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tarjapearce · 9 months

Note

Omg omg could we get a story about how Miguel and wife/reader first meet? Like maybe they both meet from high school or reader was watching Miguel play soccer with his friends in college!

Had this one sitting for a while cause I didn't know what to do. UNTIL, hehehe >:D Carneadas. (Mexican style bbq)

Pt 2

If someone would have told you that you'd find your future husband in a friend's of a friend gathering you would've just laugh it off.

Jessica and you were fresh out of college, and to celebrate it, she decided to take you on one of her outings. A suburban area, nice houses loitering around in every corner your eyes turned, a lot of parked cars and of course, people that clumped in the decored entrance.

Lights and loud spanish music were just the spark to create ambience, the true star of the night was brewing in two enormous pots. The smell of food lingered in the air the more Jessica pulled you within the crowd.

"Remind me again, who are these people?

"Friends of friends. Never been in a carneada before?"

"My family does these once a month, just don't get why is there so much people."

"We'll, everyone's for the food, so... yeah. Just have fun."

You greeted the people as your feet took you to the drinks. Beers, sodas, more beers and pitchers of horchata, Jamaica, and some lemonades were placed on the coolers.

Reaching for the horchata, you grabbed a plastic vase and poured yourself some. To your surprise a man, the biggest one you have seen in your whole life, stood next to you, his eyes focused in the different brands of canned beers submerged in ice.

Your hand reached for a Modelo and popped the lid out with one of your rings. The man eyed you with amusement. He grabbed a Corona but frowned upon not finding the lid popper. He was going to take the lid to his mouth and you gasped

"Wait! No. Don't do that."

"I can open them, thanks" His voice deep.

"Mano, si que eres terco." (Man, you're stubborn)

He blinked at your voice and handed you the beer, you just popped the lid with the corner of the table.

"Don't mess up your teeth."

The man seized you, a lax smile on his lips.

"Too late for that" He smirked, revealing a longer than average canine. Your eyes went up in surprise.

"Oh."

The music changed and you took the drinks to then sit next to Jessica. You gave her the beer. Some people danced, others were lining up for the food.

"What were you doing?"

"Just met Dracula."

Jessica tilted her head in confusion and laughed.

"I'm not joking, the man had big ass fangs."

"Didn't know you were into that sort of things, but we don't kink shame."

"Jessica!" Her boyfriend had swooped off her feet and took her to dance. Great. You were ditched.

At first, you refused to dance, but as the music changed, your feet were itching to do so. Another man was brave enough to approach you and ask you for a dance, then another, you danced with Jess and clapped once the song was over.

You went to the drinks again to refresh yourself, this time you got a Corona and took a long swig of it.

"My, that was so fun."

-----

Even though your evening had been fun, you needed a break from the party. The host, Peter, seemed like a very easygoing person. Jessica was his acquaintance.

You went to the kitchen in search for another glass of horchata, even though beers were tasty and reminded you a bit of home, the horchata was simply delicious. There was no glasses, but spotted a pack of plastic cups ontop. Problem, was that the fridge was a bit too high for your likings.

You pulled up a chair, ready to climb ontop when the same large hand reached over and pulled a couple of cups down.

"Thanks."

"Who said it was for you?"

The man from before teased, you rolled your eyes and climbed ontop of the chair to reach for a cup yourself.

"No te vayas a caer, Pitufina." (You'll fall down, Smurfette)

"Cállate, Drácula." (Shut up)

He shook his head with a chuckle.

What a douche

"Lemme"

"No, I can do it."

"Te vas a caer con esos tacones." (You'll fall down with those heels)

"It's not a big deal!"

"-Ta madre, lo que tienes de bonita lo tienes de terca. Bájate" (Your stubbornness only matches your beauty. Get down.)

Your lips pouted, a mild flush sweeping your face. You took his hand and he helped you to get down the chair. Even in your heels, you still looked small.

"You are supposed to say thanks."

"For doing something myself?"

His smile went a bit wider.

"Food's done. Let's go"

"Wait." You poured another glass of horchata

"Didn't know my recipe would have a fan."

"Meh, my mom's better"

Your smile smug as he deadpanned.

"Just bit more of sugar. And blend the rice well. There are some little pieces of it in the bottom."

He was about to protest when a man, similar to him spoke. His brother you supposed.

"Miguel?" He looked between him and you, "Ya está la carne, hay que servir" (Meats done, we gotta serve up)

He then left

"Wanna go critique my food as well?"

"Ohh, I'd love to yeah."

----

He'd serve the food along his younger brother, you were one of the last ones in getting your portion. He prepped your plate with a little more care, the Birria's consomé (broth) in a side, another little container for the sauces and of course two big loaded quesabirrias and a bunch of different roasted meats.

"Hope it's from your likings, chaparrita"

"We'll see about that, Dracula" You smirked and took the dish, fingers brushing for a moment.

"Provecho" (Bon Appetite)

------

"How was it?" He sat across you once more upon seeing you alone. Jessica had ditched you again. Oh she so owed you this one.

You shrugged with a smile.

"Good? Bad?"

"I'm teasing. It was great. Specially the broth. Thanks for cooking."

He took a swig of his beer.

"De nada." (You're welcome)

"Miguel! Hay que limpiar" (We gotta clean up)

Gabriel's voice boomed behind him.

"Need help with it?"

His eyes stared at you for a moment and pursed his lips, trying to hide a smile.

"Si quieres" (If you want to.)

-----

You had waved your goodbyes and hopped in with Jessica in her car and left. He just then realized that he never asked your name.

Dumbass.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #soccer family ⚽🕷️#t writes✨#miguel atsv #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel fluff

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maxislvt · 10 months

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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

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angelltheninth · 9 months

Note

Any first time hds for Ben, Peter, Miguel and Noir?

Lots! Here you go!

Pairing: Ben Reilly, Peter B. Parker, Miguel O'Hara, Noir x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, first time, virginity loss, kissing, clit stimulation, biting, gentle to rough sex, breeding kink

A/N: I wanna test something in regardsto Community Labels so I won't be putting pictures here this time.

BEN

He is extremely playful with you when it's your first time. Not playful as in trying to make fun of you but playful in a sense that he wants you to know that you don't need to make a big deal out of this. He's teasing you with his touches, pulling his fingers out and then running them just over your hole, testing the waters before you're ready for his cock.

There's no way he's gonna be rough with you, he's holding back, his cock going in so fucking deep but so slow that you almost want to yell at him to go faster. But you don't you trust him to guide you through your first time and he clearly wants to make it last.

PETER

Very experianced but would never hold that over your head. Or the fact that he's older so ovbiously he knows a lot more when it comes to this. First things first, he wants you to get used to feeling his mouth on your pussy cause there's gonna be a whole lot of that in the future. His favorite thing actually.

When it comes to penetration he rubs his length through your folds first, gathering your horny slick all over his cock, using his hand to spread it. The first few inches are tough, but he's constantly touching and kissing you, whispering soothing words against your lips. He lets you move first once he's fully inside, smirking as you seem to speed up more and more until you can barely call his name uninterupted.

MIGUEL

Definately careful with you because of his size and girth. The first time can be painful so when you've got a cock as big as his to take in you're gonna need a lot of prep and lube. When he hears you want to try the flavored kind he almost loses his mind. Insted of just putting it on your pussy you also put some on his cock and start to suck him off.

Boy is your jaw gonna hurt after this, from sucking him and the amout of sreaming you're gonna do. Puts you on top of him so he can gave the best view in the world, your tiny pussy stretched out on his cock. If he puts his hand on your lower belly he can imagine it so clerly, his cock making space inside you, pressing against your wet, gummy walls, ramming itself inside you as you grow addicted to the pain and pleasure of it.

NOIR

Kisses your body all the way down to your pussy and keeps your legs open. This isn't to embaress you, he wants to kiss and lick and worship every inch of your pretty cunt. Latching his mouth to your clit he sucks on it like its the only thing that's gonna keep him alive. Make a mess of his face, he likes it, likes tasting you on his lips and tongue so much.

Teases you just a little with his cock pushing and pulling the tip in and out until you reach down and grab it. Brave woman. Okay then, since you want it so bad he'll give it to you. Your mouth falls open as your legs lock closed around his hips at the stinging sensation. Tell him when he can speed up, when he can get rough because by god does he crave it, he wanted you like this so badly.

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reverieblondie · 1 month

Text

Neighbors

Chapter 4: Via the Window

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Eludes to voyeurism kink but nothing explicit.

Summary: It's time you thank Spider-Man properly...

A/N: I hope you enjoy the update! Hoping to get these out more frequently!

Word Count: 2,392

‘If I shut my blinds you won’t know where to come get your thank you.’

‘Thank me how’?

‘Come by Monday night and find out?’

‘I will swing by then’

Your Sunday has been spent in two ways. One you had taken the time to get ready for your first week of school. Write out your schedule and figure out what buildings your classes would be in. Best to prepare for your first day to eliminate any surprises that could occur. Two, and far more nerve-wracking; you kept talking with Spider-Man through notes via your window. At the time leaving notes and checking every few hours for a new message from your pen pal was an exciting experience. It was a thrill to get a new message when you weren't even able to catch a glimpse of him! How could he even be that sneaky?

Well now it’s Monday and you're having to reflect on your messages…

You said you wanted to thank him, but now that it's Monday you find yourself playing with the last note he left you. You're still trying to wrack your brain for ideas, but you can’t sit and stir forever. You have a big day ahead! As you're getting ready to leave for school you're double, triple checking that you have your things and that you look decent. Going from the living room to your bedroom, back to the living room to the bathroom like a madman. Once you scramble into the kitchen to make a bottle of water, it clicks. Turning towards your admittedly out-of-date oven the brilliant idea hits, cookies!

Who doesn’t like cookies? Maybe it's a bit old-fashioned or maybe he doesn’t like sweets, but it's the thought that counts right? Just a nice thankful gesture right? Well, there are other thankful gestures you could do for him…But you quickly shake away the thought, you don’t even really know him best not to cross any boundaries; not yet at least.

Getting your mind off of…activities you check your phone and see that you need to leave, don’t want to risk being late on your first day. Doing one last run you check yourself and your things. Before you exit your apartment you find yourself going to your window on pure impose, checking it one last time before you leave. A part of you wishes you would see him swinging by like he's checking on you but you know you won’t catch him.

Walking out of your apartment you look over to Peter's apartment. You haven’t seen him since your moment together in the laundry room. Admittedly you take your time locking your door for the off chance Peter would be leaving his apartment at the same time as you. Though you quickly come to find that your day is not going to start with seeing a brave hero or your annoyingly cute neighbor, that's not going to be a damper on your day. Walking to school making sure to stay out of the bike lane you open your phone and start looking up cookie recipes.

As expected the first day of classes was nothing more than a lot of info dumping about the class and all the materials needed to be successful in the class. Yes, it is easy to just sit and listen but that doesn’t mean it's any less tiring to have to go through. Taking a stretch you feel your muscles stretch and hear your bones softly popping. Just have to go to the store then you can get your little thank you gift for spidy going. The thought of seeing him leaves a giddy feeling to swell in your stomach. But that is soon interrupted when you see a familiar face walking past.

Well, well if it isn't your odd neighbor, of course he didn’t mention you two go to the same university, typical…

“Peter!”, you call out

In an instant, he's stopping and turning to meet your eyes with a somewhat surprised look on his face, though there is a slight hint of a smile on the corners of his lips. You quickly approach him making your way past the swarm of other exhausted college students.

“You know this is starting to get a bit frequent, first the elevator, then the laundry room, now here. Are you following me?” He teases with an annoyingly adorable smile.

“Yeah, if I’m going to stalk anyone it would be a celebrity, not my random neighbor.”

“You would stalk someone? Bad girl…”

The teasing nickname sends a rush over your spine but you must resist, he's insufferable…and adorable…dammit.

Ignoring the comment you kept the conversation moving, “You know most people mention if they go to the same school as someone else they know.”

He shrugs, “True, but that kills the fun of you having to figure it out.”

“Oh, so fun Pete”

“You're welcome. Are you done for the day?”

“Yeah, I was heading home, well going to go to the store then home.”

Peter smiles as he adjusts his backpack, “I was also heading home, you want some company for the trip?” - Well isn't this a friendly change?

“Sure.”

Now you have eggs and sugar, but chocolate chips, flour, brown sugar, and vanilla extract you need to buy. Just to find them is the issue, this store Peter took you to is different from the one you have started to get accustomed to. Peters runs off to grab something, leaving you to wander down the aisles by yourself, so much for his company...

As you browse down the aisle something catches your eye and it's staring in your direction. Two men seem to be whispering and glancing in your direction. You turn to see if they are looking behind you but nothing seems to be odd enough to catch any attention. Facing them again you see they have slid closer and you're starting to feel nervous that it may be you that is catching their attention, but why?

Is there something on your face? Are they staring at your basket? Are you doing something wrong? You're starting to become uneasy as you do your best to just ignore them. They are whispering amongst themselves and you just keep your eyes forward, just ignore them, and let them walk past you.

As the men start to walk in your direction a sudden warmth then wraps around you for a second you're frightened but as you look to see who has their arm wrapped around you you see Peter's striking profile.

“There you are, did you find all the ingredients?”

You look at him confused and he just winks before holding you tighter, sliding his hands to hold you in a hug as his chin rests on your shoulder. The feeling sends a rush down your spine. It's all so quick and confusing, why is he holding you? Did he see you were nervous? Turning you see Peter staring at the two men who had been approaching you up. But now seeing that Peter is with you they quickly scurry away.

Once they are gone Peter's warmth leaves you and there is a zipping of your bag and things start to click.

With a smirk, Peter ruffles your hair and you glare at him.

“You need to pay attention before you get pickpocketed.”

Swatting away his hands he smiles before grabbing your basket and heading towards the register. You bite back a smile and take a second to fix your hair before following him.

“You know I could have carried my bags”

“No, no, it's fine. If my aunt May found out I walked home with someone without helping with the groceries I might just get disowned.”

“Oh? Is that where you learned to be so chivalrous?” you say mockingly as you unlock your door.

After a little effort with the old lock, you get the door open and gesture for Peter to step in. As he steps inside and you see him looking around you realize he's the first guest you have had in your apartment. Taking the groceries from him you start putting away things you don’t need and taking out the things you do.

“You keep staring around at the place, are you not impressed by my decorating skills?”

“Actually smarty pants, I am impressed, might need you to come over and help me with my place. You even managed to get the mildew smell out.”

You smile then turn on your oven with a turn to the old dial, “I charge by the hour and am very bossy. I will warn you”

Peter's eyes flash with mischief, “I wouldn't mind that…”

Folding your arms over your chest you look at him confused, is he flirting? Peter's confidence starts to falter as he rubs the back of his neck trying to ignore the budding tension in the small kitchen. Looking at your counter he sees all the ingredients out.

“Making something?” -smooth change the subject

“I am, just some cookies for a…Friend?” that is technically what you are doing…but can you call Spider-man a friend? You two are friendly but friends? Before you can get wrapped up in thought Peter is speaking up.

“Friend? Judging from how you say it, I assume you two are very close.”

Start to take out your measuring cups and recipe. You roll your eyes at him, “He's a new friend, well acquaintance…”

Peter eyes your hands as you start to place everything down. His eyes on you are starting to make you slightly nervous…but in a good way…where it feels like a rush, “I'm an acquaintance and neighbor.”

“Well, he helped me with something.”

“Um, I carried your groceries and took care of a spider for you.”

“I thought you were carrying my groceries so you wouldn't be disowned, and if I recall you called me dramatic about the spider.”

Peter thinks for a moment before snapping his fingers, “Playful banter between friends.”

Wow, he wants cookies. Letting out a sigh you look at his smirking face trying not to smile. “Do you like chocolate chip?”

“That's my favorite.” -of course it is…

Peter then gives you one more smile before grabbing his bag to leave. “Well, I will leave you to it. Thank you.”

“Oh get cookies then leave?”

“I have a deadline, unfortunately, those spider-man pictures won’t edit themselves”

The mention of the hero's name causes you to perk up, as Peter is heading towards the door you muster up the courage to ask him about it. “Do you think maybe I could see some of your pictures sometime?”

Peter adjusted his bag on his shoulder opening the door, “Bring the cookies and you can look through all my photos. Later.”

Carefully you tie a neat blue bow on the bag to make sure it stays closed. Finally, you got the cookies done and to your credit, they are probably the best cookies you have ever made. Thank you internet for all the baking tips!

Looking out the window you see it is very late and it's time to get ready for bed after all your hard work. Stepping into your room you go to shut the curtains so you can get changed, but as you go to shut the curtains you have a stray thought…what if he's watching out there…swallowing your dry throat you keep the curtain open and turn your back to your window. He said he would be by later… it's later…

With trembling hands, you lift your shirt over your head dropping it to the floor as you shake your hair out.

Is he out there…

Sliding your hands down your body you start undoing your pants slowly, your body feels hot and you can feel your face flushing to a bright red as you strip down to your underwear, closing your eyes you go to slide down your panties.

The thought of his gloved hands roaming across your skin, the feeling of his weight and warmth pushed against you, stomach tying into knots and with a deep breath you open your eyes looking over your shoulder, and you see…

Nothing…

Whipping your hand down your face you quickly grab your pajamas and put them on. What were you doing stripping like he would be watching…Ugh, that is so embarrassing! You don’t know him and here you are getting horny like a fangirl, get a grip on yourself! You need to start meeting more people so you stop fantasizing about superheroes… maybe Peter has friends…or maybe Peter…

No! Not crossing that line, he's the only person you know in this city you can’t go mucking that up! No way! Off limits!

Walking to the kitchen you look at the two bags of cookies, Peters you will drop off tomorrow. A smile stretches to your lips, you two have become something akin to friends. It's a relief to have him not hate your guts still snarky though…but funny. Maybe you will run into him at school again…

Turning to the other back you feel your heart race increase, Spidys cookies… You hope that he enjoys these. There is the chance he might find this as a lame gift, you can only imagine what kinds of gifts he receives after saving people. Have others made him treats? Giving him money? Presents? Something else…would he want that…You swallow your dry throat and quickly write a note attaching it to the bag to keep your mind busy.

Do spiders enjoy sweets? - you include a doodle of a spider seemingly eating a cookie.

Hopefully, he likes them and isn’t disappointed by the thank you.

Walking over and opening the window there is a slight breeze that sends a chill through you. You wish you could leave the window open tonight to enjoy the breeze but you know better. Placing the bag of treats on the window seal you adjust the note and the bow so they look perfectly placed. Once set you look out into the glimmering lights of the city taking in the breeze, the sights, the noises, but that's when you hear a clearing of a throat. Looking up you see that iconic mask, body clinging to the wall as he looks down at you.

“You have a thank you for me?” his voice coos

You forget all about your cookies…

Tags:

@huesdreamhouse @keiva1000 @spdrwdw @betizda @lunablackcosplay @juliluvhz @avareadsthings @xxrougefangxx @briviny @llpovi @beautyb1ade @lulawantmula @kikieatshomophobes

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angelbaby-fics · 8 months

Text

No Matter What

Pairing: CG!Steve Rogers x Little!Reader (fem nicknames used)

Word Count: 1k

A/N: omg this idea has literally been in my docs since i started this blog and i only finally wrote it all out!! y'all know i loooove thinking about pre serum steve, and i love exploring that concept through the eyes of his little 💕 also i just wanna add, i dont think worms are icky or slimy! little was just being cheeky!

“Daddy? Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

The question took Steve by surprise; why would you even ask something like that? You were splayed out across the couch, torso propped up by pillows and one leg limply strewn over Steve’s thigh, exhausted from an hours-long playdate at Peter's house. The two of you had been sitting in silence as he read a book and you watched a cartoon on your tablet, when suddenly you popped the question.

“Why, babydoll? Are you planning on turning into a worm any time soon?” He said with a chuckle, which was apparently the wrong answer. Your face fell.

“You was s’posed to say yes, daddy,” you said with a frown.

“Absolutely I would, my baby, I’ll always love you no matter what.” Steve reassured you, giving a light pat to your socked foot. But you weren’t entirely convinced.

“You sure daddy? You’d still love me even if I was a icky slimy worm?” You raised your eyebrows at him.

“You’d still be my babygirl, right?”

You thought for a moment, pondering the logistics of worm transfiguration, before nodding.

“And you’d still have the same loving heart? And the same brilliant mind?”

You nodded again. “Then of course I would still love my beautiful baby, even if you were an adorable, tiny little worm.”

You giggled at this, and repositioned yourself to be nearer to your daddy, abandoning your tablet on the ground. Setting his book down as well, Steve wrapped his arms around you with a smile. As you buried yourself into his body, he softly ran his thumbs in circles on your back. Snuggling into his biceps, you mumbled into his muscles. “You’d have to be careful if I was a worm, cos daddy’s so big and strong!”

Steve kept stroking your back, but his hands slowed down as he began to get lost in thought. It didn’t take long for you to notice the change in his mood, so you pulled your head out from his embrace to check on him.

Your daddy had a look on his face you’d never seen before… not sad, but distant. Like his body was here with you, but his mind was back in the past. As soon as he felt your curious gaze on him, it was as if he snapped back into reality. Not wanting you to worry, he put on a soft smile and kissed you on the head, but you couldn’t let that moment go. “What’s wrong, daddy?” You asked, your eyes serious and pleading with him to be honest with you. He thought to himself for a moment and took a heavy breath.

“You know, babydoll, daddy didn’t used to be so big and strong. He was small once upon a time” Your eyes widened in disbelief.

“You mean you were small like a baby? Small like me?”

Steve nodded, cracking a smile at your shocked reaction.

“That’s right, only I wasn’t a baby. I was a grown up, but my body stayed tiny.”

“How come?”

“That’s just how I was born, sweetpea.”

“And then you work out lots and lots and eat your veggies and turned into big daddy like now?”

Steve sighed again.

“Not quite, angel. You see, I tried really hard to get big and strong like I am now, eating my veggies just like you said, but nothing helped. Then one day, a scientist gave me a special medicine, and it made me grow. All this happened before you were born, babydoll, so you didn’t know me back then.”

You furrowed your brows in contemplation. Although Steve had omitted any details unfit for a youngster like yourself, he hoped it still made sense in your tiny mind. You just couldn’t believe it though, daddy was always known for being strong and brave, it was even in his theme song! The thought of him being anything other than the man you’ve always known and loved just wouldn’t compute in your little head. Steve could tell you were still confused when he had an idea. Carefully, he stood up with you still entangled in his arms, and brought you over to the big bookshelf in the living room.

Steve went straight to the top shelf, the one you couldn’t reach, and pulled down the old photo album you’d always been curious about. The worn leather of the cover reminded you of an ancient spellbook, and no matter how many times you asked, Steve had never brought it down for you to look at until now. He brought it with him as he sat you back onto the couch, and took a seat next to you, opening the book across both of your laps.

Inside the book, you didn’t find spells at all, just pictures of people you couldn’t recognize. Black and white photos of a boy, who kind of reminded you of your friend Peter. He wore clothes that were just slightly too big on him, almost like he was pretending to be a grown up instead of actually being one. And his face looked familiar.

Suddenly, your jaw dropped. You looked up at Steve, back down to the photograph, back up at Steve, over and over, processing the puzzle you had just put together. “That’s you, daddy!” You cried out.

“I know!” Steve laughed. “Can you believe it?”

You shook your head, and resumed staring at the photo, your daddy’s familiar features becoming more and more obvious to you the longer you looked at it. Your attention was only torn from the image after a few minutes when Steve spoke up from beside you.

“Would you still love me if I were small?”

You looked up at him, his hopeful smile and his love-filled eyes. The same ones in the photo you’d been studying for the past five minutes. Softly, you reached up to cup his face in your tiny hands, feeling his cheeks fill with warmth as you did so.

“Same smile… same eyes… same daddy?” You asked.

“Yeah baby, same daddy.”

“Then yes. I always love daddy, no matter what.”

#little!reader #agere fic #steve rogers x reader #steve x little!reader #steve rogers x little!reader #cg!steve #cg!steve x little!reader #daddy!steve #daddy!steve rogers #chloe's fic

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sweetpandorabox · 1 year

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Peter Pevensie as a Boyfriend ⚔️🛡️

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨sweetpandorabox୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…⋙

Warnings ⚠️: Slight mentioned of sexual themes and some spicy stuff.

Dating this incredibly attractive, loyal protector and brave older Pevensie sibling could include:

👑👱🏻‍♂️🏰

He's really protective of you and often expresses how much he loves and cares for you, so much so that if anyone even tries to come close to hurting you by words or physically he won't hesitate to eliminate them.

He's quite a gentleman and believes that he has to take care of all the ladies in his life including his Mother, Susan, Lucy, and especially you. He would offer his arm when the two of you are waking together, he would bow to you when he greets you and he never lets you carry anything, Peter has that timeless chivalry personality about him.

Sword fighting lessons with him only for it to turn into an extremally spicy make-out session after, because of the build-up of sexual tension over time and the fact that he always wins with him pinning you down on the floor without even trying.

You are the only one that can calm him down after he blows up after fighting with his sibling or is stressing out about ruling Narnia.

He would see you falling asleep nearby the entrance of the castle waiting for him to return from a patrol ride around Narnia which he finds to be the most precious thing, then he'll pick you up in his arm and carry you to sleep in his bedroom and not your own one.

He calls you cute nicknames like Darling, Pretty, Lovely, or Princess.

Likes when you call him Pete, Darling, Sugar, or Your Highness (He likes when you call him that because it sounds so seductive coming from your mouth).

His love language is probably Acts of Services, sure he loves a good PDA once in a while and all the things you both did together as a date, but he's a natural server and protector. He shows his love by protecting you, making sure you're fed well and healthy, or the little things like helping you take off your gown, brushing your hair for you, or helping bathe you.

Ask for your input before making a big decision because he trusts you and relies on you for support especially if he has to debate it with his siblings first.

Horseback riding around the beach in Cair Paravel to watch the sunset, but the both of you would ride and share one horse with you sitting and wrapping your arm around his torso, while he leads the horse.

Whenever he sees you doing something and looks about busy he comes up behind you, and turns you to face him by spinning you around by the waist before caressing your cheek softly and then pulling you into a sweet yet passionate kiss.

He requests you specifically when he's hurt/injured after a battle or some tough fight training days to take care of him, like cleaning his wounds, being there to kiss him, holding his hand to lessen the pain, or performing some oral sex on him if he's in the mood (😏) instead of choosing his other loyal servants.

The two of you are always smiling around each other before it erupts into a fit of laughter out of nowhere ending up with you and Pete on the floor dying.

Lucy and Edmund would catch the both of you kissing or showing PDA somewhere then they'd look at each other and get grossed out saying "Eww" or "Get a room you two, there's a billion inside this castle", then you and Pete would somehow share the same mindset and start teasing them by kissing even more, or exaggerating the PDA until both Lucy and Edmund can't take anymore and run off, giving you and Pete a good laugh after.

When it comes to sex he's very gentle with you making sure to put you first before himself, despite how much you drive him crazy with lust because of how attractive you are to him, so it's mostly slow, passionate sex but he does love giving you a good hickey mark all over your neck and chest area or when you give him a bit of ear play to get him turned on.

He's actually quite funny intentionally most of the time and can be quite sassy as well which you find hilarious especially when he's annoyed, hungry, or frustrated.

Let's you wear and steal his white long-sleeve tunic for bed instead of proper pajamas because it looks adorable on you and fits slightly larger.

He falls for your cute puppy eyes every time, even if he says no multiple times or refuses your request at this moment it always works and he always says "Oh come on don't do this to me Darling" but then you'd plead and he would sigh before smiling and boom he says yes.

He never goes to sleep without solving a fight and he wouldn't let you sleep either until the both of you have a makeup kiss.

He doesn't seem to be the jealous type on the inside because he hides it so well from you, but when he sees someone staring at you for more than 5 seconds he rolls his eyes and kisses you out of nowhere.

Taglist:

@igncrantbliss @milivanili99 @thatdummy-girl @nighttimemoonlover

#peter pevensie #peter pevensie x reader #peter pevensie x you #headcanon #the pevensies #chronicles of narnia #narnia #narnia fanfiction #the chronicles of narnia #narnia fandom #fluff #romantic #imagines #imagine #aslan #cair paravel

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fallingskiesandrisingseas · 4 months

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The Peter Pevensie post did well.

Here's Edmund.

Edmund has trouble putting down his chess pieces that first time. In Narnia he could assume his opponent knew what he was doing, that chess was not just a game, that sacrificing pieces meant a unit, an officer, a collection of friends never seen again.

No one remembers that back in England, where chess is just a game, not a play preparing you for war.

He loses badly the first few times, too often distracted by thoughts of his dead friends. Thoughts of the ones alive, that he hopes to see soon.

Then he becomes unbeatable. When chess is about strategy again, no longer conjures images of men dying, sacrificed to gain a tactical advantage, Edmund becomes a master. Chess champion, of his region, of the country. Not a piece too many suffers.

It takes a few months. Those first ones in boarding school, Peter has to guard him. When bullies gang up on him for his strange way of talking (as if generals listen to his advice), strange way of walking (as if there is a weight on his hip), strange way of behaving (as if there are servants for his every need) Peter protects him. They've seen protective brothers; they've never seen anything quite like Peter, who hits until bone breaks.

Edmund will often remark on how the punches thrown his way lack technique, don't really hurt.

Everyone wonders how a 110 lb 11 year old kid knows anything about punching technique. He's a scrawny white boy from the city, doesn't look even slightly dangerous. How many fights has he been in, everyone wonders, to know what type of blow breaks bone, how to collect fingers into a fist.

When he is not protected by his brother, he displays the tricks he learned in treacherous courts in fantasy lands where the men could snap him in half with half a finger, where monsters ruled. Where only his silver tongue kept him safe.

It keeps bullies far away from him. They're not just afraid of physical repercussions, but of being expelled, reputations ruined, careers unreachable before they begin.

Peter retaliates either way, physical punishment along with the other repercussions. Still, it's strange to hear that the lanky sleepwalking teen mostly interested in political science knows anything about fighting, about blood.

By the third month in boarding school, Edmund has the staff wrapped around his finger.

His tongue is as silver as the lion ring he wears. Ed can talk any opponent into submisson. He can talk any girl into his bed, too, despite other men vying for their company. Sometimes he does it just to prove a point. It earns him a few more fights than he had to be in, but that's okay.

The ones stupid, angry or brave enough to physically fight him learn fast Edmund isn't easy prey, that he knows how to fight, how to think, how to outmanouvre you. Peter is a tornado, all fury, but Ed fights like a chess master. No wasted movement, no unnecessary punches, not moving a single inch more than he has to.

Fighting Peter hurts. People soon find that fighting Ed discourages. He doesn't really seem all that hurt by fighting, often quips when taking a fist to the gut. He can deal blows so nasty you feel the effects two weeks after.

The ones that fight him in groups, still willing to try, meet Peter's fists in a dark ally.

Still Edmund never needed Peter. Their bond is strange, sure, Peter copying his younger brothers' notes without remark, asking for his advice often and seriously.

But both know politics is Edmund's territory. At the start, no one messes with him due to his big brother, who always seems to hit harder than boys his age.

In time, Ed is feared more. Differently.

A fight with the oldest Pevensie brother ends in the infirmary, a fight with the youngest ends your career, ambition, prospects with the ladies.

Edmund knows what he can do. Knows his brother can do it too, but does not prefer it. He is known for his silver tongue, his brilliant mind. Peter, more so for his steel boots.

He plays chess, studies politics, does it right. Highest marks in his class, many extra-curriculars, a seemingly unbreakable bond with his sisters and brother, which he visits often everyone. No one can understand them when they are together, a strange lilt in their voices. Some people are little scared of him. He's a debate champion, talks rounds around anyone. Excellent chef, even though he only cooks for friends.

He's loyal to a fault, clever like the devil, and a perfect gentleman. In an archaic way. Ed is the kind of man to have a hankerchief in his pocket.

That's why no one unserious dates Susan or Lucy. They all know anything unserious ends badly.

Gradually, people start to like Edmund, even if they feared him at first. His smile is devilish, but also charming. Ed is free in his head, in his hands. Brilliant in many different ways, including fencing. There is a rumour in the halls, after a while. That Ed likes men too.

But no one talks.

Edmund goes into politics. He has a family that is in the top echolon of decison making, an analytical mind. Edmund has a talent for justice. In his presence, no one feels left out, everybody is heard. Many feel that with Ed as their PM they are finally represented. A noble man, even with his bloody knuckles, the unimpressive surname.

A statesman in everything. Fashion, vocabulary, manners.

But still he believes in Narnia, goes to see the spectre.

He is facing his brother in the train, happy, talking about Narnia when it crashes.

#narnia meta #narnia #edmund pevensie #edmund #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #prince caspian

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gavvaiins · 10 months

Text

lonely

summary: having to carry the future of multiple universes on his shoulders miguel simply is tired, tired and lonely.

pairing: miguel o'hara x gn!reader warnings: angst, pinch of fluff, less actions, more vibes; story's gender neutral but i feel it might be too female-coded? idk ; - ; word count: 3.7k

a/n: yeah ... this is longer than it needs to be. Might got confused by grammar later ... idk while writing i fell into a narrating-style crisis? It definetly doesn't help when the book you're reading is written is a different tense.

Sometimes all Miguel wished for was some time alone. In a building full of arachno-humanoids, constantly surrounded by either living people, holograms or other species there was sometimes not enough room to breathe. So, nothing reprehensible about wanting some time for himself.

However, Miguel wasn’t longing to be alone.

He didn’t need to.

He already was.

Despite being surrounded by dozens of spider-beings he was alone. He had no friends. Jess was a colleague, Peter Parker was a dear colleague, the best – and what was even Peter B. Parker? Honestly, Miguel didn’t know, but despite all these different Spider-People there was no one waiting for him. Not even in Nueva York, a city with far more citizens than anyone could count.

No one was waiting for him to come home – or to simply arrive, anywhere.

Lyla was nothing but an AI generated hologram, he created.

There was no one waiting for him.

And that was good. No one waiting for him meant safety; for him and for him. Without anyone there waiting for him to return home he could neither hurt nor lose someone. Miguel noticed that it wasn’t loneliness he was longing for, after all he was pretty much alone in his world, carrying the burden all by himself. Having time to breathe, to think that was what he was longing for. A moment without Lyla and the other arachno-humanoids, without having to think about anomalies and the downfall of universes.

All he wanted was peace.

“Miguel?” His body grew tense as your voice emerged from the dark, careful and soft, almost fearful as if you were entering a cave, unsure of what you’d meet in there. There was a chance that you hadn't spotted him yet, sitting on his lowered platform all by himself. Within moments he heard your voice he began holding his breath. If he didn’t make a sound, you wouldn’t catch him, which was a dumb and childish thought considering the lighting of the running monitors, which illuminated his big frame quite perfectly.

What were you even doing here? There was no need for you talking to him.

“Miguel?” You asked. He could sense the hesitation in your voice, it reminded him of the heroes in fairy tales, both brave and stupid enough to enter the dark woods full of beastly and hungry creatures. When Miguel thought about it, his room was a bit like a forest – or more a cave, dark and mysterious. To his surprise the light tremor in your voice didn’t stop you from further exploring the room. If this was truly a fairytale, you’d either be very brave or stupid, or both. Whatever it was Miguel would’ve eaten you alive.

But this wasn’t a fairytale, and he wasn’t the big, bad wolf, ready and hungry enough to devour you. But why didn’t you stop?

Why were you still going?

He was the Spider-Man who hoped not to be found by anyone, especially not you.

With every passing second Miguel’s body grew more, and more tense, his lungs felt strained, knowing very well that with every step you took, you were closer to seeing him. He knew that it would’ve been smarter to swing away, to simply vanish in the dark. But he couldn’t move. Something in him didn’t want to flee, despite his longing for peace and serenity. He was like a spider trapped in its own web, paralyzed by his own poison.

Maybe he longed for you to find him.

“Miguel.” Your voice was nothing but a whisper, not entirely fearful but caring as well. Yet, Miguel kept using the tactics of a child. Stoic and stiff did he keep his posture, eyes on the ground, head buried in his arms; if he couldn’t see you, you couldn’t see him either. Rather he avoided your eyes, your whole presence like the plague.

How did he, Spider-Man 2099, guardian of the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse and destroyer of a whole universe, look like? A mountain of a man hunched on his sunken platform, hiding his face like a fearful child, who didn’t know where to put its overwhelming feelings. He used to be an authority, always standing high on his platform, towering over and looking down on you. But now it was you who looked down on him, a pile of misery in blue and red barely illuminated by flickering screens.

“Oh, Miguel.” He could sense your presence beside him, he could sense everything of you – your pity and empathy was almost sickening. Your body was awfully close but kept a minimal distance of respect, and to his own surprise Miguel felt his tense muscles relax.

Finally, he found himself able to breathe again.

For a moment you said nothing, no Miguel, no how are you. No words left his lips either. You two sat in silence and Miguel enjoyed it, a little – sitting with you in the dark, just the two of you and he hated to admit it, but he began missing his name rolling off your tongue. His name sounded so soft and caring, like he meant something, like he was someone others cared for.

Someone you cared for.

And something inside of him longed hearing you say his name, again, and again.

To his own surprise he needed it, and he surprised himself by how desperately he needed to hear his name coming from you.

“Miguel?” Ah, there it was. Finally. It was embarrassing admit how Miguel’s heart enjoyed it deeply, hearing his name rolling of your tongue. It felt like warm milk mixed with honey running down his throat, filling his body with warmth and a feeling of serenity, of home. Despite his inner positive response to your presence he didn’t move, nor did he speak. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

Feeling your knee nudge his thigh, his body grew tense again. The touch was subtle, yet it alarmed all his senses, as if your touch could hurt him. Couldn’t you just continue gently serenading his name, like a sweet lullaby he could relax and fall asleep to? Miguel didn’t need to talk with you about his feelings. He didn’t want to.

“Doesn’t – “

“Leave me alone,” he grumbled, words swallowed by the void underneath his arms.

“– look like nothing,” you said. No answer, and for a moment you grew quiet. He had no idea what you were doing but he could hear you shifting in your seat beside him. Were you finally leaving?

No.

He wanted you to leave, didn’t he? Yes … that’s what he wanted.

But you weren’t leaving, he knew it when he felt your gentle touch on his shoulder. His muscles jumped slightly under your touch as if your fingers were ice cold or burning hot. They weren’t. Your touch was light, careful, like a butterfly dancing on his skin. First came your fingers, gracing his scapula as if you were testing the waters, then rested your palm on his shoulder and despite the highly advanced suit he was wearing, it felt like his skin was burning – a malfunction, an electric shock.

His heart jumped.

It was too much.

“I said, leave me alone!” Forceful, almost feral, he slapped your hand away. Risen to his full dominating size Miguel was panting heavily, fangs bared, talons shown and eyes gleaming of anger … and hurt, and loneliness, confusion. He looked like a beast, tall and furious, ready to strike or devour you.

“Miguel.” He tried not to flinch. He hated the sound of your voice; it didn’t feel soothing anymore. Instead, it was laced with fear, but mostly hurt. But what was he expecting? Miguel had scared you; he had hurt you.

Good.

Lyla would scold him for being an ass. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he needed to, and if that’s what’s needed to leave him be, he’d endure it … and he would do it again, if he needed to. Despite his body telling him differently, he neither needed you nor your pity.

His initial thought was that his plan was working. The big, bad Spider-Man was indeed an asshole, who made you cry for no reason. Never would you talk or even look at him again, which he told himself was fine. But you weren’t crying. Sure, you were holding your arm protectively close to your body as if his talons had teared through your suit, making you bleed. But no sign of tears rimming your eyes, plus, you weren’t leaving.

You were still here.

“What the fuck?”

Why wasn’t it working? “I told you to leave me.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you still there?” With satisfaction he watched you thinking of a good response, gears turning in your head, to no avail. Your mouth opened slightly before pressing it shut, eyes lowering to your hands folded in your lap. That was it; without anything to retort you surely would leave him.

Again, the two of you sat in complete silence. One he didn’t enjoy, but need, and surely neither did you. However, he was sure that you’d given up, any second, and leave him alone. “Is that really what you want?”

He looked at you, blinking.

“Is it really what you want?” You repeated, staring into his dark eyes and there is something in yours that scared him. Miguel couldn’t tell what it was, there was no poison in your eyes, no malice, yet he was afraid. “Do you really wish to be alone?”

You scared him, and that’s nothing anyone would ever associate with you. He hated to admit it, but he was, not of your physical strength or arachno-powers. Surely, he could easily knock you out. Rather he was afraid that you’d find something you weren’t supposed to see.

Miguel hesitated. “Yes.”

“I have to.” It just slipped out of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to speak his mind, even if it was just a bit. You weren’t supposed to know. But now you knew something that was meant to stay hidden, that was meant only for himself. A burden he had meant to carry himself. There was no reason to hide, yet there was no reason to face you either, so Miguel did what he could best, being alone. With a heavy sigh he crept back into the shell he so shamefully had lost. This time Miguel didn’t burry himself beneath his arms, instead he stared in the darkness of his office, waiting for you to leave. By that time, he should’ve known that you wouldn’t leave him.

Not like that.

“Oh, Miguel.” Again, his name was nothing but a soft whisper, comforting. There lied some sadness behind his name, yet it was all he had wished for moments ago, before he lashed out at you. “You are not alone. We’re all Spider-Man.”

Some incomprehensible grumble left his lips, how should he explain? It wasn’t your fight, neither was it Peter Parker’s, only his. “It was me.”

“I’ve done this,” he said before you could even think of calling him again.

“I –“ Miguel’s breath hitched and for a second his heart stopped beating, stumbling over its own rhythm as he felt your fingers dancing on his skin again.

How dare you?

He wanted to bare his teeth at you, again, he wanted to scare you, to push you away from him, but he couldn’t. His mind told him to, like he used to do whit so many people before. You knew too much about him. But his heart, his body, craved for the softness of your voice, longed for the warmth of your heart. Carefully your fingers grazed his skin, almost waiting for some sign of permission until they could finally rest on his cheeks. Despite wearing your spider-suit your hand felt surprisingly soft on his skin.

With a sigh he leaned into the comfort of your touch, until he remembered who he was and what he did. His head shot up like your hand was hurting him but before he could utter any more words of misery you placed both of your hands on his cheeks, gently forcing him to look at you.

“You’ve done what? Jumping through the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse.” Your voice was calm and gentle, as was your smile. He could barely look at you. “That is quite a complicated name, maybe you should think about calling it spider-verse instead.”

Miguel meant to smile at your joke, even if only subtle, a ghost of a smile only you’d be able to detect and in any other situation he would. But he couldn’t. Not now, when he’d say something so gruesome that would paint him in a different light. However, the truth didn’t want to roll over his tongue, revealing who he really was, not when you so gently smiled at him, caressing his skin with your fingers. Heaving a sigh, he let go, and melted into your touch like warm butter. Was it good to let his guard down? Probably not. Neither was it professional to lean into your touch, almost gracing your clothed wrist with his lips. It wasn’t good but it felt good, the softness of your touch, the warmth seeking through your spider-gloves. If you’d allow it, he will fall asleep right here in your arms.

It was impossible for him to resist.

If only Lyla could see him now … big, bad wolf turned into a puppy.

However, he was left dumbfounded when he found himself stripped of your touch, even more so, when he found himself disliking the sudden coldness. Wanting to know what went wrong Miguel starred at you but nothing seemed to have changed. You still looked at him with the same fondness and empathy in your eyes, the only difference was that you’re patting your lap. His eyes followed your directions, and he grew hesitant.

“May I?” It should’ve been Miguel asking and not you. Though, resting on your thighs was a nice, almost heavenly thought but he shouldn’t enjoy your comfort too much. “Miguel, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s okay.” He declined.

“C’mon Miguel, it’s comfortable I promise,” you smiled, but he didn’t move. Surely it must be more comfortable than hanging in your hands, but Miguel couldn’t let himself fall on your lap. Already he was enjoying the tenderness of your fingers too much, what would happen if he rested on your thighs? Would he melt into them like he did with your hands? The though was nice but he resisted, not for long though. Tugging, basically dragging him by his arms, you somehow managed to pull his heavy body down on your lap. Carefully he shifted his weight, so only his head and upper body were lying on you. He didn’t want to crush you. However, the feeling that spread through his body as he rested on your thighs was both nice, comfortable and weird. Overall, it was a weird sensation and he’d found himself in a situation he’d never dreamed about before.

“May I?” Miguel had no idea what you were up to, yet he agreed with a hum. His eyes fell close and he hummed again, when he felt your fingers carefully dancing over his body, moving from his shoulder to his hair. It wasn’t the same when you held him in your hands, fingers holding him and caressing his cheeks. It felt different but good, relaxing your hands running through his hair, gently scratching his scalp. And sometimes he could feel the ghost of your fingertips brushing over his face.

He didn’t know how long you stayed in this position, sitting in silence, him resting on your lap and you caressing him like a pet. Miguel couldn’t remember the last time somebody did this for him or when his muscles felt so relaxed. Again, if you’d allow it, he’ll fall asleep right here by your side. But then he remembered what you asked him a long time ago.

“I killed them.” Miguel’s voice was surprisingly calm, even to him. Neither knowing what he meant nor how to answer this, you remained silent. But he could feel your eyes on him. He wasn’t sure if he liked it … not after confessing murder. Yet, he explained, “I killed them all, billions of people, my – his daughter Gabriella, all because I was selfish. – Gabby died because I was foolish to believe that my actions wouldn’t have any consequences.”

His confession shocked you; he could hear it in the change of your breathing and the stillness of your hands, and something in him died. Shocked by his confession you surely would leave. Push him off you like something disgusting. Maybe you would never talk to him again, unless it was necessary, and the thought scared him. His mind had told him to push you away. It was best to handle it all by himself, it was what he always did. But the stupidity people called the heart had won and now the thought of you leaving scared him.

“Tell me what happened.” Your voice was calm, not scared, not soft, just calm. It wasn’t the reaction Miguel had imagined, especially not when your fingers continued to play with his hair. You weren’t even disgusted by him. What kind of person were you to not leave him? “Tell me what happened.”

And he did. Miguel told you everything. How he took the role of a dead man, living his life and raising his daughter. He made it clear that he thought of his actions as selfish and stupid, because he erased a whole universe and with that Gabriella’s future. Never would he forget the fear in her eyes, how she clung to him, looking for safety, calling for her dad – for him, not knowing her real dad has died – until she disappeared as well.

Telling his nightmare was awful, remembering the horrors of his action never got any less painful. But sharing it with you felt surprisingly relieving. It wasn’t like he was healed from his pain but telling you about it made it a little more bearable. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

How should he answer? Thank you? Moments ago, Miguel would’ve grumbled at the pitiful – no, empathic, he’d learned that much by now – tone in your voice but now he liked it, just as he enjoyed you calling him by his name. Miguel didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t think you killed them, Miguel,” you said after an eternity, never stopping playing with his brown strands. Careful he shifted his weight to look at you. Even with one eye lazily opened, he decided that he liked looking at you, watching how you react to him. “Then, who did?”

Wringing with the words on your tongue you hesitated. “I don’t know.”

In normal circumstances Miguel would be grim, and scoff at your naïve words, claiming to be the villain of his story. The selfish murderer of Gabriella O’Hara. However, now he felt rather tame and tired. It’s enough for him. So, he only hummed, closing his eye to revel in the fondness of your touch.

“But you can’t know either.” He looked at you again. He had to correct you, he knew, it was obvious, really. But before an answer could roll over his tongue you were quick to intervene. “I know what you’re going to say, Miguel. You’ve seen it and to you it makes sense, but listen – I … how does anything make any sense? Multiple universes, anomalies, canon events … we shouldn’t even be here, Miguel. I shouldn’t, none of us. But here we are.”

There’s a hint of sadness in your tone, faint yet he heard and didn’t like it. Miguel knew you’d meant to comfort him but, in the end, you’d realized, that nothing of this should’ve happened. You should’ve never met the friends you made in the spider society, never should’ve met him and never found him dark, and lonely in his room. Almost instinctively his hand reached out to you, gently cupping your face. Now it was his turn to comfort you, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. Unsure if he should draw small circles with his thumb, like he wanted to, or caress like you used to do, he just held you. “Don’t. – The multiverse is mine to preserve.”

“Oh, Miguel.” A soft, but sad smile graced your lips as you laid your hand over his, unwilling to let him go. “It’s not yours, either.”

“But it was my fault, not yours. Don’t worry about something I’ve done.”

You sighed. “Miguel, you shouldn’t carry this burden alone, we’re all Spider-Man. It’s not your duty alone to save the multiverse, you can’t do this alone. I – I think what I’m saying is, you’re not alone, Miguel. You might think that you’ve to do all by yourself but that’s not the truth, we help you, all of us. We will carry that burden with you, I will.”

Truly it was sweet how caring you were, none of you could – and should – carry the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse on your shoulders. It was his job to preserve one less universe from being destroyed. It was his shoulders who had to carry the burden of it all, not yours. None of you should ever have to worry about the stability of your universe. But there was something burning in your eyes as you spoke, something Miguel enjoyed watching. So instead of objecting and lecturing you about the truth he heaved a hefty sigh and closed his eyes, making himself comfortable in your lap. It takes some time until you picked up where you left playing with his hair, gently scratching his skin here and there.

It's quiet as you ran your fingers through his hair, he doesn’t even move. You weren’t even sure if he was still breathing. But you swore you heard a hum, a content sound vibrating through his big body. However, when you try to check on him there’s nothing, no sound, no movement, not even a smile. Miguel simply looked like he’s asleep, stoic and grim – just like when he’s awake. It’s a silly though, him always looking serious no matter if he’s asleep or wake, it made you smile. However, in rare moments, when you’re not looking at him, his lips curl into a grin.

#atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #reader-insert #marvel #spiderman x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #spiderman 2099 #x reader

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scoobydoodean · 5 months

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Okay so in 1.03 Dead In The Water, there's this exchange Sam and Dean have at one point in regards to Lucas—the little boy who watched his dad drown, who Dean connects with during the episode:

DEAN Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died. SAM There are cases—going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies. DEAN Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please.

And the last time I watched this episode, I went "Oh cool! A little Psychic!Sam Easter Egg." Right? Sam goes through the traumatic experience of losing Jess, and he's tapped into "whatever's out there" (the yellow eyed demon) and he's having premonitions about what he's going to do next. Which definitely makes a lot of sense.

But when I was gif-ing stuff from 1.03 today, I realized that... funnily enough, within the context of this episode we also have some fun stuff relating to the "slightly psychic Dean" posts that have gone around this year... Or if you prefer, Cassandra!Dean. Cassandra, in reference to the prophet in Greek myth, cursed by Apollo to utter true prophecies but never be believed.

Dean often knows when bad things are going to happen in Supernatural. He doesn't have visions—but he has "bad feelings" and makes predictions that turn out to be scarily accurate at times. Of course we can infer that Dean is just good at 1) reading people and 2) understanding how sequences of events tumble one by one in a row like so many dominoes. It's another sign of his incredible intelligence. But it IS fun to think about Dead In The Water as the first indication of Cassandra!Dean.

First, because Lucas has premonitions, and Lucas and Dean are paralleled and connect on an emotional level.

Dean and Lucas have similar traumatic childhood experiences. Both watched a parent die and both lost the ability to speak afterwards:

DEAN You're scared. It's okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn't feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too.

Dean is able to connect with Lucas through their shared traumatic experience. He's the only one who's able to get through to him—and after a short conversation and just drawing together for a while—much to his mom's shock. Dean is able to understand what Lucas is feeling without Lucas saying it.

Second, because Lucas has bad feelings that tell him the locations where the spirit will strike next, but no one listens to/believes him.

...Kind of like people usually don't listen to/believe Dean's bad feelings.

DEAN Anyway. Well, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you, or, uh...or believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake.

Of course, this line is just Dean paralleling Lucas with himself and his own reasons for not speaking, but it must hit home, because Lucas begins communicating with Dean through drawings.

Further, despite Sam also knowing Lucas is having premonitions, when Lucas reacts with extreme distress to the idea of going home and clings to Dean desperately, Sam still... doesn't think it means anything. He thinks the case is over.

Third, Dean has a bad feeling that the case isn't over, and Sam doesn't believe him.

The sheriff had just threatened to arrest them if they stayed in town, so of course going back to town is a big deal. When Dean turns around based on a bad feeling, Sam thinks he's just being paranoid.

SAM But Dean, this job, I think it's over. DEAN I'm not so sure. SAM If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest. DEAN All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt? SAM But why would you think that? DEAN Because Lucas was really scared. SAM That's what this is about?

Dean sticks to his guns, and they arrive just in time to save Lucas's mother from drowning in a bathtub.

#1.03 #he is literally cassandra #pk rewatches spn number ?#parallels #season 1

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babyhatesreality · 2 years

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Need You Now

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x little f!reader

Summary: Captain America and the Winter Soldier have been in high demand recently, and have barely been home. Or....have you become just too much for them?

Warnings: Agere (SSC), f! reader, angst, reader is named but used sparingly, reader gets sad, temper tantrum, scolding, timeouts, threat of spanking, tears, fluff because I’m soft and this world is not.

You could hear them bustling around in the apartment, trying to be quiet so as not to wake you. Little did they know you’d been awake for a while, snuggling Jellybean the Bunny under your soft purple blankets. You rubbed your cheek against her gentle silky fur, trying to soothe yourself from all the bad feelings threatening to creep up again.

Steve and Bucky had been ridiculously busy lately. They had taken an important mission over in Wakanda, leaving you in the care of Tony and Pepper for three days. You and Peter had had a blast together, but all the same you were eager for your daddies to return home. Until the very next day, when they got called to appear before the SHIELD board with T’Challa to give a briefing in person. This time, Sam came to stay with you in the apartment for the two days they were gone. It was fun staying up late and eating junk food with him (all in the name of being declared ‘the most fun uncle’), but you were really starting to miss your daddies. And they didn’t call as much as they normally did when they were away.

It was about then that a faint fear started creeping up on you. They...they weren’t avoiding you, were they? They were the bravest, most bestest superheroes in the whole world, and their job was very important. They had to go away sometimes to save the world. You knew this well, but as you regressed littler and littler from missing them, it was harder to stop from wondering if they were trying to stay away.

Two days ago, Steve and Bucky had been back all of four hours when they got called away again. They had held you in their arms the entire time they’d been home, right up until they had to board the Quinjet, and it had almost been enough to convince you they weren’t leaving on purpose.

But you’d been a brave, big girl, watching as they waved goodbye until they couldn’t see you anymore. You’d been well behaved for Sam, so he didn’t question the fact that you were quieter than normal, although he did bring it up to Steve in a text message. Steve and Bucky had gotten home in time to give you your bath and tuck you into bed, but the very next day they were gone again, this time until well past bedtime. They’d read you a story over FaceTime, with Sam holding up the phone for you, and you’d fallen asleep in your own bed before they’d finished.

That had been last night. And you didn’t need super soldier hearing to tell that they were getting ready to leave again this morning.

The door to your room quietly opened, but your back was to it so you couldn’t tell who it was. You didn’t hear anything until there were soft fingers combing through your hair. It was Bucky, then. He had been trained to move silently in his previous life. Who would have thought he’d end up using that training to not wake his sleeping little?

“Good morning, Princess,” Bucky said softly. You turned abruptly to face him, still clutching Jellybean. Bucky seemed a little surprised. “How long have you been awake, Baby?” he asked, brushing the hair out of your face. You didn’t answer, but nuzzled your nose into Jellybean again. “Are we feeling littler than normal today?” he said, a slight chuckle in his voice. When you didn’t answer again, his brow furrowed.

“You feeling alright, kiddo?” Bucky asked, confused by your lack of action and exuberance. You held your arms out to him instead, just wanting to be held.

Daddy immediately scooped you up and cuddled you into his massive and warm chest. You clung to the teeshirt that he wore- it smelled of leather, vanilla, sandalwood and cinnamon, him and Papa both. You wanted them here, needed them here, but you just couldn’t find the words to tell him that. Bucky gently put his hand on your forehead to make sure you weren’t running a fever or something, still puzzling out why you were acting this way. He rubbed your back with his vibranium hand; the coolness of the metal usually soothed you.

“How ‘bout some breakfast?” Daddy asked, wondering if you were just hangry. You turned into a right little monster when you were hangry. Still keeping you snuggled in to his chest, he stood up and walked towards the kitchen, taking Jellybean from your hands and leaving her on your bed. You whined unhappily- this meant the day was moving on and you were going to be left again. Bucky misinterpreted your fussing. “Jellybean needs to stay here, we don’t want her trying to steal your food. C’mon, let’s go see Papa, he’s got something yummy for you I bet.” You just buried your face in his neck, grumbling softly, wishing you could find the right words.

The smell of scrambled eggs and toast wafted deliciously, but you were too upset to eat, so you tightened your hold on Bucky’s neck. “Hey Stevie, we got us a little grumpy bunny this morning,” he said in a teasing tone. You growled at that- you weren’t grumpy- but that only made Bucky laugh. “See what I mean? We need some breakfast, stat.” He turned to put you down in your chair, but you whined loudly, keeping as tight a hold on him as you could.

Bucky easily broke your grip on him, but placed a long, gentle kiss on your forehead. “It’s okay Grumpy Bunny, Papa’s gonna fix you up with food and then you’ll be much happier, okay? I gotta get ready to go. Be good and eat up.” You yowled loudly in protest as he walked away, but he didn’t even turn around. You huffed and crossed your arms, trying to be angry instead of sad.

Right at that moment, Steve approached you with your favorite baby animals plate. He laughed softly at the pout on your face, it was so adorable. “I see Daddy was right- we got us a grumpy bunny this morning,” he said as well. You were really annoyed now.

“Nodda gwumpy bunny,” you grumbled, immediately disproving your statement. Instead of teasing like Daddy had though, Papa smiled softly, placing the plate down in front of you.

“Okay, angel, you’re not a grumpy bunny,” he said soothingly, reaching out to stroke your cheek. His touch made you want to cry- you needed so much more of it. “Can you be a good bunny then and eat your breakfast? We’ve got to get you packed up to go spend the day with Uncle Tony and Peter.”

This was too much. You only got dumped off with Uncle Tony when they were going to be gone for a while. You didn’t know how to express yourself or your sadness, so you just sat there. “Do you want me to feed you, angel?” Steve asked, a bit thrown off by your lack of action. He pulled his chair over next to yours, then reached over to pick up the fork. But you surprised him by clambering onto his lap instead, pressing your front to his and wrapping your arms around his neck as tight as you could.

Papa immediately responded by rubbing your back, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. “What’s wrong with my baby girl, huh?” he murmured softly into your ear. “Can you tell me what’s going on?” You whined miserably, not even wanting to talk now- just wanting to be held and not left behind.

Steve, while loving your clinginess, was getting a bit worried. This was so out of character for you, but you weren’t talking to him, so how was he supposed to fix this? He was even more eager now to get going on this last briefing and just get it over with so he could come home to you. “C’mon, let’s eat so you can go play and have fun with Peter, okay?”

“No!”

“Hey, I know you’re upset, but you don’t speak to me like that sweetheart,” Steve gently reprimanded. “You know better.”

That made you even more upset. You’d finally found a word and you were immediately scolded for it? Didn’t he want you to talk to him? You pushed your face harder into his neck, losing all words in your feelings and only able to whine. Trying not to feel frustrated at his own shortcomings for not being able to help you, Steve reached over to pick up a piece of toast.

“C’mon angel, you need to eat. Do you want some jelly on your toast?” he asked, trying to tempt you with sweets. You gave a loud, angry growl, turning your mouth into his shoulder. “Katie,” Steve said firmly. “You need to eat, right now. Please stop this.” He tried jostling you a bit to get to you turn your face back to him, but you weren’t budging. “Baby, listen to me. You need to eat. We have to get going. Now.”

Before you were even fully aware of it, you turned and angrily smacked the toast out of his hand. You both froze for a second, surprised at your actions. You hadn’t meant to do that, but you were out of options and the idea of eating was just way too much for you to handle.

Steve recovered before you could. He grabbed you by your little shoulders, holding you away a bit so you could see his angry eyes. “That was very naughty, little girl,” he scolded, making you feel even worse. “You know better than to act like that. I know you’re upset but that does not give you permission to misbehave.” He stood up, taking you with him and marched straight to your timeout mat. “You think about your behavior, little miss.” He plopped you down, perhaps a bit more harshly than he’d meant to, but you didn’t make a sound. You were still recovering from the shock of your actions, and now you found yourself facing a cold, lonely corner while your daddies ignored you and got ready to leave you yet again. They must be done with you- you couldn’t even eat like their good girl anymore. Who would want to stay with such a bad girl? Tears started running down your face.

Bucky angrily made his way back to the kitchen the moment he’d heard the altercation from the other room. He’d been very clear from day one that you were not to hit either of them EVER, and he knew that Steve was too much of a softy to discipline you properly (in his mind) for hitting. He wasn’t about to let you get away with this with only a timeout.

Steve saw the fire in Bucky’s eyes the second he appeared at the threshold to the room, and then he saw Bucky glare at your tiny form in the corner. He knew exactly what was in his husband’s head. “Buck,” Steve warned before he could take a step towards you. Bucky’s head snapped to him.

“She hit you,” he responded, steely unforgiveness in his tone. That only made the tears run faster down your face and you sniffed a bit, but you didn’t dare turn your head to look. His super soldier hearing picked up on your sniffles immediately, but he ignored the little flare of protectiveness that ignited at your crying.

“She didn’t hit ME, she knocked her breakfast out of my hand,” Steve corrected. Bucky spread his hands out to Steve as if to say what’s the difference? Steve responded with his own look of come on, man. “She’s having a rough morning. After her timeout, we’ll see if we can get her to talk to us and tell us what’s going on.” Bucky’s glare didn’t change one bit. “Buck,” Steve said softly, as only he knew how to.

The fire dulled slightly in Bucky’s eyes, and instead of storming over to you and putting you over his knee to paint your little butt red, he stiffly made his way over to Steve. “You know I’m not going to tolerate hitting, Steve,” he said firmly. Steve reached out and rubbed his husband’s arms soothingly, trying not to smile at the notion that both of his loves were being grumpy bunnies this morning. He dropped his voice so you wouldn’t hear.

“I know, sweetheart, I know. And I’m not saying you should...but just...grant her a little grace this morning, okay? She’s clearly upset about something. And you and I are both too stressed out. We all need a little timeout.”

Bucky suddenly heaved a huge sigh, running his hand down his face and trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “After today, we’re getting family leave for a week, I don’t care what the board says,” he snarled quietly, more to himself than at Steve. “We’ve spent more time away from her than we have with her in so long. And that’s not right. Fury can shove it if he tries to send us out again. We are not spending enough time with her and it’s killing me.”

Steve nodded in agreement, thinking, the puzzle pieces coming together. “Do you...Buck, do you think that’s what’s causing her to act out? Do you think she’s missing us too?” Bucky’s blue eyes shot to Steve’s, and Steve could see the cogs turning.

“Only one way to find out,” Bucky said grimly, turning his gaze back to your tiny, hunched over figure in the corner. His heart twisted at the sight of you sitting there, all alone. “She didn’t want to talk to me this morning. Did you have any luck?”

Steve shook his head. “No, but we have to try again.” His eyes drifted to his watch. You still had thirty seconds left, but screw it. He needed to hold you now. “Katie-Cat, come here please,” he called to you in a soft tone.

At the special nickname that only your daddies got to call you, you crumbled. You folded in half in the corner, putting your head down and sobbing uncontrollably. Before you knew it, you felt yourself being lifted off the floor, cradled in a pair of warm arms.

Papa carried you back to the couch, Daddy suddenly and anxiously right at his side. They were shushing you and petting you, trying as hard as they could to soothe you while you sobbed. Papa pressed his cheek to the top of your head, murmuring that it was all okay. You opened one teary eye to see Daddy looking at you directly, his face lined with worry. You twisted into Papa’s chest at that, knowing that you’d been really bad and that Daddy wouldn’t tolerate your behavior. This was it. They were going to let you go, you just knew it.

“Baby, please talk to us,” Steve pleaded, unable to keep the heartbreak from his voice. “Please. We’re not going anywhere. We’re right here and we need you to talk to us. Please, honey, please.”

“I...”

“Yes, Baby? What is it?”

“I sowwy I bad,” you finally hiccuped out. Papa’s arms squeezed tighter around you.

“Oh angel,” he said sorrowfully, wishing he could soothe the angst in your heart. “You’re having a bad day and you made a bad choice. You’re not bad. You’re our good little girl.”

“Bu-but,” you said, hiccuping again through your tears. You couldn’t find the words again, so you pointed back to the table where you’d knocked the toast out of Papa’s hand. You looked fearfully up at Bucky. “Sowwy Daddy, sowwy,” you cried, hoping they understood.

Bucky’s face contorted. He leaned back, suddenly afraid of how angry he’d been. He was scaring you, and that cut deeply. He’d spent so many years being the scary bad guy through no choice of his own, and now here he was again, doing it of his own free will. And with one of the people in this world who actually loved him. “I’m so sorry, baby girl,” he whispered, desperately wanting to reach for you but terrified that you would flinch away. “Daddy is so sorry, he didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I bad,” you said miserably, wiping your hand under your runny nose. On instinct, Bucky plucked a tissue from the box on the end table and wiped your nose, then used his thumb to dry the tears from your cheeks. He was almost done before he fully realized he was touching you. Just as he was about to withdraw, afraid of making you even more scared, you desperately latched onto his hand, putting it flat on the side of your face and nuzzling into it. “I m-miss y-you and P-papa,” you finally managed to stutter out.

There it was. Steve’s heart shattered at your admission. You were missing them just as much as they were missing you. He felt like the worst caregiver in the world. He had been so focused on getting the job done so he could get back to you that he hadn’t realized that doing the job was taking its toll on all of you. “My sweet, perfect little girl,” he said, trying to pour all the love he had into those words. His heart mended just a bit when you turned your gaze to his in wonder. “Papa and Daddy are so sorry that we’ve been gone so much. We have missed our baby so much, and we’re so sorry.”

“Sorry, angel,” Bucky echoed, his voice laced with emotion. “We’ve been wanting to be home with you so badly. We didn’t realize that you felt the same way.”

“Miss you both!!” you said, popping up suddenly, batting the tears from your cheeks, relieved that you found words again. “Don’t wanna go!! Please, I be good!!”

“Go?” Steve asked, confused. “You’re not going anywhere, angel.”

“I not?”

“No, baby, why would you think that?”

“Cause I was bad and you not home.”

“Fuck,” Bucky cursed softly, the full implications of what you’d been thinking hitting him square in the face. You fell back against Steve chest, pointing a little at Bucky.

“Dat’s a no-no word, Daddy,” you said, ever so softly. Then you giggled.

That little laugh suddenly made their world a whole lot brighter. Steve couldn’t help the relieved laughter that came bubbling out of his own mouth. “You’re right, munchkin,” he said, a tear rolling down his cheek. “Guess Daddy’s going to get his mouth washed out with soap, huh?” That made you giggle even more. Bucky couldn’t help himself. He reached for you, and when you went willingly to him, he felt his heart piece itself back together.

“Listen, baby girl,” he said, much more confident now that he knew you felt safe in his arms again. “Papa and I will never make you go away. If you choose to go, that’s your choice, but please hear me. You’re our family. And we love you so much.”

“Even when I bad?”

“Even when you make bad choices.”

“I don’t gotta go?”

“Nope.”

“And you gonna stay today?”

Bucky looked up at Steve to find him already on the phone, his face set determinedly. He gave him a crooked smile before turning his loving gaze on you. “Try and keep us away from you today, Trouble,” he said, nuzzling your nose.

After politely but firmly telling Fury of the change of plans, Steve and Bucky didn’t set you down the whole day. You finally gobbled down your breakfast, followed by a round of your favorite cartoons while you were passed in between your daddies, cuddling the whole time. The rest of the day was just the three of you, against the world, as it would always be.

#bucky barnes x little!reader #daddy bucky #daddy!bucky #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy bucky x little reader #steve rogers x little!reader #daddy steve #daddy!steve #daddy!steve x little!reader #daddy steve x little reader #daddy!stucky #daddy stucky #daddy!stucky x little!reader #daddy stucky x little reader #agere #agere little

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 9 months

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a spiders bite

pairing: spider-man!ethan landry x female!reader

WC: 1.5K

warnings: cursing, mention of panic attacks. should be it!

summary: ethan doesn’t seem to understand that his actions are hurting the people that love him.

A/N: spider-man au is like top 5 best AUs! definitely plan to write more in the future for ethan and others. i like to think i was the first one to mention jack as a peter parker varient (i wasn’t the first) honestly would be down for a part2 if there are requests/ideas.

also would love to plug @echnated for their WONDERFUL spider-man!ethan x black cat!reader and @burnyouwithacigarettelighter and their spider-man!ethan series💗💗

@alecmores my editor🫶🏻

been in the drafts since april 22

masterlist / ethan landry

“you’re an idiot. an actual idiot!”

“how am i-“ “you could have gotten killed or revealed your identity!” a swift smack to his chest with the back of your hand.

“how about a- a thank you, you know? instead of this hostility?” ethan yanked the bug-eyed mask off his face and his pillow of curls stuck out in all directions.

“i don’t think you deserve a thank you after the stunt you pulled. wha- what made that smart mind think, ‘yeah, one hundred percent a good idea’?” arms crossed over your chest as you waited for an answer.

he opened his mouth with his hands held up and out, it looked like he had an answer ready, but his mouth closed and his arms dropped. he closed his eyes and tilted his head at the ceiling, a sigh leaving his nose.

“look, i was in a tough spot. i had to think in the moment and sometimes those aren’t the smartest ideas.” you scoffed, “damn right.”

ethan rolled his eyes at you and smoothed a gloved hand over his sweaty face. you kept your defensive stance as you blankly stared at ethan for almost getting himself hurt. acting like a bitch was your facade when you wanted to keep your emotions hidden and in check, but you knew the longer this conversation continued you’ll soon break.

“y/n… me being a hero, it means i have to put others before myself. i’m constantly putting my life on the line every time i go out on the streets, keeping an eye out for dangerous people. so if me saving you puts my life on the line-” he stepped closer and your eyes looked him up and down, a crack in the mask. his free hand caressed your cheek, his thumb touching your dark circles. “i will always choose you over my life.” he whispered his confession.

you felt the twitch to your brows and the flare of your nostrils as you tilted your head to look into his soft eyes. “that’s suicidal of you. and fucking dumb!” you shoved his chest, making him stumble from the unexpected reaction.

you moved away from ethan, needing to keep a distance to keep yourself level-headed. your fingers scrunched the roots of your disheveled hair, eyes tightly shut as you scrunch your face up. a yell was waiting to rip from your throat.

“why- why would you say something like that, ethan? never-never, say you’ll choose mine over yours! do you… do you even understand how just the- the thought of you gone…” dampness came to your eyes and you felt the snot ready to run. shaky hands ran down your face, your breathing getting harder.

“hey…” the sound of ethan’s voice caused a slight jump. you stuck a hand out, needing to keep the space.

“i… i know you weren’t given a choice when given your powers. and you decide to do good for new york and- and help people, big or small… that's incredibly brave of you. and i’ve always stuck by your side and helped you in difficult times. but with these- these- these fucking villains started to show up more each day and getting more dangerous…” tears rained down your face and you saw how ethan had to restrain himself. “i worry about you every time i hear a siren or someone shouting for help. i always have the news playing and notifications on social media to keep constant updates when you're swinging around. and- and when i hear word that you’ve taken a tumble or some shit… i- i- i start to panic and hyperventilate and then my body starts to shake and my throat tightens…” as you were explaining to ethan the reactions started to show.

you were shaking your hands out then switching to tapping the pads of your fingers together in quick succession. your chest was moving up and down in short, shallow breaths and every time you breathed out your mouth it was a shudder. when trying to swallow your throat felt completely closed and the tears were forming.

“ethan… i can’t lose you, ever.” a weak whisper. “you- you don’t un-understand what it- it would be like to- to- to live-“

ethan’s nylon arms wrapped you nicely and tight like a weighted blanket. a hand pushed your head into the crook of his neck while he leaned his chin against your temple. while your arms took a second to process his touch, they moved inch by inch until you reciprocated the tight hold.

with your eyes slipped shut you took deep breaths in through the nose to inhale ethan’s scent, sweat mixed with something clean almost floral. you counted each time his chest moved with yours and let the tingles of his fingers run over your body. he kept his voice low and it was deep as he whispered reassurance into the air and your ear when he moved his head near your shoulder.

when he pressed a kiss to the skin just below your hair, you felt your shoulders slouch just a bit. it was like each touch and breath ethan took, allowed your brain to come down from its panic and focus on the present.

ethan is alive and you're in his arms.

“you won’t lose me y/n. i promise. you’re the reason i fight to stay alive and come back to your warmth every day and every night. you keep me stable and make sure i don’t run around with my head cut off.” you gave a dry chuckle at his words.

ethan leaned back and stared down at you, hands moving from their previous spots to hold your cheeks. your arms loosened their tight grasp around his waist, palms flat against his spine. ethan’s clear brown eyes peered deep into your soul, it made you nervous.

“fighting leprechauns and human octopuses are things i’ll constantly deal with if it keeps the city safe, but most importantly…” his head moved closer, your eyes watching every closing inch. “i’ll keep fighting the bad guys if it means you’re safe. i want you to understand that. you are my number one priority.”

and he pressed his chapped lips softly against yours. you froze before melting into the warmth he caused in your bones. the tips of your fingers skated over the smooth fabric of his suit until you were clutching his biceps. the kiss made you a bit lightheaded, almost tipsy but you were sober and clear-headed.

ethan pulled away and you almost groaned in disappointment. you kept your eyes closed just a bit longer in case the moment was just a daydream and when you opened them you would still be in your room, with ethan still dressed in his outfit, but the kiss wouldn’t have existed. with a flutter to your lashes and parted lips, the scene was exactly as imagined, but ethan was close and his hands were still holding your face.

“that wasn’t a dream?” you sighed in relief. ethan grinned at your words as he shook his head, his curls swishing. “not a dream. a wish come true for me.”

“such a romantic.” you joked to hopefully hide the heat on your face. “a wish came true for me as well.”

his grin widened. he swiped his right thumb over your cheek, “i promise you, i’ll always come back. no matter what, nothing is keeping me from you.” he finished his sentence with a kiss on your forehead.

you wanted to fight him on the honey-sweet sentiment. you saw how hurt he’s been recently, more cuts and bruises to his pale skin that- yes they heal quickly, but he’s still human. you hear how spider-man is struggling to stay on his feet or how he’s throwing punches that don’t land from the news as you pace in your room. you see how he groans and squeezes his eyes shut whenever you help clean him up when he climbs through your window looking ready to clasp. some days you worry he’ll be killed and you won’t hear about it until the news makes the official announcement, the news anchor saying in their somber tone “we regret to inform the citizens of brooklyn that the vigilante hero, spider-man, has been killed by…” and everything would turn to white noise as you fall to your knees and scream your lungs out.

but you also know how hard ethan fights. even if it’s his last breath he will give his all to stop the dangers from harming civilians. and how sweet he is to the people on the streets. how he will pick a cat from a tree it scurried up and was too afraid to leave. if a child was crying he would crouch to their level and ask their name, and try to make them smile or laugh.

as you stood in his embrace you let your heart skip a beat or two as you remembered that you finally got to kiss ethan. you tried to push the scary “what ifs” away and focused on his lean stature and how he kept placing quick but heartfelt kisses to the crown of your head.

“okay,” you replied after a while, “just come back to me and i’ll forever help bandage you back together,” you spoke into his chest.

another kiss to your hair, “i promise. i can't lose my girl when i just got her.” and you hear his heart speed up.

...

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