#something they would have never done with a spider-man or thor movie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maeve-writes · 3 years

Text

Heroes

Pairing: Stripper!Bucky Barnes x Reader x Stripper!Steve Rogers

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

Warnings: Adult situations, alcohol consumption, allusion to mild cheating(??). More to be added later.

Summary: It’s your friend’s birthday and you’re dragged to the Heroes club. You’re not one for that kind of place, but you quickly change your mind after you get to play the damsel in distress for a pair of Brooklyn babes.

a/n: Unbeta’d, any mistakes are my own and please forgive me. This is the second story I’ve written in a while. Forgive me?

You normally don’t go to these sorts of places but it was your friend’s 30th birthday and it was on her bucket list. Luckily, you weren’t talked into planning any of it, just had to toss in some cash for the fee to get in and the never ending flow of drinks, plus the very special Birthday Girl Dance package.

It took you three years after the second Magic Mike movie came out to watch the first one. The idea of male strippers seemed odd. But, when you really thought about it, so did female strippers.

Nevertheless, the night ultimately wasn’t about you, it was about your friend and her birthday. You were happy to be there with your friends, enjoying the celebration and drinks, seeing hot guys take off their clothes was a weird added bonus.

Heroes was the club to go if you wanted to see buff dudes bare it all. Tara, the birthday girl, had been raving about it for months. She found videos of it online and shared them in your group chat. That, of course, had your other friends looking for more videos and all of them started to have their favorites.

“Girl, some of them even give private shows,” Sonya, the oldest and who was supposed to be the responsible one of your group, mock-whispered excitedly.

You tried not to roll your eyes as your gang was escorted to the front table near the stage. It was a semicircular booth where small round tables came up from the floor, big enough for drinks, but small and spaced out enough to allow for bodies to move around and in between.

Your host was a slender built guy on the younger side, barely old enough to be allowed in. He had a baby face and a boyish smile, but his muscles were well defined as the club forced him to be shirtless save for the small bow tie around his neck with a spider in the middle, and the tiny pair of shorts that cupped his rear which stayed there by what you guessed was his will or magic. Maybe both.

“Here you are, ladies,” he guided, instructing Tara to take her seat near the middle. “The name’s Peter- uh Spider-Man. I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”

That set off a fit of giggles from your friends which caused a full body flush from your waiter. His embarrassment tugged at your heartstrings. “New at this, Mr. Spider,” you asked.

His flush darkened and he rubbed absently at the back at his neck after he passed out the menus. “It’s Spider-Man,” he corrected you, “but is it that obvious?” You tilted your head and scrunched up your nose, parting your pointer and thumb a small ways apart. He laughed in return, his shoulders relaxing a little. You gave him a wink and a smile before the rest of your friends attacked the poor kid with their drink and food orders.

You felt sorry for the guy, but he seemed to have loosened up a bit since your small, playful banter and your friends ate up his boyish charm.

While you waited for your turn to order, you looked around the club to find its sleek design, not something you thought a strip club would offer. The walls were painted black, accented by silver framed posters of the dancers. Above each were white neon lights that spelt out their Hero name.

The rest of the booths were like your own, made of soft black cushions, black metal bases which were illuminated underneath by white light. The tables that sprang from the ground were polished silver necks with textured tempered glass tops to keep drink slipping and spilling to a minimum.

Of course, all of the booths surrounded the stage, which was mostly closed off by a thick black curtain, save for the large catwalk that split half of the sitting area in two. It was wide enough to fit three large men comfortably across it, shoulder to shoulder, and from some of the videos your group shared, they had done so before.

When Peter- there was no way you were going to refer to him by his Hero name- got to your order last, you could hear other rowdy groups start to file in. A couple of bachelorette parties, a girl’s 21st birthday, and a Happy Divorce Finalization Day were all joining you. Your friends quickly became friends with everyone in the room, so even if the show sucked, at least all of you could get drunk and have fun.

“Excuse me, ladies,” a voice rang out above you. Cheers burst from the crowd and every light in the room popped out and stayed out until the room fell silent. “Now that I have your attention…” A tall, dark man walked out from the split of the curtains. He wore a wireless microphone over his ear, an eyepatch over his eye which rested just above a self assured smile. Dressed in a fitted pair of leather pants and combat boots, he strode to the center crossroads of the stage and catwalk, “My name is Director Fury. I will be introducing you to your Heroes tonight.” He paused for another round of catcalls. “And hopefully we can save you from the Villains, too.” That drew out louder screams from the crowd.

“Now, what do we do to the bad girls like you,” he paused, looking pointedly to the crowd, “we contain,” he pulled a piece of rope from the back of his pants and tossed it into a group nearby, “detain,” he pulled out cuffs and twirled them around a finger before he threw those out as well, “and entertain.” With that, the bass dropped and the curtain flew open, behind Director Fury were the Heroes (and Villains) in all of their sweat slicked glory.

Once the Director stepped aside, the seven dancers on stage began their opening routine. Dressed in black vests and tear-away leather pants, the men paraded around the stage and catwalk to the thump of the music, pulling off pieces of their clothing as they went. The women around you went wild, snatching at whatever was tossed their way, fighting playfully for it. While it seemed incredibly silly, Tara was having the time of her life and you absently sipped at your Tequila Sunrise while you scrolled on your phone.

The dance number finished not two minutes later with a screaming cheer and standing ovation from the rest of the already slightly tipsy crowd. Director Fury came out while the dancers disappeared into the back to get ready, he worked the crowd, mentioning the brides-to-be and promised them a very special wedding gift before the night was over. “But I heard there were a couple of birthdays here,” Fury said, looking between your group and the one behind you. “Now, I’m going to get the young gun back there in a moment, but… a little bird told me that you,” he pointed to your friend, “are a very big fan of our first Hero of the night.”

Tara squealed and stood up, “Fuck yes, I am. God bless Captain America! ...and dat ass!”

It was obvious that Director Fury was trying to keep his composure, but the corners of his lips twitched like he wanted to join in on the laughter from the crowd. “Well, he is certainly blessed,” he replied, “and ladies, you will be, too, when you see him at full salute.” He winked and started to walk off stage, “Captain? Duty calls…”

Some sort of abomination of the Star Spangled Banner started to play, remixed with drum and bass. You looked up to see what kind of horror show would come from something treasonous as what bled from the speakers around you, you were met with over six feet of muscle covered in a fitted blue suit, fingerless leather gloves on his hands, and a round metal shield on his back painted red, white, and blue.

The Captain’s background was what looked like a large war ship with painted ski-masked bad guys spread throughout the levels. His stage allowed him ramps and poles to move up and down, which he used freely. He used a mixture of acrobatics and dance to move across the stage, tossing the shield around, “fighting off the bad guys” and losing his clothes in the process. By the end of the song he was left in just the leather gloves and a very tight pair of shorts, much like the ones Peter wore, except the Captains had the same pattern of his shield printed across the backside.

Tara’s screams knocked you out of your daze and you realized you hadn’t stared down at your phone at all during the Captain’s dance. You watched all five minutes of it and couldn’t tear your eyes away. Heroes wasn’t about getting drunk women horny, they wanted to put on a show, too. You clapped lightly, though it was drowned out by the cheering around you, but unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t unnoticed.

Fury was out once again and he brought up the first bachelorette of the night. He put her in a chair on the catwalk and gave her a candy-garterbelt. Then he asked her waiter, a guy named “Ant Man”, to remove it with only his tongue, which he happily obliged.

Peter cut off your view with another drink, one you didn’t order. “On the house,” he said with a lopsided grin and placed the red, white, and blue layered drink next to your nearly empty Sunrise. Before you could ask him who ordered it, the candy garterbelt was being tugged between the bachelorette and her waiter. It ended in a tongue-y kiss and the ladies went wild.

“Let’s hope her future husband doesn’t mind,” you muttered and turned your attention to your phone once again. Director Fury, thankfully, broke up the awkward scene on stage and began to introduce the next dancers. It was a pair, brothers, apparently, and they worked on the good versus bad troupe. Thor and Loki were opposites in every sense of the word. Thor was a large blond with a commanding presence. He had a bright smile and sun kissed skin that looked great in his red and gold trimmed briefs. But his brother was slender, graceful - almost cat-like, with dark hair and a mischievous grin all wrapped in flawless alabaster skin. They didn’t look like brothers, but they moved around each other like they had been together all of their lives, and knew each other’s moves.

You only caught half of their story, as you were already halfway done with, what you found out was called the American Glory drink, and half wondered if that was what Captain America tasted like. Fury was up again and had the young lady celebrating her 21st birthday take two shots and lick the salt from Thor and Loki’s still sweaty chests.

Peter found his way in front of you again and said that someone needed to talk to you about your card being declined. You frowned and excused yourself from your friends to find out what was going on. There shouldn’t have been a problem, you got paid the day before, there was plenty of money in your account.

You were taken to a hall that connected what seemed like offices, the dressing room, and the route to the backstage. “Sorry,” Peter said sheepishly, “they said this was the only way to get you back here. Gotta go.” He waved and jogged back out to the lobby.

Confused, you were about to shout out after him when you felt a tap on your shoulder. When you turned, you faced that wall of American muscle beaming down at you. “Hey there,” he greeted, a smile almost blinding you from its perfection. “Don’t be too mad at the kid, I asked him to get you back here.”

“What,” was all you could get out. He was thankfully dressed, but his muscles were straining against the white tshirt and the gym shorts did not hide the package he carried. Even with all of that, what mesmerized you most was his eyes, sparkling blue and bright with amusement.

“This next bit requires audience participation and he had someone in mind,” the Captain replied like he explained everything.

“We had someone in mind,” a voice corrected behind the door you two stood near. You tore your eyes away from the blond and eyed the wood barrier suspiciously.

“Don’t worry,” Captain America laughed, capturing your attention once again, “it’s nothing too dangerous or embarrassing. You just have to sit there, pretend to be tied up, and me and Buck will dance around you.” He put his hands on his hips and tilted his head in thought, “Well, actually, you really will be tied up, but we promise we’ll let you go once we’re done.”

“Or not, if you don’t want us to,” came the voice again, which made the Captain laugh.

You blinked up at him and frowned, “What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch,” he shook his head. “We might dance on you a little, if you don’t mind, the crowd likes it. But if not, we can work around that.” The thought of Captain America in those tiny shorts grinding on you was a very nice thought.

“‘Sfine,” you shrugged.

He beamed and reached out to squeeze you on the shoulder, his touch lingering and his thumb running along your collarbone. “I’ll let the stage team know.” Reluctantly, he dropped his hand and knocked on the door next to you both, “Five minutes.” When he heard a ‘yeah, got it’, the Captain motioned you to follow him.

The stage crew took over and the Captain disappeared to get ready. You were told about the chair you’d be sitting in, the rope that would be tied around your chest and if you would be okay with it. There was some hesitation on your part, but ultimately you agreed. They brought you on stage, a winter wonderland of sorts and placed you on a log-like chair. The rope wasn’t tight, but it was obvious you were the damsel in distress.

“One of you was taken,” Director Fury said from the other side of the curtain in front of you, “by The Winter Soldat. Will she survive? Will she be saved?” All of the lights turn off once again and an industrial heavy beat thrummed through the speakers, rattling your bones. Red stage lights shone down on you when the curtain pulled open and your friends lost their minds.

To your right you saw a figure stalk out of the dark, red light bouncing off a silver metal arm. A mask covered the lower half of his face, but his eyes were trained on you like you were prey. His black muscle shirt clung tightly to his chest, one sleeve missing to show off his arm, and his black tactical pants stretched against his thick thighs. You could feel the shaking of the stage from the stomps of his booted feet.

Eyes wide, you stared at him until he stopped short of your chair on cue with the music. His nostrils flared lightly before he moved again, the music flowing with him. He slung one leg over the side over your chair, straddling you. The metal arm clamped the wooden back rest of the chair and he narrowed his gaze. Lights flash around you, strobing from red to white and back again until they settle on the house lights.

Soldat began to roll his body with the tempo, blue eyes locked with yours. You could hear the screams behind him as he dancing, but neither of you were paying attention.

His hips circled until he’s seated on your lap, you’re practically nose to nose. He brought his flesh hand to the side of your face and you could feel it trembling against your skin. With him that close you could hear him mutter in some other language that isn’t English, you’re guessing Russian, but you’re not sure. Either way, you felt crushed by his weight and you liked it. You didn't want him to go.

But the music changed and the lights started to flash again, red, white, and now blue mixed in. Captain America joined the two of you on stage and Soldat slipped from your lap. Just as Thor and Loki had before, these two moved around each other like they were made from the same mold.

During the fight, pieces of clothing were tossed aside and at one point you were freed from your bonds. Soldat pulled you up from your chair and up against his chest, your backside pressed so tightly against him you could almost feel his heartbeat. He moved you with him as he continued to fight the Captain.

Until seconds before the song ended and the music swelled, the Captain landed one good blow to Soldat and sandwiched you between them. The Winter Soldier recalibrated and recognized his old friend and you. He pulled the Captain into a big bear hug and then picked you up bridal style, taking you off stage with cheers from the crowd.

Once you’re all off stage, he sat you down with a hearty laugh. “You did a fantastic job, sweetheart,” the Soldier praised, running his metal hand through his chin length brown hair. “Couldn’t have asked for a better dance partner.” Flushed from embarrassment and arousal, you continued to stare at him until you were joined by the Captain. “I told you she’d be great, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, Buck, you know how to pick ‘em,” the blond agreed with a smile.

“Thanks,” you replied breathlessly, finally coming out of your stupor. “That was… fun. I’m just going to go back to my seat now, I guess.”

“Wait,” the one named “Buck” jumped to stop you, “we were wondering if you wanted a private show?” You heard about those from Tara. You knew that they were exclusive and very expensive… and sometimes had happy endings. They seemed to sense your hesitation because they both added in unison as they eyed you up like you were a four course meal, “For free.”

“I never turn down free anything,” you shrugged. The pair turned to look at each other and their smiles turned to wicked grins. You aren’t sure what you got yourself into, but you’re pretty sure you were going to enjoy it.

a/n: Part Two coming soon... with smut!

#bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #bucky barnes x you x steve rogers #bucky barnes x y/n x steve rogers #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #steve rogers x you x bucky barnes #steve rogers x y/n x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #stucky x you #stucky x y/n #stripper!bucky barnes #stripper!steve rogers #stripper!au #heroes au

266 notes · View notes

heyheyloki · 3 years

Text

The Thought Of You

Summary: Not remembering the night before, the reader distances himself from Loki.

Loki x M!Reader

It was always one thing. Perhaps it was Tony and Steve arguing, or maybe Thor bothering Loki, and maybe it was you making fun of the spider boy. Whatever it was, it was exciting for others to watch. However, between all the fighting, Loki and you never did. It was odd to everyone else since they had this deep hatred for the God of Mischief. To you, you didn’t care, you enjoyed Loki’s presence and always knew if you needed a break from the others, you’d go to him. He was always there, even if the two of you started out on a bumpy road since he was hesitant of you when you first came around.

Loki thought you’d be like everyone else, so it wasn’t totally personal. Though, after your many attempts to get to know him, his wall eventually fell around you and then, the bonding started. Everyone around the two of you thought it was weird, after all, Loki was the man who wanted to take over Earth and sent an army onto New York City. Even with that fact, it never seemed to bother you.

Tony Stark always thought something would happen between the two of you, and Thor was more than supportive is it came to be. Steve had some issues since he was close to you as well and just wanted the best for you, and, well, he just didn’t think that ‘best’ was Loki. Nat and Clint seemed indifferent, but were happy with anything you decided. Banner, on the other hand, flipped from Tony and Steve’s perspective at times.

You always told them that Loki and you were just friends, but Loki never seemed to comment on it. In the back of your mind, you knew the god had looks but you cherished the relationship between you and him now. You didn’t need to progress it further since you were quite comfortable where it was. Though, perhaps that was about to change.

After a late night of drinking and dancing courtesy of Tony Stark, you were out for the count. By the time your hung over eyes had opened, you noticed it was almost noon. A groggy groan escaped your chest as you sat up from your rather large bed, again, courtesy of Tony Stark. Your body didn’t even take up half of it, and speaking of your body, when you gazed down at it you noticed your fluffy, grey night robe.

You didn’t exactly remember putting it on, but you didn’t care much. At least, you didn’t care then. When your ears started to work once more, you couldn’t help but notice the sound of your shower running. It was connected to your room and when you gazed towards the door that was shut, the light underneath was shining through.

“What did I drink last night?” You mumbled to yourself as you collapsed back into the bed, your body bouncing a bit.

As your mind tried to figure out what had happened the night before, you heard the shower faucet squeeze close and the water stop it’s pattering. You didn’t bother to look, not that you weren’t curious who you probably slept with last night, but you just didn’t care. It wasn’t common for you to have one-night stands but it wasn’t something you didn’t participate in from time to time.

You could hear the person turn the doorknob before it creaked open, their bare feet stepping across your hardwood tile getting louder as they stepped closer.

“Are you up yet, [Name]?” The stranger asked. Though, that voice wasn’t a stranger to your mind.

Your eyes fluttered open to get a look at a man half naked in your room, the towel around his waist poorly done as if he’d never done it before. The long, black hair he had was wet and textured with like curls. His body had little muscle but his thin figure made up for it, the muscle he did have off subtle lines about his body that was beyond a godly sight.

“Uh, Loki?” You mumbled out, his eyes looking at you as if waiting for you to continue moving your lips.

Though, when you didn’t, he answered with a confused, “Uh, that is my name.”

“Right, right.” You uttered, his words snapping you out of your mind. Without even a second thought, you hopped out of your bed. You quickly tied up your night robe since you didn’t seem to be wearing anything underneath except for a pair of boxers. “I’m, uh, gonna go talk to Tony.”

“Stark?” Loki questioned. “Why?”

“Oh, yanno, Avenger stuff.” You chuckled out as you slowly began to inch for the exit.

“I can occupy you, if you wish.”

“No!” You screamed. Your voice startling both you and him. You cleared your throat to quickly say, “I think he wants to do a few tests on me. You know how those are, very private. I’ll see you later, ya? Okay, bye!”

Your hand reached around for the door handle and slipped yourself into the hallway before slamming the door shut behind you. Your back soon going against it as you took in deep breaths. It could have been anyone else, anyone in the damn place and you would have been fine. But, Loki? Why did it have to be him that your drunken self choose?

“I’m so gonna get shit for this,” You uttered as you began to travel down the hallway towards the main area of the building.

“Morning, [Name].” Nat said as she and Clint sat on the couch watching movies.

You nodded in her direction before shuffling into the kitchen. You needed something cold, or hot. No in between for this one. As you were pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you heard footsteps make way towards you.

“What’s up with you?” You heard. Your eyes gazing over at Nat who stared at you with crossed arms.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she started out saying. Her body slowly making way towards yours. “Normally, every morning, you say good morning back. You never give a simple nod. So, what’s wrong with you?”

Your eyes blinked rapidly for a moment before letting out a sigh. You knew there was no way for you to get out of this one, but than again you didn’t want her to spill anything to Steve, Banner, or Clint. So, you gave a half lie.

“Just not to happy with who I found in my bed this morning.” You laughed off. “Nothing to worry about.”

Nat stared, her eyes moving up and down before giving a simple, “Okay. Just make sure whoever the mystery man is is out before Tony comes back.”

“He’s not here?”

“Nope. He went out for a bit, but he’ll be back soon.” Nat explained.

You nodded before grabbing your coffee and heading out. You weren’t sure where to go. You wanted to go back in your room, but you didn’t know if Loki was still there. You wanted to go sit in the living room, but you didn’t want questions from the others. So, you choose the next best thing. Wonder about the halls. It wasn’t as bad as you thought, in fact, it was quite therapeutic when gazing out at the birds that flew about. You seriously thought you’d get a break, well, that was until you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You turned around, the soft smile on your lips dropping, your body grew hot at the God of Mischief that stared back.

“Are you alright?” Loki questioned. “You seem.. off.”

“Wha, um, what?” You asked, your throat going dry as your mind thought about what could have transpired the night before. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Loki tilted his head as he eyed you up and down. You noticed every single, tiny detail about him to the point were you noticed the small flicker of his eyes, the tiny redness of the tips of ears. Not to mention the explosive feeling when his hand came to rest on your lower back way too casually.

You quickly grabbed his wrist, your grip tight but not tight enough for Loki to notice a difference. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” He questioned. For he first time since you’ve met him, he sounded completely innocent. “Would you like me to take you back your quarters? You look rather flushed, are you sick?”

“N-No, I’m not sick.” You stuttered out as you pushed his hand off of your body. The lingering effects causing your mind to turn foggy, it was the first time in a while that you felt such an effect from a simple touch of another. “I’ll go to my room by myself.”

“I don’t mind the trouble, really, allow me to occupy you.” Loki stated. His body ready to move right along side yours.

“No, seriously.” You stated as your hand came straight flush against his chest. The moment it hit, your words ceased to exist. It felt odd, to fell his heartbeat. You never thought in your lifetime would you be able to feel it, much less this clearly. Though, something was off with it cause you swore for a single second that you felt it skip a beat.

“I, um,” you hummed out as you placed your hand back at your side. “I’ll go by myself.”

When you turned away from the God of Mischief, it was like your entire body became cold. The feeling of him slowly slipping away from your presence was almost the worst feeling you’ve ever experienced before. It was like moving away towards the perfect, most handsome looking sun you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

When your back fell into the bed, it was like everything you were feeling hit you at once. All the things you kept towards the back of your mind came to the front, center stage. All these questions entered your mind.

What did you say to Loki while drunk?

You know he isn’t effected by Midgardian liquor, so, he was completely sober. If so, did he take advantage of your drunk state?

Sure, he was Loki and tried to take over Earth at one point. But you wouldn’t call him evil, at worse you’d give him the ‘bad boy’ label.

Did you really sleep with him?

“Shit,” you grumbled to yourself as you began to bite down on your bottom lip. You knew you had some kind of feelings for Loki, and yes you shut them down as quick as they came for obvious reasons, but you didn’t want everything to come undone just from some liquor. If anything, you at least wanted to tell him at the right time when you were sober.

Turning on your side, you pressing your knees into your chest. It really was nagging, this unknown feeling. You knew the only way you were going to get answers was from Loki himself. However, the thought of that was too much. It was like you were ripping off a bandage that you had just placed on. You were frightened that when it came undone, the painful ripping would completely tear away at what relationship was already there.

“Sir,” Jarvis called out. This wasn’t uncommon since Tony had made sure to install Jarvis in every aspect of this place. “Dinner is ready. Everyone is waiting on you.”

“Okay, thank you.” You hummed out as you gathered yourself before heading out once more. Was it too much for you to be left alone today?

When you made your appearance at the large set table, everyone finally began to eat. Steve made it top priority that everyone must be present before eating, for some reason unknown to Tony and you.

You were seated next to Tony and Thor, Loki sat across from you with Natasha and Steve on either side of him. The food that was presented to you was a simple meal. Take-out. You knew everyone had kitchen duty at least once a week, so you began to believe it was Tony’s week thanks to this being the third time take out was for dinner. Though, you were impressed how he managed to make simple take out so impressively set out like it was from a five-star restaurant.

“How was everyone’s morning?” Steve asked politely. This was routine.

“Fine, just woke up with a massive hangover.” Tony said with a funny-looking smirk that made most of the people sitting around him laugh in amusement.

“Same.” Natasha said. “Remind me never to drink at your parties.”

“Eh, it was still fun. Even if I don’t remember most of it.” You commented. Your eyes going off on their own for a moment before connecting with Loki. Except, his eyes were already on you. With no expression on his face and this certain look in his eyes while staring, it made you zip your mouth quickly. Your eyes darting back down towards your food.

Loki raised a brow quizzically before his attention was brought back to Natasha when she asked you, “Did you manage to get the mystery man out of your bed?”

“What?” You flinched, your hand even lost hold of the fork. The noise it created as it rang the glass plate caught more attention than Natasha’s comment.

“You okay, [Name]?” Steve asked with a curious look.

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” You questioned back. If they didn’t know you, they’d drop it. However, they did know you.

“Is it someone we know?” Tony asked with a sly smirk. The look he gave made something turn uncomfortably in your stomach. “Or, maybe the same guy from last time?”

“No,” You lied. “He was a stranger.”

“That is quite exciting.” Thor chuckled as he tried to learn more about the human customs of ‘one night stands’. Something he, for some reason, doesn’t know.

“It really isn’t, but thanks.” You reassured.

“I would disagree.” Tony commented. “I think they’re rather.. thrilling.”

You rolled your eyes as you began to eat once more. Your eyes desperate for another peak at the man across from you. In the back of your mind, you told yourself no. It wasn’t worth it. Just ignore him. Though, your body denied itself to listen to your brain and gave into the desire. In that moment, everything froze. For some unknown reason, it was like everyone else in the room disappeared. The only ones left where Loki and yourself. That look in his eyes, the way his hand held up his head. Everything told you this was a dangerous game you were playing.

“[Name]?” Thor asked, his voice pulling you out of the void and back to reality. “Are you going to eat that?”

“What?” You mumbled before gazing down at the food that you haven’t eaten yet. You shook your head before pushing the plate towards the God of Thunder.

“You sure? You didn’t eat much.” Steve asked, his eyes growing to big puppy eyes filled with concern.

“Yeah, I’m not that hungry anyway.” You waved off. Your body soon standing up from your chair as you dismissed yourself from the others.

You didn’t bother to wait around for good nights or goodbyes from the others. Your feet aimlessly moved around until you rounded the corner. The quick footsteps that grew closer to you the furthest thing from your mind. So, when you felt your body get pressed into the wall, you couldn’t help but let out a loud gasp. Your mouth quickly getting covered by a rough, large hand.

Your eyes quickly began to analyze everything in front of you. Your mind processing the face and body that belonged to Loki, the hand that pressed against your mouth his. He eyed you down for what felt like a decade, that was until he broke it to gaze down the hall for any incoming Avengers. When he didn’t see anyone, he slowly released his hand from your face but still kept you pinned to the wall.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his question rough and demanding of answers.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Dont play dumb with me.” He hissed out. “You’ve been avoiding me all day, what is wrong with you?”

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Loki huffed, his patience wearing thin. “Then why did you run away this morning? Or when I saw you earlier, and how do you explain not even capable of holding eye contact with me at supper?”

“That was nothing.” You mumbled out, your head turning to the left and down so you didn’t have to look at him. Though, you suppose that was pointless.

His hand was quick to grab onto your chin to make you face him once more. “Don’t look away from me.”

You could feel your body temperature rise, the feeling brutal to the point were you had to bend your leg a bit and tap your fingers just to calm yourself a bit. Everything in your mind ran so quickly that you began to believe you would have a malfunction up there. Though, instead of a malfunction you ended up just blurting out, “Did we sleep together?”

You watched as nothing but pure confusion twisted in Loki’s face. You weren’t positive yet if that was good or bad, but something deep within your stomach told you not to make any false moves. Not to assume anything until you hear his words.

“Would that really be so bad?” He asked, his voice low.

“I don’t mean it like that.” You corrected. “I’m just asking cause I don’t remember anything from last night and when I wake up you were in my shower.”

Loki sighed, his body taking a step back to allow yours to breathe. “No, we didn’t.”

You wanted to desperately to let out a sign of relief. However, you were smart enough to read the look on his face and know this wasn’t the right time for that.

“Then, why were you there?” You asked.

Loki sighed, his eyes making contact with yours before beginning to explain. “I took you back to your room since you were probably more drunk than Stark. I didn’t mean to upset you if I have, I just thought it would be best to keep an eye on you until you fell asleep. I suppose at some point I did as well.”

“So, you took care of me.” You stated as you took an unconscious step closer.

“I suppose so, yes.” He said. “Was that wrong of me to do?”

“No, no.” You ushered out quickly. “That was fine. I’m glad you it was you.”

“You are?” He asked, his eyes staring into yours.

You nodded. Another step closer taken. Both pair of eyes danced with the other as each of you stared at the other. It was this moment of silence that you appreciated the most, cherished the most. It was an intoxicating feeling to sit in silence with Loki, to allow no sound of voice to flow between the both of you. The way your heart beat so intensity, the thoughts that crawled out that always made a shiver go up your spine, well, it was nothing but pure ecstasy.

“Come to my room.” You blurted out, the afterthought not even in question. You meant what you said, and Loki could see that as well by his silence nod and questionless lips.

As the two of your traveled, Loki following behind you in silence, your heart began to pound faster. The wonder of what would come to pass filling in your veins and by the time you came upon your room, you didn’t waste time to lock your door just in case.

“I want you to know something.” You said as you sat down next to Loki on the edge of your bed.

“What is it?” He questioned, his eyes never leaving yours for a second. After all, that would be too long for him.

“I wasn’t in regret or anything, I just wanted to know the truth.” You stated clearly. “If I ever did that with you, I rather remember the time clearly.”

You noticed the adam’s apple in Loki’s throat bob quickly after your words. The way his eyes now going frantic about your body without shame made your hand grip onto your pants. It was a new feeling, but one you enjoyed. Having him look at you felt nothing like anyone else in the past had done, when it was him and only him, you felt like he was looking at the stars.

“Allow me to be frank?” He asked, his question answered with a simple nod.

When Loki leaned in, he stabilized himself by moving one of his hands on top of yours, his fingers snaking in between the spaces in your hand. You felt him grip a bit harder, in a relaxing way before speaking his mind.

“I find myself thinking of you even at the most.. inopportune moments of the day. I feel as if a link exists between your heart and mine and should that link be broken either by distance or by time, my heart would cease to be and I would die.” Loki freely spoke. His voice soft, and low as he spoke so that only you would hear this side of him even if no other soul was nearby to hear. “And you.. you’d soon forget about me.”

You leaned your head, a plethora of emotions washing over you at once. Though, you needed to address this one thing as if life and death hanged in the balance. Your body scooted closer to the God, your hand that connected with his now placed on your lap before saying, “Loki. I’d never forget about you.”

The God let out a dry chuckle. “I acknowledge that. I just suppose that’s my fear speaking.”

“If we’re being so open, I’d like to say something as well.” You said, his eyes looking at you with such patience that you’ve never found before. “You make me feel.. you make me feel vulnerable. Every time your eyes meet mine I can feel you looking at my very soul, and I don’t like it. Do you know?”

“Do I know.. what?”

You smiled softly, your hand squeezing Loki’s as you ask, “Do you know what it’s like around you? It’s like.. It’s like I can’t breathe when you’re around and everything stops. When everything stops, I can only focus on you.”

You’ve never really seen Loki smile, but he had granted you the privilege of seeing a few times. However, you instantly knew this kind of smile, the soft and sweet kind he directed towards you was your favorite yet. Sure, the causally smirk or smile was nice, but this one was for you and you alone.

And you loved it.

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki odinson #loki fluff #loki x reader #loki odison x reader #loki layfeyson x reader #loki layfeyson x male reader #loki x male reader #loki odinson x male reader #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x male reader #male reader #x male reader

301 notes · View notes

saraastyles · 3 years

Text

"Uhm hi"

Summary | You and Peter have a crush on each other. When he comes over on a late night your relationship might progress into something more than friendship.

Pairing | Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Warnings | swearing, maybe a little bit of smut

WC | 2.4K

It was no secret that you had a fat ass crush on a certain spidey boy. It wasn't like you tried to hide it or anything, you just hadn't made that big of a deal out of it.

Peter being the oblivious bean that he is, obviously didn't notice your attempts at flirting with him. He just thought that your actions towards him, were purely that of friendship. He noticed you were always worried about him, but then again, you were worried about all your friends.

However, what you didn't know was that Peter also had a not so little crush on you.

Everyone could see it. From the way he hugs you like it's the last time he'll be able to touch you, to the way his gaze would linger on you just a tad longer than a 'normal' friend's would've.

In conclusion you are two very oblivious idiots who are very madly in love with each other.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Maybe I should do something productive for once.", you thought to yourself. It wasn't a bad idea, seeing as you had quite a bit of homework that you needed to catch up on. "I'll just finish this one episode of friends and then I'll get started.", you say that every single day and never, and I repeat never, have you actually done that. "No, fuck it, I need to get up right this second and do it!" you said to yourself as you sat up, determined to get some shit done. First you walked over to the fridge. "You can't do work on an empty stomach." You made some food and walked to your room. You've always liked the big windows and of course the amazing view your room held. New York really is beautiful. You sat down at your desk and got out your laptop to get started. You decided to start with physics, it's easy so why not get it done first? After finishing physics, you decided to catch up on your Spanish homework and after that just wrap up that essay for English, that you were actually quite proud of.

"Y/N DINNER'S READY!"

"OKAY, I'M COMING!"

You hurried back to the kitchen, excited to see what you had for dinner. You were really hoping on that amazing pasta Steve sometimes makes, with the expensive cheese that smells so horrible, but tastes so damn great. Your mouth watered just thinking about it.

As you walked into the kitchen you were met with a different sight though. Not one that you would've expected, but entertaining nonetheless. On the floor you saw taco shells, sliding down the cabinets were beans, you think, it kind of looks like shi-. You know what? Let's not get into that.

"I TOLD YOU THE SHELLS WERE HOT, BARNES. WHY DON'T YOU EVER LISTEN TO WHAT I SAY?"

"BECAUSE I DON'T LIKE YOU, THAT'S WHY, STARK. ALWAYS ORDERING ME TO DO STUFF. I'M NOT YOUR MAID, YOU ASSHAT."

"CALM DOWN MORTALS, I'VE GOT THIS."

"NO, THOR DON'T!", you said as he was about to cast a whole ass lightning bolt to somehow fix the broken taco shells. You didn't really see the logic behind that one, but then again, it's Thor, so there's never really much logic.

After stopping Thor, which took quite a few "THOR YOU CAN'T FIX BROKEN TACO SHELLS WITH LICHTNING". You all decided to just order some pizza and eat it on the couch.

You were watching the nature channel, for some godforsaken reason you did not know, but it was all okay. You chuckled at the way Steve, Bucky, and Thor were staring at the screen, mesmerised by all the animals they saw. After you all finished your pizza, you decided to go back to your room to finish the last of your homework.

It was around eleven, when you decided to stop working and just chill in your room for the rest of the night, scrolling on TikTok. Around twelve you had fallen asleep, your phone still in hand. After a while you woke up because you heard some rustling in your room.

"Hello??" "Who is there?"

"It's me, Peter." "Parker"

"Jesus Peter, you scared the life out of me. You could've texted me, or knocked, like a normal person, you know.", you say, in a hushed tone. You take a look at him, sweet lord he looked good. Wearing the spidey suit, his hair a bit ruffled because of the mask. He looked like the most cuddly thing ever

"I did text you y/n. You just didn't answer, so I decided to just come over anyways.", Peter spat back at you, quickly moving over to the bathroom to change into some comfier clothes.

"And why exactly are you here? If I may ask?", you ask as he walked out of the bathroom in some plaid pyjama pants and a t-shirt with some dorky science pun on it. He looked so comfy and relaxed and kind of hot but that's besides the point.

"I couldn't sleep, so I decided to just patrol for a few hours, but then I thought about you and decided to come over to watch a movie or something. I thought you would still be awake."

"Well, you were wrong.", you say, a blush creeping up on your cheeks at the thought of Peter rather spending time with you than patrolling.

"But it's okay because you're cute.", you say, smiling at him.

Whenever Peter gets a compliment, he gets all blushy, and you swear it's the cutest thing you've ever seen.

"Well, you're cute too.", he says, coming up to your bed and laying down next to you.

You take out your laptop to set up the movie.

"What movie do you want to watch?"

"Can we watch Harry Potter? Please?", Peter says, giving you puppy eyes. You can't help but cave, I mean, look at him. Doesn't he look like the sweetest person ever right now?

"Okay, but next time we're watching something else. We've watched Harry Potter eight times already!"

"Okay y/n, sure.", Peter says, knowing full well that you're going to watch Harry Potter the next time.

After a while you get sleepy and lay your head on Peter's shoulder. He lays his head on top of yours.

When Peter sees you're asleep he closes the laptop and slowly slips out of bed. The loss of warmth makes you wake up. Peter is always so nice and warm. He's like your personal heater.

"Where are you going? Aren't you going to stay here? You can't go back home now! It's way too late to be out on the street!", you ramble on, worry evident in your voice.

"Relax y/n, I was just putting your laptop away, so we wouldn't crush it."

"Oh, okay."

"So, you are staying over then?"

"Yes. If you don't mind of course. I mean, I can go home, it's no big deal, it'll take me like ten minutes. I should just go home, you know what I'm going home.", Peter rambles.

"Peter. You're staying over. It'll be fun! Besides, I don't want you to go out into the city at this hour."

"Y/n. I'm Spider-Man. I think I can handle myself."

"Yeah okay, maybe that's true, but I would also just like it if you stayed over. We can do some fun stuff. OH! WE SHOULD DO FACE MASKS! PETER, LAY DOWN I'M GOING TO GET THEM!", you practically yelled at him.

Peter laughed at the way you went from sleepy to wide awake in a matter of seconds.

Storming out of the bathroom with a dozen face masks in your hands, you pushed Peter down on the bed, forcing him to lay still. You sat down on top of him to apply the face mask.

He looked at you with admiration in his eyes, as he saw the way you were so concentrated on applying the face mask neatly. Biting your lip, something you always did when you were concentrated, you looked adorable, he thought.

After applying the face mask, the close proximity of your faces became evident, your noses only a few inches apart. You looked him in the eyes. Those beautiful honey brown eyes, that you've grown to love so much. His eyes meeting yours. It was like time stood still for a second. You were in your own little world. Just you and Peter, forever.

After what seemed like forever, he swiftly looked down at your lips. You took the hint and slowly leaned in. Your lips now almost touching. He looked at your lips again and that was all you needed. You slowly pushed your lips on his, completely forgetting he was still wearing that face mask. You didn't care. All you wanted in that moment was to just kiss him. Kiss Peter. Kiss your bestfriend.

KISS YOUR BESTFRIEND.

HOLY SHIT, YOU WERE KISSING YOUR BESTFRIEND, WHO YOU'VE HAD THE BIGGEST CRUSH ON FOR MONTHS! IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING!

After a while you moved away. Peter's face mask now also your face mask.

You looked down at him. God, he looked cute, grinning like an idiot.

"So..."

"I really like you.", you both said at the exact same time.

Slowly it sunk in, relief washing over the both of you, knowing that your feelings are mutual.

"Well, I'd love to keep this up, but we have to wash of the face mask, or your face is going to be stained blue for the next couple of days."

"Oh okay, yeah let's not do that."

You both got up and skidded to the bathroom, eager to get the face mask off of Peter, to continue your previous activity.

Once it was all off, you walked back to your bed. Sitting next to each other, you glance at Peter. There are still a few blue speckles on his cheeks. You wipe them off, Peter leaning into your touch. Your hand stayed on his face. Slowly the both of you lean in and before you know it, you're making out again.

You slowly move to sit down on Peter's lap and straddle him. Your hand stuck in his hair, softly tugging at the loose curls at the nape of his neck.

Peter's hands are planted firmly on your waist. Squeezing a bit and slowly rubbing up and down. After a while his hands move to your thighs, slowly massaging them a bit.

You decide to grind your hips lightly on his. This results in a low grunt from Peter. Immediately loving the sound, you decide to do it again.

Peter's hands slowly move from your thighs to your butt. He gives it a light squeeze, which makes you jump up in surprise.

You can feel him smiling against your lips. "That sneaky bastard did that on purpose!", you thought.

Well, two can play this game.

You decide to, slowly but surely, grind down on him harder. Peter grunts against your mouth, which makes your smile.

You want to take this further.

You're tugging at the hem of Peter's shirt, hoping he'll get the hint and take it off.

Peter pulls back and in one swift motion takes of his shirt.

"What the fuck! You never told me you were like, I don't know, totally ripped!", you say to him, admiring his abs.

A compliment.

Peter doesn't know how to react so he just kisses you again.

After a while you decide to take of your shirt too. You pull away from Peter, a seductive look in your eyes. Slowly you take of your shirt, not breaking eye contact with him. Seeing as you were just chilling alone in your room before he came over, you didn't bother to wear a bra. Why would you? No one would come over at this time, right.

As you were about to pull your shirt over your head, still looking into Peter's eyes, loving how eager he looked to see your chest,

The door opened. The fucking door fucking opened, what the fuck.

"Hey y/n, do you know what a- what. the. fuck", Bucky walked into your room, abruptly stopping when he sees you hurrying to put your shirt back on, straddling a half naked Peter, with his hands on your butt.

"Uhm hi", you both say, looking at Bucky, who had the most shit eating grin on his face.

You and Peter looked at each other, both completely panicking.

"Hi. Having fun?", Bucky breaks the silence, obviously knowing what was about to take place.

"Yeah, no, uhm, I was just showing Peter where I would - if I ever decide to - get a tattoo. That was what we were doing.", you say, mentally slapping for yourself for that horrible excuse.

Peter tried to say something, but he was completely frozen. Internally completely shutting down.

"Yeah, no, I absolutely believe that. That's completely believable.", Bucky says, with small smile on his face.

"Please Bucky, please don't tell dad. He'll kill me if he finds out. Please.", you say, practically begging him to not tell your dad.

You know how he gets whenever a boy is mentioned. His, as you like to call it, 'protect my baby girl' protocol activates and he gets way too overprotective.

"Okay, I won't tell him. But! You have to promise me you'll do my dishes for a week.", he says.

"I promise, I promise. Thanks Buck."

"Yeah yeah, okay. I'm going now, byee!", Bucky says, turning around and walking out the door. "Use protection!"

"Bucky. Shut. Up."

"Okay, I'll go now."

When Bucky's gone, you finally look at Peter. He still looks shocked, but after a while he says: "Oh my god. We kissed. Wow"

"Yeah, we did.", you say.

"Do you maybe want to go on a date or something? I mean if you want of course. I just thought that ma-"

Before he can say anything more, you cut him off by kissing him. He freezes, but after a while he kisses you back.

You slowly pull away.

"I'd love to go on a date with you, Peter.", you say smiling at him. He smiles back at you before slowly leaning in and kissing you again.

"Okay, it's really late and we should probably go to bed.", you say, as you're pulling Peter down to lay next to you.

You lay your head on his chest and cuddle into him. He cuddles you back and after a while you fall asleep. A permanent smile plastered on both of your faces.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bonus!

The next morning you and Peter walked into the kitchen, immediately getting stares from everyone.

"So, did you and Peter have fun last night?", Sam asks.

You see the look on his face and you just know he knows.

"Where. Is. Bucky?", you say, sounding calm, but exploding inside.

"Oh, he's dead.", Nat says, with a dumb smile on her face.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hope you all like it! This is the first thing I've ever really written, so I apologise if it's not that good, but I'm sure I'll get better over time!

I hope you enjoy this! Let me know what you think!

xx Sara

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter x reader #peter x y/n #peter parker angst #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #tony stark #steve rogers #sam wilson #avengers #fanfiction #fluff #peter parker fluff

179 notes · View notes

blazingparker · 3 years

Text

What’s Up, Danger? (Chapter 3)

Here it is! the final chapter of What’s Up, Danger? As I’ve said before, I was totally blown away by the response to this fic. Thank you to all of you who commented, left kudos, reblogged, and everything else!!

read it on ao3!

---

“JARVIS, what time is it?” Tony called out as he fiddled with repairing one of the gauntlets on one of his older suits. It had gotten damaged during the battle of Sokovia, and he’d just built a new one rather than ever repairing it. Now, with his refusal to go after Spider-Man and the lack of other missions, he’d had plenty of time to catch up on lab projects and even fix up his old suit.

“It is currently 2:37 in the morning on Friday, January 25th, sir. Might I suggest you retire and get some rest?” Tony frowned, setting down his tools. Peter still hadn’t called him, and he never stayed out patrolling this late when he had a class the next day.

Peter. The last few weeks with Peter had been some of the best of Tony’s life, hands down. While they still hadn’t defined their relationship, they were more than friends and there were definitely too many feelings involved for them to just be fuck buddies.

For once, Tony didn’t dread the early hours of the morning when JARVIS would hound him to head to bed. He’d talk on the phone with Peter, listen to how his day went and maybe tell him about his latest project before they would hang up with whispered words of affection and head to bed. On particularly good nights, he’d meet Peter in his apartment with takeout (Tony wasn’t going to fool himself into thinking he could cook, come on) and they’d cuddle up on the couch with a movie. Sometimes, he’d need to stitch Peter up or help him out of his suit to tend to his injuries, which he was always more than happy to do. Things were perfect. They were perfect.

In fact, the only reason why Tony hadn’t asked Peter to be his boyfriend yet was because he knew the young man had enough on his plate without adding the media frenzy that came with dating a billionaire. Not to mention the Avengers would find out, and that would make it even harder for Peter to keep his identity a secret.

Tony wasn’t really known for being a patient man, but for Peter? For Peter, he’d wait.

Well, not tonight. Tonight, he was done waiting. It was close to three in the morning and Peter still hadn’t called, which was highly unusual.

“JARVIS, pull up the local news.” Tony turned and leaned back against the lab table and brought his mug of coffee to his lips. Maybe Peter had gotten held up with a bigger issue, like another burning building or a larger threat that required more time to take care of. If that was the case, the local news would definitely be covering it.

What they were actually covering made him drop his coffee mug, the ceramic dish shattering when it made impact with the floor.

A blonde newscaster was speaking, but Tony tuned her out in favor of reading the tagline and watching the footage.

Spider-Man Abducted by the Avengers. There was a shaky video, likely recorded by an unassuming passerby, of Peter standing on a roof with his chest heaving. Then, out of nowhere and seemingly for no reason, he tensed. A second later, a dart could be seen sticking out of his neck. Tony’s chest filled with dread as he watched Peter pluck it out and stare at it, swaying in place. When Peter collapsed, Tony actually made a move as if he could catch the young man, and felt fury bubble up when he saw what happened next.

Steve fucking Rogers caught Peter, quickly restraining him with a pair of vibranium cuffs before slinging him over his shoulder and carrying him off.

“--people of Queens are furious. There are talks of a march on Avengers tower. They have protected us from larger threats, yes. But Spider-Man was the one looking out for the people of Queens and New York at large every day. Where were the Avengers when Lacy Collins was almost assaulted last week, when Spider-Man rescued her? Where were the Avengers--”

Tony wasn’t listening anymore. The newscaster was right, of course, Peter was better than all of them. Peter deserved nothing but the Avengers’ respect and instead he’d gotten a dart to the neck and vibranium cuffs. He stormed out of the lab, grabbing his cell phone.

“JARVIS, dial Patriotic Fucker,” he all but growled as he got into the elevator. “And take me to the suit lab on level forty. The one with the landing platform.” There was no way they’d bring Peter back to the tower, which meant Tony needed a suit. Now.

“Tony, we caught him!” Steve cried out after picking up on the first ring.

“How fucking dare you,” Tony said lowly. “The mission was to learn his identity, Rogers. Not drug him and arrest him!” By the end, he was yelling into the phone. “Where the fuck did you take him?”

“Tony-I thought this was the best course of action. He was avoiding us even more.”

“Because Clint took a fucking shot at him! If an Avenger tried to take you out, would you really be peachy-keen and excited to chat?!” Tony screamed. “You star-spangled shit, you’ve compromised everything! As if he’s ever going to work with us now, after this little stunt! Not to mention they’re talking about protests against us on the news!” Taking a deep breath, he exited the elevator and made a beeline for the nanotech suit he’d just finished up. Grabbing the little housing unit, he placed it against his chest and double-tapped it, allowing the suit to encase his body.

“Clint and I are with him at the compound. We’re upstate.” Steve’s reply came after a beat of silence, and he actually sounded remorseful. Fucking finally, Tony had a location. He blasted out of the lab and away from the tower, JARVIS automatically plugging in directions for the fastest route to the compound.

“Did Natasha know about this? What about Banner, or Thor?” Tony barked out, determined to get as much information as possible before he got there. He wanted to be able to put his full focus on Peter, not these idiots.

“No. Clint and I made the call. They’re not to blame for this, Tony.”

“Oh, and that makes things better? You kidnapped my-” Tony hesitated. Peter wasn’t technically his anything. “My Spider-Man,” he finished lamely.

“Yeah, we’re gonna have a chat about that, Tony. About the Stark Tech he’s wearing, and how your number is saved in his phone under the name ‘Snarky Bitch’. You’ve known. You knew this kid and didn’t tell the team.” Tony found his blood running cold for the second time that night.

You knew this kid.

“Steve Rogers, did you take off his mask?” He yelled, and the silence on the other end was enough of an answer. Feeling fury take over, Tony let go of any semblance of restraint he still had. That was the final straw. Peter had taken his secret identity incredibly seriously, and he deserved to reveal it to whomever he chose. Not have that choice taken from him.

“Yes, I know him. I know his name, and I’ve been helping him out,” Tony seethed. “Unlike you, you frozen fuck, I got him to trust me. He trusted me, and I helped him in return. He deserved that much. He’s sweet and kind and everything the world seems to think you are. But they were wrong. The great Captain America that the world knows would never drug and kidnap a college kid just because they didn’t do what he wanted.”

“Tony.” The voice on the other end cracked, and Tony smirked. Steve knew he was right.

“I expect you to be gone by the time I get there, which will be in about twenty minutes. You’d better stay away from him until I say otherwise, or I swear on my mother’s grave that your face will be meeting my gauntlet. Capische?”

“Understood. And-for what it’s worth, Tony, I’m sorry. I really thought this was the right call.” Tony huffed out a sigh.

“For future reference, if the plan involves drugs and kidnapping, it’s not the right call.” With that, he hung up on Steve and focused on getting to the compound as fast as he could. After a painstakingly long flight he arrived, storming through the doors and down to the detention level where he knew Peter would be. Tony exited the suit and put it on sentry mode, striding purposefully down the hall of cells, looking, searching--

Tony came to a dead stop in front of the last cell on the right and felt his heart fall right out of his body. It was Peter: restrained to a chair, in his suit but without his mask. His head lolled to the side and if Tony couldn’t see the rise and fall of his chest, he might have thought the young man was dead. Each of his legs was tied down to the chair and his hands were behind his back, likely in the vibranium cuffs still.

“JARVIS, unlock,” Tony whispered weakly, and rushed in as soon as the glass door slid open. Gently brushing Peter’s curls out of his face, he dropped to his knees in front of the man. “I’m so sorry, Peter. So, so sorry,” he whispered before making his way around to the cuffs so he could get Peter’s hands free.

---

Peter woke slowly, blinking against harsh light and instinctively letting out a groan of pain when his headache made itself known. Instinctively, he tried to rub his temple and couldn’t keep from whining softly when his hands were held down.

“Sit still, Pete. Please. I’m trying, okay? I promise, I’m trying.” Tony’s voice? That didn’t make any sense, Peter had been on patrol.

Patrol.

It all came flooding back to him - the dart, his dizziness, and the vague feeling of being restrained and carried off. After that, nothing. Now, he was awake and clearly restrained and Tony was there.

Tony had sold him out? Peter didn’t want to believe it, but it was the only thing that made sense. Tony was doing something with his cuffs and he was tied down tightly, unable to move. Tony knew his routines and when he liked to head home, and could have told the Avengers when it would be best to strike. When he’d be the most exhausted.

You idiot, he thought to himself. Peter dropped his head to his chest and tried desperately to fight back tears, not wanting Tony to know he was awake. As Spider-Man, he’d been shot, stabbed, punched and kicked. But this? This hurt the worst of anything he’d ever experienced.

All of a sudden, there was a loud bang and the pressure on his hands was gone. Peter pitched forward with a squeak of surprise, not expecting to be freed. Strong hands caught him and gently eased him back into the chair.

“Peter? You back with me?” Tony was in front of him now, face etched with concern as he brushed Peter’s hair out of his eyes and moved his hands down to his wrists. The older man gently massaged them, trying to ease any soreness as Peter slowly looked up at him.

“Why’d you do it?” He asked, shocked at how raspy his voice sounded. Tony just stared at him, confused.

“Because Steve and Clint are idiots, and this never should have happened. Bambi, I’m so sorry I didn’t check in sooner, I thought you were patrolling.” Tony started to ramble, and Peter’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“You didn’t...do this?” He asked, and winced at the horror that instantly took over Tony’s face.

“I’d never. I’d never, ever do something like this to you. You’re my Danger, my sweet-hearted vigilante who puts everyone ahead of himself and who I adore. I’m so sorry. If I’d known-” Tony was cut off by the swift press of Peter’s lips against his. Peter didn’t know why he’d doubted Tony for a second. Of course he would never sell him out - why would he help him and why would they be...whatever they were...if Tony’s whole endgame was to unmask him? He would have bailed after Peter pulled the mask off that one night all those weeks ago if that had been the case.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, hiccuping as he tried to keep the tears at bay. “I just-I woke up and felt you doing something with my hands and I thought-I thought-”

“You thought I was putting you in the cuffs instead of taking you out of them,” Tony murmured in understanding. Peter just nodded as the other man focused on releasing his legs.

“I’m sorry-” he tried to repeat but was stopped by a finger against his lips. As soon as the finger was removed, it was replaced with a set of soft lips.

“No apologies, Bambi,” Tony whispered, and Peter just nodded again. He still felt exhausted and sluggish, likely because of the drugs making their way through his system. Luckily, Tony seemed to read his mind. “How about we head up to my private rooms, get something to eat, and watch a movie? Hm? Just like we always do.”

“That sounds nice,” Peter murmured back, pecking Tony’s lips one more time. He then grasped the man’s hand, slowly standing up and yelping in shock when his knees immediately gave out and he went crashing towards the floor.

That never happened, though. He was caught in a pair of strong arms and lifted up in a princess carry as Tony prevented the cold concrete from greeting his face. Peter’s arms instinctively wrapped around Tony’s neck.

“I’m sure I can walk if I could just try again,” Peter tried to protest, and Tony leaned their foreheads together.

“Let me do it. You’ve probably still got some stuff in your system, and I’ve been worried sick ever since I saw the news. Just let me take care of you. Let me take care of my-” Tony cut himself off, hesitating.

“Boyfriend,” Peter blurted out before staring at Tony with wide eyes. You don’t know that he wants that, Parker. His friends literally just drugged and kidnapped you, he’s probably just feeling protective--

“Boyfriend,” Tony repeated. A huge, real smile was plastered on his face as he held Peter even closer. “Let me take care of my boyfriend.” Blushing, Peter responded by simply pressing his face into Tony’s neck as though it would allow him to hide. After a split second, he pressed a soft kiss to the skin there. Tony nuzzled his face into Peter’s hair for a moment before turning and walking out of the cell.

“You know, I never got to hear about your night. Before all this, I mean,” Tony remarked as he carried Peter towards the elevator.

“I guess not,” Peter mused, pulling back just enough to look up at his boyfriend. Boyfriend, he could say that now.

“So...what’s up, Danger?”

“Oh my god.”

#blazingparker writes #starker #starker fic #starker community #peter parker x tony stark

50 notes · View notes

marvel-m-lee · 3 years

Text

Pranks, Horns, and Tony

Warning: Tickle Fic, birds, spiders, pranking,

Ppl: Loki, Tony, You

Words: 2254

Summary: You and Loki are known fir your pranks, and your both left alone in the compound together whole the avengers are on a mission.

--------

It was another day in the compound, you had been living with the avengers for almost a year now and seemed to get along with the very mischievous God Loki.

You were both quite young- well sorta. If he were a human he'd be a couple years older than you but that's fine, you both got along splendidly.

You would read books together, play pranks together, be on each others sides and he'd always be there for you even if he wouldn't show the other avengers. Though they all knew you both had a special bond, Thor especially knew because whenever he'd take you to asgard or Loki to Earth you'd both have bright smiles and go somewhere to cause havoc.

Thor didn't really mind though, it just meant he'd get to bombard you both with tickles afterwards.

Yesterday Loki and Thor had come to visit again and would be staying for a couple of days. You and Loki caught up a little and read your books whilst keeping each other company. Today is when the true mischief would start, all the avengers would be going out and you and Loki would be left alone in the compound for a couple of hours so you both were planning pranks for the others.

"Alright y/n, we'll be back in a couple of hours. Don't burn down the house while we're gone okay?" Steve teased as he gave you a hug.

"Yes, and Brother, do not cause any havoc." Thor told Loki, only to be answered by a shrug and a smirk.

"Brother I'm the God of Mischief, what more must you expect?"

"Well then when we come back I'll be the God of Tickles, shall I, dear brother?" Thor asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Loki's face became a rosie red and crossed his arms whilst rolling his eyes.

You stood next to Loki and smiled at Thor with your hands behind your back, "we'll be good, have fun!" Thor nodded and all the Avengers left the compound for their mission.

Both you and Loki waited for there to be a silence that rang through the compound once everyone would have been gone. After a moment you both smirked and turned to one another.

You brought your hand to your face and showed Loki your intertwined fingers to show your face promise, Loki's smirk increased as he saw it.

"Ready to cause some mischief?" You asked him.

"It's in the name" he replied as you both began to run down the halls yo your first target.

You arrived at Bucky's room and looked around, "So, what's the plan here?" You asked the mischief maker himself. Loki walked around the somewhat messy room and found his way to the bed.

"A magnet, a large one. We'd place it under his bed and once he comes back and gets ready to sleep, in the morning he wouldn't be able to get out of bed!" Loki exclaimed, both of you began the process, both with large smirks on your faces.

Loki used his magic to lift up the mattress and keep it in the air whilst you both grabbed a large magnet from Tony's spare parts and placed it under the mattress bed. Loki then placed the mattress back on and the sheets were already messed to so he surely wouldn't notice?

Yeah, I don't know why Tony had a large ass magnet either, let's move on.

You and Loki both snickers at the idea of the prank and moved on to another victim.

For Sam you both collected a bunch of birds and locked them in his closet- with breathing holes obviously. One had pecked at Loki's hand causing him to curse which made you burst out laughing.

Steve's closet was now filled with a bunch of Rock concert shirts and IronMan shorts to pin the blame on Tony, Tony usually was in prank and tickle ears with Steve anyway so it wasn't that hard to believe he'd done it.

You both didn't dare do anything too crazy to Black Widow, so you both just stole a jacket each. She had incredible taste that woman. Loki stole a green jacket with some sort of fluffy collar and you stole a (f/c) leather jacket.

Clint's prank was the simplest, you both sprayed this fart spray into the vents and it STANK.

You both liked Bruce, well Loki wasn't as much of a fan but you all enjoyed reading so Bruce was safe from your havoc.

Wanda's room was all tidy, it smelt wonderful and honestly was your favourite room so you both decided to just put some spices in her bed to make her sneeze.

Vision's room was safe, only you'd both left a piece of gum next to his table with a note attached saying; 'Try this, Bruce and I were working on it. -Tony Stark'

Thor's room was one of the messier one, but he'd taken Stormbreaker out with him rather than Mjölnir, and by some sort of mirical you had all found out you could actually lift the weapon, so you took it and hid it away in a close vent that smelt of farts.

Turns out Clints prank was the most deadly as the whole place started to stink up making both you and Loki gag, and burst out with laughter.

Peter wasnt actually on the mission, nor was Scott but it was a Friday meaning they'd both be coming over for movie night. Plus Peter would be staying the weekend so why not torture him? Even if they were some of your best friends, they werent safe from the mischief makers.

You came up with the idea of hiding spiderman Peter's room, you were terrified of them though so you made Loki do so.

"Wait so Parker's afraid of Spiders?"

"Yeah, I don't really get it either-"

"Pffft, here you want a spidey y/n?" Loki chuckles whilst taunting, shoving a spider in your face as you screamed and jumped into the wall.

"LOKI PISS OFF!"

Loki howled with laughter and placed the last spider down. You both left and did the same with Scott's room but rather than spiders you placed all the ants you could find on his bed.

Last but not least Loki lead you to Tony's Lab where he would be working on all his suits and other personal projects. Its not the main lab but it wasnt too far off, just smaller and more personal so that he could work at night or alone.

You both entered while snickering to yourselves, it had been an hour and a half since they'd all left and you both should gave at LEAST 30 minutes. But hoped you'd have an hour. It wouldn't take long anyway.

"So what's the plan?" You asked Loki.

You both saw an IronMan head on his desk and smirked at one another, knowing that would be your target. Maybe jello inside the helmet? Maybe slime? Maybe hiding it? Repainting it?

"Here, I've got these horns that we can lazer on the front" Loki smirked while taking out two golden horns like his own on his head but separated to be put on a helmet.

You didn't really mind it was a mainly Loki thing, it just meant he'd get in trouble and not you for this. You werent per say throwing him under the bus, but you werent gonna bring it to his attention.

You both walked over to get ready to melt a horn on each, Loki grabbed some sort of tool and started the first one. You stood behind him and watched over his shoulder, you admired the small things,about how Loki's greesy hear was tired up into a man bun before he'd started working on it, and how he squinted one eye to concentrate with his tongue sticking out. It made you giggle.

"I'm almost done..." you watched as he'd almost finished it, both of you concentrating hard on the hand ship.

"Oh hey kiddo's"

You both jumped out of your skin, Loki fell off the chair and part of his hair came out, laying on the floor he turned to see who was talking, you on the other hand jumped and slowly turned around with a nervous smile.

The one and only Tony Stark stepped out of his suit, adjusting his watch as he stepped out.

"So, what are you both up to?" he asked, his lips scrunched inwards and his hands on his hips.

Both of you were silent until Loki began getting up and dusting himself off.

"Nothing, we were just about to leave" You noticed something about him, Loki that is. Something seemed different, and rightly so. You glanced behind you to see the real loki grab the helmet but sink down so he couldn't be seen.

"Oh good, I really cant have you both in here, off you go then."

Tony dismissed the two of you and you both left for ths door, and while he wasnt looking Loki diverged into his clone again but now holding the helmet.

Right before the two of you had reached the door, his suit came speeding past and covered the exit.

'Shit' was the only thing you could both think of. Neither of you turned around to see where or what the billionaire was doing, but you heard him.

"Wait a moment, wheres my helmet? Oh and Loki,I think you left something" Loki and you both turned around, Loki with his hands behind his back,obviously hiding something. Tony stood right in front of him,holding the other horn to his face with a wide smirk.

Quickly the suit begins you both snatched up the helmet and yourself as Tony pounced on the God of Mischief, his hands at his sides, wiggling his fingers all over.

Loki yelped and began lightly chuckling at the fingers that were tickling him, trying to step back but only into closed doors. He tried to use his hands to block the attack but Tony was having none of it.

"Sir I have the helmet and y/n, it seems they were moulding the horns onto it." Friday explained.

"Ohhh, so you were doing something? I thought you were the god of mischief? Not the God of lies?" Tony taunted, as he squeezed the puny gods sides, then quickly moved to a death spot, his hips. Squeezing tightly and vibrating his hands and fingertips causing Loku to fall down the wall with laughter.

"NoHoho!!!! Damn it StArarK!!!!" Loki yelled as he tried to force Tony's hands off him. Though he was incredibly weak from the torturous tickles.

It was a usual sight, Thor was usually tickling his younger brother for some reason or another, its what older brothers are fir though right? Loku would become a blushing screaming mess but he'd never learn. Same goes for you though, everyone in the compound knew your little weakness and would use it against toy for anything. Your laughter was just too cute!

As Tony abused Loki's sides and hips, he ordered Friday to put the helmet on the desk and tickle you. You squealed because as much as you enjoyed tickling, you couldn't never stand it when the robots tickled you. It was rare but in cases when Tony needed an extra set of hands, well he got em'.

The suit held you up and began using a vibrating simulation Tony had recently installed on the hands for some reason and placed them on your ribs whilst holding you in the air. And as this tickled you, because it did t seem like enough the suit also used it's big fingersto scrape and squeezed the insides of your armpits.

You kicked and squealed at the top of your lungs, trying to escape. Somehow being held in the air seemed much worse, and the vibrating cause you to laugh harder and harder when random electric bolts went through your skin.

After around 15 minutes Tony had both you and Loki in piles of laughter on the floor, weak and begging. Well you were begging, Loki was threatening.

"LEHEHET OFFFF! HAHAHHH IHIGIM GONNA KIHIHILL YOU!"

"Okie Doki horny. First let me do this and I'll let you go."

Tony lifted up Loki's lime green shirt and blew the largest raspberry right above his belly button. An inhuman screech came from Loki as he curled in on himself and howled with laughter from ghostly tickles and squeezes.

"As for you" Tony taunted as he walked over to you, you were not on the floor, twisting and turning to get away from this oncoming attack and the tickles. The suit held your hands above your head as Tony brought up your shirt to reveal your belly button.

"PLEHEASE DONT TOHONY!"

Tony looked up at you and smirked, "We all know you love it" and blew right on your belly button. Your laughter went silent and you melted into the floor as both let off.

Tony laughed at you both in giggly messes on the floor.

"I came back early, and the others will be back soon too. So I suggest you both go clean up your messes before you get something worse" Tony suggested as he walked over to his desk to suspect the iron helmet you'd worked on. You and Loki had now recovered- partly- from the attacks and took in what he said.

But it was too late, everyone heard birds chirping and Sam screaming.

"WHERE ARE THEY?!"

#mcu #sfw tickles #tickle community #pranks #pranking #try not to laugh #mcu loki #loki laufeyson #loki friggason #loki odinsdottir #thor odinson #mcu x reader #y/n #tony x reader #tony stark #tony stank

96 notes · View notes

karimac · 3 years

Text

...in the details, part 1

A/N: Warning for this series: 18+ audience (minors DNI), some cinematic level violence, some fluff and angst. Doubt that smut will be involved, but it may be implied. I’ll make sure that is noted clearly if it pops up.

Please do not repost or translate my work. Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

All mistakes are my own.

Word count: 1,198

“A sorcerer is a wizard without a hat.”

Sam Wilson said it. You heard it. Damn, you felt it. And it hurt. He knew it was more than that, and that joke was just not funny. And you’d tell him that. If you could.

The problem was that Sam was nowhere near where you were at the moment. By all rights, anything that even smacked of The Avengers was now marked on a page in the latest tome about your life with a very definitive “The End” written in swirling calligraphic script at the bottom of the page, followed closely by the same words written in Ogham. That was an alphabet not seen much these days beyond necklace pendants or old rock formations found in farmer’s fields on the road to one Irish town or another. That in and of itself still seemed weird.

If this had ended when you were working at The Daily Bugle, then it would have closed with a -30- before you logged off your screen. But this was not your ill-fated stint at The Bugle. Jameson was such a pompous twit, and he never took a moment to even try to understand why the world needed a friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man, let alone how a teen had been left to carry that mantle and had to now lift an even greater burden since his mentor was gone. That poor kid was going to need help, but you knew anything you had to offer would likely be more curse than boon.

But this nonsense with Sam? This was something you really couldn’t put your finger on yet.

Weeks ago, wait, it was months ago now, The Avengers saved the world one more time. You were there, right in the middle of the insanity before Tony Stark snapped his fingers and turned Thanos and his army into nothing more than dust.

As deaths for wannabe gods go, that one was justified, lame and incredibly sad all at the same time. And you should know. You’d seen almost every manner of death in the 1,500 years, give or take a day, which you had walked the Earth. It was not a warrior’s end.

The warrior’s end was saved for Stark. He reminded you so much of his father at that point. Supremely intelligent. Unflinching. Loyal.

When Howard Stark and Peggy Carter met you, you went by your birth name of Kari MacOrish. At least that was the Anglicized spelling of it. The true Irish spelling was a bit hard for others to wrap their heads around at times.

Your name is, was and always would be Kari MacOrish. You had gone by hundreds of others as time ebbed and flowed around you, but this was you. You had been, since your birth on a battlefield in what was now called County Kildare, Ireland, the earthly avatar of the Celtic battle goddess The Morrigan, and that was a lot less fun at times than it sounded.

But back to Sam.

You could now see the person he was talking to. Bucky Barnes. And Bucky was bringing up Gandalf? Why in the name of Heaven were they talking about fictional magic wielders? It was too bad Barnes had not started reading those Potter novels he had been gifted in Wakanda during his deprogramming and rehabilitation. Thank Thanos for that one. You were sure that Shuri had left them for him, and you were pleased he’d have one more thing to take his mind off the parts of his past that likely still dogged him.

But why in the world were you even thinking about that? You never were really an Avenger. Or more correctly, you had never let yourself fully embrace the title.

You would likely never have known if Barnes read those books or not anyway. He was a nerd. A kindred spirit. That was why that little detail mattered.

This, on the other hand, was just not making any sense.

Or maybe you just weren’t used to this new sense of not being a part of their lives just yet?

Getting up and leaving places much too soon had become a habit. You hated explaining to people about your secret, so you usually left Dodge before anyone caught on to the fact you were an immortal.

This should have been different. Thor knew you and called you a friend. You joked once that you and Thor would have been in the same year of high school if gods and avatars of goddesses shared such mundane things.

Hell, Loki even called you an ally at times. You had always hoped he would use the word “friend,” but that level of trust needed to be earned. And now the chance was lost.

Steve Rogers knew you, and so did Bucky, back from those days in the camp where they were sent out on those missions to hunt down The Red Skull and his Hydra minions. You had had to explain that you looked a bit different back then. Explaining glamours to those not versed in magic was a pain, but in this case, it had to be done. You also had to pour them drinks like you did in the old days and sing a few bars of “Taking a Chance on Love,” that Benny Goodman tune that Helen Forrest sang so well. Dum Dum Dugan loved that damned song. That sealed the deal.

Was it possible that the spell you had so painstakingly crafted to make them all not care about you once Steve had gone back to the past was actually working? That the only forms of magic they registered in their minds were brought about by books, movies and TV shows and, when they were part of the fight, Thor, Stephen Strange and Wong? No red haired wild woman with a sword? No bit of Irish sparkle in their days?

But that didn’t explain whatever this was. If the spell had worked, why were you able to be an eavesdropper on this conversation, wherever it was happening? It looked like an airport hangar, but there was no way you could be sure of it unless Sam turned around.

And why Sam? The brief time you were last with The Avengers—sitting in the middle of that fight at the compound as Thanos’ forces brought hell to Earth once more—you had been closer to Bucky during the fighting. It just worked out that way save for the few times you had to go skyward to keep some idiot from raining ordinance down on someone’s head. Wong’s wizard corps was very good at putting shields up as needed, but sometimes you had to get in an opponent’s face to take care of business.

Power stunts like that bugged some of The Avengers a lot. Then you reminded them that you were damned hard to kill, and that, if you did die, you had been around the track a lot more than any of them had been except for Thor.

But Asgard and a bloody battlefield in County Kildare were worlds apart from this place. The large sign told you that right off the bat.

Welcome to Westview!

25 notes · View notes

marvelsimp · 3 years

Text

The New Kid: Arrived

The New KId Masterlist

Ch. 4

Genre: Fluff, Angst Pairing: Peter x Lesbian!reader (Platonic duh), Avengers & Reader Warnings: swearing, nerdiness, mentions of homophobia and being kicked out, panic attack, Description: Y/n's birthday continues. Reader’s Powers: Healing, telepathy, and empath. Word Count: 2,217

“Cupcake, please.” says a small voice, Morgan.

This causes the room to erupt in everyone’s laughter including your own. The group then sings “Happy Birthday” to you and as you blow out the candles you wish that one day your parents will love you enough and that if that doesn’t that you will be okay.

“Morgan,” you say calmly, “You get to pick the first cupcake since you asked so nicely.”

She smiles and jumps up and down. She takes a second but finally picks one. You decide to take the one from the top and very happily take a bite.

“Hey, before everyone splits off,” Peter says, “Let’s get Y/n to open her presents!”

Presents? Seriously? Today was honestly enough. You open your mouth to protest but Peter stuffs your cupcake in your face and leads you to a chair that’s surrounded by gifts. He forces you to sit down just as you get the last bit of icing off of your nose. “You guys seriously didn’t have to get me gifts, today was enough.”

“Shut up,” Peter retorts.

You put your hands saying, ‘ok fine.’

“Open mine first!” yells Carol.

You blush, you honestly forgot you were still holding it. You open the bag and inside is a Captain Marvel plushie, you let out a chuckle and get it out of the bag to show everyone. There are a few laughs and aww’s around the room. You look up at Carol who’s grinning and give her a nod of approval which she seems to enjoy.

You next grab a small box it reads ‘The Starks’ and you open it, it’s a bracelet. Tony tells you about its functions and how to use it. Most importantly, you can get her to send messages although you can’t hear Friday through it.

The next gift is from Nat and Clint, it’s a few sets of training clothes. She informs you that in a week you’ll start basic combat training, you aren’t too excited but it's better than dying. That training will also help teach you about the present from the Starks.

Next is a gift from Scott, Hope, and Cassie it’s a beautiful Captain Marvel necklace. You look up at Peter, “So you told EVERONE.” There are a few nods around the room, and you can feel carol trying not to laugh. You blush a little harder.

Next is a gift from Sam, Steve, and Bucky as you open it you let out an evil laugh, there’s around Spider-Man pillow. You quickly pull it out of the bag and smack Peter in the face causing him to fall on the floor. There is an eruption of laughter. “Okay, I like her!” Sam yells. You look back in the bag and there is a set of matching Spiderman PJ’s. You get them out and toss a pair to Peter, who is still on the floor. There were a few ‘awws’ to that one.

“Well,” I’ve got to put this one to bed,” Pepper said standing up.

Morgan pouted.

Pepper picked her up, dismissing Morgan’s protests. “I might come back down once she’s asleep. Happy Birthday, Y/n!”

“Happy Birthday,” waved Morgan who was still very annoyed that she had to sleep.

“Sweet Dreams,” you tell Morgan waving back. As they get on the elevator you pick up a tiny bag that’s from Ned, when you open it you discover a Deathstar keychain. You tear up a little bit and explain to everyone how you met Peter. (In case you don’t remember, Y/n first messaged Peter after he posted a picture of the LEGO DethStar.)

Next, you open it from MJ, it has three books in it. MJ is quick to explain that she wanted to share her favorite but couldn’t pick just one. You thank her you know how important books are to her.

Next is a rectangular box from Thor ‘and Loki’ seems to be added later. In it is a simple yet beautiful dagger, it leaves you a little confused, but Nat offers to teach you how to use it and you accept.

You still three gifts and one card left. You decide to go on ahead and open up the card, it’s from Rhodey. You open it and it’s just a simple Birthday card signed Rhodey and $20 falls out when you open it. “Like I said I didn’t know until this morning and I had to come from the west coast.” His defense makes you smile, and you assure him that you’re pleased.

Next is a large gift bag from Wanda inside is a large amount of “spa day” items, bath bombs, face masks, candles, etc. You tell all the teens, including her, that there has to be a spa day. The girls accept pretty quickly while Ned and Peter are a little more hesitant but accept anyways. The next gift is from Bruce, it’s a decently large box.

You start to unwrap it and discover it to be a microscope, you let out an excited gasp. “I saw yours this morning, it looked ancient so I thought you might enjoy a newer model,” Bruce explains, “We do have some more powerful ones in the lab, but I thought that you might enjoy your own.” You’re like a kid on Christmas, excited to try out all of your new gifts.

“One more,” Peter smiles handing you a bag. It’s from him, obviously, you take out the tissue paper and there are two toy lightsabers one has “Peter” engraved on it and the other one has “Y/n.”

“Haha, you nerd!” you giggle out. You grab yours and toss Peter his. You stand up and turn on your saber. You pause for a second, looking for his approval. He nods in return.

“I have brought peace, freedom, justice, and security to my new empire.”

“Your new Empire?” Peter replies in the worst British accent you’ve ever heard.

You can’t contain your giggles, neither can Peter or Ned.

“Don’t make me kill you,” you say trying to contain your smile.

Tony has his hand on his head, you can hear him mutter, “Dear god, not another one,” under his breath.

“Anakin, my allegiance is to the republic, to Democracy!”

You start to carefully walk around Peter, “If you are not with me, then you are my enemy.”

“Only a Sith deals in absolutes. I will do what I must.”

“You will try.” That’s when the very epic battle began, as you fought you both making noises like “Vruummummm” or “Schvrmmmm.”

You could see Bucky’s concerned/confused face that Steve seemed to be amused at. You also saw Steve lean down and whisper something in Bucky’s ear which seemed to calm him. Finishing the battle, you jumped up in the air as Peter pretended to chop off your limbs.

He laughed and reached his hand out for you to get up. You accept and he pulls you up. The crowd is laughing and a few of them are clapping so you and Peter bow which causes them to clap a little louder and a few cheers.

“Imma guess that you’ve never seen Star Wars,” you say to Bucky as you go to reclaim your seat. He just shakes his head.

“Well, that’s a problem,” laughs Peter.

You nod, “That means a movie marathon sometime soon.”

Over the next two hours, the group just hangs out. You disperse back into smaller groups. Rhodey and Carol have to leave about 30 minutes after the battle. They both wish you a Happy Birthday and go back to the west coast or space.

You’re with the teen group, Wanda and you are the only two who are done with high school, Peter, Ned, and MJ still have a year and a half while Cassie has two and a half left. Wanda is nice, she could snap any of you in half if needed but you know that she wouldn’t. Cassie is pretty goofy like her dad; she and Wanda aren’t nearly as nerdy as the rest of the group, but they know enough to keep up.

“Ok so why do you like the sequels better?” Peter asks, he already knows the answer but wants you to say it.

You let out a nervous laugh. “Come on, Pete.”

He grins waiting for your answer.

“Fine,” you say lowering your head a little bit in shame. “I don’t like the others as much because of how they sound.”

“What?” Ned breathes out.

“I know! It's just… they sound so weird and fake. I hate it.”

Wanda giggles at your answer, which causes you to smile.

“Y/n, I don’t even know what to say,” giggles Ned. “Seriously, that’s the reason?”

MJ looks down at her phone, “Oh, shit I got a curfew.”

Ned’s eyes widen, “Me, too!”

You hug them both as they wish you Happy Birthday again.

“I kinda wanna put on my PJ’s,” says Cassie, she, Scott, and Hope are staying the night.

“Yeah,” you say looking at Peter, reminding him of your matching PJs’.

As you and Peter go down the hall to go to your rooms, Peter takes you into his room. “I have one more gift for you,” he says smiling a little. He grabs a box from his desk and opens it. It’s a lesbian pride flag, you smile and wrap your arms around him. You’ve never had one before.

Peter shoves you out the door after you separate from the hug. He tells you to put on your PJs. When you walk into your new room you set your new flag on your desk. You quickly head to your bathroom and change. When you step back into your room a surge of emotions rush through you. You’re so happy that you’re there but all that you want to do is tell your parents. On your bedside table is a picture of the three of you, it’s one of your favorites. You pick it up. It was taken on your first day of high school and you all look so happy. Why couldn’t they just be here? Why did they have to kick you out? Why? Why did they not love you? You see your tears drop onto the picture.

Your angry, you’re so angry that they’re not there. You just want to hug them and tell them about how great your day was and how fun it was. You want to just want to be able to collapse into them because of how exhausted you are, but you can’t. You can’t because they are not there. They’re not there because they kicked you out. And they kicked you out because they don’t love you enough to have a lesbian as a daughter. And do you want to know the worst part of it? You still love them.

You throw the picture against the wall, causing the glass to shatter. Why couldn’t they just love you are you are? You didn’t decide to be this, you just are. You can’t breathe. You can’t get any air in it's like the world is You let out a sob. What parents would decide not to abandon their child because of who they love?

Peter enters with some of your gifts. He sees the picture on the floor and picks it up, putting it on your desk. He drops the gifts he is holding and rushes to your side. Steve and Bucky are behind him with gifts in their arms as well. They were smiling at first but now they’re concerned. Peter sits down on the bed next to you, his eyes are asking you what’s wrong. Steve and Bucky quickly set down the rest of the gifts and leave.

“Y/n, what’s wrong?” he looks concerned, sad. “You gotta breathe.”

“They don’t love me,” you explain in between sobs.

Peter’s concern turns into anger, he can’t believe that someone’s parents would kick out their wonderful daughter just because she likes girls. “Fuck them,” he says pulling you into his chest as you sob. “You are incredible, Y/n. You deserve the world, but they are too stupid and too blind by their stupid ass beliefs to see that. You are one of the best, kindest, most intelligent people I know and if they don’t see that as worth it then fuck them.”

You let out a small chuckle. He tells you to follow his breathing and you do. After a few minutes, you’ve calmed down. “I still love them.”

Peter pauses for a second. “Of course, you do,” he sighs, “You’re allowed to love them, they’re your parents. But that doesn’t mean that they didn’t hurt you or that you can’t hate them. THEY are in the wrong, not you. You never forget that you did absolutely wrong and you are not wrong. You are perfectly you.” He pauses for a second, not because he doesn't know what to say and not because of what he is going to say, he's told you a million times before so it isn't new. But because of how important it is that you hear it. “And I love you, I’ll love you enough for both of them and more, Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Come on,” Peter says wiping his eyes. “Let’s go watch a Pixar movie and eat some ice cream.”

Next Chapter

Arrived - deleted scene

#Avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x platonic reader #peter parker x platonic!reader #peter parker #spiderman #reader #reader-insert #wanda x reader eventual #avengers x lesbian #lesbian #lesbian reader

89 notes · View notes

forasecondtherewedwon · 3 years

Photo

In the Arms of the Anus

Fandom: Spider-Man, Thor Pairing: Roger Harrington/Grandmaster Rating: T Word Count: 8883

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @spiderman-homecomeme!!!

Summary: While people all over the world are finding their soulmates, Roger Harrington can barely find time to grab a sandwich. Clumsy, anxious, and stagnating in a mediocre marriage, it's a miracle that he still believes in love.

Today's the day the universe rewards that belief.

Three things about Roger Harrington: he’d just tripped on the sidewalk, he worried daily that he was developing a bald spot, and, at the age of 36, he felt he still believed in love as strongly as did the little girl in his building who’d made all the residents Valentine’s Day cards the year before.

The cards—which Roger had found endearing while his wife had been baffled to the point of annoyance—had been wedged into everyone’s mailbox sometime on the afternoon of last May 19th, and maybe that was why he thought of them today, exactly a year later.

It was helpful, he found, to consider love in markers of time passing, or just numbers. The anniversary of those Valentine’s cards would always be 271 days early, leap year or not. Roger had been married twice, longer the second time. He had zero children, and that was alright with him because he wasn’t totally sure that he did want kids and, anyway, he was too profoundly stressed about the welfare of the teenagers he taught at Midtown to comfortably imagine himself as a fulltime parent.

His wife was cool. Significantly cooler than he was. She drove out of the city to hike every other weekend (he had never joined her and hoped to never be called upon for woodsy companionship), had once performed an emergency tracheotomy on a friend at a dinner party, and had a tattoo on her hip that predated their relationship, which made it consequently, eternally, enigmatic, no matter how many times she told the objectively trite story of its acquisition. Also, she was a casual shoplifter, which made him very, very nervous in a way that he found difficult to differentiate from how he felt when he was turned on.

He was the kind of person who consistently forgot to take his glasses off before stepping into the shower. She was the kind of person who would run into and recognize a famous race car driver at Whole Foods (that had happened) or fake her own death (that had not happened—knock on wood!). Essentially, what and who his second wife was was the natural successor to his first wife (the reckless young bride to his insomniac young groom), who had in turn been the natural successor to the only other romantic encounter of his life worth mentioning: a kiss on the cheek at a birthday party on the day the Berlin Wall fell. Roger had been seven.

So his romantic history was speckled and, in two out of three cases, spoke a little too loudly of a need for legally-recognized codependence. So he didn’t feel like a man anyone would ever get a tattoo in honour of. So his wife had been a little unkind in the long pause before her negative when he’d asked her if she thought he was getting a bald spot. Roger still felt that love was going to happen for him. Hopefully sustained in his current marriage, but if not, there was always what Julius Dell had taken to (highly unscientifically) calling the Love Wave.

If Roger decided to be really delusional, he could pretend that the Love Wave was to blame for his stumble over uneven concrete on his way to grab lunch. That he was finally feeling its cosmic tug. Not that he would be the last to sense it—the inexplicable force that had lately begun guiding people the world over to their new partners—but every day that he didn’t, he feared his wife would feel it first and go careening out of their life together in a Thelma and Louise-style launch that somehow left her intact and him feeling like he’d plummeted to his death at the bottom of a canyon. Sometimes, when he thought about it, he imagined feeling that impulse to go to this destined soulmate and pictured it leading him home. Not in some metaphorical way, but literally home, to the apartment he shared with his wife, to find her arriving at the same time, the two of them matched up, the universe endorsing their marriage.

The reality was that he was a man with clumsy feet (and knees and elbows) who’d forgotten to pack himself a lunch and had just enough self-awareness (though probably not dignity) not to believe that eating in the cafeteria with his students was something he would be able to socially recover from.

He thought about a poorly-cut-out pink heart glued to a fold of red craft paper. He went to buy a sandwich.

At the deli, Roger waited in line and didn’t so much allow his mind to wander—like a dog off-leash in a dog park—as feel his mind jerk insistently away—like a dog on-leash, trying to snap a dropped slice of pizza off the sidewalk. He was violently not present as his thoughts migrated from Valentine’s Day cards to lesson plans to the anxiety he always felt over the fact of never seeming to have enough power to go with the tremendous sense of responsibility he felt for all situations in which he was even remotely involved. He would have, should have, continued to shuffle vacantly forward in line, except that the man ahead of him grumbled something that drew his focus.

What he grumbled was: “Even the Sorcerer Supreme should be able to spare a minute to decide what kind of sandwich he wants.”

Now, Roger Harrington was a man of science, but he was also a man who had previously enjoyed a close friendship with the Hulk (and if anyone challenged him on specific parameters within that assertion, Roger knew that he would cry). Aliens swarmed the sky like clouds of bees. There were compilation videos of Spider-Man nearly getting hit by city buses that could’ve been designed expressly to see how hard Roger could flinch. For a clumsy man with the unathletic, knock-kneed gait of Pippi Longstocking, Roger did his best to roll with the supernatural punches. Hey, this was how science worked too: just because there wasn’t a precedent yet didn’t mean there never would be. Just because he couldn’t explain something didn’t mean no one could. Sorcerers? Alright. There could be sorcerers.

“Sorcerers?” Roger blurted to the man, overeager to expel the word.

All other words had fled to the back of his mind, twitching in an agitated cluster, leaving just the one to be snatched frantically from the surface. Like fishing. (Roger had never been fishing. One of his greatest fears was having a live fish somehow jump into his shoe and stepping on it by accident.)

“Uhhh,” the man droned. He looked uneasy. If Roger knew how to make his eyes a little less wide in situations like these, he would’ve done it.

“No, yeah, sorcerers, sure,” Roger swiftly backpedaled. “I’m a teacher.”

As if being a teacher equaled knowledge of sorcerers. As if that were a normal unit of the high school curriculum. Roger’s understanding of sorcerers began and ended with Mickey Mouse in a blue wizard’s hat. He wondered if that was sort of the standard look.

The man did not appear reassured. Roger thrust his hand forward.

“Roger Harrington, Midtown Tech.”

Face still wary, his deli companion shook hands.

“Wong.”

“So, this sorcerer of yours didn’t pick a sandwich?” The line shuffled forward and, now in reach of the long glass case of food, Roger attempted to lean his elbow casually against it, misjudged the distance, and jerked back upright again before he could fall over.

“No… You heard that part too?”

“If I could hear the part about the sorcerer, why wouldn’t I be able to hear the rest?”

“I think most people would’ve been so fixated on the sorcerer thing that they wouldn’t really absorb the part about the sandwich.”

“Just got sandwiches on the brain, I guess,” Roger said.

God, if Wong knew a sorcerer, odds were that he was a sorcerer too. (Roger based this on being a teacher with almost exclusively teacher friends and acquaintances.) He was making it sound like he cared more about sandwiches, he knew he was. He stared silently at Wong for a few painful seconds and wondered if the man could tell that he had worked for a sandwich shop as a teenager—the role of wearing a full-body sandwich costume and standing on the sidewalk, trying to attract people into the shop.

But Wong surprised him by nodding.

“You could get one of everything,” Roger heard himself suggest.

He was not typically one to make suggestions, but rather one to panic when other people did and he was in the position of having to choose between them. He could never decide on a restaurant for he and his wife’s now few-and-far-between date nights, or provide straightforward feedback when she asked for his opinion on her clothing choices… which movie they should see… what they should buy for her friend’s sister’s housewarming gift...

Oh god, she was probably going to fake her own death and his biggest anxiety was knowing that someone would ask him to choose the casket!

“I have like…” Wong jingled his pockets and extracted a fistful of coins that, when he opened his hand, Roger saw belonged to several different currencies. “…six bucks.”

Like a mirror with a delay, Roger patted his own pockets to locate his wallet. He flipped it open to reveal something promising and terrifying: he’d forgotten to return the school credit card after the last field trip he’d chaperoned. He shouldn’t, but… sorcerer.

“I think this’ll cover it,” Roger said. “It’s for emergency expenses.”

“Like lunch?” Wong asked doubtfully.

“I could be very hungry.”

“They sell seventeen different types of sandwiches here.”

“I could be very, very hungry.”

Wong shrugged in evident acquiescence and Roger marvelled that it was so simple for him to accept this act of generosity. Roger couldn’t recall the last time someone had been as generous towards him. Wait, yes he could. The Valentine’s Day card. Well, handing over a credit card that wasn’t technically his didn’t exactly equate to presenting his ticket at the Love Wave gates (not that there were such things—not that he’d know), but he was hoping to trade this generosity up for a different magical experience in the near future.

When they reached the front of the line for service, Roger ordered a total of eighteen sandwiches. (And received an undisguised groan of complaint from the people still in line behind himself and Wong.) While they waited, Roger buzzed like the posterchild for over-caffeination, doing his best not to let his excitement translate into erratic movements.

Of course, once the sandwiches were presented and paid for, it only made sense for Roger to help Wong carry them all. His own ham-and-Swiss was stuffed into one of the three bags and they were all bulging, threatening to spill. If one of them ripped on Wong’s journey back to wherever he had to take them, who would be there to gather the sandwiches into their arms so that Wong wouldn’t have to leave them on the ground? Roger was clearly the best (only) person for the job.

And if they talked on the way? That would be natural. If Wong stared at him with abrupt, unyielding suspicion the instant Roger attempted to negotiate a visit with this ‘Sorcerer Supreme’ in exchange for buying his lunch? Yeah. Yeah that suspicion would be fair.

“Not for my sake!” Roger defended as Wong blinked back at him. “For the kids!”

“The Sorcerer Supreme isn’t a birthday party magician.”

“No, I would never imply that! These are bright kids. They’d be there to learn, respectfully. They’ve had their own traumatic encounter with Spider-Man already so there wouldn’t be any clambering to meet another person with superhuman powers!”

“What did Spider-Man do to traumatize them?”

Wong looked interested now, in an entertained sort of way. Meanwhile, Roger was having a flashback of his life flashing before his eyes inside the Washington Monument.

“Actually, he saved us,” Roger explained. “That’s not the point. It would be purely educational. You and the Sorcerer Supreme would call the shots. As long as it wasn’t anything dangerous.”

“Dangerous? We would never put children at risk!”

Roger was about to clarify that he hadn’t meant to imply that they would when he realized Wong seemed to be taking this as a reason to prove himself, or to make the other sorcerer prove what he’d just said.

“I would hope not,” Roger said carefully, “because not all of the children I’ve taken on field trips have come back alive and that haunts me.”

“Well, what haunts me is everything I’ve seen and learned from in order to become someone who could now guarantee a safe field trip environment.”

“Well, that would be great.”

“Well, good,” Wong concluded.

Roger looked down at the bag he was holding as he dug out his sandwich. His wrist twisted and he caught the time on his watch. Oh wow, oh no, his lunch break was almost over.

“Ok, deal,” he said quickly. “We’ll come by next Tuesday!”

“I’ll be out here to let you in!” Wong agreed with a parting wave.

Roger took off running in the direction of Midtown and when that got too awful, he wheezed like an asthmatic and waited at the closest bus stop.

—

Roger had expected Principal Morita to say there was no room in their budget for this trip. That they were nearing the end of the school year, that parents and guardians would be reluctant to sign another form for an excursion that Roger could only give a vague, stammering explanation of. At the very least, he’d anticipated the journey via school bus in lurching, stop-and-start traffic to take so long that the kids would revolt; Flash Thompson would lead the complaints that they could’ve walked to their destination faster than the ride took and Roger would feel the primal horror of a confrontation with a self-possessed teenager who wielded the kind of peer influence Roger could only have dreamed of when he’d been Flash’s age.

But no.

Highly improbably (Roger didn’t like to consider it miraculous), things went smoothly. The trip cleared the budget assessment on zero notice because, besides renting the single bus to transport the students, their outing didn’t actually have any costs. Permission slips came back signed. Traffic was light. And dear, dear Flash—who usually gave Roger so much anxiety—slapped the hand Roger raised to shield his eyes from the sun as his students disembarked from the bus, rewarding him with a surprise high-five for getting them out of the classroom on a Tuesday afternoon. It almost knocked Roger’s glasses off.

They were ushered inside by Wong, who was now laying the mystical solemnity on pretty thick. He certainly wasn’t talking about sandwiches or complaining about the Supreme Sorcerer under his breath.

Before Roger could feel too good about himself though, he realized he’d had time to run through his headcount of the students three times without interruption. Normally, something would happen partway through his first count and he’d be uneasy for the rest of the day, sure that one of the kids had fallen down a manhole or been stampeded by a dog-walker’s unruly canine swarm. The universe shoved teenagers into the path of bike couriers with one hand and paired up soulmates with the other. That was just how things went! However, inside this house (or, no, Sanctum, Wong had called it), the air was still and quiet.

“Do you think he’s gonna make himself appear out of thin air?” Roger heard Ned ask at a whisper. “Or out of a wardrobe, or a trapdoor, or one of those boxes people get in to get sawed in half?”

“Those are cheap tricks,” Wong said loudly. He stared unsympathetically at Roger’s motley group, hand closed around his opposite wrist to maintain a serious pose. “The man you’ll be meeting shortly has capabilities that far outstrip those of the kind of magician-for-hire you’d find in a phonebook.”

From behind him, Roger heard Peter ask Ned what a phonebook was.

“What kind of capabilities then?” Flash demanded.

Roger sighed and was turning to reprimand his student when Wong said, “Like this!”

The man faked a sneeze of horrific volume and range, doubling over and cupping his hand around his mouth and nose. When he straightened up and presented his open palm, there was a raspberry sitting in it.

Roger closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself and his teaching career played on a fast-forwarded film reel behind his lids. The Sorcerer Supreme was a no-show; all Roger had accomplished was taking the kids to a weird building to witness a man pretend to sneeze out a raspberry. Midtown Tech was going to fire him. His wife would recognize his unemployment as a reason to leave him. Depressingly, Roger was thinking about how that would almost be a relief—an end to his incessant worrying that they were really kind of a mismatch—and he was thinking it while he blankly watched Wong eat the raspberry he’d just feigned dislodging from his nasal cavity.

He was really unprepared for a different man to come sweeping down the stairs, motion with his hand, and have a red sheet come whizzing down after him to settle itself on his shoulders. Roger blinked. He heard the mixed noises of fright and appreciation from his students.

Then Flash piped up with, “That’s just a trick. It’s wires or something.”

Roger backed into the cluster of his charges and, without taking his eyes off the obvious Magical Guy in front of him, reached over and placed his hand across Flash’s mouth.

Unfortunately, his censorship seemed to be too late. The Sorcerer’s narrowed eyes zoned in on Flash.

“Oh yeah? How ’bout this? Is this just a trick?”

Fingers splayed, the man moved his hands in a precise, practiced way and a window opened up in the middle of the room. No, not a window, but Roger was having a tough time wrapping his head around it. What this non-window showed was something that wasn’t the room, that wasn’t a view of the street, that wasn’t anyplace in New York, if he had to guess.

“You can’t just do it like that,” Wong said wearily. Roger felt himself and his students look from one of the men to the other as though watching a tennis match. “There should be a little more finesse.”

“Look,” the Sorcerer told him. “You don’t get to spring this on me and then expect me to ham it up for the kids. This isn’t a David Blaine show.”

“Maybe you should watch one. You might learn something about showmanship.”

“So, it’s fake, right?” Flash checked.

Dammit, Roger had dropped his hand, distracted as he tried to make out what he was seeing through what he was becoming increasingly comfortable with calling a ‘magic portal’ in his thoughts. He scrambled to take hold of Flash’s shoulder—yanking him back would be bad, but dealing with the fallout of him pissing off somebody who could make magic portals would be much worse—but Flash dodged him, swaggering forward to inspect the Sorcerer’s work.

“What is it? Mirrors? Greenscreen? You buy your tech from Stark?”

“Stark?” the Sorcerer spat out derisively.

Overcome with the terrible feeling that he was about to find out what it looked like when a wizard put a curse on a child, Roger sprang forward. As he did, three things happened: the Sorcerer rotated his wrist slightly, the scene on the other side of the portal changed, and Flash turned to the side.

Without a student to grab onto and pull to safety, Roger’s momentum sent him hurtling through the gateway currently connecting Midtown to parts unknown.

Of all the times to trip, he thought.

—

The world was bright and fast and bad. Actually, Roger was almost positive that what he was seeing wasn’t the world at all, but he couldn’t put a name to where he was any more than he could think of better adjectives to describe it. Unless the Sorcerer Supreme owned a magical slip ’n’ slide that operated at speeds designed to train prospective astronauts for space travel, Roger was no longer in his building.

The colour of the tunnel of light surrounding him turned from something like the intestinal track of a unicorn who ate lightning and nebulas to a dangerous, broiling red. Roger kept waiting for his skin to bubble, his face to melt off. Maybe he was the fabled frog in the pot of boiling water and had failed to notice the heat steadily increasing. Because he didn’t feel hot. He couldn’t tell whether or not he felt cold either and before he could work it out, he finally landed.

It was rough.

He curled his arms up around his head, protecting his face. He hit and tumbled, hit and tumbled, banging his shins and elbows, setting off a series of metallic clangs and thwumps like his body was playing drums made of the contents of somebody’s recycling bin. Roger could see—once, shaking, he was able to lower his arms and open his eyes—that his imagination hadn’t been far from the mark: he was lying in a heap of trash.

Trembling like a baby deer, he got to his feet and assessed his surroundings. There were piles everywhere. Piles of stuff. Roger could identify some of the battered objects, but most were utterly alien to him. This was like the time he’d found his wife’s sex toys all over again.

“Hello?” he called out, because he seemed to be alone. “Hel—”

His throat closed off abruptly when he swiveled in place and noticed the sky. His mouth fell open. Was that what he had just come through? That furious-looking, billowing, volcanic, enormous… disturbance? Weather pattern? Entrance to hell, if hell were a mountain of trash?

Oh man. Where was Spider-Man this time? Roger didn’t know which would come first, but if something distinctly reassuring didn’t happen in the next 30 seconds, he was going to either burst into tears or pee his pants. His cool wife was going to be so bummed to have to declare him dead instead of faking her own death. And his students would be traumatized, having just witnessed their teacher disappear before their eyes. He spent a frantic 17 of his 30 seconds wondering if this were Jumanji and he’d started a game without realizing it; being sucked into a board game was another of his greatest fears, ever since he’d watched the chilling horror film Jumanji in his teens.

“Hello?” Roger croaked a final time.

Some other scientist—a Tony Stark type—would thrive in this scenario, Roger knew. They would scavenge the surrounding mounds of metal, collecting and assembling pieces into some sort of technology that would either get them home or enable communication with a rescue team. Would there be a rescue team for Roger Harrington? Would anyone even try to get him back?

The cry/pee conundrum was looking more like cry with each passing second until suddenly, amongst the broken things Roger was aggrieved to consider the lone sentinels of his demise, some kind of spacecraft touched down. Based on his recent luck, whoever was at the helm was likely here to kill him, but he immediately elected to throw himself on their mercy, whether that meant rescue or just a swifter snuffing out of his life than he would otherwise experience on this sad island of garbage as he died from dehydration, starvation, and exposure to that infernal gateway in the sky.

He mouthed the word “help” more than said it as he staggered forward on legs he could hardly feel. A door in the side of the spacecraft slid smoothly open and party music blared out. Roger flinched back as though he had not heard the sounds of civilization in years.

A woman exited the craft. She wore an expression about as kind as the murderous upside-down mushroom cloud in the sky and when their eyes met, she barked, “Back!”

Roger executed an awkward reverse lunge, pleading hands raised. Ok, now that his time had come, he didn’t want a quick death. Put out of his misery? No, he would learn to live with his misery, the way he’d learned to live with his college roommates, or his wife’s collection of handmade bowls! With food and water to sustain him, he was suddenly confident that he could be successfully miserable for years if this intimidating woman would just leave him to his own pathetic devices.

But then, like a visitation from a tan, eye-liner-wearing angel of indeterminate age, a man in gold robes emerged from the vessel. He beamed like he had always been beaming, and always would be.

Just like that, Roger Harrington got it. He got what Hot Chocolate meant when they sang that they believed in miracles. He got the meaning of Kylie Jenner’s year of realizing stuff. He got why a child would send out Valentine’s Day cards in May and why his wife was so dedicated to her hiking group and why he was here.

“Now, what did I say about that before we left?” the angel seemed to be asking his companion, though he’d locked his eyes on Roger. “Did I say to harass our visitor or did I say to be nice?”

The woman narrowed her eyes at Roger, which he felt more than saw; it was possible that he was crying after all. Tears of joy.

“Harass,” she answered flatly.

The angel chuckled.

“You know, I do like having you around. Before you, I said to myself, ‘Next time, get an enforcer with a sense of humour.’” He sighed as his laughter dwindled. “But you can, uh, skedaddle back onto the ship now. That’ll be all.”

“What if you want to melt him?” she queried.

That was enough to tear Roger’s gaze away from the man and send it zipping nervously to the threatening almost-smile the woman was now directing his way. He’d preferred the murder face.

“Melt him!” the angel said, in a tone that implied her suggestion had been ridiculous. (Roger relaxed. A little.) “Topaz, don’t you realize who this is? Don’t you know?”

She shrugged.

“Trash.”

“No, he’s not trash! Do you think I would’ve left the Grand Arena to retrieve a new gladiator by hand? All those Scrappers don’t do my bidding just so I can dig through the garbage looking for fresh challengers for my champion! I wouldn’t even assign Scrapper 142 this task, and you know she’s my favourite!”

When the woman only grumbled, the man pressed, “You have an unbelievable poker face. Do you really not know why I flew all the way out here for this guy?”

“I’m his soulmate,” Roger blurted, because that was the one thing he did know.

He had no idea what a Scrapper was, or whether the man in front of him was more or less important than the ‘champion’ he’d mentioned, or how his homicidal sidekick planned to melt Roger, but he understood what was happening here. Forget the Love Wave—what had come for him had yanked him violently across solar systems, maybe galaxies. He’d been sucked under by the Love Riptide.

The angel pointed at him and proudly proclaimed, “Correctamundo!”

Then he strode forward and folded Roger into a hug. Roger thought this must be what it was like to be a piece of antique furniture, tenderly wrapped in gold leaf.

“I’m the Grandmaster,” he said.

“Roger Harrington,” Roger offered, feeling that his life was entirely surreal as he cautiously returned the hug.

“As soon as I felt you land on my humble little planet here, I came looking. My orgy guests were disappointed, naturally, but I had to put my interests first. What was I, elected? If they wanted a leader who would pretend to care about everyone equally, they should have organized themselves into a viable political party capable of rivalling my dictatorship, am I right?” He drew back slightly and laughed. “You should see your face! I’m kidding. I would’ve had anyone involved in such a thing put to death. Don’t you worry, Hairball.”

Roger cleared his throat. He’d learned so much in the last few sentences alone. Death. Dictator. Orgy. Any one of those things was a lot to confront and yet… he was calmed by the Grandmaster’s presence. He was alive and unmelted. He’d managed to find his soulmate—a man he’d been almost certain to never meet as things stood with Earth’s individually-impressive but cosmically-insignificant progress with space travel. At long last, the universe had smiled on Roger Harrington.

“Just Roger is good,” he said. If last names ever came up again, he would tactfully correct his soulmate, but with a name like ‘the Grandmaster,’ he doubted they ever would.

“Roger. Anything you say.” Gripping Roger’s shoulders, the Grandmaster leaned in and planted a sound kiss on his forehead with a loud, “Mmmwah!”

He asked Roger if he would like to go aboard his ship, apologizing that it wasn’t the one where he’d just been having the orgy and appearing to check Roger’s face for disappointment. Roger didn’t know what the Grandmaster saw in his expression, but he knew it wasn’t that.

Inside the spaceship, Roger looked around with huge eyes. He hadn’t felt this kind of wonder in a room jammed with so much beyond his understanding since the first time his mom had taken him to the New York Hall of Science as a kid. Everything was bright and white and immaculately clean, and Roger could concentrate on all of it because the Grandmaster had Topaz drop the volume of his party playlist until it was just a low pulse of background noise. Seemingly amused by his awe, the Grandmaster allowed him a peek at the controls before gently herding him into a chamber with seating arranged for socializing. A pneumatic hiss sealed them safely inside and away from the woman’s scowl.

“I really just wanna sit here and, uh, just look atcha, but that look on your face tells me you’ve got about a million questions.”

The Grandmaster settled back into the bench seating, resting his long arms along the top of the seat. Across from him, Roger fidgeted, experiencing sensory overload. Soulmate. Spaceship. Alien planet. He found it hard to decide what to ask first. Was that even polite? Was the Grandmaster just saying that Roger could ask questions when he really wanted Roger to say or do something else? There was an awfully flirtatious look in his eye, the likes of which Roger hadn’t seen directed towards himself in several years.

“What is this place?” Roger asked before he could stop himself. “Where am I?”

“Oh! This is Sakaar! Are you saying you didn’t come here on purpose? I figured you weren’t aiming for a pile of trash, but you really didn’t know where you were going at all?”

Roger shook his head so hard that he had to nudge his slipping glasses back up his nose.

“It was an accident. I fell through a wizard’s—uh, I mean, a sorcerer’s—magic portal. That kind of clumsiness must sound pretty farfetched to someone who’s so obviously…” Roger motioned spastically towards his soulmate, the dictator, with both hands. “…in control of their life.”

The Grandmaster laughed, transparently pleased and preening.

“Oh, Roger, you flatter me.”

He stretched out his leg to playfully tap his shoe (gold) against Roger’s (plain, brown, frayed shoelace). Roger jumped, giddy from an alteration in sea level, possibly, plus life-changing events.

“But it really isn’t so uncommon for people, beings, things… to end up here without meaning to,” the Grandmaster went on. “A lot of junk passes through the Anus. Not that you’re junk, obviously.”

With a winning smile, Roger’s soulmate leaned forward and patted him on the knee. He was a touchy-feely guy, it seemed, and it made Roger cognizant of how very lonely he’d been in his marriage, in the last year especially. How skittish around strangers, how unaffectionate with his friends. This was what he needed, and the universe had understood that.

It took his brain a few seconds to catch up with what his soulmate had said, distracted by the comfort he was taking in his easy warmth.

“The Anus?” Roger asked in a choked voice.

“The Devil’s Anus, to be exact. That enormous, horrifying wormhole out there in the sky!” the Grandmaster explained, gleeful. “Best I can guess, it acts as a funnel for accidental travelers, like yourself. And boy, are we ever grateful for that thing. I’ve never had to post any ‘Help Wanted’ flyers, I’ll tell ya that. We need more people serving drinks? Boom. More entertainers? Boom. More lubricators for the orgies? Boom, the Anus provides, baby.”

Roger didn’t inquire what the duties of a person with the job title ‘orgy lubricator’ entailed; it seemed sleazily self-explanatory. He just nodded.

“And now,” his perfect, golden match continued, “the portal brings me my soulmate. I love that thing. It’s really somethin’, huh?”

“It’s really something,” Roger agreed. “Really, really something.”

“You’re looking just a little stunned there, Rodge. Can I offer you something to eat? A drink? I promise, I’m usually a much better host. I feel like I’m positively, uh, bumbling right now.” He beamed.

This man was so many things at once—possibly too many—but bumbling was so far from being one of them that Roger actually laughed weaky in his state of happy, semi-delirium. He accepted the cold glass that was pressed into his hand, the brush of the Grandmaster’s warm palm across his forehead. He had moved to sit right next to Roger.

“You can get used to this place at your own pace, within reason.” His soulmate chuckled. “Heck, we can stay right here a day or two. My plans are cancelled, and when I stop, the world stops. That’s how it is, being the Grandmaster, and that’s how it’s gonna be for you too. You can give all your worries a big, wet kiss goodbye, my love. You’re living a life of luxury now. A court of sycophants, fights to the death in the evening, orgies on a lazy afternoon. I’m talkin’ a life of pure class—”

“Class!”

“Yeah, baby, that’s what I said.” The Grandmaster was wearing a languid smile as he traced the back of his fingers along Roger’s jaw.

But Roger was suddenly too alert to be lulled by welcome caresses and delicious, exotic beverages.

“I was teaching a class before I fell through the portal,” he said. “I’m a teacher. My students are probably terrified. Some of them might be messed up for life after watching me disappear right in front of them. What have I done…”

“So you gave them a cool story to tell their friends! You don’t need to think about that anymore. Now that you’re living here—”

“I can’t live here!” Roger said, seizing the Grandmaster’s hands in his as he tried desperately to explain. “I have responsibilities as an educator! Jesus Christ, I’m married!”

“Roger. Rodge. Rodge. Hey,” his soulmate said, finally disrupting Roger’s spiral of panic. “That’s all in the past. Do you know how many creatures from just, uh, every darn corner of the universe I’ve made slaughter each other for my entertainment? Thousands, Roger, ok? Thousands. And it’s taught me oodles about life. What I’ve learned is that love is the only thing that matters. What all of those poor bastards scream for in the end is their mom, their partner, their best friend. Now, that doesn’t help them, but it helps us. It helps us understand that we’ve done it—we’ve achieved the one thing in our lives that was worth a damn to achieve. I’m not gonna, gonna now be parted from you, sweetheart. You are the point of me.”

Roger felt himself growing teary at the speech. Yes, this had been a whirlwind—they’d met no more than 15 minutes ago—but he was feeling something just as deep as the love the Grandmaster described. It was a fantasy in the best way, the life his soulmate pictured for them (most of it… maybe not the part about slaughter). But it was a fantasy in the worst way too, something so impossible that Roger felt sick for getting as attached to this man as he already had.

“I can’t,” he said softly. He let his head hang down, solaced when the Grandmaster guided it onto his shoulder and wrapped a protective arm around him.

“Can’t you? For me? Roger, if I put you on a ship and send you back through the Anus, we may never meet again.”

Roger squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to be selfish, but there were people he couldn’t leave in the lurch. People who maybe didn’t care about him in a way that was equal to how he cared about them, but that was how any kind of relationship was, apart from soulmates. There were imbalances. He knew he might not be the most brilliant scientist, the most inspirational teacher, the husband a woman would prefer over the outdoorsy hunk in her hiking group, but he knew who he was: he was someone who couldn’t just walk away.

“We’ll be together again,” Roger said, clutching the Grandmaster’s robes. “After.”

Though he didn’t yet know what ‘after’ would mean.

—

It wasn’t as unexpected as it could have been—Roger had always had a feeling he’d die on a school bus.

The difference between his fears and reality was that he wasn’t departing this world in a fiery crash or zooming out of control between the steel trusses and into the East River. There was confusion, there was chaos, there were screams and the violent honking of horns, but there were elements he couldn’t have predicted. Primarily, the giant alien spacecraft hovering over the city. The ship immediately moved into first place of the most ominous rings in his life (he and his wife were not in a good place). Since its sighting, things had quickly spiraled out of control. Julius had radioed Roger from the other bus of students they were chaperoning to MoMA to report that Ned Leeds had ‘flipped his shit’ and Peter Parker was currently missing. Roger had nearly passed out. The only thing that had kept him conscious was his jittery concern for the rest of his students.

At Midtown Tech, they had drills for almost every eventuality. As of 2012, hostile outer space invasion was actually part of their repertoire, but it had always been assumed they would be at school when it happened, not out on a field trip. The most Roger had been able to think to do was get the kids to a secure location. Which meant getting the buses to a secure location. But the buses were on the bridge, and all over the bridge drivers were panicking, mindlessly stomping on the gas and attempting to swerve around the rest of the vehicles. Above the blood rushing in his ears, he’d heard crash after crash, until their bus was hemmed in and, through the smoking, crumpled hoods of their fellow commuters, the alien ship hung stationary in the sky. Disturbingly tranquil as New York City went to pieces to the tune of apocalyptic dissonance just below.

In the end, the spaceship hadn’t stayed put, but Roger had. The lanes around them were crowded with smashed cars. Glass from shattered windshields glittered on the pavement. Still, more vehicles surged forward as drivers attempted to use the bridge to flee the city; this wasn’t NYC’s first alien rodeo. He hadn’t attempted to force any of his students to remain on the bus—they were some of the smartest and the best of their generation, and he trusted their survival instincts far more than his own—but he did direct the ones who fled to first climb up onto the roof of the bus instead of dropping directly down onto the street and risking injury. Yes, he worried about minor cuts and bruises. Even now.

He thought that Flash was staying with him, and was touched. But then he realized Flash was just gripping his shoulder for leverage as he jumped and grabbed for the emergency roof hatch with his free hand. Roger knew the boy was somewhat neglected by his parents, and so, for the first time, he was happy go hear ‘Hotline Bling.’ It was Flash’s ringtone and it played incessantly as his phone rang and rang until the song, and the sound of Flash running, faded into the distance. Somebody wanted to see that he was safe. Somebody cared about him.

Alone, Roger hunkered down between the seats, knees bent in front of him. He scraped one hand anxiously through his hair and gripped his phone in the other.

He should call his wife. He knew he should. Only, he was afraid that she either wouldn’t pick up or she’d answer and be with the guy from her hiking group. Roger wasn’t even upset; he was glad she had someone, if this was it.

Ever since he’d returned from Sakaar, he’d been different, he was aware that he had. In the past, his wife had been largely responsible for the sundering of their marriage, but Roger knew that he was now pulling away too. It had begun inside him—the tear. He wanted to be with two people for two different reasons. In two places, on two worlds. Commitment clashed with longing. Logical rightness fought emotional rightness. He’d been weak, persuading himself daily to tough it out with his wife (even as he slept on the couch every night because lying beside her made him unhappy), when, for once in his damn life, he wanted to be fulfilled. Somewhere out in the stars, there was a man with blue eyeliner and an entire planet at his capricious command and he was the person for Roger.

If only, he thought, picturing the face he shouldn’t have been able to recall so clearly for the brevity of their encounter months ago. Roger shut his eyes to better remember the Grandmaster, and so he wouldn’t have to see his phone clatter to the bus’s dirty floor when the hand that held it turned to dust.

—

As with his life on regular, non-apocalypse days, not much happened to Roger. Despite his paralyzing breakdown on a school bus, he wasn’t among the billions scattered to the wind like sentient dandruff. He picked himself up and went home. Sure, he was shivering almost out of his skin from the shock, but he didn’t collapse into wracking, snotty sobs until he was safely in his living room, listening to his neighbours’ wails through the condo’s walls.

Roger’s wife wasn’t there, didn’t answer when he called her, and, three weeks later, still hadn’t made contact. It took another two months to hold her wake; the funeral business was booming. Never had so many words been spoken over so many vacant graves. Some members of his wife’s hiking group attended, some had even helped him select the right music and flowers beforehand. They knew her preferences. It felt surreal to be burying a person he couldn’t prove—in any meaningful way—that he’d really known.

With a queasy sense of being very lucky, he accepted that, apart from his marital status, his life hadn’t been upended. His windows weren’t broken, his car wasn’t stolen, the few family members he was out of touch with anyway had also survived. He went back to work before anybody called him in. There weren’t any students at first, just the echo of Roger’s clumsy footsteps tripping over the rug in the staffroom, half-solved equations on the whiteboards in the math classrooms, and the unholy stench of unwashed pinnies when he poked his head into the gym storage room to see if Coach Wilson was around. One day, Roger tipped back in the chair at the front of his own empty classroom and spotted a gigantic cobweb in the corner of the ceiling. It made him think of Spider-Man. He guessed that guy was gone too.

The most important thing for keeping sane was establishing a regimen. Work was a big part of that, but Roger also traveled daily into Manhattan to visit the Sorcerer’s place. It became a kind of pilgrimage. Early on, Wong would come out to say hello, but it was eventually less about commiseration and more of a perfunctory thing. Roger knew (assumed, hoped) that if the Sorcerer ever did return, Wong would let him know and welcome him inside. And then… a portal? And then the Grandmaster? He tried not to think about it too hard. Yearning took up a lot of energy and, when his students began to come back to school in distressingly low numbers, Roger needed to reserve that energy for teaching.

Everything was the same, every day, until it wasn’t.

For a reason he couldn’t rationally explain, Roger knocked on the Sorcerer’s door. While he was waiting—just a few seconds, he planned—a man materialized on the sidewalk right next to him. He tottered and Roger reflexively said, “Whoa!” and grabbed his shoulder to keep him on his feet. Before Roger could hypothesize or ask the man any questions, a teenage girl returned to existence a few feet away. Then a woman holding a toddler tightly in her arms. A little boy. A man with a dog. A bicycle-less bike cop, still wearing his helmet. Releasing the man, Roger spun and pounded against the door with his fist.

Still, no one answered.

Fighting the urge to show up at Midtown Tech, Roger made himself stay put, right there on the Sorcerer’s doorstep.

He waited a long time. As the sun set, New York City rose around him. He watched people hugging, running home down the middle of the street. He fielded unfinished questions as the newly returned began to ask him what had happened, what time it was, what year, before jogging away, more purposeful with every step they took. Roger’s foot began to bounce on the sidewalk and his clammy hands twisted fretfully. It was still another 12 hours before the door opened.

Roger fell backwards into Wong’s shins, delirious from the sickening seesaw between urgency and exhaustion. Everywhere, people were reconnecting. He scrambled to his feet because he wanted to be one of them.

“Is he here?” Roger demanded.

Wong narrowed his eyes slightly, holding the door so it couldn’t be pushed open further.

“Might I remind you that it’s me you’ve been seeing here the last five years.”

“Yeah,” Roger agreed, trying to see past.

“I thought we had developed a rapport.”

Finally, Roger met Wong’s eyes, his own pleading.

“No, yes, you’re right, we have,” he babbled.

“We’re friends.”

“Yes, of course, we are friends. Definitely.”

“So when is my birthday?”

Roger’s mouth hung open as he searched his brain for a piece of information he knew wasn’t in there. A few seconds later, Wong turned mirthful.

“Did you spend the Blip hiding under a rock where there are no jokes? Come inside. We just got back.”

None of the thousands of times he’d come to the door mattered—Roger hadn’t been inside the Sanctum since that first time. He hoped the Sorcerer remembered him.

When he saw the man, Roger’s steps stuttered. The Sorcerer appeared grim and wiped out. He was dirty and he looked older, though Wong whispered to Roger that the Sorcerer had been among the Snapped. Roger understood that, for something to go right and bring everyone back to life, something else had gone wrong. He could dwell on that and awkwardly bow his way back out of there, or he could convince himself that things had gone wrong for him too, and that he’d like them to be righted. He remembered that his soulmate was a dictator and tried to channel that sense of entitlement.

“What do you know about the Anus?”

The Sorcerer blinked.

“What.” The word came out perfectly flat.

“The Anus.”

“I wasn’t that kind of doctor.”

Roger strode eagerly towards him, hands gesturing before his words caught up.

“When I was here about, um, five and a half years ago, I fell through your magic portal—”

The Sorcerer snapped his fingers in recognition and turned to Wong.

“Oh, that’s who this is. I always wondered what happened to that guy.” He looked at Roger again. “How did you get back to Earth?”

Roger hadn’t been prepared to answer this question, just make his demands, and he began to explain what had happened to him, all out of order. The words ‘orgy ship’ had barely left his mouth when the Sorcerer was waving him into silence. His expression told Roger he was sorry he’d asked.

“So you went through the portal…” he prompted instead.

“That’s right! And for a while, I was just falling. I don’t know where I was.”

The Sorcerer stroked his chin.

“The connection must’ve been unstable. I know—one of your students distracted me.”

“That’d be Flash,” Roger said.

“Jesus. This is why I prefer not to be a field trip destination. Normally, the portal would allow you to pass cleanly through one place and into another.”

“And instead he passed cleanly through the Anus,” Wong summarized.

“…Yeah.”

Roger glanced from one man to the other.

“So,” he said, “could you do it again?”

The Sorcerer stared at him.

“The short answer is no. The long answer is also no, but it contains a great deal of vernacular to do with the Mystic Arts, so I’ll save us both some time.”

The last time Roger had defended his intellect and qualifications had been years ago, and he was out of practice. Anyway, he didn’t want a lengthy debate.

“Can’t you just open a portal and shove me through?”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a lot going on today. I’ve only entertained you this long because you and Wong seem to be friends. I’m not just going to mess around to humour you.”

“What if you had to do it?” Roger asked quickly, beginning to feel desperate and preparing to metaphorically jam one of his clumsy feet into the closing window of opportunity.

“Uh, let me think about that,” the Sorcerer droned disinterestedly. “No.”

“What if I attacked you and you opened a portal in self-defence?”

The Sorcerer squinted at him in disbelief and befuddlement.

“What?”

But Roger was already gracelessly throwing his weight into a wild, uncoordinated punch.

For once, he didn’t think critically of himself; he told himself that the Sorcerer’s portal sparked up between them because he was intimidated by Roger’s tenacity. And that it didn’t show a clear destination because the Sorcerer’s reaction speed was no match for Roger using the element of surprise. And that he dove purposely through the portal—on a mission for love and science and the unknown—instead of tumbling into it sideways because the momentum of his unpracticed punch had gotten the better of his balance. It didn’t matter. His feet went out from under him and he was on his way.

Roger had forgotten how intense the trip was, but he completely recalled the rough landing, bouncing down through a stack of the universe’s lost garbage. He shut his eyes to the whooshing and the brightness and braced himself (probably too early, but he didn’t think he could be too careful on this reckless endeavor).

He felt his body hit open air and gasped as he fell, trying to keep his limbs tucked in. The hat he’d been wearing was torn from his head. Didn’t matter; it wouldn’t have offered much protection anyway. At any moment, his poor elbows and knees would be battered by space junk. Between his velocity and his fear of the coming impact, Roger could hardly breathe.

Music. A familiar voice singing, It’s my soulmate! made his eyes fly open. Right in time to land on his back. Whatever was beneath Roger was soft, but he’d still had the wind knocked out of him and was struggling to fill his lungs. His eyes clamped shut as he began to cough.

“I have no idea how you survived that thing twice, but I sure am glad I caught ya.”

Finally sucking in a stronger breath, Roger opened his eyes and looked up. His glasses were askew. Above him was the opening in the ceiling of a hovering spacecraft, but closer than that, leaning over him, was the face of the Grandmaster. He was beaming.

“Any trouble with the Anus?” he asked.

Roger grabbed for the hand his soulmate had rested on his shoulder and moved it to his chest, right over his heart.

“The asshole who got me here will probably be thrilled to never see me again, but the Anus treated me just fine.”

“Ha!” the Grandmaster barked. His free hand lovingly patted Roger’s windblown hair back into place. “Welcome home.”

#my writing #MCU #spider-man #thor: ragnarok #Roger Harrington #En Dwi Gast (the Grandmaster)#their ship name is Mr. Master and they're what G deserves on her birthday

19 notes · View notes

jadedxrealityw · 3 years

Text

-Mind Stone- Peter Parker x Female Reader Part 2

☼-☪-☼

Kody: Part 2 in this shit

Movie/Show: After Endgame, but no one died because ignorance is bliss.

Summary: In the attack of 2012, you were given powers that you couldn’t understand at such a young age.

Possible Triggers / Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of blood and harm,

☼-☪-☼

Tony handed you a bandaid. You took it from his hand and notice the cartoon picture of Iron Man on it. What a not surprised in the slightest. You peel off of the paper backing and stick it over the small wound caused by the needle. “Were done, but i want you to stay here until we can get Thor and antlers here”

you exhale deeply. After already spending the night you thought you’d be back at the girls home by now. Not that you wanted to go back, you just didn’t want to hear Nancy’s bitching once you did return “I think my caretaker might worry about me if i’m gone again”

Tony placed the tablet he was holding on the counter and looked at you “Yeah she’s a real piece of work isn’t she. You have special permission now” he says. What in the vague. You hop off the chair and feel your phone buzz in your pocket.

you stuck your hand into the dark grey sweatpants you wore. Wanda offered you clothes to sleep in so you wouldn’t be so uncomfortable. She gave you a matching slightly cropped tank and sweatpants. She was a sweetheart. Once you pull out your phone you tap the screen.

it was a text from Peter ‘Can you get away for a minute?’ you hold back the urge to smile and look up at Tony “Can i go?” you ask and he waves his hand, shooing you way “Yeah we’re good. Get some rest and make sure to hydrate. Now get out”

you roll your eyes with a half smile before walking towards the door “Bye” you say before pushing it open and heading out.

☼-☪-☼

you push open the door you were staying in and saw Peter sitting on the bed, picking at his nails. He looks up once he hears the noise and smiles upon seeing you “Hey” he says. You smile back and walk over to stand in front of him, looking down to meet his gaze “Hello”

Peter looks at you then the bed. What is he a bed? You take a seat next to him, but end up laying back to look at the ceiling “You look tired” Peter says and lays back next to you. You chuckle quietly “Yeah. I got my blood drawn, but at least it’s over with”

Peter hums in response. You notice he awkwardly folded his hands over his chest, not knowing what to do with them. You shuffle over and lay your head on his chest, feeling him instantly tense up. “Is this okay or are you going to implode?”

he shakes his head “No!-” he protests “i mean it’s okay, just uh- just stay there” he says in a more quiet tone. You stifle a bit of laughter and curl up next him, feeling a bit drowsy at this point. Peter wraps arm around your waist “Are you tired?”

“Yeah a little” you respond, closing your eyes. Peter holds onto you as he moves to the top of the bed, laying his head on a pillow “You should sleep then, i’ll wake you up if something happens” he talked in a more hushed tone now. You smile before dozing off.

“Y/n?” he says before he is interrupted by quiet snores. He smiles to himself, wishing he didn’t leave his phone in his bag so he could take a picture of you. Would that be weird? It’s not like he would made it his lockscreen. Nevermind that’s the exact reason he would take a photo.

he raised his free arm to try and web his bag to him, but once he did you started to stir slightly “Not worth it not worth it” he mumbles before kissing your head. He stays still until you stop moving before exhaling. He had never cared about another person's nap so much.

damn his arm was starting to fall asleep.

☼-☪-☼

an hour later

Wanda opened the door to your room and was slightly surprised to see Peter playing with your hair while you slept on his chest “Uh- i knocked, why didn’t you say anything?” she asked. Peter looked down at you for a moment then Wanda “I didn’t want to wake her up. I also can’t feel my arm”

she smiles brightly at the young love “Why didn't you just move her” she questions, folding her arms across her chest “I have never moved each time you fell asleep on me” Vision spoke from behind her. Wanda looks at him with a slightly shocked expression “You can move. I wouldn’t have been mad”

“That’s not the point darling. I don’t want to move” Vision replies. Wanda sighs “Will talk more about this later’ she says to him before “Tony would like to see her in the main lobby. i’m assuming he doesn’t know your here?” she says with a small grin.

Peter smiles nervously “Yeah- i snuck in. I- i- can get her up. Just give me a few minutes” he said with a pleading look. Wanda smiles, nodding and grabs Visions arm “Bye Peter” she said and walked alongside her lover, closing the door shut.

Peter sighs, not really wanting to move at this point, but knew you had to be somewhere. He starts to softly shake your shoulder “Y/n- Y/n you have to get up. Mr. Stark needs you in the lobby” you mumble something incoherent to him before rolling over onto your other side. “No”

he chuckles to himself and stretches his arm for a second “Come on- we can always sleep later” he tries to rationalize. You groan out before propping yourself up on your elbows “Fine, but i’m not going to enjoy whatever the hell is happening” you say in an attempt to be petty.

you hear Peter laugh at your response “I’ll come with you then” he suggests. You smile slightly at the thought and throw your legs over the bed. “Let’s go then” you say and let out yawn. You walk over to the side of the bed Peter was on nd slip your feet into the slippers on the floor.

Peter stands up and reaches up to fix his now bed head. You lift your hand and move a piece of hair from his face “Thank you” he says and you nod. Suddenly, he leans down and captures your lips in his, catching you a bit off guard but you weren’t complaining.

you went to pull away when one his hands was placed on the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. Well damn Peter Parker. He deepens the kiss more by placing his other hand on the nape of your neck. After a couple seconds you both pull away “What was that for?” you ask.

“I haven’t got to kiss you all day” he says with a brow raised like it was so obvious. “Oh okay” you hold back some laughter.

☼-☪-☼

you and Peter walk to the lobby. During your small walk he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kept you close to him while he talked about how he got his powers. A radioactive spider. That seemed much more awesome then being manipulated by a god at the age of six.

“Well look at you two” you both look up too see Tony grinning at the both of you so close together. Peter’s face flushes, but he keeps his arm around you “Tony don’t tease them” Wanda comments. Peter hides his face behind your head until the redness went down.

“Nice one Spider-Boy” you comment, earning yourself a small growl under his breath, which was interesting to hear to be honest. Suddenly a yellow circle appeared in front of the glass doors. You instinctively take a step back, but Peter keeps you in place “It’s okay” he reassures.

you trust his word and stay put as the circle grew quite large. A man stepped out. He was wearing sort of medieval clothes with a maroon cape that seemed to move on its own- Dr. Strange? “Hello” he said to the room and steps to the side as....Thor the god of thunder steps through the portal, hair cut short.

at first you were slightly fangirling inside, but then it sunk in who would walk in next. In all his glory, Loki the god of mischief walks through and stands next to his brother. He was wearing an all black suit. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to throw up or run away- maybe both.

“Would anyone like to explain why we’re here?” Thor asks, shaking Tony’s hand. “I would also like to know that, considering no one here likes me” Loki adds, fixing the cuffs of his sleeves. “Yeah antlers shut it- 2012 attack. Remember talking to a little girl?”

Loki gave Tony a strange look “May i remind you all that i was under the control of Thanos and barley remember a thing. Also, what little girl? I hate children” he says with a face of slight disgust. “I might be able to help you all with that” Strange cuts in.

“Even if you don’t remember anything. Those memories are still locked away in your head. I could access them” he says, gesturing to one of his hands. Loki looks him up and down “I will not have anyone inside my head, that’s sort of my thing” he retorts.

Thor crosses his arms over his broad chest “Why is this important?” he directed his question to Tony. “Infinity Stone cleanup.” he says vaguely. Loki sighs and takes a deep breath after “Fine- make it quick and only look at what you need too.

Strange steps forward “Trust me- i don’t want to look at anything else” he reassures amd steps behind Loki. He placed his hands on either sides of Loki’s head and began to mumble a few words. In an instant it was like Loki became a projector.

his memory was played in a hologram like manner. Peter and you watch from behind so its inverted for the both of you- not like you haven’t lived through it or anything, but okay. All of you watched as Loki gave you the powers and your tiny body float up then faint.

once the memory was over Loki watched the tiny child disappear along with the memory and left standing behind the little girl was you. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together at this point. “Why did you show me this?” Loki snapped, pushing Strange’s hands away from his head.

“Because reindeer games. You under the raisins control only gave her a tad of the Mind Stone’s power- just the teleportation and portals. You gave her some of your powers” Tony says. The room collectively gasped “I- What?” Loki replied before looking at you.

you felt your body tense a bit. Peter felt his spidey sense flare up and kept his arm tightly wrapped around you, but for so long you wanted to confront this guy. Tell him off. Wish him dead, but you had just learned it wasn’t his fault. What were you to do now?

you push away from Peter, despite his protest and confidently walked up to Loki, stopping a few feet away from him “Hey, i guess” you say, shrugging your shoulders. Loki gulps and nods at you “Hello. I uh- i apologize for what i did” he said, you can tell he was struggling to find the words.

you wave your hand “Don’t be. You can do one thing for me though” you say, a malicious grin making a way to your face. Loki narrows his eyes before answering “and that would be?” he asked. What could you possibly want from him?

“Teach me how to use it”

☼-☪-☼

a month later

“You can do better” Loki scolded as he circled around you. You were both in the training room and had been at it for three hours. You were regretting asking him to teach you how to use these damned powers. “Go again!” he exclaims and you form to blades as he charges at you.

you push yourself left and watch as Loki stumbles a bit. You use this opportunity to drop down and kick him completely off balance. Loki falls to the floor and as you went to hit him, he kicked you in the chest, knocking the wind out of you “OH you slimy prick!” you coughed.

Loki grins as he pushes himself off the floor “I’ll add it to the list of things you call me” he says before coming at you again. You stood there and waited until he was inches away before dropping to the floor and sliding across. You end up behind him and wrap your arm around his neck, holding the blade against it.

you could Loki huffs to try and catch his breath “Much better. Now we’re done for the day” he declares. You exhale and let go of him “Thank god” you say and wave your hand, the blade fading away. “I’ll clean up, you leave. I’m sure your bug boy is waiting for you” Loki rolls his eyes.

“His name is Peter and he’s scared of you” you say with narrowed eyes. His frown turns into a small grin “Good” he replies. You chuckle to yourself before walking towards the door “Bye Loki” you say before walking out the room. Time to hit the showers.

☼-☪-☼

after taking a shower, you sat down on your bed, looking out the window. You wished Loki was right about Peter waiting for you, but he had been busy all week with crime and patrolling. He was Spider-Man after all. You had just hadn’t expect to be so clingy.

it was late as much you wanted to stay up for him you decided to just get some rest. You had put on Peters midtown sweatshirt he left a couple weeks ago. It smelt like him so it’ll have to do until you could see your actual boyfriend ago- holy shit. He had never really asked you to be his girlfriend.

how come you didn’t notice that before? You were just happy to be with him that you didn’t care about the labels and such. Strange. You climb into bed and pulled the comforter over you while grabbing a pillow to hug close to your chest. It helped you fall asleep sometimes.

you plug in your phone and place it on the empty space in the bed. Closing your eyes you force yourself to drift off to sleep so tomorrow could come quicker. It was child like logic, but hey- sometimes children logic is all you need.

☼-☪-☼

a couple hours later

your eyes slowly open and your met with the sight of Peter in his suit, just outside your window. He was knocking on it and looking around outside. Not creepy at all. You get up out of bed, using one hand to rub your eyes while the other undid the latch of the window.

“Hey. Sorry for waking you” he says, climbing into the room and taking off his mask. You walk back to your bed and pick up your phone “Peter it’s two in the morning. Isn’t May going to worry where you are?” you question. YOu turn around just as his suit faded into the spider symbol.

Peter shakes his head and places the symbol down on the dresser “No. She knows i’m staying here tonight” he says. You narrow your eyes, walking over to him “You didn’t tell me you were staying over. I haven’t gotten any time with you this week” you say with a small pout.

he smiles and grabs your hands “That’s why i’m here- is that my sweatshirt?” he asked, looking down at the blue piece of clothing. You shrug “Maybe” he shakes his head “You look really good in it Might have to let you keep it” he says and leans down to give you a kiss, but you turn your head away.

“I wasn’t planning on giving it back to you bug boy” you tease. Damn- you gotta stop hanging out with Loki for awhile. Peter’s face drops “I’m ignoring the bug comment for now. You rejected my kiss. I haven’t kissed you all week Y/n” his tone was whiney and made you want to laugh.

“I’m sorry” you say trying to hold back laughter. Peter smiles and finally plants his lips on yours, It was like every other kiss, sweet. Until Peter did his whole hand on the back of your neck thing to pull you in for deeper kiss. You reach up to wrap your arms loosely around his neck.

Peter lifts you off the ground and places you on the bed, breaking the kiss “Hm. I missed that” he whispers and leans his forehead against yours. You smile, looking up at him. You arms fall as you let out a yawn “and i missed my human pillow, now get under the covers”

“Yes ma’am” he replies with a quiet laugh and lays on his back. You lay your head on his chest and tangle your legs with his. Peter pulls the blanket over the both of you “Night Y/n” he says and kisses your head sweetly before closing his eyes. You smile and close yours as well.

“Goodnight Peter”

☼-☪-☼

Click here to join my Taglist

☼-☪-☼

Kody: shitty end, but hey i thought it was decent. Request be open btw. Anyways, peace.

35 notes · View notes