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#I got coffee with mj this morning
and-learn-to-let-go · 7 months
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now ladies, the vibe is crying to the indigo girls on the plane ride back to school
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the-power-of-a-pen · 11 months
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A Way Home
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Fandom: Spiderverse
Summary: Following the loss of his alternate universe daughter, Miguel is reluctant to risk letting anyone close to him and breaking canon again. However, as most anomalies are returned to their universes, there's the issue of you. You don't have a universe to return to. So, after having you on his team for half a year, he adopts you as his child.
Word Count: 4654
Pairing?: Father-child relationship btwn Miguel and gn! reader.
Trigger Warnings: Some cursing, reader is hinted to having a traumatic past (very briefly and vaguely described), 1 reference to reader as "Spiderman" (meant as a gender-neutral phrase)
A/n: This turned out to be longer than I had planned b/c I realized how much I had to add to make the change of heart even slightly natural, so let me know if y'all want a part two of the reader and Miguel interacting further along the adoption. Not sure how I feel about the structure + characterization in this one. Feedback much appreciated! Please!! I'm on my hands and knees, begging for feedback!!!
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"Lyla, status on current anomalies," Miguel ordered. He leaned over the yellow panels in front of him, watching the same scene of him and his child playing over and over again. His grip on the console tightened.
She blipped into view. "Currently, there are 918,503,201 anomalies to be returned to their home universes. That's 40% less than yesterday! Spider-Byte does have an update for you regarding-"
"I'll convene with her later. I'm busy."
"Busy brooding over your twelfth cup of coffee. Not enough sugar this time around?" Lyla teased, only to be met with a glare. "Alright, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. But seriously, it can't wait. A canon event was disrupted and now there's a spider-person without a universe to return to."
Miguel turned around dangerously fast. "What did you just say?"
"Talk to Margo -- she'll fill you in." Lyla blipped away.
------
"There you are," Margo mumbled to herself as Miguel approached. "This one's in rough shape, got dropped in Earth 616 and put up a fierce fight before Jessica took them to HQ. I tried to send them through the Go Home Machine, but it just dropped them back here."
"And you're sure it's not a hardware issue?"
"It's 2099," Margo drolled and rolled her eyes. "There's no hardware issues anymore, grandpa."
"Then try sending them home again. I don't see why this requires my supervision."
"This machine tears people's atoms apart and throws them back together in other dimensions," she explained. "If I run the same person through the machine too many times, they could die."
Miguel sighed heavily and began pacing around. "Well, what am I supposed to do? Keep them here forever?"
Margo looked at him like he was crazy and slowly nodded. "You can't leave them here to die."
"They're an anomaly anywhere they go, Spider-Byte. Maybe death would be a mercy."
"To you," Peter B. called from behind him.
"Maldito sea, carajo" Miguel cursed under his breath, turning around. "I thought you were taking the week off."
"Well, I was going to, but Mayday was begging me for another one of these cafeteria burgers," he said with his mouth full of food. "They're really good, you should seriously try them sometime."
Miguel's eyes darted to Mayday and quickly darted away. "I have work to return to in my office, so if you'll excuse me-"
Peter stepped in his way. "I'm sorry, Miguel, but I can't let you walk away from this problem. It's gone too far."
"I'm sorry, what?" Miguel questioned, laughing bitterly.
"Ok, I'm not great with words, especially not in front of big, strong, angry men, so MJ had me prewrite this, let me just get it- oh, Mayday has it. Mayday, hold the paper up for daddy, thanks, sweetheart."
Peter cleared his throat and began to over-annunciate his speech. "Everyone in this building joined your society because they believed in your ability to lead, shape, and change the world. We trusted you to use humane practices behind your actions and to keep the safety and rights of humanity at mind before all else. However, given the fact- Ok, this is bullshit - sorry, Mayday, don't tell mommy. Point is, Miguel, that you claim that you're all about saving the multiverse and saving humanity, but then you throw half of your sanity away to hunt down a 15 year old kid who just wants to save his dad. You're so obsessed with the concept of saving humanity that you forgot what it's like to care about individual humans. You forgot how to be a human."
"I never forgot what it felt like to care. To love."
"It's okay to admit that the new kid reminds you of your daughter, you know."
For a moment, Miguel and Peter B. just stood across from each other in silence, unable to break eye contact. Miguel's expression was intense, but otherwise unreadable. Then: "Go home, Parker. More and more of you prove that you're untrustworthy when it comes to prioritizing the greater good. I'm not afraid to get rid of you, too."
Peter's arms gripped on tighter to Mayday. He seemed to want to say something, but found it in him to walk away. Once he went through his portal back home, Miguel called for Lyla.
"Hold the chatter, Lyla," he said before she could open her mouth, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Silence any notifications except for the urgent ones. And I mean urgent."
"Well, since you asked so nicely," she remarked sarcastically, but complied.
------
Everything in Miguel's office repeated like a broken record. The video of his daughter. Peter's comment that he "forgot what it's like to care about humans, forgot how to be human." Gwen's "we're supposed to be the good guys." The feeling of his own child glitching out of existence in his palms, the very reason he got into this work. The ticking of the clock. The ticking of that motherfucking clock.
He zipped a web to the clock and smashed it into the ground, falling to a knee amidst the broken glass.
"I understand that you're having a very emo moment right now, Mr. O'Hara," Pavitr began, "But Jessica told me to drop this off." He placed the file on the floor and nudged it over with his foot as far as he could without getting too close. "I'm heading home now, have a great day!"
"Wait."
"Oh, I was afraid you would say that."
"Tell Jessica to report to my office."
"She said to tell you that she's not available until noon tomorrow."
"Of course," he chuckled angrily. "One person's off for the week, another needs 3 weeks of recovery. Now one of my only trustworthy members can't report for duty until tomorrow. But who's checking in on me, huh? That's right - no one. I took on this leadership role because I know firsthand what it feels like to have the only joy in your life, your only reason for living, taken away from you because of your own reckless mistakes. And despite all of that, I made it my life's mission to make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else. But now I'm the villain?! "'We're supposed to be the good guys!'" "'You can't leave them to die!'" "'They remind you of your daughter.'" But does anyone else here know the pain of losing a child you weren't even destined to have?"
Pavitr blinked heavily. "With all due respect, sir, I'm 17."
Miguel barely seemed to hear him. He sank to the floor, running his hands through his hair and not bothering to clear the glass shards around him. "Maybe they're all right. Maybe I'm the one hurting everyone else. Maybe I'll make the same mistake I did before, and take another innocent life because I want to feel fulfilled, just for a moment."
"Should I get someone?"
Miguel sighed. "Just go."
------
“Morning, sunshine,” Jessica called, taking a seat in Miguel’s office. “You had a chance to go through the file?”
Miguel hummed in agreement. “Need a second opinion.”
Jessica flipped through her copy of your file. “Teenager, been Spiderman for 2 years, originally from Earth 45, but got dropped in Ben’s world. A slippery one for sure; took nearly two hours to get them on the ground. Tried talking to them, but they wouldn't speak. I know my stance on this, but what’s yours?”
Miguel paced around the room. “We can’t keep them here. They’re an anomaly regardless of where they go. Margo said that it would be too inhumane to send them through the Go Home Machine again, so… I think we should let them go quietly.”
“Are you serious?”
“When am I not serious?” He took a seat across from Jessica. “I’ve been hearing it from everyone else. I need to hear it from someone who was there from the beginning. Someone who I trust. Am I falling off the edge? Have I gone too far?”
She raised her eyebrows. “You’re just now questioning that? Look, as your friend, I’ll say this: you’re taking too much weight onto your shoulders. You need to stop being Spiderman for a moment and start being Miguel.” She shifted in her seat. “But, as your teammate, I want you to know that I’ll be by your side no matter what you choose.”
Miguel nodded, but he was totally spaced out. All he could think about was his daughter. How he wanted to take this one in so bad, just to feel like a father again, feel like a man again. How he feared the consequences of love. 
Jessica snapped in front of his face. “Earth to Miguel.”
He shook his head. “What?”
“Look, I can’t say that I don’t agree with your initial idea. But I look at them, and at Gwen, and at my future kid, and-” She put her hand on her stomach “-I just can’t imagine leaving them in the dust like that. I was wrong about Gwen, yes, but these kids are suffering. And I don’t know if we can keep making these hard decisions that put these people right back where they were trying to escape from and still call ourselves heroes.”
Miguel held his face in his hands. “I don’t know what’s up and down anymore, right or wrong. I was all of these kids once: Miles, Gwen, Hobie. I know what it’s like to love your family so much that you throw everything else to the wayside. But that cost me my child, and thousands of other lives. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do anything to stop it. I just want to stop the suffering. I just want it to stop.”
Jessica gave him a moment. “Let’s meet the kid. Give them a trial before we make any decisions we can’t take back.”
“Alright,” he agreed, “But if you’re wrong about this-”
“Then lunch is on me. Come on, mafioso.”
------
“Here they are,” Margo announced. “Just so you know, they’re fully aware of their situation, but not very talkative.”
“Let me talk to them,” Miguel insisted. “I want to hear what they have to say.”
As Miguel and Jessica approached, you refused to meet their eyes. Instead, you drew your hood closer to your face.
Miguel took a knee by you, talking through the red barrier. “Hey, kid. My name is Miguel. Miguel O’Hara. I’m Spiderman.”
You gasped dramatically. “No way! Really? I never would have guessed!”
He took in a breath. “So you do speak. Look, we’re trying to relocate you, but we need to have your account of what happened. Why doesn’t your home exist anymore?”
You shrugged and counted off the events on your fingers. “Dalmatian-looking dude crashed through a window at my internship. He went straight for the collider room, and most of my mentors were at lunch, so I went after him. I tried to shut off the collider at the same time he stepped through it, he pushed me into a hole, that lady behind you caught me after an uncomfortably long chase, and here we are.”
“You worked at Alchemax,” Miguel mumbled, though mostly to himself.
“Yeah,” you replied, leaning back. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Did you get bitten by the radioactive spider before or after working there?”
“Did I fucking what?”
“That’s how you got your powers, right?” He asked.
“My powers? Oh, I see what’s happening here,” you laughed. “You’re all off your rockers! Let me guess, this is some alternate dimension Alchemax where everyone’s trying to biologically get the abilities that I developed through technology. Ooh ooh, or, this is an elite spider society trying to save the multiverse from itself!”
“That was really just a guess?” questioned Jessica.
“I read a lot of sci-fi,” you explained.
“Nevermind all of that,” Miguel groaned. “What’s your story, kid? What’s your motive? Because if we don’t have that information, we can’t help get you out of there.”
Your expression became grave for a moment as you considered your options and chuckled bitterly. “My story? My story is that I’m a poor kid from the slums who worked their ass off to get into a good school so that I could do better for my family. My story is that my family never loved me, my friends never cared, and I was forced to choose between what I love to do and what the world needed from me. I didn’t have the power to stop my parents from hurting me or stop people from hurting each other. So, I manufactured that power and took it into my own hands. My story is that the moment I was released from that hellhole of a world, I was locked up in a three foot wide cage and forced to talk about my feelings. I heard what you guys were talking about in that back room. All I ask is that you do it quickly. I don’t like waiting.”
“Miguel, we can take a quick debrief if you need one,” Jessica offered, putting a hand on his shoulder.
Miguel didn’t budge. He looked into your eyes and felt your pain like it was his own. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally: “Let them go, Margo.”
“What?” 
“You heard me,” he asserted. “Let them go.”
Margo released you and offered her hand to help you step down from the pedestal, which you reluctantly accepted. “Didn’t know you were one for sob stories, Mr. O’Hara,” you mocked, though your comment fell through as soon as your legs trembled from lack of use.
“I’m not,” he responded, walking up to you. “But I know an innovator when I see one. You’re hurt, yes, but you have the capacity to do so much good. I’m offering you a place on my team.”
You approached cautiously, your arms crossed. “And if I say no?”
“I’d ask you to reconsider.” He held out his hand for a shake. You accepted, and he smiled. “Welcome to HQ.”
Margo whooped in the background and gave your shoulder a squeeze.
------
“Ok, first mission briefing,” Miguel started, walking backwards.
“On the move?” you asked.
“That’s the only way to do it.” He shot a web to a nearby building and dropped from an HQ terrace. 
You followed suit. “Where exactly are we going?” you shouted over the wind.
“Earth 616. There’s a rogue Vulture stealing tech from Osborn. We’d let it happen, but the man's the only thing between a country of people and an all-out war.”
“Got it.”
“We go in, capture Vulture, and bring him back to HQ. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”
 You stepped through your portal and immediately got whiplash from the pure speed of a nearby aircraft. 
Vulture swooped down from above and tore the tail off of the police helicopter. It crashed into a skyscraper and gained speed as it headed for the street below. 
Miguel spoke to you through the comms. “Trial number one, newbie. I’ll pursue Vulture; you stop that helicopter from hurting civilians.”
“On it.” You dived off of your skyscraper to gain speed and pulled yourself forward with your webs. In one smooth movement, you grabbed the two co-pilots and placed them on the closest rooftop. 
The helicopter was quickly approaching the ground, where children were playing in an enclosed playground. 
“Shit,” you murmured, propelling yourself under the machine to create a landing pad for it at a safe distance from the kids. At the rate you could fire, you wouldn’t be able to stop it on time. 
In the distance, you saw Miguel struggling to keep Vulture away from a construction site, and reached out to him over the comms. “Have him ram into that crane.”
“What?”
“Just trust me.”
Miguel redirected the Vulture, dodging last second when he attacked so that the crane would fall down. 
The crane caught the chopper where it was, and you used it as a crutch to help you redirect the chaos to the empty street. You swung around the crane five times, wrapping an immense amount of webbage around it and attaching along the side of a business building. When the helicopter threatened to fall due to the weight of it, you shot three web bombs at it to keep it in place.
When you reached the ground, you were out of breath and half-heartedly waving to the clapping children and their parents. Miguel placed his hand on your shoulder as you observed the incapacitated Vulture.
“Not bad, kid,” Miguel chuckled. “Not bad.”
------
A good six months had passed, and you had risen in the ranks of the Spider Society. You were still without a place to stay, and had been bouncing from place to place in between missions. The first month, it was Pavitr and his aunt’s place. Then, Hobie’s, then HQ, and finally, Gwen’s. Most of your free time was spent discussing tech with Margo or trailing behind Miguel. 
A building-wide alert had gone off, sending every spider-being into high alert as they searched for the threat.
“What’s the sitch?” you asked Miguel as the two of you bounded down the hall. “A futuristic Rhino that’s suspected to work for The Spot just invaded HQ. He’s trying to destroy our tech and pick us off.”
Just as Miguel had finished his explanation, Rhino crashed through a door four floors below. You both zipped towards him, barely avoiding running into Peter B. as he took a picture of himself, Mayday, and Rhino. Miguel attacked Rhino head-on, performing a spin-kick to the face before webbing his arms together and latching onto his back. Rhino broke his constraints effortlessly, and threw Miguel out of a nearby window. You helped Noir get to his feet and went after Rhino.
By the time you got there, Rhino had Miguel pinned to the cracked concrete. His web shooters were broken, and he was using all of his remaining strength to stop Rhino from snapping his neck. When he saw you approaching, he tried to silently signal for you to go, but you didn’t listen.
“Hey, Alexei!” you shouted. “I never really took you for the dominant type! It doesn’t suit you.”
You swung a piece of concrete at his back and zipped to deliver a punch to the face. Rhino was quick to return the favor, and charged you through a nearby wall. 
Miguel attempted to stand up as backup arrived. He climbed onto Rhino’s back and sunk his teeth into his neck, effectively, though temporarily, paralyzing him. A team of 15 spiderbeings worked to get Rhino back to HQ while you and Jessica helped Miguel to his feet.
“What the hell were you thinking, kid? You could have died,” Miguel snapped.
“You were the one near death,” you argued. “If I didn’t come when I did, you could’ve died. Was I just supposed to let that happen?!”
“Yes!”
“No!” You dropped his arm from around your shoulder and Peter B. went to pick up the slack. “Why is it so hard for you to understand that people care about you? You gave me a chance when no one else would. I lost my world, my home, and my friends. I couldn’t lose you, too.”
“That’s not for you to decide. I can’t trust you like an adult if you refuse to act like one,” he grunted, before wavering in his stance. Jessica helped right him. 
You took a step back and pressed your lips together. “You know, I joined this team because I wanted to save people. I have the ability to save them. And… if you can’t acknowledge that ability, then… maybe you need to reevaluate your interests.” With that, you took off.
Jessica and Peter sat Miguel down to rest. 
“How bad did I fuck up?” Miguel inquired.
“Give them a few minutes to sit on it,” Peter suggested. “Kids are like that. They need time to cool off. Just make sure you talk to them later.”
------
You sat on the slanted glass roof of HQ to listen to music and blow off some steam. Heavy footprints sounded from behind you. You sighed. “If you’re here to argue, can you at least wait until the end of this song?”
“I’m not going to argue with you. I wanted to talk. And… apologize.”
That piqued your interest, but you tried to sound nonchalant as you gestured to the space next to you. “Go ahead, then. Sit.” You turned the music off.
He obliged. “I’m sorry for saying that I couldn’t trust you and that you needed to act like an adult. It wasn’t fair. I do trust you, and there’s no reason for you to act like an adult when you’re still a kid. I’ll be more conscious of my words in the future.”
You nodded. “Thanks.”
You sat in silence for a while, and you began to get up.
“Wait,” he asked. “Please.”
“What did you really come here to say?”
“Just sit, and I’ll tell you.” He waited for you to return to your spot and took a deep breath. “When I was first messing with the multiverse after working at Alchemax, I wasn’t as careful as I am now. I found a world where I was dead, but had a daughter, so I replaced myself and began raising her. I loved her more than anything. But, I was an anomaly, and had disrupted canon events. I felt her glitch right out of my hands. Thousands of innocent people died that day because of me. So, I made a vow to myself: never again. I wouldn’t let this happen to anyone else, and I wouldn’t let anyone get close to me.”
He paused, gulped, and forced himself to make eye contact with you. “Then I met you. And I tried to hate you, I really did. But you’re funny, and you’re smart and passionate, and you have a damn good heart. And everything in me just wants to protect you. I’m so mad at myself for hurting you and-”
You cut him off with a bear hug, to which he slowly responded once he understood what was happening. You shed a few tears into the crook of his neck and mumbled, “I’m sorry, too.”
He laughed, partially in disbelief. “For what?”
“I called you a dick behind your back for the first three months because I thought you had a stick up your ass.” You backed away snickering and wiped your eyes. “But you’re more my family than my parents ever were.”
Now or never, Miguel.
“About that,” he began. “I know you’ve been staying at Gwen’s place - and you’re completely free to stay there if you want - I just thought it might be nice for you to have a permanent place to stay, a school to go to, a familiar face, you know?”
“Not really,” you expressed. “What do you mean?”
“I- it’s better if I just show you.” Miguel took a folder out of his bag and handed it to you. He looked the other way as you processed what he gave you.
“Are these adoption papers?”
“Um… yeah,” he relented, still refusing to look your way. 
“And this isn’t a joke?”
“Of course not. But, it’s also up to you. I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do-”
“Yes,” you cut him off and wrapped him in an even tighter hug. “Absolutely yes.”
------
Miguel helped you carry your few boxes of belongings that you had left at Gwen’s into his modern duplex. 
“Jesus, dude,” you commented. “You didn’t tell me you were rich.”
He laughed. “This is what being a scientist earns you.”
“Damn.” You took the space in. The windows in the living room were from floor to ceiling, the couch a cool grey with ornate yellow and green pillows. Everything was open concept, and both the Mexican and Irish flag hung on either side of the TV. Aside from the occasional painting, the apartment was largely monochromatic. 
“The kitchen is under that loft area, which I usually use as office space, but you’re free to use it, too. Bathrooms on first and second floors,” he explained while walking up the stairs. He stopped in front of the third door to the right. “This is your room.”
You gently pushed open the door. Miguel had prepared for your arrival intensely. A twin bed sat in the back left corner of the room, a desk in the back right. There was a wide panel of windows with shades and a nightstand with knick knacks. A mirror, bookshelf, decorative rug, and bean bag filled the empty space. A poster with a Spiderman symbol hung over your desk, and a smile fought its way onto your face. 
“There’s a closet, too,” Miguel said proudly.
You opened the closet to find it fully stocked with casual, formal, and tactical clothing. “You did all of this for me?”
He smiled warmly. “Welcome home.”
------
It was the following year on Father’s Day, and you were waiting for Miguel to come home when you heard keys turning at the door. 
“Hey,” you called from the kitchen island. “I made dinner for us. And we can watch that crappy comedy show that you like.”
He hung up his jacket and gave you a hug. “Thanks, sweetheart. How was it with your friends?”
“Pretty good. But it took an hour to get Miles out of that Famous Footwear. I swear that boy has enough sneakers to cover the Mediterranean. How was work?”
Miguel grabbed a plate and took a seat next to you. “Well, we finally figured out the malfunction in the control room. Hobie had been messing around with it for his own projects. Shocker, right? But other than that it was just a bunch of boring meetings.”
“Oh, I just remembered something.” You rushed upstairs to get a gift bag from your room and returned, out of breath. “I made this for you. It’s not much, but my job doesn’t start until July and I wanted to give you something, so…”
He removed the tissue paper to find a carefully knitted shawl with his suit designs on it. He remained speechless for a moment. 
“What do you think?”
“I love it.”
“Really? Cuz I could get you something else if you’d prefer-”
“I love it,” he repeated, giving you a bear hug. “I’ll wear it all the time when the weather takes a turn.”
“I thought it might be useful for winter patrols,” you admitted. 
“It will be. I know you don’t like getting too sappy, so let’s watch some TV, yeah?”
Halfway through an episode of the comedy show, you got up to use the bathroom. Miguel paused the show and admired your work on his shawl. When you came back, he was still staring at it as if he were examining each individual stitch. 
“I’m back,” you said when he didn’t acknowledge you. 
He hummed in response. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
You furrowed your brows, worried now. “Is something wrong?”
“No, not all, it’s just…” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I wanted to let you know that I would understand if you want to look into seeing if there’s any way to find your real parents. I love you and I want you here, don’t get me wrong, but if this is something you feel strongly about, I wanted to make sure you knew that my feelings wouldn’t be hurt.”
You stared at him for a while before bursting into laughter. 
“What’s so funny?”
You grabbed his hands and looked him in his eyes. “I found my real dad the moment you brought me here. I’m home.”
He squeezed your hands and repeated your words as if convincing himself of the truth. “You’re home.”
------
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cvrnelians · 1 year
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if the fates allow - chapter one
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dark!bucky barnes x reader: As could be expected, you were just a tad upset about having to spend Christmas in a mental health facility. On the brightside, you didn’t have to spend it alone. Your friendship with Bucky Barnes, another patient on the unit, brought you a certain level of comfort during your stay. When you are discharged from the hospital shortly thereafter—and Bucky is forced to remain—you promise him you’ll be his pen pal until he gets out, after which, you’ll meet for coffee and catch up.
But when things don’t go quite as well as Bucky had hoped, he takes drastic measures to ensure that you remain the integral part of his life he always envisioned you to be.
warnings: stalking, kidnapping, suicide attempts, and non-con elements. proceed with caution.
(gif is not mine)
chapter two // chapter three // chapter four // chapter five
chapter one: losing time
music
🎄DECEMBER🎄 
“So. I got you a little something.”
Bucky smiled at you expectantly, clearly very eager for you to investigate further. You raised your eyebrows at him. It was just so ridiculous. What could he possibly have gotten you, a magic marker from the craft room? A rogue oreo from the kitchen? There weren’t many gifting options to choose from. But then again, maybe he had a creative capacity you were unaware of.
It was only seconds later that you were presented with an origami folded together on the cheapest construction paper known to man.
“Is that…oh, it’s a dog!” you said, carefully picking it up out of his palm.
“A wolf,” he corrected you. “See how it’s howling at the moon?”
That it was.
“That’s actually pretty impressive.”
Bucky looked at you sheepishly. “I can’t exactly take credit for it. I asked MJ to make it for me. I tried to do it myself, but well…”
He motioned towards himself. You didn’t know the specifics of what happened to his left arm, just that there was an accident while he was deployed overseas. He was hesitant to be fit for a prosthetic even years later. He said he had a bad experience with the first one he had tried, that he felt like he hadn’t healed quite well enough to be fitted for another one just yet.
“…you get it.”
You hated that Bucky was so diligent about letting you know what day it was. You already knew what day it was, but you figured if you pretended that you didn’t know it was Christmas Eve, then you wouldn’t feel so sad. So there you sat, side-by-side with your backs pressed up against the radiator in the group room. You were trying to derive as much heat as you could from that ancient radiator, but you knew Bucky was only sitting there for your benefit. It had to have been uncomfortable for him. He was always warm.
He just didn’t want you to feel alone.
“I didn’t get you anything, Buck. I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “You can make it up to me one day.”
The gesture was sweet, so sweet that it almost made you tear up. You tried your best to ignore him as he observed you, shifting your focus towards the inflatable Christmas tree in the corner of the room. You were amazed that MJ hadn’t tried to pop it yet. She had been particularly bothered by the “tree” when she discovered it that morning. At first glance, she greeted it with a cheerful “what the fuck is this?”
You glanced up from your sketchbook (which wasn’t really a sketchbook. It was a marble composition notebook that you and Bucky had both been sharing for the last two days to write each other notes and play tic tac toe) and raised your eyebrows. “A tree apparently.”
“No, it’s not,” she said flatly. “Why can’t we have a real tree?”
Bucky sighed. “Isn’t it obvious? They’re afraid we’ll try to hurt ourselves with the glass ornaments or the branches or something. So we get whatever this is.”
“Come on, guys,” Sharon, one of the psychiatric technicians chimed in. “I think it’s cute. Cleaner than a real tree, too.”
“Sharon, seriously?” MJ scoffed. “This is insulting.”
At first, you thought the hot mess of a “tree” was actually kind of funny. But looking at it now—cheap and partially deflated with stickers and paper ornaments plastered all over it—you would have to agree with MJ. This was a downright shameful excuse for a Christmas tree.
All of it was shameful, really. Here you were, scratching away in your notebook with yet another dull pencil, trying as hard as you could to distract yourself from yet another painful wave of emotions. The “tree,” the “sketchbook,” the pencil. They all looked almost about as pathetic as you felt.
Almost.
Bucky was eyeing you carefully, just as he always did. You had a few friends in the past that were pretty empathetic. Bucky, though…
He was on a whole different level.
He was particularly perceptive when it came to picking up on others’ emotions, namely yours. When you first arrived on the unit, you felt an instant kinship with him. You weren’t sure what he was like with people on the outside, but any time you were together, you felt like the only person in the room. It was equal parts comforting and unnerving. He shone a light on things you weren’t willing to say, things most people preferred to ignore. You wondered if that sense of intuition had anything to do with his military training, with his PTSD. It had to have been. Or maybe he was just always like that and those things amplified what was already there. You would never know for sure.
Sharon sat on the bench nearest to the door, fully absorbed in her sudoku book. You turned to look out the window, slowly clenching and unclenching your fists as you tried to hold back tears. It was snowing outside. Not the ugly kind of snow, either. It looked soft, like it would be easy to shovel or build a snowman with. Was it sad that you would be more than willing to shovel the parking lot just to have an excuse to go outside?
Tomorrow would mark six months since your mother passed away. Half a year. You hadn’t seen or spoken to your mother in half a year. Worse yet, tomorrow was her birthday.
It should’ve been, anyway.
Before you could stop yourself, you let out a sob that clearly startled Bucky. Your voice sounded strange and shallow, and as you continued to cry, you began to breathe faster and faster. It didn’t take long before tears were streaming down your face uncontrollably.
“Hey, hey, no! Come on, don’t do that,” Bucky said, turning to face you. “Hey, come on. Don’t cry.”
You shook your head, raising both hands to cover your face. Your notebook slid to the floor, the pencil rolling across the room until it bumped up against the inflatable tree. The notebook and your new gift fell to your side. You felt resistance against your fingers, like Bucky was trying to pry them away from your eyes, but you kept leaning further and further away from him. You curled yourself up closer into the corner of the wall, pressing your forehead up against the cool glass of the windowpane. Your chest was starting to hurt from the hyperventilation.
Bucky closed in on you, his chest pressed up against your back as he rested his chin in the crook of your neck. He had never been that close to you before.
Shannon immediately perked up. “James, back up right now. Don’t touch her.”
Bucky ignored her, hooking his arm around you and squeezing onto you even tighter. “Shhh. Come on, cheer up. It’s not so bad.”
After a great deal of squirming, he finally managed to pull your hands away from your face. You turned your gaze towards him and he nodded towards the window.
“See, you’ve got the nice view of all the snow out there, you’ve got your new Christmas present, you’ve got your book here.”
“Our book,” you corrected him, your voice thick and pitiful.
“Ah, there she is,” he chuckled. “Our book. And, uh, you’ve got the…you’ve got the tree.”
You let out a sound that was halfway between a sob and a laugh. You felt unbearably hot, and Bucky was only making it worse with his warmth. Somehow, though, you didn’t mind. You clung onto him even tighter, a wave of exhaustion rushing over you. You wanted to melt into that exhaustion, into that warmth.
“You’ve got, uh…”
You suddenly felt pressure against your arms, someone’s fingers pressing into them. They were attempting to shake you away from Bucky’s grasp, but he wouldn’t budge.
“James, get off her now!” Sharon yelled.
“Sharon, h-he’s fine,” you stuttered, clutching onto his shirt. You were coughing, struggling to breathe as she yanked on your arms. “Seriously, he’s—”
“No, he’s not. Boundaries, James!” she shouted. “We’ve talked about this! Scott, get in here!"
“Let’s see what else,” Bucky continued, his voice low and soothing in comparison to the yelling reverberating off the walls. “We’ve got Sharon over here, our babysitter.”
Maybe it was the way he was joking around with you, maybe it was his warmth, maybe it was finally getting the chance to experience intimate human contact in such a confined, depressing place. Maybe it was the intention behind it all, a genuine attempt at comforting you. The concentrated effort to get you to stop crying. You weren’t quite sure. But in that moment, you were struck by something you thought had withered and died in you long ago.
The eager and persistent desire to live. To be alive. And not only that.
To be wholly, completely, fully alive.
“And I’m here. You’ve got me. See?” he mumbled. He was so close his lips were almost pressed against your neck. “Nothing to worry about.”
For just a split second, you actually believed him.
It didn’t take long for reality to set back in.
Sharon started violently pulling on Bucky’s arm. At a certain point, he chuckled and rolled his eyes, shifting away from you. Even with one arm, he was still ridiculously strong. He let his limbs go slack and allowed her to pull him up with one quick tug. Her eyes widened, perplexed by his sudden obedience. He rarely, if ever, did what anyone told him to do. You partially wondered if that was why he had been there for so much longer than everyone else.
Staff rushed into the room, followed by a few nosey patients. Once they entered, Bucky raised his hand up in front of his chest defensively, meandering towards the doorway as if nothing had happened. Much to your chagrin, he would probably be monitored more closely when he was around you now. 
They couldn’t stop you from talking to each other, though, could they? 
Right before he was escorted into the hallway, he looked over his shoulder at you and winked.
“Merry Christmas, doll.”
❄️JANUARY❄️
You hadn’t composed a handwritten letter in a very, very long time. You had a penpal when you were growing up, a boy you befriended at summer camp. From what you could recall, it had been a fun experience. You loved the anticipation of waiting to receive another letter, and the rush of excitement you felt when it finally arrived. The writing part was fun, too. You loved the process of filling Peter in on whatever was going on in your life at the time.
You would never forget how sad you were when Peter stopped writing back. You sent him three letters in a row before your mom finally convinced you to give up.
“He probably just moved away and doesn’t remember our address,” was her explanation. “Or maybe it got lost in the mail. He’ll get back to you eventually.”
You were all too happy to accept her version of the truth back then, delusional as it was. Every once in a while you wondered what Peter was up to nowadays. You once even considered looking him up on Facebook or something, but then you realized how psychotic that was and refrained from doing so.
As you stared at the little origami wolf sitting on your dresser, the prospect of writing to Bucky felt a lot less joyous to you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hear from him. You did. It just hurt you to think that he was trapped in a hospital during the most depressing month of the year. It was just so unfair. You had only been there for a few days, and you got to leave before he did. Granted, his situation was much more dire, and perhaps he only had a few more days left before they were going to let him out.
Likely not, though, based on the fact that he asked you to send him letters. That implied that there would be ongoing correspondence between the two of you, meaning he somehow knew that he’d be there for a while. You just wondered for how long. He probably wondered the same.
He was a “repeat offender” in that particular hospital, meaning he wound up there following a suicide attempt more than once. He had been a prisoner of war, and with that came severe PTSD. You would never be able to forget the sound of him screaming in the middle of the night, waking you up out of a dead sleep from several rooms away. Out of everything he endured, all of the symptoms he had been living with on a daily basis, he always said the nightmares were the worst.
“Hey, on the brightside, they let me have the room all to myself this time,” he had said the morning after one particularly rough night.
Bucky had been suffering so much, and for so long. He didn’t deserve to be under anyone’s control anymore. He hadn’t deserved it to begin with. However, you knew that his physical safety took precedence over everything, and if he posed a threat to himself, maybe it was better that he was there—as upsetting as it was.
To get yourself in the spirit of writing, you had purchased a set of multicolored gel pens. You sent three to Bucky and kept three for yourself. Yours red, orange, and yellow, and his green, blue, and purple. You thought he might get a kick out of them. You hoped he would, at least. When you were in a place that was so bleak and void of color, it was the little things that stuck out to you. They were ballpoint pens, not exactly sharp and lethal instruments, so you were hoping the staff wouldn’t intercept them.
You kept your first letter short and sweet, just so he wouldn’t feel any pressure to write you a mile-long response if he was tired or disinterested. You felt awkward and self-centered writing him a three paragraph update on your life, so you ended it with some questions about how he was, what he had been up to. That was what you really wanted to talk about.
As you went to put his name on the envelope, you stopped yourself short.
Bucky 
Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes
You received a reply in less than a week. You were delighted to find that your wish had come true. He had been allowed to keep the pens. Not only that, he had used them to write to you. You thought your decision to give Bucky the cool colors while you kept the warm colors for yourself was an apt one. When you were in the hospital, he was always wearing dark colored sweaters, most of which were black and gray. He told you that when he was first admitted, one of his friends had stopped by and dropped off a bunch of clothes for him to wear. There was one blue sweater he owned that you particularly liked. You weren’t sure why he didn’t wear it more often. 
He looked nice in blue.
Hey dollface,
Sergeant Barnes, huh? And here I thought we were on a first name basis!
How are things on the outside? Miss me yet?
I can’t even begin to tell you how much I appreciate you writing me this letter. Not sure if you’ll think this is pathetic or not (and even if you did, you probably wouldn’t say anything, would you?), but it gives me something to look forward to. I was having a pretty horrible day—and let’s be honest, every day is a horrible day in this place—but when Sharon told me I had mail from you, my mood was instantly lifted. It reminds me of when my pal, Sam wrote to me back when I was in basic training. That feels like a lifetime ago. It kind of was.
God, I feel so old lately. And I’m only getting older. I’m becoming more and more aware of that with every minute I spend here, the fact that I’m losing time. Wasting time. My sisters came to visit me the other day. I haven’t seen them in a while, probably a good year or so. You’ve only ever known me with long hair, but they were shocked when they saw me. They were absolutely relentless about it. It was strangely comforting.
Sometimes I wish I would have met you when I looked the way I used to. Back before all of this happened. Way back, before I was ever deployed. I was a completely different person then.
Although maybe you wouldn’t have liked me so much back then. I was much more sure of myself. Probably too sure of myself. I had a lot to learn. 
You seem to like the person I am now.
I’m not so sure I agree.
I’m slowly but surely getting better. At least that’s what everybody is saying. I’m feeling a bit calmer, less jumpy. Even Dr. Banner can see it. I think the meds are working. They have to be at this point, right? The nightmares are still there, of course. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever stop having those.
Oh, before I forget - MJ won’t admit it, but I can tell that she misses having you around. She made a little sketch of everyone on the unit the other day, and she included you in it. I might miss you a little bit, too.
Come visit me sometime, won’t you?
James
P.S. - Ever seen a decorated soldier write a letter in purple gel pen before? If I could roll my eyes in writing, I would.
Only for you.
-
this is a reupload of a story i wrote over a year ago. it's good to be back on this hellsite lol. thank you for reading 💌
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mj-iza-writer · 5 months
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Day in the life prompt. This was another request. I'm doing this as day in the life of Caretaker and Whumpee with Caretaker.
Then, Whumper and Whumpee with Whumper will be written in a different story. I think this will be too long if I do it all here. I also want to write Caretaker with a recovered Whumpee as well, but I know I've written several already. I enjoy that trop a lot. - Mj
I'll tag as # day in the life whump addition
Caretaker woke up and got ready just like any other day. They made their way down the hall doing their final adjustments to their outfit.
They quietly peaked in on Whumpee, who seemed to be sleeping comfortably. It wasn't quite time for them to get up, so Caretaker quietly closed the door again.
Down in the kitchen, Caretaker started their pot of coffee, and prepped breakfast. They also prepared Whumpee's morning medicine to have with breakfast.
Just before waking up Whumpee, Caretaker wrote the agenda of the day on a whiteboard so Whumpee knew what to expect today.
Whumpee woke to Caretaker gently shaking them. Their eyes fluttered open to a smiling face.
"Good morning Whumpee", Caretaker whispered.
Whumpee stretched and tried to go back to sleep.
"No, no. We can't go back to sleep, it's time for breakfast. You can have a nap later if you want", Caretaker gently pulled Whumpee to a sitting position, "come on."
Whumpee yawned and gave a tired look to Caretaker.
"I'm glad you're finally getting better sleep", Caretaker smiled as they swung Whumpee's legs around to help them up, "I'm sure your doctor will be happy to hear that as well."
Whumpee nodded, "I think that medicine they recommended helped, I didn't have any nightmares either."
"That's good, I'm glad", Caretaker grinned.
Whumpee was left to get ready.
Whumpee pulled on the outfit they lovingly called their comfy outfit. Loose fitting sweats, a long sleeve shirt that hid all of their scars and bruises, lastly, they found a pair of fluffy socks.
Whumpee looked into the mirror when they were all dressed.
"Well, I blend in a little. I still look frail and sick, but at least people can't see my injuries", Whumpee shook as they thought back to those days.
"Whumpee, I'm plating breakfast", Caretaker called to them, "please hurry a little if you can."
Whumpee practiced a breathing exercise to calm themself, then left the room.
They stopped at the board to read what was on the agenda for the day.
"Ugh, another doctor appointment today", Whumpee kept reading, "Ooh, that sounds good for dinner though."
Caretaker looked out at them, "oh good. Just in time."
"What doctor are we going to today?", Whumpee looked at them concerned, "I thought I was done for a while."
"Just a quick follow up with Doctor Pete, one of your test came back, and it needs to be retested", Caretaker looked over the board, "let's get breakfast and take your medicine. We have a while before the appointment."
Whumpee followed Caretaker to the table where breakfast was waiting.
Nothing major came up from the doctor... thankfully. Doctor Pete wanted to do a just in case test to make sure nothing was missed. Whumpee seemed to be healing really well.
On the way home Caretaker treated Whumpee to a sweat stop.
Whumpee now had a pound of candy sitting on their lap, and a big grin to go with it.
After lunch, Nurse Casey came by.
She watched over Whumpee while Caretaker took a break.
Caretaker went out for some errands and a few friends wanted to meet for coffee.
Nurse Casey did physical therapy with Whumpee, then let Whumpee lead the afternoon activities until Caretaker got home.
After Nurse Casey left Caretaker allowed Whumpee to have some private time to do whatever they liked while they worked in their office.
"I find it's important to let you have some personal time so you can become a little more independent. Though I will still be nearby in case you need me", Caretaker often said, "I believe you could become smothered with too much attention from me, and that could cause negative results and stress. Plus, you've spent the last few years around people with ill intentions, so I'm sure some peace and quiet is appreciated."
Caretaker encouraged Whumpee to pick up hobbies and interests as well. There was a good chance Caretaker would already have anything you could think of on hand. If not, they were happy to order it if you wanted.
Caretaker worked in their office for a while. They had to update Whumpee's care charts and journals as part of the care. They kept everything neatly filed in case the courts or detectives needed information.
This day, Whumpee had pulled out a puzzle and was working on the dining table.
Caretaker peaked in in time to see Whumpee blankly looking at a piece.
"Doing okay Whumpee?", they walked up beside them.
"Um, yes, I just realized my life has become like a puzzle. It feels impossible to put together though", Whumpee looked up.
"Yes I suppose it does", Caretaker took the piece from Whumpee, "sometimes it's good to work on puzzles together though", Caretaker placed the piece down into the puzzle Whumpee was working on. It was a perfect fit, "having a team to help you get the pieces together makes things a little easier."
Whumpee looked up at Caretaker with a, thankful expression, "thankyou", their lip quivered.
"You're welcome, Whumpee. I'm always here for you", Caretaker turned, "I'll be in the kitchen preparing dinner and getting your evening meds together."
That night, Caretaker brought Whumpee's last pill for the night to the bedroom. Whumpee was resting in bed already, but sat up to take the medicine.
Caretaker sat on the edge of the bed as Whumpee took the pill. Caretaker listened as Whumpee talked. They smiled when the pill seemed to be working.
"I caught that yawn", Caretaker grinned, "your eyes are getting heavy."
Whumpee nodded tiredly.
"That medicine seems to help you wind down a lot", Caretaker helped Whumpee lay down, "it works pretty fast for you as well."
Whumpee nodded again, "my whole body is untensed as well", they yawned, "I like that feeling."
"I'm glad", Caretaker covered them, "I'll be in my office for a while, then I'm going to bed. Call if you need me, okay."
Whumpee nodded, "thankyou Caretaker for taking care of me. I appreciate you so much for helping me."
"You're welcome Whumpee", Caretaker started to leave, "get some sleep."
Later, after Caretaker finished their notes for Whumpee's day, they made their way to Whumpee's bedroom to check on them.
Whumpee snores lightly as Caretaker pulled the blankets up again.
"Goodnight Whumpee", Caretaker looked over the sleeping Whumpee, "you are an honor to take care of."
Caretaker yawned, "it's time for bed", they stretched as they walked to their bedroom, "then we'll do it all over again tomorrow", they smiled.
Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @weirdthingweee
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letsunity · 10 months
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With Thunder Comes Lightning
Summery: Peter and MJ tried again, but the spark wasn't there; they stay as friends to raise their soon-to-be daughter. Everything was going great until evil goop and a spooky vampire guy fall out of an orange portal. Little does Peter know that the biggest pain in his ass and future mutant best friend has landed right at his feet.
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art by darknessdearm
Chapter 3 - Society
"That's it?" MJ questioned, confused by the broken sphere on her coffee table. "This is how a super sinister snot has been killing entire universes?"
"Essentially," Peter answered, equally unimpressed. "He'll be hopping from body to body now, trying to find this."
"Another question. Why can't he do what Venom and Eddie do?"
"It's like a compatibility thing. Symbiotes need a host that fits them. Klyntarus is so toxic that people melt and burn."
"Oh, so Miguel's compatible?"
"What?"
"You said that he doesn't burn when Klyntarus touches him. That means he's compatible, right?"
Oh, shit.
She's right. Of course, MJ was right; under all that glowing ruby hair was a brilliant brain that could detect things Peter couldn't.
That explains why Klyntarus is so obsessive, at least. The fact that his fellow spider wasn't a puppet meant that there was something more to it, though.
Whatever made Klyntarus so toxic and unstable must alter how he takes over people that are compatible with him. There's a lot that Peter doesn't know about him, although he's aware that the beast is vindictive.
Who taunts someone over the death of their child? That's horrific, especially when they're the killer.
"This is why you're the brains between us."
"Alright, we destroy whatever this is and hunt the goopy bastard down. Is that about right?"
"Pretty much. The sooner he's gone, the sooner we can focus on the little one," he smiled, unable to look away from her bulging stomach. "Don't worry yourself, MJ. We got this. We always come out on top."
That's what Peter wants to believe, anyway.
He can't do anything against such a monster. At most, he can be a distraction. How do you fight something that you can't hit?
Fighting alone wasn't going to work. They needed to talk to the others.
He doubted that the Avengers would be open to Miguel; he's already stolen from Stark. The X-Men, however, are more open-minded.
Wolverine would be an annoying bastard as always, but with help from Professor X, they can kill this bug.
"You can't stay here." Jesus, how is such a big guy so quiet? "He'll be coming for you. Staying here isn't safe."
Their guest had taken a morning shower. Annoyingly, he also decided not to put a shirt on afterwards. It was his choice, of course; it was better than no pants.
The problem was that he looked good.
Without the bandages, burns and blood, he looked good. Great, broad shoulders with detailed muscle. His arms were thick, and his waist surprisingly slender.
Peter could see the V line of his hips disappearing into his pants.
His hair was still wet from the shower, making those dark brown locks frame his face perfectly. Those cheekbones could cut through paper. Beautiful red eyes, the same he regretfully punched at, didn't look nearly as menacing on him.
The scars, though...
They were so deep, long, ragged and twisted. Many of them stretched with age. What disturbed Peter the most were the clinical, surgical scars. Although it was probably from surgery due to being Spiderman - it's an injury-prone job - something told Peter there was more to it.
"About that. I was thinking - shock and horror, I know - we should go to the X-Men for some help."
"They won't be as helpful as you think."
"I mean, it's better than the two of us."
"They'll all go after him, Peter, and they'll all die. He'll hop from their bodies, trying to find the most stable and abuse their powers. I've seen what happens when Xavier loses control over his power - it's not pretty."
The idea of that was terrifying.
"What haven't you seen?" MJ asked, which was a good question.
"I haven't been to the universe where everybody is a zombie, so I technically haven't seen that."
"I wanna see that."
"No, MJ, you're not going to the super dangerous zombie universe," Peter sighed, wishing Miguel hadn't mentioned that.
"Don't be a buzzkill!"
The smartest of them wanted to go to zombie land. They're doomed.
"That entire universe is on lockdown; nobody can go to it."
That sentence confused him. What did he mean by that?
Quickly, the other spider regretted saying that.
MJ looked to Peter, seeking answers that he didn't have.
"Are there others with you?" she asked.
"I'm not talking about that," Miguel shot down, silently sinking away in the corridor.
Peter's not going to let him slither out of this.
"Miguel, do you have like a team or something? Is that what Klyntarus meant by "no backup"?" Peter pressed, but it only made the other spider close up more. "If there's help, we should ask for it."
MJ couldn't move quickly, but she wanted to know what happened.
He would get answers.
Peter followed. If he decided to leave the house, Peter might be unable to follow. Annoyingly, his fellow spider is adept at disappearing without a sound. It's a little creepy how little sound he made when he moved.
He heard the window open, and Peter shot his web, sticking Miguel's hand to the wall.
"¡Ay, coño!" he hissed, glaring at Peter. "Could you not web me?" the other spider growled, scratching the webbing away.
"You're not going to run. We're in this together, big guy. We're going to be open and communicate - alright?"
Miguel growled again, his fangs peaking. They do things that they shouldn't to Peter - did he have a vampire thing? That's awkwardly unhelpful and sudden.
His new friend was pacing, distressed and irritated. He sounded like an upset dog.
Peter crossed his arms, waiting.
They will talk about it, and Peter will chase him if he has to.
"You didn't mention that there are others," Peter stated, less than amused.
"You weren't supposed to know. That's obvious."
"Well, why?"
"That's not a rabbit hole you want to go down, Parker."
"A super evil snot killed my friends and nearly buried me alive. I'm down the hole already. I'm deep underground and tanning in the planet's core!"
Part of him felt bad for pushing his friend like this, given how malicious Klyntarus was, but it was necessary. They needed help, and badly.
If they can get any assistance, they need to take it.
"You're not going to like it."
"Oh, right, because the past two days have been joyous and sunshine and rainbows. Can't you see how happy I am? I'm glowing! I cracked my back; I'm shining like a glow stick," Peter huffed, hands on his waist.
He's getting more self-conscious over his weight for some reason. It's already something he hates about himself, but compared to Miguel, he appeared obese.
"Alright. Fine."
"Great."
"You're contaminated."
"And immediately, you've lost me."
"Earth-1610B. You and four others were pulled into that dimension. The Spiderman of that universe died and was replaced. I made my first autonomous universe jump a few hours afterwards. That entire universe is in quarantine now."
He's completely lost.
Miguel knew who Peter was the whole time. He's always known. He knew about the others, too.
"Alright, why's it in quarantine? Is Miles alright?"
"Miles is why it's in quarantine. The spider that bit him was never supposed to - it belonged to another universe now lacking a Spiderman. As soon as Miles got bit, that universe became unstable. Holes were torn in the multiverse, and people are falling through - we call them anomalies, and our job is to put them back where they belong. Miles is designated as the original anomaly."
"That's a whole lot of information."
"I said it's a rabbit hole!"
"There's a rabbit hole, and then there's an entire tunnel system. I mean, it's not Miles' fault that he got bit! It was those Alchemex idiots. He shouldn't be treated as some "anomaly" for that!"
"That's not the only reason. It's also because he might be... compatible."
"What? Compatible with what?"
Peter already knew the answer, but he didn't want it. Not the kid.
Miles was a good kid. He didn't deserve that level of burden on his shoulders. He's just a kid!
"If Klyntarus realises that there's someone else he can use, someone that can't fight him off, the kid won't stand a chance. He'll already know about the situation with you and the others. We... deliberately avoided you so he wouldn't catch on. All of your universes have been quarantined unless there's an anomaly."
"And the goop himself became an anomaly in my universe."
"I grabbed him as he tried to escape through one of the holes Earth-1610B tore. He's been much harder to track because of those holes. He's a slippery bastard."
"Your watch thingy is broken; you can't call anybody, but you were alone when you came through."
"I've been putting together a Spider Society - they voted on the name; I think it's stupid. Spiders from different universes support each other and provide help if Klyntarus or another anomaly shows up. And I came alone because... I wasn't going to repeat a mistake."
Miguel pressed his back against the wall and slid down, sitting awkwardly.
It felt like an interrogation, but Peter didn't mean that. He wanted answers about this utter clusterfuck.
How is he supposed to feel?
None of this is Miles' fault, of course. It's not fair. While he didn't know about the spider, it's still not Miles' fault. He hated that Miles had to be alone because of that vicious slime.
If it weren't for Klyntarus, so much would've never happened.
The idea of a spider society sounded incredible, and Peter wanted to dive headfirst into it. He hadn't been allowed to because of something nobody could've foreseen or controlled.
Except for Kingpin, obviously; that's his fault.
Peter sat beside the younger spider, feeling bad since it visibly weighed on him.
"I'm going to guess that you weren't alone last time," Peter said, keeping his tone soft and non-accusatory.
"It was early on. There wasn't a lot of us, only a small team. Ten spiders, including me. They all died," Miguel sighed, sounding a little detached, possibly a sign of disassociation. "I decided to bring them, and ten universes suffered; I wasn't going to let that happen again."
How many people has he lost to that evil slime? The stress of enduring all of that must be horrible.
How much has Klyntarus taken from him? All because he was compatible?
Peter couldn't imagine how lonely that was.
"You went after him on your own?"
It's not a question, though his voice made it sound like that. It didn't feel right for this to be happening. How can someone be carrying all of this on his shoulders alone?
That's how it is as a lone Spiderman, though. You're all alone, lost in a sea of web and tragedy.
The mere concept of a Spider Society was almost a glimmer of hope. It gave them a chance at community, to be with others like them. People that understood the burden that they carry.
"That's how it always is and how it should be. When people try to "help" me, they die, Parker. You and MJ are in danger now, and that'll never go away; he'll always wait to break you, no matter how far you think you are. And that's because I failed. Again."
Depression is a bitch to live with. It's a physical piece of you that doesn't go away, only going briefly dormant.
Peter spent a while dealing with it alone. He was isolated, depressed, miserable and tired of everything. Meeting Miles kicked him up the butt and made him feel alive again.
At least he had somebody.
"You don't want anyone to help because they'll die."
"They always do. I failed to kill him, and now all of you are in danger."
"You never intended on surviving that bomb."
"If it means killing him, I don't care."
Peter is picking up PTSD, depression and possible suicidal ideation. That's not great.
It's possible that Peter could repay what Miles did for him. Help somebody, offer a hand while they're drowning in nothingness.
His friend was alone, and Peter knew how suffocating that could be.
"I care."
"You shouldn't."
"Too bad, kid."
"Don't you dare start the age card with me!"
"My knees pop like bubble wrap. I earned my age card."
"If you call me a kid, I'll call you old man."
"Sounds like a deal."
"No!"
The mood was lightened; the true power of Spiderman!
"I'm already fat. Being called old is sprinkles on the ice cream."
"Estás obsesionado con la comida."
"It would've been great if I paid attention to Spanish in college."
He was busy falling asleep in class and swinging everywhere at night.
"At least you got to go to one."
"Motherfucker, you built a watch that takes you to other dimensions but never went to college?"
"Didn't go to any school. My "father" kept me locked in a basement for my childhood."
That explained a lot.
Everything about this guy was just miserable. His universe sucked.
"Fuck that guy."
"Yeah. Was it any good? College."
"Honestly? Waste of time."
"Good to know I didn't miss anything."
MJ opened the door, probably having been listening to them.
She came in and awkwardly shuffled beside Peter, laying her head against his shoulder.
They're in a messed-up situation. Somehow, they'll stop interdimensional splooge with as few casualties as possible. It sounded much easier than it was.
That sludge was infecting people, jumping like a virus to survive. They need to find him and burn him.
Also, they need to fix Miguel's funky watch. Despite his reservations, they need help.
"I shouldn't have sat down," MJ huffed, regretting her choice. "Can you boys help me?"
"Yeah, I'll carry you," Peter sighed, emotionally drained. "Don't stress yourself, MJ. We got this. Don't we, buddy?"
"You're overly optimistic."
"And you're a negative Nancy."
"My name isn't Nancy."
"It's a saying, dude."
"If it's because of the alliteration, it's a stupid saying."
"Both of you shove it before I take off my slippers," MJ chastised, annoyed.
MJ's the boss of the trio, as well as the mini-MJ.
Honestly, Peter wasn't confident about anything. He felt useless, regardless of his endeavour to help.
She wasn't safe in this house anymore, and that hurt. What father couldn't protect the mother of his child?
"We need to get you somewhere secure," Peter said, wrapping his arm around her. "It's gonna be dicey for a bit."
"We'll find something. I've got faith in you."
At least he has that.
75 notes · View notes
itsscromp · 5 months
Note
the venom scene with Harry Peter and MJ at the table but with reader replacing Harry with the symbiote😶
Peter Parker x Venom Reader
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OOOH I love a good role reversal, This will be interesting. Thank you for this anon. Word count:943
It was a race against time for Peter to save you, He just managed to get the symbiote off of him, he went back to you and tried to warn you about the dangers of it rebonding with you. But you didn't want to hear any of it, you were more concerned about yourself and fought peter to get the symbiote back.
But when you did, he was horrified by what you became, you became this hulking monster. A more sinister version of what he endured with the symbiote suit. You raided times square and even killed Kraven soon after. What have you become y/n...
Back in Queens, MJ was reading the comments about her latest story from when Peter was under the influence of the symbiote, Considering to delete it now knowing the truth, she was interrupted by a video call from jameson.
"I hate this.." She sighed as she answered the call.
"I love this !!" Jameson greeted her.
"You do ??"
He chuckled "You've hit the nail on the head, FINALLY. Top story, Everybody's talking about it. This is EDITOR material."
"Editor" MJ was a little shocked.
"Congratulations, Your first assignment: write more juicy stuff by tomorrow morning !! Drama, controversy! Just like this"
"Like this..??"
"Get writing !!" And with that Jameson hung up, Crap this was not was she wanted, to continue to spread lies about Peter. She then picked up her phone and began to face time Peter.
"MJ.." Peter greeted.
"I, uh... didn't get fired from the Bugle, In fact, I think I got a promotion."
"Hey! That's what you wanted, right ??"
"Yeah, I... I thought it was"
Then that's... Great... Hey listen, something's gone... wrong with y/n"
"Wha... What happened ??"
"Well..."
But before Peter could answer fully, she got a knock on the door. "Hang on, someone's at the door."
"It's kinda hard to explain, just... Promise me you'll stay away from them, okay ??"
But when she answered the door, you were there, standing in front of her with a threatening look on your face.
"MJ ??"
You then raised your arm and tendrils emerged, slithering to her as you hung up the call. Shoot, you were there, Peter then swung as fast as he could to the house, he needed to stop you before you hurt MJ.
"Y/n, What the hell ??"
He tried to ring MJ again "Come on MJ, pick up !!"
But it went straight to voicemail. "Hey, it's MJ! You can leave a message, but why would you?? If it's important, just, you know... text"
"Dammit !! Please be ok"
He swung as fast as he could, finally making it to his house and rushing to the door.
Barging inside, he frantically looked for her. "MJ ??!! Where's..."
He then saw her... and you at the dining table... what were you planning.
"Y/n..."
"Pete, You look tense" You were disturbingly calm, the nerves striking Peter.
"Coffee ??" The tendrils wreathed from your back, reaching the coffee mug and pouring it into the mug, MJ gave Peter a Do what they say look.
"We need to talk" Peter tried to maintain his composure.
"You must get tired of making the world a better place. Every. Single. Day" You interrupted as you stood up. Going over to the counter and picking up a photo of Peter and Aunt May. "But I can help, All you have to do is let me" You turned to him.
"This isn't you..." MJ shook her head.
"Wrong" You turned to her. "This is the real me" You froze for a bit before going back to the conversation at hand. "I finally have the power to realise our vision... Are you... Giving up on me ??"
"Y/n... We need to get that thing off you."
Tendrils emerged from your arm, smashing the dining table, frightening MJ as she moved away.
"Do not... Call us... A thing..."
"Y/n...
"We are not y/n"
The symbiote gradually began to consume you, Spreading all over your body, making you taller and muscular. Bringing back the hulking monster that Peter faced earlier... seeing you lose yourself.
"We..." Your voice began to change "Are..." Then... the transformation was complete. "Venom"
They were mortified by what you had become, But they didn't have time to think as you tried to attack Peter, MJ then protected him as they were both pushed into the kitchen, with the fridge falling on Peter as Venom began to drag MJ away. The tendril were consuming her as Venom planted a Symbiote in her.
Peter frantically got the fridge off of him, Rushing over to find MJ now consumed by the symbiote. Peter grew angry seeing this, what you turned her into. "Let her go !!"
But then MJ's symbiote gripped him and tossed him outside, causing everyone to flee in panic about what was happening. Venom soon went outside and saw the two about to fight "Show him what he's missing" Venom then leaped from the house, Beginning his plan.
Peter soon managed to help MJ fight off her symbiote "Am I... I'm OK!!" "You did it !!" The two shared an embrace before MJ realised she had one final task to do, Picking up the phone, she rang a certain someone. "WATSON !!! Where are you with my apple fritters !!! I'm starving and.."
"Jonah... Kiss my ass, I quit !!!"
"WATSO.." She hung up as soon as he could go into a rant.
The two shared a tender moment together before then having to begin to stop you from enacting your plan to 'heal the world' Peter didn't want to lose you too...
Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board
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andydrysdalerogers · 5 months
Text
Yours Submissively ~ Commitment
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Steve Rogers X OFC Isabella Davis
Summary: Five Years after the events of Civil War, Steve Rogers has moved on from avenging and has started his own business, Grant Inc. He has a secret that would turn his world upside down. And he's good at keep that secret. Until he meets the woman with violet eyes that could bring him to his knees. Now his mission is to make her, his. But she is the key that could bring the world into balance... or chaos.
And she has no idea.
Series Warnings: slow burn at the beginning, smut, angst, sexual themes of BDSM, dom/sub dynamics, kidnapping, loss of virginity, (and a bunch of others that will come up)
A/N: the taglist is open!
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Banners by me!
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated
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Previous: Preparations
Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist
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Belle was nervous.  
Why wouldn’t she be? 
Here she was, back at the same club that set off a chain of events three months ago that changed her life.  Why on earth did she let MJ and Hope convince everyone else that this was good idea? 
She sat nervously in the booth, glass of champagne in hand, wearing a ridiculous crown and sash while the rest of her party was dancing.  She looked at her phone and sent a message 
B: Why did you let them do this to me.   S: not having fun?  B: not really  B: no strippers right?  S: I asked them not to sweet pea  B: I wish I was home with you  S: Me too  B: less than two weeks  S: And you’ll be mine  B: I’m already yours  S: But I get to tell the whole world  B: I love you  S: I love you.  Try and have fun 
Belle sighed and put her phone down.  She decided to go to the bar to get a drink away from her group.  She just needed a moment to herself.  As she waited, a body stood next to her to order.  “Gorgeous?” 
She turned to look at the man who spoke.  She squeaked in surprise. “Paul?” 
“It is you! Wow!” Paul Diskant stood next to her like a dream.  She swallowed when he took her in and zeroed in on her hand.  “This explains a lot,” as he took her hand, her ring sparkling.  
“It’s not… that didn’t happen until after,” she tried to explain, pulling her hand away.  
“No need to explain Belle.  I read the papers.”  Paul took a swallow of his beer.  
“Oh.” Belle chewed her lip.  “I’m sorry.  About that night.”  
“What’s to be sorry for.  You danced with me, and I made a move, you ran away.  Obviously, there was something else going on.  Why did you run?” 
“Because he was there that night.  Told him to fuck off but instead he proposed.” She looked at Paul with a shrug and a smile.  “I love him.”  
Paul smiled.  “That much I gathered.  So why are you out?” 
“Bachelorette party.  It was a surprise.” She frowned.  “I thought you were back in Los Angeles?” 
“I got the job in New York.  I actually work for your husband’s security team but it’s my night off, so I came out with some of the guys I met.”  He nodded towards a group of men who were hitting on some other woman.  
“Ah, well, I’ll let you get back to them.  It was nice to see you again Paul.”  
“The same Belle.  You’re still as gorgeous as I remember.  Rogers is a very lucky man.”  He gave her a kiss on her knuckles and walked away. Belle returned to her table just as shots were being served. 
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The next morning, Belle woke up with her head pounding, Steve flat out next to her.  She sighed when she took in his boyish looks as he slept.  She got up and headed to the bathroom and then the kitchen to start a pot of coffee for herself and Steve and Bucky.  She was scrolling through her social media, sipping her coffee when she sputtered.  
Clear as day was a photo of herself and Paul at the club last night.  “Oh shit.” She read the highlights of the article.  That she was there for her bachelorette and that a handsome man made a pass.  No idea how the couple left it.  
“Well, that’s interesting,” a voice behind her said.  
Belle jumped and dropped her mug which Steve swiftly caught. “Oh my god, Steve, I can explain.”  
Steve gave her an amused smile. “No explanation necessary love.  Breakfast?” 
Belle eyed him.  “Why are you so calm?  Last time I was out, you wanted to murder him.”  
“Isabella,” Steve sighed, “do you remember what happened when you came home last night?” 
Belle frowned as she tried to remember.  When she couldn’t she looked at Steve who chuckled.  “You were a little more drunk than you think you realized.  I picked you up from the club and you stayed in my lap, making out with me.  As I carried you in, you told me, and I quote, 'I saw Paul and I remembered why I love you so much.  He’s like a hamburger and you’re like steak.' It was amusing.  Especially when you decided to ride me.”  
“I what?” 
“Yeah, see I tried to put you to bed but you attacked me with your beautiful lips and I was putty in your hands.”  
Belle hid her face in her hands.  “Oh god.  Steve, I’m…” 
“Don’t be sorry my love.  It’s my job as your husband to satisfy you in any way that I can.  You needed a release and I’m happy it’s me you decided to do that with.  I love you.”  He leaned over to kiss her softly.  
“I love you,” she replied as soon as he let go of the kiss. “Did you know he’s working for you?” 
“Yes.  Bucky brought me all the profiles and I saw his.  Recognized him from that night.”  He sipped his coffee slowly. 
“And you’re ok?” 
“I am.  Keep your enemies close and all that.” Steve gave Belle a smirk as she frowned.  “Relax love.  He is part of our security detail.  If he was truly a problem, I would terminate him on the spot.” 
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The next 12 days flew by, and Belle found herself at the Plaza hotel with her bridal party preparing for her last night as Belle Davis. The girls lounged around in matching pajamas completing every cliché thing for Belle.  
“Are you nervous?” Pepper asked.  
“About being in front of two hundred people of which I don’t know about 90 percent of them, or getting married?  Because the answer is yes.” 
“You don’t want to marry Steve?” MJ asked shocked.  
“No, it’s not that.  It’s just… I don’t know how my dad would feel about this or how my other parents…” Belle took a big gulp of her drink.  “I just wish I knew how he felt about me marrying his hero.”  
“He’d be proud,” Nat quipped. Belle looked at the red head.  “Belle, after everything you’ve been through and finding love in this crazy city, he would be proud. At least, that’s what I think.  But knowing you, the way you handle yourself with Steve and Bucky for that matter, you can take on the world.”  
“And,” Pepper started, “being the wife of a mogul is hard but I will be there for you every step of the way.”  
“Plus, you have your best friends,” MJ said, “to help when we can.”  
“Thank you, ladies,” Belle said as she brushed away a tear. They broke for bed and Belle laid down, knowing she needed rest.  But, when you have become accustomed to sleeping next to someone, it takes a while.  She pulled out her phone 
B: Hi  S: you ok?  B: who ever came up with the tradition to separate the bride and groom should be shot.  S: you can’t sleep either  B: Nope.  I’m cold.   S: And I’m too warm.   S: A sign that we are meant to be  B: You ready?  S: I’ve been ready. I love you  B: I love you.  
It’s what she needed.  Reassurance that he was on the same page as herself.  She looked at the photo of her father that she brought with her.  “I miss you daddy.”  
Morning came and with a flurry of activity.  The wedding was scheduled for two in the afternoon, but it didn’t stop Belle from being busy as soon as she woke.  
Steve sat in his office, reading emails and getting updates on the church and the venue.  Bucky came in with a glass.  “Here punk.”  
“Thanks Jerk,” he mumbled taking the glass but not looking away.  
“Steve. Steve!” He finally looked up.  “What are you doing?” 
“I’m… I’m… I don’t know.”  Bucky could see if was pale and a little clammy.  
“Ok punk.  Ok,” he came over and sat in front of him.  “What’s going on?” 
“What if I am ruining her life?  What if she dies because she’s my wife?  Phil, would he want me to marry her? I couldn’t save him and now I’m putting his daughter in danger…” 
“Whoa, slow down Steve, take a breath.” Bucky grabbed the glass of water and shoved it into his friend’s hands. “Drink,” he ordered. “Listen, I have a couple of questions.”  Steve nodded.  “Do you love her?” 
“More than anything.”  
“Ok, do you think you have done everything you possibly can to protect her?” 
“I think so.”  
Bucky smiled fondly at his best friend.  “Then Rogers, buck up because you have to get ready to marry the girl of your dreams.”  
Steve looked up at his friend.  “She isn’t Peggy, right? She wouldn’t leave me there like she did, right?” 
And right then, Bucky understood.   
Italy 1944  “Can’t believe we’re doing this,” Steve said straightening his tie.    “You sure you want to punk? Its only been a few weeks.”   “We could die tomorrow Bucky.  I don’t wanna wait anymore.”     Steve arrived at the steps of the chapel.  There was a man waiting there.  “I’m sorry Captain but Agent Carter was called away.  She asked me to give you this.”  And handed him a note.   Sorry Steve, we’ll take care of it soon. P   “Well shit.  Ok, I guess I’ll have to wait.”   And wait he did.  After Bucky fell off the train and was presumed dead, he wasn’t in the mindset to get married. Then after a couple of weeks, he asked again but Peggy said now she wasn’t ready.  What he didn’t know yet was that she had resumed an affair with Daniel Sousa.  Until he walked in on them just before the battle in Austria with HYDRA.  Her kiss before he jumped onto the Valkyrie was a request for forgiveness.  Crashing the Valkyrie felt like the only way out, but he didn’t admit it to anyone.  Except Bucky.  
“No pal.  She’s not her.  Belle loves your punk ass for some reason.  And after everything she has gone through and put up with, I know this to be true.”  
“Thank you, Buck.  Really.”  Steve drained the tumbler of liquor and got up.  “Let’s get ready.”  
St. Agnes Church in Brooklyn was nostalgia for so many reasons.  Its where Sarah Rogers baptized her son and where they attended until the day she died. So, when Steve brought Belle to see if this would work for their wedding, she immediately said yes.  Steve stood in the entry way, greeting guests as they arrived, his groomsmen escorting people to their seats. Steve had chosen not to wear his army uniform, electing a black tux with a gold waist coat and tie.  His groomsmen were in the same except for a dark navy waistcoat and tie.  He just finished shaking hands with the mayor when a familiar face came into view and his mood darkened.  “What are you doing here?” 
“I figured I could apologize and watch.”  Sharon Carter shrugged her shoulder as she stopped with her date.  
“I didn’t invite you.”   
“Oh, I know.  He did.”  She pointed to the man with her. Steve remembered him as an accounting executive.  “Mr. Anderson.”  
“Mr. Rogers, thank you for the invitation.”  
“Of course.  Such a loyal employee, how could I not. You’ve been with me since the beginning, correct?” 
“Yes, sir.”  
“Loyalty is such an amazing quality to have.  I hope that you will continue to be loyal to me and the company.” Steve shook the man’s hand, squeezing subtly.  
“Of course, sir.” Anderson could read the message.  Everyone knew that Sharon had a thing for Steve.  Now he understood he was tricked into bringing her.  Well, nothing was going to interfere with the wedding on his watch.  Not if he wanted to keep his job. “Come along Sharon.”  He pulled the woman away.  
Steve smirked, knowing that Anderson understood the message.  The church was almost full, and a limo pulled up revealing the bridesmaids.  Nat came up to Sam with a kiss before reaching over and adjusted Steve’s tie.  “She’s right behind us so you better get to your place,” she said.  
“Yes ma’am.  How is she?” 
“She’s good.  Ready to be married to your dumb ass.” Nat smirked at him.  “She’s a little nervous but once she sees you, I think that will go away.”  
Steve kissed her cheek.  “Thank you, Nat.” He hugged the other ladies and then escorted Pepper to her seat.  He finally looked around the church. Belle had tried to involve him when she and the wedding planner were looking at designs, but he really had no interest.  But now, he was in awe of his princess.   
The church was filled with white and pink roses, sprays of daisies and hydrangeas in white, soft pink and blue.  The aisles were lined with black lanterns with white lit candles and petals around them. It was classic, elegant but still understated and demur.  It was he and Belle as a couple.  He took his place in the front with the minister and took a deep breath.  The music started, the pianist playing a version of Journey’s “Faithfully”, something both he and Belle found comforting.  He hummed to himself, I’m forever yours, faithfully.  
He watched as the doors opened and the bridal party made their way down the aisle. Sam and Nat, Tony and Hope and finally Bucky and MJ as the best man and maid of honor.  The ladies were also in navy blue gowns but different cuts. The doors closed again and then the music changed and Steve had to smile.  His girl was nothing if not surprising as the soft sounds of Adele’s “make you feel my love” played.  He took a deep breath and waited for the door to open.  He was ready.  
Ready to commit to the love of his life.  
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NEXT
Taglist:
@patzammit
@texmexdarling
@slutforchrisjamalevans
@firephotogrl74
@tinkerbelle67
@before-we-get-started
@bunnyforhim
@alexakeyloveloki
@sunnyhummingbee
@whiskeytangofoxtrot555
@peaceinourtime82
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Text
King of my heart (part 4/finale) | Tom Holland x Reader
Summary: You get the role of MJ for the new Spiderman movie…aka, the classic trope of co-stars falling for each other
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Word count: 1.7k
Note: I am sincerely sorry for the long wait. My interests have moved to other fandoms/characters and this story got pushed to the side... I hope you enjoy the final part! 
p.s. This is the last of Tom Holland you will be reading from me. He is now removed from my ‘people I write for’ list (I don’t write for actors anymore)
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''Cut!'' the director called, his voice echoing on set. ''Everyone take five.''
''Y/N, please, some serious,'' Tom warned with a fake scowl, as if he wasn't the one making a funny face at you and making you laugh for the past seven minutes.
You narrowed your eyes at him and he grinned.
Filming had begun very early for Tom today so you hadn't had the chance to talk about your date yet. He had a lot of scenes that involved stunts and those took a long time to film. You didn't see him until late evening in your only — and very short — scene together.
Tom walked over to his chair and took a sip from the paper cup next to it, filled with what you assumed to be tea. ''Last scene of the day, then we're off.''
You made a cheerful sound and reached for your hot drink too, taking a long sip and using the warmth of the cup to warm up your fingers. If only you could do the same for your legs. You had been standing outside for a little over an hour and your fingers and bare legs were beginning to get cold. That's what happens when you're filming summer scenes at the beginning of October. You wished they would allow sweatpants underneath like they did on the set of Gossip Girl, your legs would be thankful.
''Is that coffee?'' you asked, smelling the distinctive bitterness of coffee coming from Tom's cup.
He hummed, taking another sip. ''Yeah. Tea isn't strong enough to keep me awake right now,'' he explained with a tired chuckle. ''I'm barely standing on my feet.''
Ah, the perks of being an actor.
Tom laughed from the tiredness. ''The second my head touches my pillow, I'm gone to dreamland.''
.
The next day, you knocked on Tom's trailer door. You had gotten a few silly memes while you were in the makeup chair and phones were not allowed on Marvel production sets, so you knew he was there.
''Can we talk?''
Tom nodded, letting you in his trailer. ''Do you want anything? Tea? Coffee?'' He looked at the kitchen area with pulled eyebrows and rubbed the back of his neck. ''I don't really know what else I have in here.''
''I'm good,’’ you said. ‘’If I drink another coffee, I'll have to take a pee break during my next scene. I've already taken too many since we began filming in London, the crew won't be happy with me.''
''It's always the wardrobe's fault.''
You could only agree.
''Blame it on the cold weather and the summer wardrobe my character is in.''
''When I was filming Spiderman: Homecoming, I learned about coffee and peeing the hard way,’’ Tom explained, thinking back to three years ago. ‘’That suit was easy to get in and out of, but it was so damn annoying. The wardrobe assistant never said anything, but I could see in his eyes that she was not happy with me.''
You pulled at the cardigan you had over your shoulders, feeling a chill. ''I know it's only October, but they should bring out the huge puffers. Last night's shoot was brutal. At least I have pants today.''
''Do you want something to warm up?'' Tom offered next, always thoughtful. ''I got a blanket and a jacket if you want.''
''That would be appreciated. I'll take you on the offer.''
You watched as Tom went to the small couch and gave you both options. As tempting as it was to take the jacket — which he wore this morning coming to set and would smell of him —, you took the blanket. You wrapped yourself in it like a cocoon. You probably looked silly, but at least you were warm.
''Does that feel better?''
You nodded. ''I had an amazing time with you the other night. It was nice to experience London from a native citizen's side.''
''I had an amazing night too. My only regret is, I didn't kiss you when I should have.''
You bit back a squeak of surprise, the beating of your heart picking up its pace.
Tom continued. ''When you closed the door and I went back to my room, I got hit with immediate regret. I spent the next hour cogitating and cursing myself for not kissing you.''
''You could do it now? We have…twenty-three minutes before we get called on set.''
A chuckle left Tom’s lips and he gently grabbed your chin, tilting it as he closed the space between your mouths and kissed you.
*
The change of status of your relationship made it to the tabloids shortly after wrapping up Spiderman: Far from home.
You and Tom were having dinner in a pub with some of his best mates when a ‘fan’ took pictures of Tom’s hand behind your back and kissing your cheek. In a matter of seconds, the pictures were all over twitter.
You felt violated.
Although you had chosen a career that put you in the spotlight, you deserved privacy. It was important for you to have control of what you wanted to share or not, but that control had been taken from you by that ‘fan’, turning your and Tom’s every outings into an invasive game of hunters against foxes.
*
Doing promo for the movie was overwhelming, tiring, and sometimes boring, but it was unfortunately part of acting. The last few days, you and Tom have been carried from one interview to another and asked the same questions over and over again.
It was your first time doing a tour to promote a movie you were in and you were exhausted from all the traveling and constant time-zone changes. How do actors do that all the time? Your sleep schedule was all over the place and your face felt like the Sahara desert from the constant exposure to airplane air and wearing a cake-face of makeup for over fourteen hours every day.
Having Tom with you through the whole tour made it all more bearable. He squeezed your hand three times before getting on the red carpet.
A chorus of screams from fans outside the premiere greeted you. You waved to some of them as you were being guided to your first interview.
‘’Y/N, we’re so happy to have you here. The movie is called ‘Far from home’ and a lot of filming happened outside in Europe, how does it feel to be home after being away for a few months?'' she asked, tilting the microphone toward you.
You knew the interviewer meant Los Angeles, but although you owned an apartment here, was it really your home? With all the constant traveling of the past two years, you've been living in hotel rooms and don't really know where home is anymore.
''I’ve been asked variations of this question a lot these past months. I think home is vague and can hold different meanings. Did I miss my family and my best friends while I was away? Yes. Of course. It’s hard to be in a different time-zone from the people who used to be a twenty minutes drive away from you,’’ you explained, remembering the nights you’ve spent curled in your hotel bed in Italy, missing your mom. ‘’But I personally don’t consider home to be a specific place. It’s more of a feeling. I feel at home when I’m with the people I love, wherever I am.’’
You regretted your choice of words immediately, knowing the interviewer would pick up on the ‘people I love’ part and use it to get you to talk about Tom.
His eyes lit up and he quickly took the opportunity. ‘’Do you have a specific person in mind? A certain…co-star, perhaps?’’
‘’Everyone was away from home during filming, whether it was in Atlanta or in Europe, so we were all in the same boat. We’ve spent so much time together that we became a new family. Seeing them today at the premiere makes me feel at home.’’
You mentally patted yourself on the back for this one. It’s not that you didn’t want to talk about Tom — he was your co-star, it was inevitable. You just didn’t want all the questions to be about your and Tom’s relationship. It’s a movie premiere, your first big screen production, not a personal interview on a late night talk-show.
You were moved to the next interviewer and, unfortunately for you, the guy from E!News complimented your dress and how stunning you looked, using the good old flattery method to get you to answer his juicer questions.
‘’It’s Zuhair Murad,’’ you informed him, plugging your dress designer. The shade of maroon matched with Tom’s, but you didn’t mention that part.
‘’Well, it looks stunning on you,’’ the interviewer added. ‘’We’re all excited to see the movie, but a lot of us want to know about the spiderman curse. We know it’s a thing for Spiderman actors falling for their co-star. Will you and Tom be the ones to break the curse?’’
‘’Maybe.’’ You laughed nervously. There was no getting away with this one. ‘’We didn’t mean to fall in love — it just happened —, but when you find love, you take it. You grab it with both hands and you do everything in your power not to let it go.’’ Your eyes searched for Tom, a smile curling on your lips when you saw him talking and laughing with an interviewer.
*
After the premiere, you and Tom went to your apartment, exhausted from the premiere…and a little bit tipsy from the drinks. You got unready, removing all traces to today’s red carpet glam, and slid into bed. While waiting for Tom to join you, you scrolled on your phone, looking at some pictures you took at the premiere and stopped at the one where you and Tom were getting ready in a hotel room. You had rollers in your hair and half of your makeup on, but your lips were on Tom’s cheek a golden glow was coming from the window. 
You smiled at the picture and posted it on Instagram, giving the world the first official selfie of you and Tom since you began dating, with the caption: I once believed love would be burning red, but it’s golden 💛✨
Marvel taglist: @xenasolos @chrizzierbsstuff​ @ayamenimthiriel @alina02 @turtleshavesoulmates @staygoldsquatchling02 @daemonslittlebitch  @wetwilliam02 @haileyismoo @manofworm @rhydianissuperior @supersanelyromantic @nicangel13 @mxxny-lupin   @sweeterheartxamerica @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @arunaposeidondottie @liidiaaag @katsukis1wife   @amithesimpoffandoms   @acornacreacure    @chaotic-fangirl-blog   @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue @youdontneedtoknowthisinformation   @aabananaa @starrrslove   @angeliod @nmedina8611 @1stevelacyfan
All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17   @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron
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18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI
warnings: swearing
AN: it’s my birthday and the last few years have been shit because everyone’s started to forget it, so I’m making sure someone remembers it. Even if they are fictional.
A cold bed woke me up. The sunlight streaming in through the window made sure that I was awake. Groaning, I got up and slipped on the hoodie at the end of the bed. When I bent down to put on my slippers, the length of the hoodie sleeves told me it was Ottos. Smiling to myself, I put on my slippers and shuffled to the bathroom to do my thing. Finally emerging and rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I headed into the kitchen. The first thing I noticed was a note written on the dry erase board hanging on the fridge.
‘Went out for breakfast. If not crepes from La Grande Boucherie, hotcakes from McDonalds. Be back soon. Love you. Happy birthday!’ Smiling to myself, I wandered back to the bedroom to grab my phone. As I turned it on, I headed back to the kitchen and started the coffee. A ping indicated my phone was on.
Norman 🧪: happy birthday
Harry 🎓: happy b-day 🎉
Peter 🕸️: happy birthday (Y/N)! 🎂
Laughing, I responded to each text as they came in. MJ, Gwen, Eddie and May all texted before Otto sent me a text.
Otto 🐙: got the crepes. Headed back now. Coffee ready? Me: coffee is done. Thank u for this. ❤️
Otto 🐙: Don’t thank me yet sweetheart. There’s more up my sleeve. See u when I get home ❤️❤️
I turned on the television while I waited for Otto to come home with our breakfast. I sat at the island and sipped my coffee. The coverage was mainly Spider-Man and the Sandman which got boring fast. When you knew Spider-man, the news often seemed to pale in comparison. I looked up as the door opened and Otto appeared, bag in hand.
“Good morning!” He smiled at me and went to work getting our breakfast served. “They didn’t get their shipment of fresh fruit this morning. So I just got you the chocolate one.” His eyes flickered to the television before settling on me again. “Wonder why.” I laughed and took the plate he offered.
“Doesn’t matter.” I waved a hand and dug in. Otto chuckled as he joined me at the island. “Peter told me about this already. Want to watch something else?” He nodded and changed the channel. We ate in silence before Otto leaned over and kissed me.
“Happy birthday.” He whispered and I smiled at him. I cupped his cheeks and leaned my head against his.
“Otto you didn’t have to do all this.” I said. “My birthday is no big deal.” He put his hands over mine and smiled at me.
“It wasn’t before you met me. Now it is.” He kissed me again and got up. “And I know for a fact Norman might have something up his sleeve for later.” I laughed as I pulled out my phone to see a message from the man in question about going to the mansion later in the day. “Party?”
“Party.” Otto nodded as he pulled out a bag of presents. “Otto you shouldn’t have!” He laughed and waved me off.
“I have something else for later too don’t worry.” He kissed my cheek and handed me the first one. “Happy birthday darling.”
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stackthedeck · 1 year
Note
4 + MJ/Felicia if you're up for it?
first off I'm always up for mjfel so jot that down! Second off, I'm sorry this took so long and thank you to everyone that sent prompts, I promise I'm getting to them!
4. be honest are you crying about the commercial with the kitten in it
Felicia doesn’t technically live at MJ’s place. She technically doesn’t live anywhere, which makes it harder for the cops to track her. But she does spend most of her free time in MJ’s apartment.
It’s late into the night when Felicia pries open the window. She crawls inside, the night leaving a cool kiss across her cheeks as the heat of the apartment rushes to meet her. If she’s lucky, MJ will be sound asleep and Felicia can slip off the catsuit and fall into her bed. Any questions will be left for the morning.
Luck is on her side tonight because MJ is awake in her living room, sitting on the couch and pouting her lip at the criminal that’s just broken and entered.
“Red,” Felicia says, fixing her hair as she stands to her full height beside the window.
“Kitty,” MJ huffs through a barely concealed smile, “honestly, I should just install a cat flap.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Felicia strolls closer, falling onto the couch and settling her legs in MJ’s lap. She reaches for MJ’s face to pull her into a kiss, but her hand hesitates over her cheek.
MJ’s eyes are red and puffy, her cheeks still wet with tears. Mary Jane Watson is unshakable, staring down endless superpowered bullshit without flinching. She is Peter’s rock and she’s quickly becoming Felicia’s too. What could have possibly done this to her?
“Who did this to you?” Felicia wipes her eyes, thumb delicately stroking over her cheek as her other hand clenches into a fist.
“No one,” MJ half laughs, half sniffs, “it’s nothing don’t worry about it.”
Felicia looks MJ up and down for any sign of injury. Finding none, she turns her gaze toward the apartment for any sign of forced entry, besides herself. She pauses on the glowing TV screen showing a commercial for an animal shelter, complete with sad music.
“Red?” Felicia says, a coy smile already spreading across her face.
“Shut up, Hardy,” MJ says, scrambling for the remote. Felicia grabs it first, turning up the volume and the sound of meowing and barking fills the apartment. MJ stubbornly does not make eye contact with the sad animals, but her eyes are already starting to water.
“Are you crying at the commercial?” Felicia laughs but turns off the TV to stop her torment.
“I just feel so bad for all the little kittens,” MJ says, voice only wavering for a moment.
“I know.” Felicia takes her chin in hand so that their eyes meet. “You’ve got a thing for pity cases, Red. That’s why you let Peter stick around.”
MJ snorts then snaps a hand over her mouth to snap a full-blown laugh. Removing her hand, she glares at Felicia with a quivering frown. “That’s not funny.”
“Are you sure you could take care of another pet?” Felicia asks. “You’ve already got a cat and spider to look after.”
MJ rolls her eyes. “That’s an insult to both you and Peter.”
“Not an insult—” Felicia runs her fingers through MJ’s hair, tucking it behind her ear “—I’m simply suggesting that if you get that cat flap put in, it’d be a shame if the wrong stray left through it.”
MJ laughs, finally any trace of sadness leaving her face. “Guess you’re right, kitty.” She leans forward for a quick kiss that has Felicia chasing her lips as she pulls away.
“It’s getting late.” MJ stands, stretching her arms over her head. “I want the details on your heist but over coffee tomorrow, okay?”
Felicia smiles, standing with her to wrap her arms around MJ’s waist, gloved hands brushing over the soft skin beneath her shirt. “The night is still young, red. Where’s that party girl I’ve heard so much about?”
“She turned thirty and is waiting for the weekend.” MJ connects their lips once again, letting Felicia be the one to pull away as her fingers tangle with the white fluff of her catsuit. “Come to bed?”
A couple of nights later, Felicia is crawling through MJ’s window again. The apartment is empty and MJ must already be in bed. As Felicia leans down to take off her boots, she spots a flier for a local animal shelter on the coffee table. Huh.
Felicia peels off the catsuit and pulls on one of MJ’s t-shirts from the floor before falling into bed. MJ rolls over, grabbing Felicia and pulling her closer.
“Hey, kitty,” MJ says through a yawn, eyes still blurry with sleep.
“Go back to sleep, red.” Felicia runs her hands through MJ’s hair, letting her hand rest against the back of her neck.
“Wasn’t asleep,” MJ says, “just waiting for you.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Felicia says, but she can’t deny that the gesture is sweet, making her heart flutter.
“Gotta,” MJ yawns, “it’s hard to sleep without you.”
Felicia frowns as MJ closes her eyes and nods off to sleep. What does she do the nights Felicia doesn’t come to her?
The next morning, Felicia throws MJ’s coat at her after coffee.
“Got any plans today, red?” Felicia asks.
MJ gets smacked in the face with her coat, shoving it away to stare at Felicia with confusion. “Not particularly?”
“Let's go then.”
Felicia has a couple of clothes stashed away in MJ’s closet, but she prefers MJ’s soft t-shirts and hoodies. She’s wearing the shirt she slept in and MJ’s hoodie and her own jeans.
“Is that my Spider-Man shirt?” MJ continues to watch Felicia with confusion but shrugs on her coat anyway. “Wait, that’s Peter’s old hoodie.”
Felicia looks down at herself. Huh, guess it is. “Not going anywhere fancy, but are you coming or not?”
“Yeah, just give me a second.”
While MJ takes their coffee mugs back to the kitchen, Felicia grabs the animal shelter flier off the table, glancing at the address.
“Seriously?” MJ says when they get to the shelter, looking between Felicia and the building with her mouth pressed into a thin line.
“Just to show you that the animals aren’t miserable,” Felicia says, “don’t worry I’m here to keep your pity in check, you’re not going home with anything.”
“Oh my god,” MJ sighs, “I’m never going to live that down.”
“Nope,” Felicia says, “always knew you were secretly soft.”
“I’m not soft,” MJ huffs, marching into the shelter.
The woman at the front desk asks them what kind of animal they’re looking for today and MJ looks directly at Felicia when she says, “cats.” They’re led into a room with a dozen cats that don’t look nearly as miserable as the commercial lets on.
MJ tries to keep her expression tightly neutral, looking over the room with a determination not to get attached. She holds out for an impressive second until a black kitten rubs against her leg. She falls to the ground, practically cooing as she scoops the kitten into her arms. Felicia kneels next to her with a smirk.
“She’s so cute,” MJ says tightly, petting the cat as if it’ll break in her hands.
“Adorable,” Felicia says, scratching the top of the kitten’s head, but looking at MJ.
“We could name her Felicia,” MJ says, finally smiling at the kitten, no doubt already planning what toys to get her.
Felicia laughs, shaking her head. “You know I wasn’t bitten by a radioactive cat, right?”
“Obviously.” MJ rolls her eyes with a smirk. “You were bitten by a radioactive Eartha Kitt.”
Felicia gasps, lightly smacking MJ’s shoulder. “I like to think I’m closer to a Zoë Kravitz type.”
Eventually, the black kitten wanders off and Felicia and MJ do their best to meet the other cats. MJ takes to them all instantly and Felicia has to admit that she likes them, if only because of the way MJ’s face lights up with each of them. Not because their meows are so soft and quiet when she pets them.
After a while, a shelter employee comes back into the room. “Have you two made a decision, do we want to take one home today?”
MJ looks over the room, biting her lip. “Can’t we take them all?” She asks, only half joking.
“I’m afraid not,” the shelter employee laughs, “most of the kittens are spoken for. It’s pretty easy to get them adopted but some of the older ones have been here for years.”
MJ puts down the kitten she was holding and scans the room one more time. “How long has that one been here?”
Peter is still friends with MJ after the breakup. They always stay friends after the breakups and that’s half the reason they end up back together. Peter’s out of web fluid, it’s below freezing outside, and he does not want to ride the subway in his suit again. So he’s climbing through MJ’s window, hoping to crash on her couch for the night.
As soon as Peter has one leg inside, MJ instantly yells at him. “Close the window!”
Peter hurries inside, slamming the window shut just before a cat can escape through it.
“What?” Peter says. He stares at the mangy creature pawing at the window mournfully. It’s a scruffy orange cat, with almost more scars than fur and a chunk of his ear missing.
MJ walks over, scooping the cat up in arms, scratching him under the chin. “He likes to roam.”
“Since when do you have a cat?” Peter asks.
“About a week now,” Felicia says, watching them from the couch, “he’s a rescue. Red has a thing for lost causes.”
“That’s a dig at both of us,” Peter huffs. He rolls his eyes and then remembers he’s still wearing the mask. He takes it off and rolls his eyes again. Felicia just snorts.
“He used to be a feral tomcat,” MJ says.
“He was a real nuisance at the shelter,” Felicia says, “even after he was neutered, he kept harassing the other cats and a couple of the workers.”
“He’s just affectionate,” MJ says, the cat rubbing his head against her shoulder and purring to prove her point.
“Huh,” Peter says, unsure how he’s supposed to respond to that, “um, what’s his name?”
A coy smile spreads across Felicia’s face and Peter knows that he’s going to hate the answer. “Peter,” she says.
“Seriously?” Peter glares at the cat but it just purrs harder and cuddles closer to MJ.
“No, well yeah,” MJ says with a smile that almost looks embarrassed, “we call him tiger.”
“I call him spider,” Felicia says.
“So you two think I’m a feral tomcat?” Peter huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.
“No,” MJ says, barely holding back a chuckle as she puts a hand on his shoulder sympathetically.
“Yes,” Felicia deadpans, “but if it makes you feel any better, I had to talk her out of this old black and white one.”
“We could have named her Felicia,” MJ says, “she looked just like the one in the commercial.”
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firstelevens · 1 year
Note
Sambucol, 50
50. all the rumors are true
“A gossip hotline,” MJ repeats flatly.
Betty nods. “I thought it was just a weird residual page for news tips, but I logged into the address and it’s all just gossip and rumors.”
“Does Excelsior have a page six that I don’t know about? Are we on Gossip Girl right now?”
Ned has the account access history open on his computer—something he definitely should not be able to do, but which MJ will be turning a blind eye to for the time being. “Only one teacher has ever even accessed this account: Mr. Harrington, on the day it was created. After that, it looks like it’s just the journalism kids from last year, but even that stops in December. Whatever they were gonna do with it, I think they just forgot about it.”
“But people are still submitting?”
He points to the little counter on the inbox tab. “Two tips just came in this morning.”
So they stick the younger newspaper staff on writing puff pieces and taking pictures and decide to spend the period just sorting through the tips in the inbox, on the off chance that there’s a story worth breaking open. Ned collates everything into a spreadsheet, and they filter out all the spam—there are so many links to mixtapes—and libel risks and a bunch of gross stuff that makes MJ want to pitch a schoolwide lecture series on sex positivity, and then they divide what’s left between the four of them.
It’s a pity that last year’s newspaper team abandoned the inbox when they did, actually.
Between MJ and Peter, they trace a bunch of tips that would have broken the cheating scandal at Atlas Academy two months before anyone else reported on it. Ned finds a bunch of messages that sound like someone who watched too much Breaking Bad spinning out theories about a vague chemical smell in the biology hallway, except that they all showed up a week before the fumes from improperly stored chemicals in the labs almost started a fire.
Betty even finds a few leads about stories that don’t seem to have been broken anywhere yet, and once they’re corroborated a few times, MJ throws them onto the whiteboard so they can assign them to the rest of the crew for investigation.
It would almost feel like a real newsroom, except—
Well.
Once they’ve filtered out the libel, and the slutshaming, and the contextless passive aggressive digs sent in because of interpersonal drama, they only have two things left: hints that might lead to actual stories around the school and gossip about teachers.
At first, MJ is worried that they’ll find something that she won’t know how to deal with, but half an hour into digging through the messages about school staff, it becomes clear that this is just where the student body goes to marvel over the fact that their teachers have lives outside their jobs.
‘Pretty sure Mr. Murdock is some kind of secret ninja,’ writes one student. ‘He caught Mr. Nelson’s coffee mug as soon as it got knocked off the desk and NONE OF IT SPILLED. No guidance counselor has reflexes that fast.’
‘Saw Mr. Rogers (AP gov teacher not the PBS guy) lift a whole ass couch in the teachers lounge. What the fuck,’ says another, not explaining what they were doing in the teachers lounge in the first place.
Some of them are too out there to be true: ‘Dr. Strange came into my coffee shop on Saturday with this lady and he smiled when he ordered his drink????? he’s been bodysnatched. Source: three years of class with this fuckin guy where he never cracked so much as a smirk.’
Others make so much sense that MJ’s not sure why they didn’t clock them before: ‘ran into Coach Barton straight up LARPing in the park. he had his face painted blue.’
And then there are the submissions that form such a strong pattern, anyone with half a brain would dig further to find the truth.
‘Worked a wedding this weekend,’ says a tip from last October, ‘and Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barnes were there together!!! TELL ME YOU TAKE RANDOM COWORKERS TO WEDDINGS WITH YOU.’
From December: ‘Mr. Wilson brought his nephews to the winter street fair and I heard them in the hot chocolate line asking him when someone called Uncle Bucky would get there. then Mr. Barnes showed up so I got distracted. WHOS BUCKY THOUGH? IS MR. WILSON MARRIED????’
From February 14th: ‘had Mr. Barnes for first period geography today and he was running late so we had to wait for him to unlock the door. he turned on the lights and there were flowers on every flat surface except our desks. this is not single dude behavior.’
There are two from the same night at the end of February. ‘JUST SHOWED MR BARNES AND A PRETTY LADY TO A TABLE FOR TWO. THERE ARE CANDLES. I CAN’T BELIEVE HES CHEATING ON MR WILSON RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY TABLESIDE CAESAR SALAD,’ says the first. 
The second is timestamped ten minutes later: ‘oh lmao nvm thats his sister.’
March 11th brings multiple Mr. Wilson sightings at the farmer’s market where the theater program was running its bake sale, and the general consensus is best boiled down by the shortest message of them all: ‘Mr Wilson trying to be slick and buying organic marmalade in a Rutgers sweatshirt when we all know he went to LSU.’
The tips continue into April (the umpire at Mr. Wilson’s nephew’s baseball game says they looked really cozy) and May (somebody accidentally sits behind the two of them at a movie and just leaves before it gets awkward) and into the summer, too. Someone is convinced they saw Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barnes together at the art museum downtown, another person insists they were grocery shopping together on a Saturday morning, another person sees them trying on tuxes together and definitively declares that they’re getting married. MJ is starting to understand why this inbox may have been abandoned.
When they make it to the end of the spreadsheet, she looks up at Ned and Betty and Peter.
“Do we…do we do something about this?” asks Peter.
“Yeah,” says MJ. “We shut down the email and the submission box as soon as possible, and we get rid of all this stuff. If anyone’s got more tips for us, they can send it through the normal tip line. That’s what it’s there for.”
“On it,” says Ned, already tapping away at his keyboard.
“And what do we do about all this?” asks Betty, gesturing to the spreadsheets and, MJ knows, the messages about Mr. Wilson and Mr. Barnes.
“People see what they want to see,” MJ says with a shrug. “We’d know if it was something we needed to know, and we don’t have the column space to devote to pointless gossip. Ink is expensive.”
Betty doesn’t argue, and MJ turns to the next thing on her editor-in-chief agenda for the day.
That afternoon, she walks home from the bus stop and checks the mailbox before heading up her driveway. Lifting a hand, she waves at the neighbors as they’re getting out of their car, laden with groceries.
“Hi, Mr. Wilson,” she calls out across the lawn. “Hi, Mr. Barnes.”
They both shift their overstuffed grocery bags to wave back, and then Mr. Barnes gets lightly bonked in the nose with a baguette that’s sticking out of the top, and Mr. Wilson is too busy laughing at him to do anything else. 
MJ thinks they might not have even realized that she’s already headed inside, except that she’s just turning to close her front door when she sees Mr. Wilson glance around furtively, shrug his shoulders at the lack of passersby, and then kiss Mr. Barnes’s nose.
She shuts the door, shaking her head, and hopes that tomorrow there’s something better in the anonymous tip box than a romance that literally anybody could see from a hundred paces.
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starkerscoop · 1 year
Text
Vacant Mind (Ch. 11)
Ch. 10
also on ao3
-
“...and then we kissed!” Peter gushed, nearly bouncing off his couch—the very same one he’d kissed Tony on the prior night. “It was the most perfect thing ever. I can die happy now.”
Ned shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you got to kiss Tony Stark. What even is your life?”
“It’s not that big of a deal, Ned.” MJ cut in. “He’s a regular person.” 
At Peter and Ned’s disgruntled faces, she begrudgingly admitted, “I’m happy for you, Peter. I was starting to think you were going to go in circles for the rest of your life.” 
“It would’ve happened eventually,” Peter protested. 
Ned and MJ looked dubious. Peter rolled his eyes and tried to think of a way to redirect the conversation. He was beaten to the punch before he could come up with anything good. 
“Was he a better kisser than Danny?” Ned asked curiously. 
Peter’s mind screeched to a halt. “Danny?” 
“You know,” Ned continued, confused. “The guy who kissed you a couple weeks ago? When Gwen was in town and got you to go clubbing.”
Peter shook his head. “I never went clubbing with Gwen. Isn’t she still in Germany?” 
“Peter,” MJ said slowly. “You went clubbing with Gwen and almost went home with a guy. You told us about it in painful detail. How do you not remember?” 
Fear gripped Peter’s heart. He’d only gone clubbing a couple of times and never of his own volition. If what MJ was saying was true, that wasn’t an occurrence he’d forget easily. Could his memory loss be impacting him deeper than he thought? 
“I remember now.” Peter laughed faintly, concealing his distress to the best of his ability. “Tony’s the better kisser, duh.”
His friends didn’t seem convinced of the former statement, but they let his suspicious behavior slide. 
“Of course he is.” Ned nodded, not seeming surprised. “He’s got loads of experience.” 
Peter winced, caught between unwarranted jealousy and desire. “Trust me, I know.” 
The trio only had time to chat for another ten minutes before they had to hang up and return to their respective lives. Once the call was over, Peter scrolled to another contact, his thumb hovering over it hesitantly. 
He didn’t want to worry anyone, but he and Tony had promised to communicate better. Peter didn’t want to dishonor that one day into their relationship. 
Peter bit at his lower lip anxiously and pressed the dial button. His phone call was answered on the third ring, despite the hustle and bustle Peter could hear from Tony’s end. He must be at the office. 
“Hey, pudding cup,” Tony said cheerfully. “How’s your morning?” 
Peter couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on his face. “It’s good. Are you at work? Isn’t it a Saturday?” 
“It is.” Tony sighed. “I had to come in for a meeting. They said it was urgent, but from what I’ve seen this could’ve been an email instead. I’d rather be with you.” 
A red tint spread across the expanse of Peter’s cheeks. “I could go to the tower? I’ll grab coffee and sandwiches along the way.” 
Tony groaned in delight. “You’re the best, babycakes. This meeting should be over by the time you get here, and if not, I’ll end it myself. I should head back in before they complain. I’ll see you soon.” 
“See you,” Peter promised.
He could hardly contain his excitement as he got ready and made his way to his favorite bodega in New York. His happiness was palpable and easily noticed by Delmar. 
“Is something wrong with you?” Delmar eyed him in concern, taking note of Peter’s unnaturally wide smile. It almost looked deranged.
Peter’s eyebrows furrowed. “No? I’m just happy.” 
“So that’s what it is.” Delmar hummed. “I haven’t seen you like that in a while. It’s refreshing, but scary. Keep it that way.” 
Peter wasn’t sure how to take that, so he thanked Delmar and made his way to Murph as he waited for his sandwiches. Cats were so much simpler to understand. He knelt down to where Murph was grooming himself.
“Hi, Murph,” he crooned. “You look so handsome today.” 
Murph peered up at him. He stalked closer to Peter and rubbed himself along Peter’s side, purring. Peter laughed brightly and scratched behind the cat’s velvety ears. Murph indulged him for another minute before he returned to his perch and resumed grooming himself. 
Peter stood up from his crouch and approached Delmar, who was waving a bag of sandwiches at him. Peter took the bag and thanked him profusely, leaving a tip in his jar and skipping out of the bodega. 
He got coffee closer to the tower. There was a Starbucks a block away, and blessedly, there were only two people in front of him when he got in line. He ordered Tony an Americano and himself a caramel frappuccino, already knowing he’d get teased for it. His drinks were given to him with a charming “Peetr” scrawled across the cups. 
He immediately snapped a picture and sent it to Tony. A response came before he could put his phone away. 
Tony: You need to legally change your name to Peetr now.
Tony: Never mind, FRIDAY’s got it.
Peter: You’re joking right?
Peter: Tony?????
No response. Peter huffed and stowed his phone in his pocket. He placed the drinks in a carrier and left the Starbucks, coffee held firmly in one hand and sandwiches swinging from the other. The walk to the tower was quick, and soon he was waiting for Tony’s private elevator to take him to the penthouse. 
“FRI, can we go just a teeny bit faster?” Peter pleaded, aiming his puppy eyes at one of her sensors. 
FRIDAY cautioned, “It’s against safety guidelines.” 
Nevertheless, Peter felt the elevator speed up and was brought to the penthouse level faster than he could finish thanking FRIDAY. 
“Boss is waiting for you in the living room,” FRIDAY announced. 
The notice wasn’t necessary, but Peter thanked her anyway. The elevator was stationed at the back of Tony’s rather spacious living room. Due to the nature of the design, Peter was able to spot Tony the moment the elevator doors opened. 
They strode towards each other eagerly. Tony took the coffee and the bag of sandwiches, setting them down on a side table before pulling Peter into himself and greeting him with a kiss. 
Peter pulled away after a moment with an inflamed face. 
“Hi,” he said breathily. 
“Hi,” Tony mimicked. 
They grinned at each other and let go, although Tony didn’t let him stray too far. They settled on Tony’s plush couch, their weight pulling them deeper in. Tony took his first sip of coffee and the stress of his earlier meeting melted from his shoulders. 
“It’s so good,” Tony praised. “I needed this. You’re an angel.” 
Peter waved off the compliment. “I didn’t make it.” 
“But you knew what to order.” Tony reminded him. “Though it seems your decision making skills took a hit when you ordered that cup of syrup.” 
Peter clutched his frappuccino to his chest. “It tastes good! You need to at least try it before you hate on it.” 
“No, all I need is common sense.” 
Peter shoved his shoulder and took his own first sips from his drink. When he pulled away, his cheeks were smudged in whipped cream that must’ve gotten on the lid when the barista made his drink. Before he could wipe it away, Tony leaned towards him and pressed his lips to his skin, drawing the whipped cream into his mouth. 
He moved back into his original position with dark eyes. “You were right.” 
“That doesn’t count,” Peter argued weakly. “Um, we should eat our sandwiches now. Wouldn’t want them to get cold.” 
Tony snickered and passed him his sandwich.
-
Tag List: @starkersomnia @longlivestarker @senor-cummies @consciencecoward @aoifelaufeyson @rebel13lion39 @katzenbaby1 @helaisthequeen @im-a-goner-foryou @hornvey @darker-soft-starker @nerdylocksandthethreebears @canreadbutcannotwrite @carelessannie @mirrorballtingz @briesb1tch @skimparker @idiyeet @blushing-starker-queen @buckettbarnes @thegreenmetblue @staticwhispersinthedark @just-things-things @snowstark        
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kitausuret · 9 months
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🌩️ /☔
🌩️ Share something funny/cracky from your WIP.
I love me some humor!!! This is from the working-titled "Strawberry Fields Forever"...
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But Mary Jane wasn’t looking at him like he was weird, more like she was trying to solve some mystery about him. 
And then she slapped her hands down on the table, nearly upsetting hers and Flash’s coffees, and startling Peter who had been close to dozing off. “I’ve got it. It’s the hair.”
“Wha— what about hair?” Peter sat up and rubbed his face. “Oh God, is Medusa back? I can’t deal with another Inhumans internal affairs thing—”
“No, Peter, I’m talking about Flash.” 
He frowned and ran his fingers through his hair. It was a little finer these days, not quite as full or long as he would maybe like, but… “I showered this morning, MJ; even combed it.” Flash hoped the smile he offered as he took another sip of his coffee exuded some confidence he didn’t quite have back yet.
“I’m not talking about that, I’m saying it’s blond. It’s really blond.”
Peter looked to her, then to Flash. “He’s always been blond—”
-----
☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?
Ahhh this one again. Probably the one that I started but don't know how to continue/make coherent where the symbiot3 gets together earlier on (like, MUCH earlier on, like literally it canon divergent after ASM #300) but it also gets into some like, weird secret identity stuff that I'm still trying to figure out how I would want to approach it. It's Complicated™. But like, Eddie recently divorced and Flash semi-recently broken up with Sha Shan and in relationship limbo/hell with Betty and etc etc I just think it would be fun.
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little situation | part 24.
Summary: For years, HYDRA had been trying to use the samples of Steve’s DNA to make another super-soldier. They finally succeed and when S.H.I.E.L.D. breaks her out, Cap is forced to come face to face with his kid and figure out parenting on an Avengers’ lifestyle.
Warnings: maybe potential childhood trauma but nothing really
Pairing: Steve Rogers x blackdaughter!reader, avengers x child!reader, peter parker x black!reader
Word Count: 3.7k
Previous Part | (Series Masterlist) 
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You ate breakfast in the common room dining area because it was one of the few occasions the entire team was up early on a weekday before you had to leave for school. Pepper came strolling in, already in her business attire, typing something away on her phone.
“We did it, Avengers Tower has been sold. I’m enlisting all of you to help with moving, no complaints.”
“You sold the Tower, Uncle Tony?”
“Ever since we started phasing all of the New York S.H.I.E.L.D. branch into the compound, I just don’t see a reason for us to have both. Keep everything in a central location. How much was it bought for Pep?” Tony moved to the toaster to wait for his breakfast.
“More than necessary.”
“Capsicle, ever heard of a trust fund? Sarah got one?”
“No.”
Tony caught the toast as it popped out of the toaster.
“Ms. Potts, set up a trust for Baby Wilson-Rogers… Split it, half to the Spiderling.” Tony aggressively took a bite out of the toast and walked out of the common room and towards his lab. Nat poured herself a cup of coffee.
“Well, now we know why he’s never having children. He already has two.”
“Wait, does this mean I’m a millionaire?” you asked with clearly too much excitement.
“Technically, multi,” Pepper said. “And technically, not till you graduate. Finish eating, Happy’s downstairs already.”
You finished and went to the car. Happy laughed as you tried to convince him to let you drive to school— not succeeding. When you jumped out of the car, you saw MJ on the bench reading. She looked up from her book.
“Jared’s going to ask you to the dance before homeroom.”
“Oh, joy.”
“This makes him sad male number five?”
“It’s not sad… and number six. Do you want to go dress shopping after school?”
“Yeah, sure.”
You extended a hand that she reluctantly took and walked with you inside. MJ never walked with you for very long but she was slowly opening up considering this was the first time she stayed holding your hand as you pulled her inside. When you caught up to Peter and Ned alone, Peter was buzzing in anticipation to tell you something. He looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to their conversation.
“I found out their next whereabouts, new buyer named Mac Gargan.”
“Look at you go. So new buyer, what are you going to do now?”
“They meet tomorrow on the Staten Island Ferry. I know we were supposed to go see that improv show but—”
“But you’ve got a job to do. I get it Spider-man, I guess this is payback from when I had to bail on bowling… you know, I’ve never been to Staten Island.”
“It’s… Staten Island. When it’s not a mission, let’s go.”
You and Peter shook on it. Even if you two never ended up going, the thought of it was still nice. You didn’t know what you were going to do over the weekend anymore— Ned’s wasn’t even an option because of a family reunion. Most of the house was going to be on a mission or in Tony’s case various “business trips” for Stark Industries that very closely resembled vacation. Maybe Pepper would want to go with you somewhere but she was overseeing the move.
Your Aunt Laura and Cousin Lila ended up being your substitutes for Saturday morning with Peter when Clint came in to fill out the papers regarding his “probation/house arrest” that he was taking way too seriously as an excuse for a vacation he felt was long overdue. Laura and Lila agreed to go to the nail salon with you. When you guys came back to the compound, you proudly showed off your nails to your family.
“Oh that’s cool, they change color,” Wanda said. “I’ve always wanted to try that.”
You looked at your nails, but didn’t see anything. You were about to ask when Steve entered the room. He didn’t get very far into the common room when you shoved your nails in his face. Steve grabbed your hands.
“They’re very pretty, Babydoll.”
“Wanda says they change color.”
Steve looked at the nails reflecting in the sunlight and started to chuckle before he caught himself.
“They change from purple to blue.”
You looked at your own nails for a moment. It still looked blue and more blue.
“Oh.”
Steve couldn’t stop himself from laughing that time. You didn’t even register the color change and it wouldn’t help this time if he attempted to describe the purple one to you. He couldn’t remember the last time he really helped you with color and shade perception, with you explicitly asking him. Even in the drawings they had hung up in the apartment, you either avoided those two colors if you couldn’t figure it out or just didn’t care.
Sometimes the sky was light purple or Steve’s eyes were periwinkle instead of light blue, other times the purple petals were actually blue. Occasionally Steve would wordlessly rearrange the pastels, crayons, and pencils so you could attempt to see the shades or at least if it seemed more blue or purple. Neither of you acknowledged that he did it but he saw the smile of appreciation every single time. Steve and Wanda left the common room for training or relaxation, and you tried to come up with something else to entertain yourself with.
“FRIDAY, play chess with me, please?” you asked the AI as you set the chess board on the coffee table in the common room.
“Of course, TinkerDarling.”
You looked up at the ceiling, unamused, muttering Uncle Tony. Pietro, who was dangling over the couch while watching TV, laughed.
“Sarah’s fine.”
“Understood, Sarah,” FRIDAY said as a small robotic arm extended from the coffee table to play with you.
You had tried to get the others to play chess but with little success. Steve thought too much about each move, Tony just talked too much, Pietro was too fast, Wanda liked to cheat. Clint refused to learn the rules. Sam and Nat were okay but didn’t enjoy it most of the time and Bruce, who you suspected would be the perfect partner, was still missing in action. Bucky was fine too but he was on a mission and didn’t come back till tonight. And Thor, well aside from also missing with Bruce, you weren’t sure if he even knew or was interested in the Midgardian game.
“Sarah Elise Rogers!” Tony yelled as he entered the common room.
“Uh-oh, government name,” Pietro said as you looked away from the tv to where he walked in.
“Yes, Uncle Tony?” You asked, not looking up from your game as you took FRIDAY’s bishop.
“You know where your little boyfriend is right now?”
That caused you to put your rook in a bad spot, FRIDAY taking it, as you looked up at Tony in confusion. You weren’t sure when you had acquired a boyfriend. And if you magically had a boyfriend you were very curious to learn his name and maybe meet him.
“What?”
“Peter Parker, that name ring a bell?”
“He should be at his house…”
“You know where he was before I took him home, no? Here’s an idea, destroying a ferry! And you knew. You knew that he’s going after whoever the hell and you didn’t tell anyone!”
“He just wanted a chance.”
“Yeah I heard that.”
“I’m on the team, Uncle Tony. Peter can become a ful—”
“Oh we’re changing that.”
Tony threw the briefcase down on the table.
“Parker’s suit is in there and after this stunt you seemed to be accomplice to, yours is gonna be in there as well for the time being.”
“Uncle Tony!”
“No! No, Sarah. This was serious and clearly you two are still immature. Act like a child, get treated like one. You go to school, you go to Peter’s and do homework, you come home, you go to bed. Rinse and repeat until you’re mature enough to think simple things through like telling us what the hell is happening… FRIDAY, where is Captain Rogers?”
“Uncle Tony, wait, please…”
“Captain Rogers is in the gym sparring with Agent Romanoff.”
“Let him know I’m on the way up.”
“Understood, Mr. Stark.”  
“Uncle Tony,” you pleaded again but Tony was walking off.
You sat in the passenger’s seat of the car, arms crossed. Steve pulled into the school parking lot instead of just rolling up to the front. He turned off the car and looked at you. Your head stayed focused straight ahead, watching the students head into the building.
“You haven’t talked to Sam or Bucky, this is the first time since the weekend I’ve seen your hearing aids in, and you refuse to look at me.”
“I’ve got to go. Math test I should study for.”
“You have a 99 in that class.”
“Because I study.”  
You unbuckled your seatbelt and started to get out of the car.
“Sarah.”
You finally turned to Steve, wiping tears. He watched you suck in a breath.
“I get it. I’m off the team, Dheaidí. There’s nothing to discuss anymore, you said it all on Saturday. We were stupid and acted like children.  I would just like to get to class now.”
“Sarah—”
“May I please go to school, Captain?” you asked with an air of desperation.  
Steve faltered and nodded. You pursed your lip in thought for a moment.  
“I’m going to have dinner at Peter’s.”
“I was hoping we could have family dinner.”
“Can we do it tomorrow?”
“I— Sure, Babydoll.”
“Thank you… I promise I’ll be in a better mood when Happy drops me off.”    
Steve watched you swing your backpack over your shoulders and head into the building. He sighed. He was confident in his decision but wished you would have taken it better. He couldn’t even get Sam to play good cop or Nat or Bucky. They all agreed with Tony, leaving Pietro to be the only person in the compound you talked to the whole weekend.
“Sarah!” Ned called out. “Are you okay?”
Peter turned at Ned’s words. You came towards them looking frustrated and upset.  
“They benched me. My dad actually listened to Uncle Tony and benched me. I’m not even allowed in the training room or the lab.”
“Because of me?”
“Don’t sweat it, Peter Parker. I’d do it again for you.” You pecked him on the cheek. “Oh… shouldn’t do that since Liz asked you to homecoming. I’m pretty sure that violates some girl code rule. Catch you two at lunch.”
You ran off, giving both him and Ned one last wave before heading off to your class.
“You’re staring,” Ned said. “I know that look… Sarah? Really, bro?”
Peter shook his head. “What look?”
“The look you had reserved for Liz all of last year… and you’re not denying it.”
“It’s Sarah,” Peter said with a shrug.
“And what does that mean?”
“That you’re not wrong.”
Peter closed his locker door and he and Ned started to walk to class.
“Are you going to tell her? What about the dance and Liz? Are you—”
“I’m still going with Liz, she asked me. That’d be a douche move to bail so close to the dance.”
“Okay and Sarah… Peter, you’re going to tell her right? Holy crap, you’d be the boyfriend of America’s Darling.”
“Me and Sarah, not happening.”
“You’re chickening out?”
“I’m saving a friendship.”    
“Chickening out.”
“Ned, I just got her kicked off the Avengers. I’m sure I’m the last person she’d want to date.”
You entered the robotics class late, handing the teacher a slip. You strolled over to the workstation with Ned and Peter. Dropping your backpack at your feet, you set down your tablet on the table and opened up the coding you had been working on.
“Sorry, I missed lunch. Tina threw up after Lorraine brought the class macarons her mom brought back from a business trip to Paris. Turns out she’s allergic to almonds, who knew?”
“Why does Sarah get to do whatever she wants?” one of the students asked.
“Because Sarah works in Tony Stark’s lab. If she can build an arc reactor, she can build whatever she wants including… what are you working on?”
“A Roomba.”
“A Roomba?”
“Wanted to see if I could do it from complete scratch.”
You finished the code you had and unplugged the Roomba from the cord. Setting it on the floor, you turned it on for a test run. The Roomba rolled around the room while you monitored the tracking and its patterns on the tablet. It returned, deftly hitting the leg of your stool. You leaned over to pick it up when you spotted a letter on it.
“Sarah,” you read out loud, having picked up the note. “Will you go to homecoming with me?”
Peter and Ned’s heads both shot up from their work to look at you.
“Chris Bongiorno,” you finished.
Your eyes met your friends. You looked over to Chris and said sorry, he nodded before you could even finish asking you to save him a dance. The same lie every boy before him came to accept, you might’ve been on a mission. It was stupid, you should’ve just accepted someone asking you since there was no point in waiting anymore. But you also rather go in a group with Ned and MJ instead of someone you barely knew— besides most of them were probably in it for the clout, whoever was the date to America’s Darling would definitely be all over the headlines.
You weren’t expecting Steve outside of Peter’s apartment instead of Happy. You threw your backpack in the back and climbed into the passenger’s seat. The atmosphere in the car was nothing but awkward.
“Did you guys have dessert?”
“No, just dinner.”
“Let’s go out for some, just you and me. What do you want?”
“Cheesecake?”
Steve nodded and started the car. Despite being New York for a while now, you had yet to go to Brooklyn. Steve stopped at the little bakery and asked for a giant slice of cheesecake. You watched from the car window as he ordered, the paper bag that he took out of the car for some reason swinging stiffly at his side. He stepped out of the bakery and nodded his head for you to exit the car. Locking the door, Steve began to walk until you reached an old apartment complex.
“Bought the place back from the Historical Society a year ago. This is where Buck and I used to live, it’s a lot prettier now.”
Steve unlocked the door and you both walked through. He opened the window so you both could get onto the fire escape to sit. Steve opened the box of cheesecake and handed you the other fork. You both ate a few bites in silence.
“Sarah, you understand why I made the decision.”
You nodded.
“I know it feels like the end of the world but I promise you it’s not. This isn’t permanent but it’s necessary.”
“I understand. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you or anyone else on the team. And I’m sorry for giving attitude.”
“A little attitude was expected, you’re a teenager. I think we both forget that sometimes and maybe right now you should be a normal child and I should be just your dad. Not your captain. Just for a little bit, Babydoll.”
You nodded in understanding as you ate the cheesecake off your fork. Steve smiled, the head bobbing was larger than before indicating you weren’t as upset as before.
“I got asked to the homecoming dance,” you offered up information about your day as an olive branch of sorts— to show Steve you could accept him being only your dad for a little while.
“Really? That’s great… you don’t seem too excited.”
“It’s about the twelfth boy not that special.”
“Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this?”
“Because I may or may not have been lying and saying we had a mission the day of homecoming and I don’t know if I’ll even make it in order to reject them.”
“You told this lie to eleven other boys before this one and he still asked?”
“They keep thinking that if the mission gets cancelled and they ask at the right time, I can say yes.”
“I might be a long time removed from school dances but isn’t this the exact problem girls want? All the guys asking you.”
“But they’re not the boy I wanted to ask me.”
“You want a specific boy to ask you?”
“I’m not talking boys with my dad, anymore.”
Steve grabbed the box of cheesecake, keeping it out of your reach. You struggled to grab it and failed. Sitting back down, you gave Steve a side-eye and sighed. Steve watched you pick at your fingers. Your phone rang and you picked it up, relieved you suddenly had a way out.
“Sarah.”
“Hey, Peter Parker.”
“Put me on speaker and check the time.”
You did as he said. “I’m staring at 11:59.”
“It’s 11:59 and 49 seconds, 50, 51—” the call turned into a FaceTime and you accepted.
“What are you doing?”
He held up five fingers and started to put them down. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”
“Thank you!”
“First one. Okay, I’m going to bed. I’ve got a math test first period. Oh wait, I learned this.”
The phone jostled around as Peter set it up against his wall so you could see him full body and he had both his hands free.
Who is Sarah Wilson-Rogers? A girl that’s really cool, really nice, wicked smart. Best Avenger. Peter Parker’s best friend. And I hope you have the best birthday with only happiness and smiles. You’re my favorite person ever.
“Did I get it all right?” Peter asked.
You laughed and nodded.
Yes. Thank you.
“I have something to teach you.”
You leaned the phone against Steve’s leg. He watched as you seemed super excited and he realized he had been demoted from dad to simply a phone stand for the next couple of minutes.
“My best friend is Peter Parker. He’s a dork but he’s my favorite person…” you looked up at Steve. “My second favorite person. P-E-T-E-R. Peter.”
It was the sign favorite followed by a ‘P’ for Peter. He was one of the few people to get a name sign from you— not even the whole team got one, depending on if you signed with them or not.
“That’s yours now, I’ve dubbed thee Peter Parker with that name sign.”
“I’ll treasure it forever.”
“Dork. This is why I said you’re a dork.”
“Your dork, okay, goodnight. I really should sleep before that test.”
“Goodnight.”
The phone cut off and you remembered Steve was there.
“Can’t believe the kid beat me to my own daughter’s birthday. Happy Birthday, Babydoll.”
He pulled the wrapped present from the bag and handed it to you. Steve had been working on the custom piece for a minute. You unwrapped it to see a Build-A-Bear bunny with a necklace around it. It was a gold necklace with your name on it.
“That’s not it, press the left hand.”
You pressed it and the little recording started to play with Steve’s voice.
“Hi Babydoll, it’s Dheaidí. I’m so proud of what you’ve become and how far you’ve gone. I know life hasn’t been the most fair to you but not once have you let it get you down or given up on your life. You’re my best girl and I love you, okay? One of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”
You pressed it one more time to listen to the message.
“We found some recovered files from the base you and Bucky were at, some with… press the right one,” Steve instructed.
“Hi, Babydoll. It’s mom. Oh, I don’t know if you’ll ever hear this. They might delete this once they’ve found out I recorded it but if you do, know that I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of what I know you’re going to become and how far you’ll go. We don’t have an ideal life but you can’t give up. You find your way out and fight. I love you, and I’ll love you forever.”
You looked at Steve and then back at the stuffed animal. You pressed the right paw two more times, just listening. Steve wiped the tears at your eyes. He gently took the bunny to show you one more thing. He had them place two more recordings in the torso of the bunny.
“We also found vital recordings… I know heartbeats help you fall asleep. These recordings are on a loop and won’t stop until you press them again. Right side is Elise’s, left side is mine.”
Steve pressed one and then the other. The heartbeats differed in pace, Steve’s being slightly faster. You pressed each button to listen to them individually. You launched yourself at your dad for a hug. Steve patted your back.
“Thank you, Dheaidí. For real.”
“Anything for you. I should get you back before it gets any later on a school night.”
You two split the last bite of cheesecake and then headed back to the car. Steve glanced over ever so often during the car ride to see you staring at the stuffed animal before pressing either his or your mother’s message. He didn’t wake you as you pulled into the compound. Steve swung your backpack over his shoulder and lifted you out of the car, hearing the heartbeat of both his and Elise’s recordings playing. He looked at your pillow, spotting the shine of satin, and set you down.
You still didn’t stir, only snuggling more into the stuffed animal so Steve grabbed the large duvet at the end of your bed and placed it over you. Plugging your phone in, he set the alarm for slightly earlier than your usual wake-up time knowing you’d kill him if you didn’t wake up early enough to shower and fix your hair. Steve muttered a goodnight to you, kissing the top of your forehead, before leaving your room and turning off the lights.
(Part 25)...
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SONGBIRD
PART 9
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Taglist
@venomsvl , @diasnohibng , @lu123sworld
@paw-sneeze , @harryownsmysoultpwk @fairyy27 , @gwenstacy-ghostspider , @asoulsreverie
….
Warning for series: fluff, a cute baby, mention of food, mention of sex, implied sex, blood, and injuries, curse words, the use of y/n…, nicknames for the reader: love, bird, songbird, birdie ( probably more), not the best writing and lots of typos !! Lol
Hi all!! I hope you are having a wonderful week! So sorry, this update took so long! Love you!!-K
...
In a groggy voice, Eliza answered the phone.
“ Hello? Y/n, do you know what time it is?”
You didn't answer. You waited until 5:00 am to call Eliza. You could not wait any longer. you whispered into the phone
“Spider-Man! He is in my apartment!
“ what !? Why ?! What the fuck is he doing there?!”
“He knocked on my window last night. He was banged up pretty bad. You know Peter takes photos of him sometimes. Apparently, he helps him with the injuries he can’t fix on his own. Pater wasn’t home. Peter told him his girlfriend lived downstairs from him, and yeah... “
“That’s crazy !”
“ he is in my bed right now.”
“Y/N!”
“Not like that! I stayed in the MJ’s room. He was exhausted, and I wasn’t going to make him leave. He is still here, and I have to go soon. Maisie’s birthday party at school is today. I can’t just wake up our friendly neighbor Spider-Man and kick him out, but I need to get ready. “
“ I don’t know what to tell you… I mean… you could come here. You have some things here still. Just write a note.”
“ Yeah, ok. I will be there at 6. I have to call Pete and let him know. It just feels weird, you know… like I didn’t do anything, but there is another man in my bed. I need to tell him. He is still at May’s, I'm guessing. We are going to dinner there tonight. May insisted on giving Maze a birthday dinner at her place.”
“Ok… I mean, I think it’s ok, but you do you. Also, so cute! May is so sweet. Can I come? I have heard so much about Aunt May. I met her that one time at the hospital.”
“ Yes! I was going to ask you to come. “
“Sweet! I will see you soon.”
As soon as you hung up with Eliza, you called Peter.
“ Hey, it’s Peter. I can’t get to the phone right now. Leave a message.”
“ Hey, love. I just wanted to let you know your friend Spider-Man is in my apartment. He is in my room. I stayed in Maze’s room. I’m going to go to Eliza’s to get ready. Maisie's birthday party at school is today. At 11 am. Just a reminder if you can come! I will call you soon !”
You quickly wrote not and stuck it under your door
Mr.Spider-Man,
I had to leave early this morning. There is a coffee set to brew. If you want some, press the start button. Help yourself to anything to eat. I hope you feel better!
Y/n
You got MJ and headed out to Eliza’s
Peter woke up in your bed. He felt at home. He did this very frequently, but this time his suit was discarded on the floor next to him, and you were not with him. He meant to wake up and head home early. He planned to check on you and carry you back to your bed. He was so exhausted though he must have slept all night. He stood up to find a note up under the door. He read it and smiled. You were indeed the best.
He wrote a thank you note and headed to his apartment via the window.
He went to grab his phone to call you. He saw the message you left. Listening to it, all he could do was smile. He loved how thoughtful you were.
Peter hit redial and waited for you to pick up.
“ Hey, you!”
“ love bug! I heard you had a guest?“,
“ Yes, your friend Spider-Man. He came to visit. He was injured pretty badly. I helped fix him up the best I could. I think you should call and check on him. He stayed in my room, and I slept in Maisie’s. “
“ Thank you for helping him. Sorry I didn’t answer. The phone was dead. I ended up leaving May’s. Ned invited me over. His ex had the kids, so we went to a bar.”
“I’m glad you are making friends with the new guy. It always sucks being the new person at work. “
“ Yeah, he is pretty cool. I invited him and the twins over for Maisie’s Party Saturday. I hope that's ok.”
“ Yes! Of course! I would love to meet them! The question is, will you make it to Maze’s party at school? She asked this morning. I didn’t want to tell her something and..”
“ I wouldn’t miss it. I’m called out of work…. To hungover.” He was not. He just needed more time to recover from last night’s injuries.
“ Peter Parker, you rebel! Do you think you will be ok with the party? Screaming toddlers…”
“ Yeah, I will be. “ he laughed. “I’m going to sleep for a while, birdie. Love you.” And he hung up.
Peter panicked. He said love you. He did love you, but this was not the way he wanted to tell you. He hoped that it didn't scare you that he just casually said it like it was nothing. Now all he could do was wait to see you later today...
Peter just dropped I love you like it was nothing. Three weeks into officially dating, Peter said it first. You were in shock. You definitely loved him as well. You just thought you would be the one to say it first.
“ Eliza... “
“ what? you look like you saw a ghost !”
“ Peter just said love you at the end of our phone call.”
“ Awe!! Sweet. Why do you look like you are going to vomit? You said it yourself you love him too. “
“ I know … it’s just….”
“Stop, y/n. Don’t try to self-sabotage. You love him. You said it before you even went on a date. He basically already lives with you. just trust your heart.”
You had tears in your eyes. Peter was the first person since James that you really cared about.
“ I have to tell him….”
“Yes, you do! But first, we must celebrate little Miss Maisie’s Birthday.”
“ Peter! You made it! “ you smiled as Peter walked into the school's office.
“ Yeah, sorry I was almost late. Something was going on the subway. I ended up getting some shots of Spider-Man.”
“ neither one of you can catch a break, can you?” You sighed as you entered Maisie’s classroom with Peter.
Just then, Maisie came bouncing up, “ My Pete! My Pete !”
Peter picked her up. “Hi, there, baby bird.” Maise giggled and hugged Peter tight.
“Awe, such a cute family. Let me get a quick photo.” Miss Lilly said.
“CHEESE!!” Maise screeched. You and Peter busted out laughing.
“ MJ, you are inside!”
“Oops”
All you could do was laugh more.
Peter had almost forgotten you told Spiderman, not Peter, about the nickname. He had to ask, “MJ? I have to hear you call Maisie that before.”
“Oh! Yeah! Isn’t it cute? Maisie Jane … MJ for short. “
“It was my idea,” Eliza beamed as she entered the classroom with cupcakes
“ Are those Spider-Man and Cinderella cupcakes?” You smiled at your sister
“ that’s what she wanted! You should see the cake for her party Saturday!”
“ You spoil her!” you laughed.
Peter sat MJ down so the class ( mostly the adults) could sing Happy Birthday to her. Maise cheered and clapped as she blew out her candles.
“ did you make a wish, baby?” you smiled as you grabbed peters hand an squeezed .
“ uh-huh!! Piderman.” she said in a serious tone.
You just laughed .“ He is a really busy dude, MJ.”
But Maisie’s wish gave Peter an idea.
...
That night after you return to May’s birthday dinner for Maisie, Peter told you he'd had to do some photo editing. He said he didn't think it would take long and would come down the stairs soon as he was done. He kissed you and was on his way.
Maise was supposed to be in bed already, but she was wired. She had cake at school and at May’s house. You knew you were in for a long night. You set up the doll house that May gave MJ for her birthday and put on a movie in the hopes of MJ entertaining herself just enough where you could grade papers.
Maisie was halfway through Frozen when you got a text from Peter
I pulled some strings... I wish I could be there to see MJ's reaction.
You were so confused until you heard a knock at the window.
“PIDERMAN!!! MAMA!! PIDER PIDER!!” Maise was jumping up and down. You opened the window to find Spiderman with a gift bag.
“ I heard someone had a birthday wish,” Spiderman said as he made his way to sit next to Maisie.
You didn't know what to say.
“ Me! My My Birthday!” Maisie smiled big.
“ Well, Happy Birthday, MJ!”
Maisie gasped “ Pider my name?”
“ Yes, Maise. Spiderman is a friend of Peter. Peter asked him to come to see you for your birthday. Isn't that special?” you finally gathered your thoughts.
“ Wow. My Pete nice. I love my Pete.”
You smiled. “ yeah, he is pretty great. I love him too.”
Peter was smiling up under his mask. It was all he could do not to pick you both up and twirl you around. He was so happy, but that would reveal his identity, and he couldn't do that.
“ Peter is a good guy. He asked me me to work on something really special for you a while back, Maisie. I finally finished it just in time for your birthday. Here you go !” He handed MJ the bag to unwrap. She quickly ripped the tissue paper out and pulled out a spider suit in her size. It was an exact replica of Peter’s actual spider suit. Peter had started making it for her after he found out how much she truly loved Spider-Man. He had even made baby web-shooters that shot out silly string. Maisie would be the coolest two-year-old in New York City.
“ Wow” Maisie’s eyes went wide .
“ Oh my, wow . Thank you Spidey. That must have took a long time . Thank you.” You spoke up. You were in awe. It was beautifully made.
“ Tank you, pider!” Maise leaned over and hugged him.
“ Well, it was Peter’s idea. I just helped him. Now, y/n I made her web shooter as well, but I don’t think she is ready for them. They shoot silly string instead of webs. They are pretty cool.” Peter was super excited about them. He knew Maisie was way too little, but he had the idea, and he had to make them. “ Peter knows how to work them. I showed him. You can give them to her when you think she is ready.”
“ Pider, play dolls?” Maise asked very sweetly.
“ MJ, I’m sure Pider..” you started to say, but we’re quickly cut off.
“ I would love to!” Maisie handed Peter her favorite doll, and the began to play. You watched them and smiled.
“ Y/n, you can go back to your work if you want. Maisie and I are fine, “ Spider-Man spoke up after a few minutes of playing.
“ I’m ok . I really don’t want to miss this. Not every day you see your kid play with their hero.” You smiled.
Peter smiled and went back to playing with Maisie. After about an hour, you noticed Maisie began to yawn.
“ MJ it’s time to go to sleep. Tell Spider-Man thank you, ok?”
MJ started to whine, but Spider-Man spoke up. “MJ, how about we clean up together? Then I need to head out to save the city.”
“ Otay” she squeaky reposed. Before long, she was in bed, and Spider-Man had left. You sat down on the couch, thinking about your day. You were smiling. This was a lot different than a year ago. A year ago today, you were crying as you rocked your one-year-old to sleep. Little did you know the next day, you would meet a man who would change your life forever.
You heard a knock at the door. Being as late as it was, it could only be one person. “Peter, you have a key” you answered the door to find Peter with a large Bouquet covered his face.
“I know, but this was more romantic, “ he blushed.
“ I love you .” You smiled.
Peter leaned in and kissed you. “ I thought I fuck up earlier by saying I love you on the phone. I wanted to take you to dinner, and” you stop him by kissing him again, this time deeper.
“ Peter, you are truly amazing. Thank you. “
“ I love you , songbird . You are the amazing one.” He smiled.
You pulled him inside as you laughed. “ dude, got Spider-Man to hand deliver a spider suit that HE made with baby web-shooters to my Spider-Man-obsessed daughter for her birthday. You are the amazing one.” You beamed He just smiled at you. Then he leaned in an kissed you hard. You made your way to the couch without releasing from each other’s grips. You finally let go for some air.
In between breaths, you tell Peter, “ MJ is sound asleep with white noise and music playing” before you finish the sentence, Peter picks you up and starts to head down the hallway to your room.
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nicos-robin · 7 months
Text
i was tagged in a 20 Questions meme!
sorry for taking so long to respond, i can be kinda lazy sometimes and was waiting to be able to use my laptop <3 but ty for the tag @iam-jacks-redacted-information !!!
let's dive right in!
1 ) How many works do you have on AO3?
28!
2) What’s your total AO3 words count?
120,637 (owo)
3) What fandoms do you write for?
Red vs Blue, Spider-Man, World of Warcraft and SPYXFAMILY are what are listed on my ao3 profile. I've done my most amount of work in the RvB fandom, but i've also written a LOT for The Hunger Games, Torchwood, and (sadly) Harry Potter and Twilight. Just... not on ao3.
4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Next Time Around which is an RvB rewrite w/ Tex surviving outside of the Epsilon memory unit, instead of being erased by Church at the end of s9 (which i still need to rewrite and finish waaah) Closure which.. I genuinely don't remember writing. Scars which I wrote on behalf of someone who wanted more non-sibling Carwash fics a cup of coffee in the morning which I wrote after a desire to see more of Wash's tastes/interests changing after the implementation of the Epsilon AI it's all in your head aka, a cute lil thing I did for fifteen minute ficlets that I need to get back into for SPYXFAMILY and twiyor.
5) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Yes and no. It depends! I am an awkward person so if I know how to reply, I usually will especially if it's something i can answer! However, if it's something where i can't really think of a good response I might just leave it, or come back to it later.
6) What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Uh... i tend to not write angsty endings. I like happy endings, I like knowing that despite everything, happiness can still be found. Like I LOVE angst, but I also like rewarding myself with some happy endings.
but one time I wrote about Cinna's death from THG so.... does that count?
7) What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
I've never finished it, but my intended ending for Next Time Around was to have Tex going to Allison's grave on Earth with Carolina and Wash and laying down Forget-Me-Nots, before going back to live out the rest of her time with the Reds and Blues.
8) Do you get hate on fics?
Never directly, but I also don't really remember a lot of 2015-2018 because of cringe :'). I do think a lot of Peter/gwen fics got indirect hate from peter/mj fans which sucks because Peter has TWO hands!
9) Do you write smut? If so what kind?
I have orphaned most of my smut fics, but yes. I have done some basic ass vanilla guy eats out a girl stuff, but my favorite is the kinky sapphic smut. If you ever stumble upon a Tex/Emily Grey smut fic by an orphaned account, that was me :)
10) Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
No, they're just not for me.
11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?
No but last time I checked in 2021 someone had stolen my fucking background/about section from Tex RP blog and that was a COMMON problem I had in the RvB RP fandom on here. So. much. fucking. theft. of. my. god. damn. about. page.
And I put hours of work into it. Hours. It was detailed, and people just keep fucking stealing it somehow.
12) Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not that I am aware of!
13) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?
errrr...... Trying to rack my brain but coming up with a blank. i've written fics as favors/gifts for people though! Usually a "I have this idea and no idea how to write it help me pls Ange" thing
14) What’s your all-time favourite ship?
Church/Tex. Something about the inherent doomed by the narrative of it all, how no matter how hard Church tries to pull her close she always drifts away from him, the levels of love and trust they have towards one another.... Like they are DOOMED lovers but also they kinda both know that and that's what makes it so difficult.
15) What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
I really really wanna go back and re-do and finish Next Time Around, and after playing NieR Automata that desire is even more present. but also, one piece is my current hyperfixation so I have no idea if I ever will.
16) What are your writing strengths?
oh. oh god. oh. um. hm.
Probably my short, punchy sentences. Where not a whole lot is being said, but the impact is still really strong and the emotions of what I'm trying to impart are impactful.
Also, my inner character monologues. I love that shit. Lemme open up their mind and tell you their entire secrets
17) What are your writing weaknesses?
Combat and physical descriptions B)
Combat is just... Idk. So much going on and it's so hard and you have to be really good about the descriptions and the motions and movements or else it's all a mess. And physical descriptions just... I'm a byproduct of the cringe era so I always worry about how my descriptions will sounds T-T
18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
/shrug
I have never attempted to create my own fictional language, and I probably never will. It just isn't for me. I am planning on trying to pick Japanese back up, as when I was a wee child I knew it fairly well, but lost it as the years went on.
19) First fandom you wrote for?
Shugo Chara! or Sailor Moon
20) Favourite fic you’ve ever written?
Next Time Around is my current magnum opus but it also unfinished and I have no idea when I will pick it back up.
And that's a wrap! Thank you again @iam-jacks-redacted-information for the tag!!! I appreciate it, and i loved reading through your responses! Plus it made me go back through my old ao3 archive and see what I have written which I haven't done in a minute.
Anyways <3 if you wanna play this game please feel free to, and tag me in it! I always feel awkward tagging bc I still don't know a whole lot of people on here anymore QwQ
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