. MJ was looped in when she and y/n worked on eliminating the tension between them.

Y/n and MJ both had a crush on Peter going into their London trip, and for a short time Peter had a crush on both of the girls. In the end, Peter knew he only truly held romantic feelings for y/n and not MJ. MJ sensed this and was supportive. But there had still been some understandable tension between y/n and MJ. It wasn’t much, but it made them both uncomfortable so it had to be addressed.

Y/n assured MJ that she didn’t do anything to try and ‘win’ Peter over in London. MJ assured y/n that her crush on Peter had been minimal. In fact, once Brad showed interest in MJ, her crush on Peter dissolved. Both girls were pleased with the outcomes of the whole affair and ready to move on as if nothing happened.

But y/n felt awkward keeping a secret from MJ. She always had. But now that y/n had told others, including their mutual friend Ned, she felt she owed MJ the truth. She was nervous as to how MJ would react, but Peter assured her it would be fine. It turns out, Peter was correct, y/n had nothing to worry about; MJ was actually thrilled and very intrigued by y/n’s abilities.

That being said, Peter knew that didn’t mean y/n wanted everyone to know. Heck, Peter didn’t want everyone to know about his secret life either. But, he wasn’t given any say in this public disclosure. Peter was going to be sure that y/n wasn’t placed in the same position as him; even if it meant causing a brief surge of panic when he suddenly pulled them through the air to escape the crowds.

Peter’s guilt soaked eyes scanned y/n’s body to see if she was still nervous. He’d made it back to his bedroom, sneaking them in through the window. Peter could tell y/n was very relieved to have been standing on her own two feet again, but otherwise she seemed fine. He let out a short sigh, pressing the center button on his suit.

Y/n placed her hands on the upper part of Peter’s exposed chest, staring deeply into his eyes. “It’s okay, Peter, breathe” she whispered soothingly as she pleaded with her eyes. When Peter continued to mumble that he didn’t know what to do now, y/n stepped closer and lifted one hand to his cheek.

Y/n stood extremely close to Peter, enough to feel his breath ticking the tiny hairs on her face. She closed her eyes, one hand resting on his chest, the other cupping his cheek. Y/n took a deep breath and whispered “stabilis corde; stabilis mentis”; steady in heart, steady in mind.

Just as Peter felt his out of control pulse calming and his racing thoughts coming to a halt, the door burst open. Y/n and Peter both startled as Happy hid his eyes and May apologizes. Peter quickly shot a web over to y/n’s waist to keep her upright when she stumbled backwards, tripping over his suit in her attempt to distance from Peter. “This isn't what it looks like, Happy!” He groaned, his face flushed.

“It’s not -“ y/n mumbled quietly. She glanced at the door as Peter’s aunt, May apologized again and went to close it. “I’m sorry” y/n sighed, her gaze shifting nervously around the room.

Peter swore he was going to spray May with the kitchen faucet hose when she advised, “just practice safe...”. “It's not what it looks like” Peter shouted, unable to look at y/n out of the embarrassment his aunt’s response caused him. He let out a sigh of relief when May cut herself off as she opened the door again and noticed y/n.

“Oh! It’s y/n” May grinned, walking over to hug the girl.

“Who else would it be?” Peter questioned as he watched y/n giggle shyly as she returned May’s hug.

“I hadn’t even considered that, I was more focused on trying not to see anything!” May explained, laughing at Peter’s deepening blush.

“It’s not-“ y/n began, biting her lip.

May shook her head, “I’ll get out of your guys’ hair, just be safe”. She turned towards her nephew and curled her the corner of her lips up, “there’s a box of con-“. Before May could finish her sentence Peter cut her off.

“Okay! Got it” Peter blushed. “Not what’s happening, but got it” he sighed, rubbing his face with his hand.

“Oh no , you don’t have to stop on account of us” May said, pushing Happy back from the doorframe.

“Maaaayyy” Peter groaned, “Please stop”. He sighed as May just held her hands to in surrender as she went to close the door again. Only this time, Peter noticed the tears on Happy’s face. Peter felt guilty that Happy’s tears gave him an easy change of topic. Nonetheless, he gasped dramatically, “wait have you been crying?”

Happy pouted, making May resist an eye roll as he confessed, “we broke up”.

“Oh” Peter sighed, glancing between his aunt and Happy. “I-“ he began, only to be interrupted by the sounds of a helicopter as someone shouted “hey Spider-Man”. “Oh, uh-“ Peter mumbled, his racing thoughts and heart picking back up at full speed.

Y/n quickly located a random shirt on Peter’s bed. She picked out up and momentarily held onto it as she watched him web the blinds shut. Once the window was covered, she tossed the shirt to Peter.

“Thank you” Peter smiled softly at y/n. “I didn't know you guys broke up” he sighed sympathetically as he looked at Happy while pulling the shirt over his head. “I thought you were in love, May” Peter fibbed, pushing May out of his room.

May, Happy, and Peter softly bickered as they all made their way to the living room; y/n following behind them. Y/n noticed Peter herding them away from the door just as someone buzzed their apartment. She flicked her eyes over to the door to ensure it was locked. Y/n panicked upon seeing someone standing at the still open front door.

Y/n quickly rushed over and slammed the front door shut. She winced as she realized her frantic response probably didn’t help things. “Sorry! Not now!” Y/n justified, locking the door. As y/n made her way to the others, May smiled at her, “as always, make yourself at home”.

“Now Peter, about sex” May began softly, making Peter groan.

“This has nothing to do with sex!” Peter shouted, his embarrassed eyes shifting over to check on y/n. His eyes changed back to fearful as he watched y/n swiftly closing the blinds as more people surrounded their apartment. Within seconds Peter found himself dashing around the small space in a frazzled attempt to hide any signs of what transpired moments before he and y/n arrived at his home. As he stole Happy and Mays phones, he lightly scolded “can you get off your phones for five minutes?! I just wanna talk to you about your relationship, okay?”

Y/n sighed as she noticed what was on the television behind Peter. She’d been watching as he tried so hard to cover up what Mysterio did, even if just for a few seconds of peace. But, y/n knew the TV gave him away. “Peter..” y/n whispered, pointing to the TV. She figured he’d want it off, but she didn’t want to overstep.

When Peter’s eyes widened as he looked at the news being played, y/n searched for a remote to turn it off. Upon not seeing one quick enough, she took it upon herself. Y/n turned and flicked her fingers, the blue strands of cosmic energy moving speedily towards the television set, “removere potestatem”. Unfortunately, y/n wasn’t fast enough in her decision to use her powers as May and Happy had seen more than enough.

“Peter, what’s going on?” May asked hesitantly, glancing between the kids in front of her.

Y/n looked at Peter to see how to handle the situation. She slyly grabbed his hand and held on to it for support as he struggled to find the words to explain. Y/n’s eyes and hand never left Peter the entire time it took for him to catch May and Happy up to speed.

Y/n stared at Peter silently as MJ and Ned got rid of their letters.

Their group had applied to countless colleges, including last resort back-up options. Over the last few weeks as colleges mailed out their decisions, the four of them received nothing but rejections; even from said last resorts. All the rejection letters cited the same reason, “recent controversy”.

Even though Peter had won his legal battle against Mysterio’s claims, their lives hadn’t returned to normal. Instead, despite being four of the brightest students at their high school, they remained unable to find a college that would admit them. They’d all dreamed of going to MIT for years, and now they couldn’t even get into a small newly formed local community college.

Y/n knew Peter blamed himself. Even though she would never regret anything that happened during their trip to London, she knew he wished to change the ending with Beck. Y/n and Peter had talked about that event in great length since it happened. Y/n was able to take him through it so that his regret and guilt for what happened to Mysterio wasn’t eating at him constantly.

These rejection letters however ,only sent Peter back down his spiral of remorse and depression. While none of their friends blamed him for their inability to get into college, Peter felt responsible. If he’d handled things better with Mysterio, hadn’t let him trick and manipulate him for so long, maybe his friends could get into MIT. Maybe y/n, the girl he loved and wanted to give the world to, could’ve gotten into her dream school. Hell, there was no maybe about it. Peter knew that if it hadn’t been for his mistakes, she’d be packing for MIT. Instead, she was sitting with him and their friends as they stared at their rejection letters.

Y/N slid off her chair and silently made her way to Peter. She watched as he kept his eyes downcast, tears staring to stream down his cheeks. Y/n frowned and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hugging him from behind. Peter melted into her embrace, making a small smile from on her lips.

Y/N’s attempts at comforting her boyfriend were cut short as Flash walks in to the coffee shop. He was dressed head to toe in MIT merch and barely notices the look of disappointment on their faces. But when he did, he stopped and asked, “you guys didn't get in?”. Flash instantly regretted his question when Ned sassed that they’d been rejected since they were actually Peter’s friends unlike the way Flash had been falsely portraying he was.

As Flash left, the group sighed collectively. MJ promptly excused herself as she returned to work. Ned picked up on her cue and explained he needed to show his parents the rejection letter. When they’d parted ways, y/n grabbed Peter’s chair and turned it so he was looking at her.

“I’m so sorry” Peter said, his eyes slowing peaking up at y/n. He sniffled quietly as y/n shushed him and pulled him to her. Peter shook his head, this was his fault and y/n was caught in the middle; yet, she was comforting him?

Before Peter could voice his frustration, y/n stepped back and held his face in her palms. “Stop apologizing” she whispered. “The only one blaming you is yourself, Peter” y/n assured him. She lowered her head and pulled his closer to her, pressing her lips against his forehead. “Please try to see it from our perspective” y/n requested, playing softly with his hair.

“I messed up” Peter muttered shyly, clutching tightly onto y/n’s coat. He knew she was going to argue so he kept going. “I.. I pulled you into this chaos and it’s not the life you wanted” Peter explained. “You haven’t even had the chance to consider what you want with your situation and I came in like a… a… uhh… bulldozer and ruined everything” he whispered.

Y/n furrowed her brows as she glanced down at Peter. She shook her head and took a deep breath. “Peter,” y/n whispered, sighing when he kept his eyes on the ground instead of looking at her. “Babe, please look at me” she begged, tenderly squeezing his jaw.

When Peter finally made eye contact with her, y/n smiled softly. “On that plane, with Happy, I decided” she argued. Y/n shook her head as Peter opened his mouth to protest. “You’re right, I hadn’t decided before. But Peter, I was afraid. I didn’t think I could do this alone,” y/n admitted, “I didn’t want to do this alone. I still don’t. But I’m not alone. And neither are you”.

Y/n moved to sit on the stool beside Peter, taking his shaking hands in her warm ones. “Things like this are going to happen, but what matters is that we are there for each other as we work through them” she professed. She grinned as Peter nodded slowly. “Now, my Spider-Lord,” y/n teased, “I must go meet my parents for another training, but, you can call if you need me okay?”

Peter groaned, “uuughh”. “Don’t” he laughed, shaking his head at the horrible nickname that had come as a result of one of the news articles written about him lately. Peter nodded promisingly, standing up and pulling y/n in for a tight hug. “Be careful,” he whispered, placing a shy short kiss to her lips, “but be magical”.

“Peter!” Y/n groaned, rolling her eyes at his returned teasing. She smiled and squeezed his hand once more before turning to leave. Y/n glanced back at Peter as she reached the sidewalk before she truly made her way home; but not before blowing him a kiss when she saw he was watching her still.

Peter sighed to himself as he watched y/n walk down the street, his eyes on her until she left his sight. He appreciated that she didn’t blame him for their inability to get into MIT. But, Peter still blamed himself; after all, the ‘controversy’ The university cited was about him. He had to do something, but what?

As Peter stood from his seat and zipped his jacket, he glanced up to say goodbye to MJ. However, his eyes landed on the Halloween decorations that were still hanging up long past the holiday. In particular, Peter found himself staring at what was supposed to be a string of lighted vampires. He couldn’t place what they looked like to him, but he didn’t see vampires though.

Peter’s lips curled slightly just before he dashed out of the cafe. He’d realized why he was so intrigued by the string of lights; they didn’t look like vampires to him, they looked like Doctor Strange. The one person Peter believed might be able to help him, Y/n, and his friends with their predicament. He wasn’t sure Doctor Strange would agree to help, but he had to at least ask.

Peter shuffled his feet nervously as he waited for Doctor Strange Stephen to answer Peter’s request. He knew it was likely a long shot, but Peter was desperate. Peter’s lips curled downwards as Stephen sighed sympathetically.

“Peter... we tampered with the stability of space-time to resurrect countless lives. You wanna do it again now just because yours got messy?” Stephen Strange asked. He felt for Peter, he really did. But, what Peter was asking was a bit extreme.

Peter shook his head quickly, “this isn't... it's not about me”. He took a deep breath to calm himself before continuing. “I mean, this is really hurting a lot of people” Peter explained. “My... my Aunt May, Happy...” he rambled guiltily.

Peter saw the understanding in Stephen’s eyes and kept going. “My best friends,” he added, biting his lip as his frown depended at the thought of the name of the next person he hurt, “my girlfriend, y/n…” Peter shook his head, “their futures are ruined just because they know me, and... they've done nothing wrong”. After he finished his monologue, Peter stared up at Stephen in anticipation. This was his shot, and he could see he was starting to make some headway with the sorcerer.

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