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actress4him · 10 months

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Querencia 12.5 - First Healing

You guys voted, and amazingly enough, I have delivered! This chapter was already floating around in my head, though it’s not technically the “next” chapter of the series like the poll said. This falls right after Shopping Trip and before Just a Cold and the Mind Control trilogy, and is a moment I realized was missing from the story.

Taglist: @darthsutrich , @inky-whump , @painful-pooch , @pigeonwhumps , @bookworm2107

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Contains: lady whump, dude whump, broken ribs, self-deprecating thoughts, references to past homelessness, hidden injuries

Liliana is alone in the warehouse, and it’s…a bit creepy, if she were to be honest. The place is huge, and her footsteps echo everywhere she walks. She’s tempted to hide in her room until the team returns. Then again, something about being shut in a room with no idea what’s going on in the rest of the building is even more disconcerting than being out here in the emptiness.

She should be ready for when they get back, anyway. This is the first time they’ve gotten called out on superhero duties since she’s been staying here, which means that they could very well get hurt and need her to heal them when they get back. Nari has assured her that it doesn’t happen very often. Still, that’s the only reason she’s here, right? If one of them does come back hurt, she should be ready to help right away, not locked away in her room.

So she makes her way to the infirmary, instead. It’s a small room, mainly comprised of a cot in the center, a counter with cabinets above it on one wall, and some shelves on another. They keep it stocked with first aid items, some a bit beyond what’s typical like crutches and slings and forceps.

They don’t really like to go to the hospital, Jamil had explained. None of them have ever had personal encounters with people who hate Nons…Supers…but they’ve heard the tales. They can’t risk being at the mercy of doctors and nurses whose political leanings they don’t know.

Liliana understands that perfectly.

They won’t need all the paraphernalia anymore, though, not with her around. She’s happy that she can take that burden off of them, take away the worry of what if someday we get hurt too badly to treat here. They’ve done so much for the city, after all, and now for her. They deserve to be taken care of.

At the same time, the longer she sits there, kicking her feet and staring at the blank walls, the more nervous she gets. She hasn’t healed that many people. There were a few accidental healings when she was young, but other than the arthritis those were all scrapes and bruises and one common cold. Then came the years at the facility, when she wasn’t allowed to even think about using her power.

While she was on the streets, she’d healed twice - both times with an enormous amount of fear that someone was going to leap out into the open and drag her back to the facility for doing so. The first time was the worst thing she’d ever healed. A lady had gotten mugged in an alleyway, and Liliana had healed where the mugger had hit her over the head with the butt of his gun. The only reason she’d stepped in and shoved her fear aside then was because she was afraid the woman might die otherwise. The headache she’d gotten from that was horrendous and lasted for a few days straight. Not something that she was looking to repeat anytime soon.

The second time she did with slightly less trepidation, since there hadn’t been consequences for the first. That was the man with the broken glass, the time when she’d met Nari and Quinn. The pain from that wasn’t all that bad, just a few stinging cuts. She still has the little white scars on her stomach.

And the only other time she’s healed was Jamil’s broken nose, which had been nerve-racking, too, but she was the one who’d broken it so she had to offer to heal it. That had hurt for days, too, and she kept feeling like she couldn’t breathe.

Today could be her first official healing, though. Her first time really performing her new job.

When she’d agreed to join their team, it had been a spur of the moment decision. A decision she’s second guessed many times, for reasons ranging from I shouldn’t have moved in with a bunch of strangers to they need someone better than me, someone with less problems than me.

Now, in this moment, she’s second guessing her ability to handle the kinds of injuries a team of superheroes might come in with. They could have broken bones. They could get shot, stabbed, burned, impaled, electrocuted…the villains they fight against have all varieties of powers that can do a ton of damage. Can she really heal any and all of that? More importantly, can she do it without letting on that it hurts, for however long it may take for those things to heal?

She doesn’t have a choice. They let her in so that she could heal them. If she can’t do it, then she’ll get kicked out, and she’s not sure she can handle going back to the streets, losing all of this comfort and care that she’s finally starting to get used to. And she can’t let them know that it hurts her, they’ll think she’s too weak and the result would be exactly the same.

It isn’t that they’re mean. They’re the nicest people she’s ever met. But they need someone who can do this job. She has to make sure that’s her, so she won’t lose even more people and yet another place to live.

The wait is excruciating, but eventually she hears the beeping and opening of the front door from just down the hall. Jumping to her feet, she moves to the doorway, wringing her gloved hands as she peers out. One, two, three, four…they’re all on their feet. It doesn’t mean no one is injured at all, but it’s certainly not as bad as it could be.

Quinn’s face brightens when he sees her. “Liliana, hey.” His eyes dart toward the room behind her. “Everything alright?”

She nods, still glancing up and down at what she can see of all of them. “I’m just, just waiting. For, um…for you guys to get back. Just in case.”

“Oh, that’s perfect. We’re mostly in one piece, but Alex did break a rib or two.” He gestures back toward the redhead, who she can see now is pressing one hand to his side.

“Ehh, I think they’re just cracked.” He waves his free hand casually. “Nothing new for me, honestly. I get beat up a lot.” He laughs at his own joke, then winces in clear regret.

Liliana’s eyes widen. Cracked ribs. She can handle that, right? She’s never had injured ribs before, but if Alex can treat it so nonchalantly then maybe she can, too. She definitely doesn’t want him to keep being in pain, it makes her stomach churn watching him react.

“I can, I can help. That’s what, um, what I’m here for, r-right?”

He grins at her and enters the infirmary as she steps back to make room. “I’d really appreciate it, if you think you’re up for it.” Gingerly, he settles on the cot facing her. “I’m used to having to deal with these things for weeks. If you can really make it disappear in an instant…”

“Mhm.” She nods again, still toying with her fingers. She’s just standing there, and he’s sitting, watching her…waiting on her, she realizes. Everyone is waiting on her. The other three are crowded into the room behind her, ready to watch her perform her task.

Right. She can do this. Gloves have to come off…well, maybe just one. One glove off, then she has to…oh, shoot, she has to ask him to…

“Um. I, um…I n-need…” Her face is growing hot. “I-I have to, to…to touch…like, um…s-skin…”

His eyebrows go up in realization. “Oh! Yeah, no problem.” He lifts the bottom hem of his shirt, revealing a cluster of bruises on his right side. “And don’t worry about hurting me, I’m tough.”

Her cheeks are still burning. “It, um, it shouldn’t hurt.”

“It doesn’t!” Jamil pipes in from the doorway. “At least it didn’t for me. Barely felt a thing.”

“Oh right! I forgot you’ve done this before.” Alex leans over slightly to see him. “Is it cool?”

“Definitely. Though I didn’t get to actually, you know…see it. I’m looking forward to it this time.”

The others are agreeing, and Liliana wants to curl up in a hole somewhere and disappear. They’re all acting like this is some huge special thing that she can do, and it’s just…her power. The power that got her kicked out of her family and locked up for three years. Yes, if she has to have a power she’s glad that it’s one that helps people, but it’s not special. It’s not that big of a deal.

“Okay, I’m, I’m gonna…” She motions toward his ribs and steps forward, sliding the glove from her fingers. Her hand is shaking a little.

Ever so gently, she places her fingertips against the bruised skin. Blue light immediately spreads across the area, soaking up the black and purple, seeping down until it reaches the cracked bones and beginning to mend them.

Don’t make a face, don’t make a face, don’t make a face.

The pain of her ribs “cracking” is sharp and immediately invades every breath. Liliana bites down on the inside of her lip to keep from gasping or making any noise.

Cállate, cállate, no hagas ruido, no pueden averiguar.

She glances up at Alex’s face, but his head is tilted down to watch the healing. Good. If she did slip and make any kind of expression, no one would have seen.

The light fades away as the last of the pain transfers, and she lets her hand drop, quickly moving to put her glove back on. “How’s, um…how’s it feel?”

His gaze comes up, and his eyes are wide with amazement. “Wow.” He stretches his arms over his head, bends his torso back and forth. She knows for a fact that those movements would have been very painful a minute ago.

“It feels great! It’s…totally gone, like, not even a trace left.” Looking down and pulling his shirt up again, he runs his fingers over the now unblemished skin. “That’s crazy.”

The others crowd around, Jamil poking at Alex and Nari making teasing comments about how he just can’t keep himself from getting hurt, and Liliana shrinks backwards, out of the way. Sharp pain shoots through her ribs with any little twist of her body. She’s going to have to learn how she can and can’t move, but try her best not to look stiff in the meantime.

A few weeks, he said, right? She can do this. It’ll be fine.

Alex stands and pushes his way past the others, not a difficult feat considering how much space his height and muscles take up. “Seriously, Lil, you’re fantastic.” He chuckles to himself. “Get it? Lil? ‘Cause you’re so…lil? I’m calling you Lil from now on. Anyway, I’d hug you, but you probably don’t want me to and that’s fine, so…fist bump? Can we fist bump it?”

She definitely does not want a hug right now, not with cracked ribs, but…she can handle a fist bump, she thinks. Tentatively, she raises her fist, and Alex gently knocks his knuckles into hers.

“Welcome officially to the team, kid. It’s great to have you here.”

Everyone spills out of the room exclaiming similar messages, making a huge deal out of what she just did and her presence with them. Liliana follows along silently, cheeks flushed again, trying not to let the praise get to her.

She still wishes they wouldn’t make such a big deal out of it. But if her power can make them this happy, then she’s very glad she can share it with them. Even if it ends up hurting much worse in the future.

#querencia #liliana the healer #alex the hero #quinn the leader #jamil the hero #nari the hero #lady whump #lady whumpee #dude whump #broken ribs #self deprecating thoughts #hidden injury #found family #team as family #whump writing #whump series #superheroes #hero whumpee

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hurtthemgently · 2 years

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Small victories

Masterlist

Cw: loss of autonomy, creepy/intimate whumper, whumpee forced to deceive caretaker in future, faerie deal, implied cold whump, whumper controlling what whumpee wears, non con kissing and touching, non con drugging, fear, emotional whump

——

Kimmi awoke to their shoulders being shaken.

“Hey wake up! Something came up that I need to talk to you about.” He sat on the bed, leaning over them.

They pulled the covers away, and gave him a tired glare, through bleary eyes.

“This is urgent. My sister is coming to stay here for a couple weeks. She’ll be here in the morning.”

Their tired anger turned to tired surprise. They’d heard about Mentari, the golden child with beautiful yellow magic. The oldest sibling, the protector.

“What’s this have to do with me?”

“I’m moving you out of the guest room. That, and, I want to make sure of something. Pack up your stuff and go put it in my room, I’ll clean in here.” He pulled the blankets off them and shoved them in a basket.

They shivered, the shorts and blouse not nearly enough to protect from the freezing air inside the house. Just another way of tormenting them. Keeping the house freezing while making them wear minimal clothing. They quickly shifted off the bed, and went to pack up everything.

Ceran put all the blankets and pillow covers in a basket before spraying the room with something they couldn’t smell. He kept cleaning even after they had taken all their stuff out, scrubbing the floor and taking an especially long time working on the drains and mattress.

Anywhere that might collect someone’s scent.

——

Kimmi took their bags to the other room. Ceran’s room. They were grateful that he had gone and picked a bunch of their stuff up from their dormitory, although they disliked the thought of him going through their things. At least they still had their own clothes, even if they could only wear the stuff he got for them.

They stopped in the doorway. They’d read too much fanfiction to not realize the implications.. but him? Their shoulders ticked thinking about being next to him while so vulnerable. Then and there they made up their mind to never read a ‘there was only one bed’ fanfic ever again.

Maybe they could convince him to let them sleep in that big cushy chair in the corner.

——

“Okay, now for the conversation we need to have. You can’t tell Mentari anything about what’s going on.” Ceran pinched the bridge of his nose, sitting on the bed.

“Why not? Isn’t she a vampire too?” They sat in the chair, trying to figure out what he was implying, while faced away from them.

“She has.. ‘different ideas’ on stuff like keeping blood bags… she gets it from our father. Now, I’m going to give you a command not to tell her, but I also want to make sure you agree no to, I don’t want you finding a way around the command.”

“Different ideas?” Maybe she would help them! They couldn’t imagine anyone related to this guy being a good person- but from the way he talked about her…

“She’s a protector… she used to like, put fallen baby birds back into their nests and rescue cats from trees.. regular low grade superhero stuff.”

“Superhero? That’s just.. regular nice person things?”

“She had a costume. And a moniker.” He smiled a bit at the memory, though Kimmi couldn’t see that.

“Oh. So you want me to agree not to say anything?”

He turned around. “I want you to use your vow ability, and promise not to do anything to allow her to find out. I’m willing to make some concessions for this.

“I want you to be willing to follow the order so go ahead. What would it take for you to behave?”

“I- I want you to.. vow not to hurt me the entire time she’s here. I- it’d be more convincing, if I could tell her you promised not to hurt me.”

“Nice argument. Okay, I’ll accept that. Outside of feeding of course. I’ll even promise to make my bite as painless as possible. Anything else?” He could always wait until after she left to dole out any punishment they incurred.

Emboldened, they went on. “I want to wear my own clothes. It’s freezing in this place and the shorts and shirts with wide necklines aren’t helping. At least while she’s here.”

“Fair enough. So these conditions, and you won’t try and find a way to circumvent my commands?”

“I- yeah..” they would always try to get around commands. A simple yes answer was vague enough that it didn’t change that. But also, any leniency was worth it.

They continued, “if you want we can put the deal in writing.. gives both a solid idea of what both of us are agreeing to.” And gives them a reference for how to get around the promise and the commands.

He got them a blank sheet of paper and a pen, and they set upon the task of lining out a faerie deal.

——

Kimmi sat curled up in the chair, trying to go back to sleep. They brushed their fingers over their wrist, hating how foreign it felt to not have the cuffs in place. They shouldn’t be used to being in restraints.

They pulled the blanket tighter when footsteps approached. He was finished with cleaning the house. Maybe they could pretend to already be asleep. The door opened quietly.

“Maybe you’d have an easier time sleeping if you laid on the bed. I don’t think that chair is a great place to sleep.”

Well that failed. “I’m alright over here.”

“What, don’t want to sleep next me?” He leaned against the arm of the chair, pressing his back to their own.

He felt their shoulders jerk, a reaction he’d come to realize was a sort of muscle spasm, something they couldn’t control. They’d said it was often caused by stress. Specifically they’d said physiological stress, like the cold or extreme emotions. He didn’t mind it at all. It was just another way for them to show how his torments got to them.

They tensed, trying to shrink into themself. “I think it would be easier for me to sleep in the chair.”

“Well I think you should sleep on the bed.” He carded fingers through their hair, enjoying how their breath quickened.

He couldn’t hurt them. The worst thing he could do right now is command them, so why were they so scared? They suppressed a sob, thinking of the possibility that vampires were immune to the effects of faerie deals.

Out of nowhere, a weight settled on their lap. He traced a feather light touch at their jawline, now sitting in front of them. Closing their eyes, they turned their head away, tucking their face into the cushion.

“What makes you think you can get away with contradicting me? Is it that deal? Do you think you’re safe just because I can’t hurt you?”

The fact that it worked on him should have been a relief. But they had an awful feeling that he had something worse in mind than just hurting them. The tears were already falling when he tilted their head into a kiss. The venom washed through them, the bitter raspberry taste making them feel sick and useless.

He picked them up and carried them to the bed. They were weeping quietly as he pulled the blankets over their shoulders, making sure to wreath every movement in gentleness. He pressed a kiss to their forehead.

“Okay. I’ll play along, for now.” He switched to the most genuine sounding comforting voice he could manage. “Don’t worry, you’ll be perfectly safe for as long as the deal is in effect. I can’t do anything at all to make you upset, uncomfortable, or afraid.”

He ruffled their hair one more time before he got up and left the room. He heard their quiet sobs even from downstairs.

——

Taglist: @suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpsday @whumpycries @pigeonwhumps @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @sola-whumping @greenwhump

#ceran and his faerie #creepy/intimate whumper #non con touching tw #non con touching and kissing #non con kissing tw #non con drugging #hehehe I really just wanted to make it so that Ceran couldn’t hurt them #just because I knew it’d make him have to be more creative #also kimmi is so cold all the time #it’s why they spend so much time on the couch- because the blankets

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tsuki-chibi · 2 years

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MayBee Queen 2022 Day 16:

Read on AO3 instead

—

“What do you think?” Marinette slid aside the curtain and stepped forward, looking shyly in Chloé’s direction.

“I liked the other one better,” Chloé said after a moment of thought, narrowing her eyes. “But honestly, I think that you can do better than both of them.”

“Really?” Marinette turned towards the mirror, cocking her head. “Well… maybe you’re right. I did like this one, though.”

“So buy it,” Chloé said carelessly, standing up.

“I’d rather wait for the outfit,” Marinette said.

“I never said you only had to get one,” Chloé pointed out. Marinette blinked at that, seemingly stunned for a split second before she shook it off and grinned.

“I should feel terrible about taking advantage of your mom’s credit card,” she said. “But somehow, I don’t.”

“Good. Now get dressed. We’ve got a lot more shops to hit,” Chloé ordered. She eyed the stack of clothing that she had tried on and finally selected two skirts and a top. Marinette came out of the dressing room with the dress she had just been wearing and a cardigan.

Chloé paid for their purchases and then they both headed outside. After dropping their bags off with the car, they headed into another shop. Marinette was all smiles as she headed over to the first rack of clothing. It was nice, Chloé realized, to see Marinette looking happy again. Chloé hadn’t realized until this moment just how tense and serious Marinette had been for the past few weeks.

“What about this one?” Marinette said, holding up a demure blue dress. Chloé eyed it and then scoffed.

“No way. You need something more like this.” She reached past Marinette and grabbed a splashy, chic red sundress that drew all eyes with its fiery color. The ruffled straps at the shoulders, neckline, and bottom of the full skirt kept it from looking too sexy, while the belted waist still allowed for some emphasis of curves.

“Oh,” Marinette said softly, eyes rounding. She reached out and plucked gently at the fabric of the skirt. “It’s – but Chloé, I couldn’t wear this. It’s red, for one thing.”

“So?” Chloé said, genuinely confused as to why that mattered.

Marinette glanced around to make sure no one was in earshot before she whispered, “What if someone sees me in red and puts two and two together and figures out that I’m Ladybug?”

“Firstly, the miraculous magic would probably prevent that from happening. Secondly, that would require someone realizing that Marinette Dupain-Cheng could be Ladybug,” Chloé said. It wasn’t until Marinette’s face fell that Chloé realized how that had sounded, and she winced.

“You’re right –” Marinette started to say, but Chloé shook her head.

“No! That’s not what I meant. I just meant – no one ever thinks that a classmate of theirs could possibly be a superhero,” Chloé said clumsily. “You know? It’s like… look at Adrien. No one would look at him and think he’s Chat Noir, even though he literally skips way more school than you do. Alya’s your best friend and she never figured it out. You had to tell her.”

Marinette was quiet for a few seconds before she slowly nodded. “I guess when you put it that way, you have a point. No one would think that I could be Ladybug.”

Chloé still wasn’t sure that Marinette meant that the way that Chloé had meant it, and she impulsively glanced around for an akuma just in case. No butterflies seemed to be flying around the shop, but she decided that Marinette needed to be cheered up immediately either way. She quickly shoved the red dress into Marinette’s arms and then followed it up with a few more choices.

“Get in there. I wanna see,” Chloé said, shoving Marinette towards the dressing room, and Marinette sighed loudly but went obligingly. She closed the curtain and started undressing. After a little while she started talking.

“I really don’t know, Chloé. This is so different from anything I usually wear. I don’t think – oh.”

“Oh what?” Chloé said.

Marinette pulled the curtain aside. Chloé swallowed a gasp.

The sundress looked fantastic, and Marinette was practically glowing.

Chloé pointed at her. “I don’t care what you say. We are buying that.”

Marinette’s smile stretched from ear-to-ear. “For once, I’m not going to argue with you.”

#miraculous ladybug #chloe bourgeois #marinette dupain-cheng #maybeequeen2022

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universalfanfic · 1 year

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@inkoutsidethelines Here is Mary and Owen's convo about his job as a superhero. I feel like I could've filled out the discussion more... but I want to post it now so.

(Mary belongs to Ink)

Mary snapped back into the present when she realized how quiet it was. She’d been folding some laundry in a daze, but with a three year old and two under two, quiet was never a good sign.

She dropped the towel back in the basket and turned to where the boys had been. Theodore and Bradley had already learned how to help each other out of their playpen, and she was seriously considering adding a screen on top to lock them in.

“Mikey!”

“Yeah, mommy!”

Mary marched down the hall and found all three boys huddled around a few scraps of paper, a leather bound journal, and a scattering of crayons. She rushed forward as Bradley stopped drawing on the paper and looked over at the wall speculatively.

Mary snatched Bradley up and held him on one hip as she put her hand on the other. Bradley laughed at the quick movement and threw his crayon.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Mikey looked down at his crayon and back up at her.

“Coloring.” He held up the paper he scribbled on to show her. “See! I’m showing T-eeo and B-ladley how to draw.”

Mary bit her tongue and fought to keep her stern expression.

“You need to ask first,” she said. “You know Theodore and Bradley aren’t supposed to be out by themselves.”

“Don’t worry, I’m watching them!”

“Mommy or daddy needs to be with them,” she clarified.

With a sigh, she knelt down to start cleaning up the papers. The journal looked like one of Owen’s sketchbooks and she groaned that they’d clearly torn out a few pages. Mikey pointed as she took the paper he’d colored on.

“I made it better,” he said. “I didn’t like that one; it was too scary.”

Mary frowned at that. Owen didn’t draw scary things. Landscapes, portraits, some still life if he was trying to figure out lighting, but nothing a child should find scary.

She looked past the rainbow scribbles to the original sketch. It was done in a heavy, dark ink. Not Owen’s usual style.

The silhouette of a man seemed to be falling down a hole, many grasping hands reached up towards him from the bottom.

It hit her that Mikey had somehow pulled out one of Owen’s private art journals. The ones he didn’t even share with her, though she didn’t know how Mikey found it. Owen was usually careful with where he placed those ones.

Mary stared at the picture another moment then folded it up and shoved it in her pocket.

“You made it very colorful, but we don’t color in daddy’s books, remember? Now let’s clean this up before he gets home.”

Mary kept the picture in her pocket after Owen got home from work, all through dinner, until after they put the kids to bed. They settled on the couch and Mary finally brought it up.

“So,” she said, “the kids got into one of your sketchbooks today.”

Owen let out a half-amused groan as he threw his arm over her shoulder on the back of the couch.

“How much damage did they do?”

Mary licked her lips. “I don’t know. I didn’t look through the rest.”

Owen cracked one eye open to give her a questioning look and Mary reached into her pocket. He accepted the folded paper and his demeanor shifted as he opened it up and saw what was inside.

“I didn’t think you’d appreciate me looking through that one.”

“Right.” Owen’s jaw ticked and he looked away, shoving the paper into his own pocket. “Thank you.”

Mary pressed her lips together and tamped down on her impulsive reaction to his dismissal.

“Is that it?”

“I’ll make sure I put it where they can’t reach it from now on.”

Her frustration spiked and she leaned away from him.

“So am I just supposed to pretend I didn’t see it? Is that what you want me to do? Is that whole sketchbook filled with drawings like that?”

Owen’s eyes sharpened and he pulled his arm back.

“We’re both allowed to have our privacy, Mary.”

“That’s not what that was, and you know it,” she snapped. “That wasn’t just some frustration you were working out on your own. That- that looked like despair.”

Owen blinked rapidly and leaned forward to rub at his forehead.

“It’s nothing. You don’t need to worry about it.”

Mary pressed her lips together again and her tone shifted to something softer.

“That isn’t fair.” Owen didn’t move. “Whenever I was going through- when I was struggling with my Daredevil stuff, you always said you wanted me to open up to you. You wanted to be there for me. And when it was beyond your scope you encouraged me to find someone who would know how to help.”

Owen worked his jaw and ran his hand through his hair in growing agitation. He wouldn’t look directly at her.

“This isn’t the same.” He insisted.

“Something is clearly bothering you, Owen.”

“It’s not the same. You- you went through traumatic events. You held yourself together through things no human should have to go through.”

“It’s not a competition.”

“I have nothing to compete with!” He shot back. “I have loving parents, a family, a good support network, and powers most people wish for. So if I have a bad day, I’m not going to complain about it, okay?”

Mary sat back and rolled her tongue in her mouth. He was deflecting too hard for it to be something as fleeting as a bad day. She ought to know, she’d done it enough to her family, to him, before working through her trauma. He was just as stubborn as she was, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

She let the silence sit long enough for him to calm down, for his words to settle.

“Do you know what one of the first things Brenda taught me was?” She asked.

Owen closed his eyes momentarily and let out a tense breath. He finally made himself look at her.

“No.”

“She taught me when I was upset, but kept it to myself, I’d inevitably end up creating distance between us. You’d feel that distance but wouldn’t know what was causing it. You might assume it was your fault, that you were failing as a husband. She taught me that ultimately it was unkind of me to hide what was bothering me, and unkind not to tell you what I needed.”

He didn’t move as he worked through her words. Despite his tense posture she could see his eyes softening. Mary fought to keep her voice steady.

“Please be kind enough to tell me what you need.”

It was her plea that broke through. Owen dropped his head in his hands to hide his face, and while he didn’t audibly cry, his breathing was elevated. Mary moved up against his side and wrapped her arm around his back.

“Owen.”

“I never wanted to be part of the Avengers program.” His voice was so quiet it sounded fragile. “Maddie tried to get enrolled early, but I- I only followed after her because I knew she’d get herself killed if I wasn’t there. And we’re Rogers’, right? It’s what we’re supposed to do.”

Mary’s heart fractured a little and she ran her hand up and down his spine.

“Owen, you aren’t obligated to follow in your parent’s footsteps.”

He let out a short, bitter laugh.

“Aren’t I? I have these powers, I can help people. What does it say about me that I don’t want to.” He winced at his own words and corrected himself. “No, that’s not- I don’t like hurting people. Even if they deserve it. Every day, every moment, I have to be conscientious of what I do, how much force I use. I go out every night knowing that if I’m not careful I could kill someone that doesn’t have to die. Even then, I have to hurt people, and I hate it.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?”

Owen looked away again, his eyes going red, his brows furrowed as if he were angry.

“Because people go to work hating their jobs everyday. I’m not special for that. I have a responsibility to you and our kids, and to the commitments I knowingly made. I can’t just stop for something as trivial as me not liking it.”

“Yes,” Mary said, “you can. Do you hear yourself? We are not our powers, we’re people. You’re a person. You just happen to be able to do something most can’t. I know it’s so hard to separate ourselves from that, but Owen, you can’t keep doing this. You wouldn't let me, and I love you enough not to let you either.”

She tugged on his arm and he let her pull him closer. They folded into each other on the couch and let the conversation breathe as Mary ran her fingers through Owen’s curls.

“I can’t,” Owen finally said. “Maddie-”

“Maddie is a grown woman who can make her own decisions. She knows her own limitations and the risks she takes.”

The silence settled again and Mary waited.

“I’m supposed to lead this family,” Owen confessed. “How can I expect you all to trust me when something this- this small gets under my skin?”

That felt much closer to the truth than his excuse about Maddie.

“You are not less of a man because you don’t like hitting people and it upsets you.” She cupped his jaw and prompted him to look at her, the short hairs of his beard tickling her palm. He obliged, though he didn’t otherwise move; his arms stayed wrapped around her waist.

“I love you because you are gentle, because you choose to be. Because you are kind and generous and you love with all that you are. What will hurt our family more is if we spend years watching you suffer when you don’t need to. You have a choice, Owen.”

He pulled her closer and pressed his forehead against her shoulder. Mary kissed the top of his head and he let out a sound between a cry and a laugh. She felt his lips move as he murmured against her skin.

“I love you. So much.”

“I love you too. How about we relax the rest of the evening, and tomorrow we can work on your resignation?”

Owen pulled back far enough to kiss her on the lips.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think that might be a good idea.”

#mary/owen #my writing #started feeling like i could write an essay on owen's mental state/thought process regarding this #but its gotta stay in normal conversation territory

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rottmntsimp · 4 months

Note

I have a sibling! reader request if you’re up for it

could we have a bittersweet oneshot where the reader is a sea turtle (same age as Mikey) and is sort of like the little mermaid in reverse, dreaming of the ocean but keeping it to themself because they don’t want to hurt their family’s feelings? But at the same time the boys have kind of caught on and feel bad because they can’t give the reader what they want most? (not yet at least maybe Leo starts practicing his portal sword bc of this)

please and thank you

Under the sea

Pairing[s]: Donnie + Seaturtle!Sibling!Reader TW: Mentions disability and wheelchair use [although that isn't really a bad thing, idk if readers are comfortable], making Mikey cry :'] A/N: Hey!! Ok so, I will be honest I did try to write this but I gave up :') BUT- I did draw a little something something [more under cut!] and have decided to add a few headcanons to make up for it!! Sorry if it isn't what you wanted 😅 And I'm going to put this under Donnie's section as I don't really know where else to put it-

Seaturtle!Sibling!Reader

💜 - You were different.

💜 - That's the first thing that came to your head whenever you saw your brothers.

💜 - Sure, you're all mutants, you're all turtles, you're all around the same age, you were all raised the same way, but it's not that-

💜 - Your brothers can walk around, they can run, jump, fight.

💜 - The most you could do was slap someone with your fins as you sat there, useless in your wheelchair.

💜 - It made you feel odd as a child, having to crawl around when they were all learning to walk. To this day, you could still remember the look of joy in your father's eyes as your brothers walked towards him, the feeling of hurt as you realized at a young age that you'd never be the reason behind the light in his eyes.

💜 - It went on like that for a few years, even to the extent of hating your brothers.

💜 - You'd ignore Leo whenever he'd come up to you with a new action figure of comic of some kind, begging you to play superheroes with him.

💜 - You'd take any gift either Mikey or Donnie made you and shove it into the shoebox you kept under your bed, never once opening them.

💜 - You'd just sit there, pouting as Raph placed a teddy bear next to you, hoping to cheer you up.

💜 - Looking back, it was a bit overdramatic, yes, but back then it felt unfair, like the world was against you; and although to a lighter extent, it still does to this day.

💜 - They'd gone off, beginning they're training around the ripe age of five, while you sat there, unable to even stand, being forced to cheer them on when they did something right.

💜 - It was as though anything you did was outdone by something they did, and you were so close to just giving up...

💜 - But then came the time Splinter had decided to teach you all to swim, and the look in his eyes and you glided through the water made up for it all.

💜 - You could have sworn that it was from that moment on that you'd promised yourself that one day you'd go back to the ocean, but until then, you'd have to sit in your wheel chair, right next to Splinter's recliner as an endless amount of commercials played on loop for hours on end.

💜 - But in order for that to happen, you'd have to tell your family, and whether you liked it or not, you loved and cared for them and the fear of breaking their heart was too much. And so you did the next best thing.

💜 - Whenever you all would go to the sewers, or swimming in a pool or in the river, you'd make sure to have the time of your life, and collect a souvenir or two [ranging from stones, to postcards, to pictures you had Donnie take for you]

💜 - You'd have a whole corner of your room dedicated to just the ocean and other sea creatures, and I'd be lying if I said that didn't raise a slight suspicion on your family, especially Leo.

💜 - It was around dinner time, you were all in the projector room, munching away at yet another pizza, as you watch Jupiter Jim.

💜 - Taking another bite at the slice sandwiched in between both of your fins in an awkward attempt at holding it, you get the feeling that you're being watched. Turning around, lo and behold, it's Leo, staring at you seemingly deep in thought.

💜 - You couldn't remember what surprised you more that night. The fact that Leo wasn't watching Jupiter Jim, or that fact that he had the ability to think so deeply. [/j]

💜 - At this point, the others had noticed too, confusing them as much as you. Pressing pause, Leo seems to snap out of his thoughts, before taking a bite of his own.

💜 - "Say, Y/n... I've noticed that you've been staring a whole lot at those postcards you have taped up in your room...got anything to share with the class?"

💜 - Of course he had to bring it up in front of the others.

💜 - Brushing it off, you just cover it up as admiring the scenery, but clearly that wasn't the answer he wanted.

💜 - So for days, he kept egging you on, poking at you, pushing you to your breaking point till you just snapped.

💜 - And so you told him everything, from being excluded in day to day activities to practically disabled.

💜 - The silence, the shock, it was all just as you'd feared.

💜- The worst part? The rest of your family was right there, by the entrance of the kitchen. Oh, the look on poor Mikey's face, it made you want to tear up.

💜 - You wanted nothing more than to roll of into your room and scream. Damn it! This wasn't how you wanted to tell them-

💜 - As you sat there, chastising yourself, you froze up as you felt someone hug you. Looking down you see a grey patch of fur up in your face...Splinter?

💜 - "I'm sorry I have made you feel this way, my child...I hadn't realized your fins had made you feel this way...if only you'd told me earlier..."

💜 - Now you just felt guilty. Looking around, you realized how down everyone looked, apologetic even, as they seemed to understand where you were coming from.

💜 - Mikey rushed forward joining in on the hug, as he teared up, somehow still wearing a smile. "I'm sorry we made you feel like this, Y/N! I swear I'll visit you everyday when you leave, and I'll bring you gifts and you can introduce me to all of your little fishy friends and-"

💜 - "Wait-" You look down at Splinter, before scanning over the others, "You're not mad that I want to leave?"

💜 - "Sweet sweet Y/N," Donnie shook his head, smiling a bit himself, "Who are we to deny you your happiness?"

💜 - You couldn't help but sit there in shock, still processing what had just happened as the other walked closer, either joining in on the hug themselves or getting dragged into it by force.

💜 - And they kept their promise.

💜 - Every other day, they'd meet you at the dock, telling you about all the adventures they went on with April, and give you little souvenirs you could keep under water.

💜 - If it's hot out, they might join in, take a swim [although Mikey will stick to his floatie, thank you very much.]

💜 - And as promised, he will get to meet your little fishy friends, maybe even have them swim around his floatie for a while as you introduce him.

💜 - It might take some time for them to get used to you not being in the lair anymore.

💜 - No one dares to touch anything in your room, other than for the occasional dusting off. Your wheelchair is kept safe in your room, ready to be used if you ever decide to visit or come back.

💜 - But with how happy you seemed in the water, they'd say it's worth the wait to see you tomorrow.

NOW FOR THE ART!!!

Taglist:

@lemme-be-cringe-damnit @sleepytime-fics @ray-of-midnight-storm @hamthepan @charismakat @flapajacker

#rottmnt x reader #sibling reader #rottmnt x reader platonic #simps fics #simp draws

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helenaheissner · 5 months

Text

Magical Girl Exorcist Squad (Issue #3: Egg)

The covers rubbed over his hairless legs, hairless chest, hairless arms, sending blissful tactile echoes through his skin and up into his brain. Long-neglected synapses fired, pumping uncomfortable amounts of dopamine and serotonin through his unprepared gray matter. He did his best to ignore it, to file it away with all the other shameful thoughts he had.

Nick laid flat in his bed, staring directly at the ceiling with wide, panicked eyes and a tightly clenched jaw, fists gathered around sections of the sheets. He breathed slowly, carefully. Okay, he thought. Let’s just think about something else. What have we got going on today, Nygaard? Do we have class today? No, no we don’t. It is a Wednesday, isn’t it? No classes until tomorrow. So what can we do today? Something to get our mind off of this… Development.

His leg twitched involuntarily, and the sheet running over the bare skin felt like gentle hands caressing his inner thigh. Nick gasped, and then gasped again when he realized that the gasp had mutated into a girlish squeal halfway through. He tore his covers off his bed, desperate to get rid of the problem (?)- problem. Definitely a problem. Definitely definitely definitely. He pulled on clothes, only to find a different problem- the fabric of his jeans was rough on his hairless skin.

And thus Nick found himself putting on basketball shorts and a tank top, and when he realized he was dressed for the gym, decided that was where he could head to take his mind off this problem (?). Definitely a problem. Definitely definitely definitely-

He brushed his teeth, avoiding the mirror even more intently than usual. Then he race-walked his way to the gym, eyes on the ground the duration of the voyage.

He put his usual weight on the barbell and started bench-pressing.

Started being the operative word.

He pushed up on the barbell, and felt like he was trying to shove a brick wall over. He laid on the bench for five minutes, desperately trying to lift the weights he'd lifted with ease not two days prior. This is not happening this is not happening- I spent YEARS building up my muscle! There’s no way in hell I lost it overnight.

A test was necessary to make sure. He took two weights off the barbell. And it wasn’t enough- the wall was still there. So he removed another two. And another two. And another two. He laid flat on stool, sweating and aching but unable to do anything. “Blue blazes,” he muttered, hating the part of himself that whispered in his ear, this is fantastic!

“You know, if you’re trying to get in superhero shape, you should’ve hit me up,” Heather said, looming over him in a verdant sports bra and matching spandex pants. “Also, you should really have a spotter when you lift.”

“Ah, well… I…,” Nick started. “I don’t really have a good answer on this one, actually.”

Heather snorted, then offered him a hand up. “Fair enough, friend.”

Nick took it, and hopped off the bench.

“Let’s get outta here,” Heather said.

“I just got here.”

“Yeah, and you’re already overexerting yourself by the look of it,” Heather said. “C’mon. I wanna get ta’ know ya’ better.”

“Why do women keep saying that to me?” Nick grumbled.

“You might be the only college boy in Boston who says that like it’s a bad thing,” Heather said.

Nick cringed, desperately hoping it wasn’t clear on his face. ‘Boy.’ Right. That’s… That’s still what I am. Like it or not.

… Okay, no, no, stop that, brain. We are NOT having this conversation.

They broke to shower, then met outside the gym. Heather wore tight jeans, three-inch eggshell white high-heeled sandals, and a green crop-top that showed off her six-pack. Nick gaped at her midriff with jealousy.

“Eyes are up here,” Heather said, pointing towards her face. “Also, barking up the wrong tree, sparky.”

“Oh! Oh Gosh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t- you’re just in wicked good shape.”

“Thanks,” she said as they started walking. "Worked hard for this, if I do say so myself. I used to be thin as a rail, but then... Well, I got called to a higher purpose, so I figured it was time to get buff. Then I realized I just like being buff."

"Good for you!" Nick said with an earnest smile.

They trailed through campus, traversing the cement jungle as gaggles of students, male and female and nonbinary alike, weaved around them down the cobblestone road. “So, tell me about yourself,” Heather said.

“Uh… Well, I’m from Manchester, New Hampshire-"

"New Hampshire? Dear God, you poor, unfortunate soul."

"-but please don’t hold that against me,” Nick said wryly.

“Tough ask, but I’ll see what I can do, just so long as you promise not to throw a hissy fit over a sales tax in front of me.”

Nick snort-laughed. “Also, I played basketball growing up-”

“Lemme guess- point guard.”

“Ding ding ding,” Nick said. “I play fighting games, I collect comics, I go to church, and I work out.”

“More of a cardio guy, I’m guessing?”

“Uh… Sure.”

Heather gave him an odd look, like she was sizing him up for something but wasn’t sure what. “Anything else I should know?”

“Um… nothing springs to mind,” Nick said. “I’m the oldest of three kids, my Dad is a fisherman and my mom is a high school math teacher. I’m not the first person in my family to go to college, but I am the first to go out of state- I’m pretty sure we’ve been in New Hampshire since before the Civil War. What about you?”

They followed the cobblestone road to the campus coffee shop, the Doghouse, a one-story stone building with warm overhead lights and an abundance of windows wrapped around red leather couches and a burning hearth. Inside, they found a shocking lack of a line, simply three freshmen baristas standing between coffee machines and stacks of pastries, paying more attention to their phones and textbooks than anything on the other side of the counter. Heather ordered an Americano, and Nick ordered a mocha.

“Uh… I’m an English major, concentrating in Medieval European Literature. Save the jokes about unemployment, I have heard them before. I’m also a middle child,” Heather said as they waited for their drinks. “Third of five: two brothers and two sisters. My family owns a brewery in Hartford-”

“Hartford? You’re from-”

“Yes, I’m from Connecticut,” Heather rolled her eyes. “And I promise I wouldn’t hold you being from New Hampshire against you, so-”

“Hey, easy,” Nick chuckled as their drinks were called. He collected them from the counter and handed Heather her bitter bean-water. “I got nothing against Connecticut- I was gonna ask if you’ve ever seen the Connecticut Sun play?”

“... Yeah. I have- been going to games since I was a kid. You follow the WNBA?”

“Heck yeah!” Nick said. Then, hurriedly, he added, “I just really like basketball.”

“Nice! Cheers!”

They clinked their Styrofoam cups, then resumed their jaunt down the cobblestone road until they found themselves in front of a brownstone slightly off campus.

“What’s this?” Nick asked.

“Oh, it’s my sorority house,” Heather said. “Wanna come in? I’ve got a console, we can play some Soul Caliber or something.”

“Dope!” Nick said.

They entered, and were immediately hit by a wall of noise. Country music blared from speakers, and a staggering number of young women stood inside grinding on one another while orange and purple strobe lights flashed over the sparsely furnished home.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, I’m in the lesbian sorority,” Heather said.

“I see.”

“We can go somewhere else if you want.”

“Can we still game in your room?”

“Fuck yeah. Come on.”

They stumbled their way through the gyrating crowd of sapphic partygoers in various states of undress until they found their way into a room at the end of the hall on the first floor. Wherein they found three naked women sitting in a circle on a lone bed, brushing each other's hair. “Hiiiiiii, Heather,” they all said in unison.

Nick made sure to stare at the ceiling. Heather did no such thing.

“Hey, uh,” Heather said, “So I kinda forgot I-”

“Had a booty-call?” Nick raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I’ll, uh, make this quick.”

“Not too quick,” the three girls giggled again.

“Eh heh heh heh,” Heather said.

“I, uh, Imma head out,” Nick said.

“No, no, just wait outside a little bit. This will only take a few. I promise!”

Nick sighed, then climbed outside and found an empty couch to sit on while the party raged around him. A girl came up to him and offered a beer, to which he replied it was a bit early in the day… At which point two other girls sat down next to him and started making out passionately. At which point Nick took the beer and chugged it down. Then another. Then three or four more by the time the girls started getting frisky. After which point, a cloud of marijuana drifted out from the kitchen and found its way into Nick’s lungs.

Being cross-faded was a bit like being pulled in two separate directions by three separate chains tied to four separate horses- eventually, you gave up and let yourself start crying, and then you blacked out.

An ethereal, ephemeral flood floated Nick down his subconscious and plopped him a bright, spacious hair salon. He was led into a chair and his head was lowered back into a washing basin. Water poured over his hair, and gentle fingers caressed his scalp. His hair grew, and grew, and grew, and was snipped and styled and curled and teased into a magnificent blonde mane worthy of a fifties Hollywood starlet. His breasts grew to D-cups and his hips swelled and his male genatilia fade away into nothing. He was zipped up into a sparkling sequin dress and placed into spike-heels and painted with immaculate makeup. He… She… Was led outside, where a limo was parked. She knew her date was inside the car. The door opened, and a beautiful woman with long, wavy dark hair, clad in a yellow gown that displayed her pronounced bust, waltzed towards her. She opened her mouth…

… And Nick woke up on the couch, the sun setting outside, most of the girls around him in the process of stripping and getting down to business.

“BLUE BLAZES!” Nick cried, and ran out the house.

He started walking back down the cobblestone, towards the campus, towards the church. “I am such a prude,” he said under his breath. He took stock of his body as he walked- he didn’t appear to have changed any further; nothing had grown or shrunk, and his voice was still the same. Which meant it wasn’t sleep that was doing it.

“Okay, so it must be my powers,” Nick whispered as he walked. “It makes sense- they are magical girl powers. It just means that I have to stop using my powers and I won’t change any more-”

An explosion ruptured a block away, forcing the stench of brimstone into the pulsating air. Nick stood there a moment, and said, “I used to be able to ignore this,” to nobody in particular.

He began to channel the power into his fist, summoning the glamor and charging off in the direction of the explosion. He didn’t wanna think about the consequences, didn’t want to think about how much he’d change this time.

Didn’t think about anything but saving people. No matter what happened to him, that was the important part. He didn’t have time to pause and play Hamlet, not when lives were at stake.

He skidded to a halt in front of Boston Harbor, muddy water and boats rocking with waves. Out on the water, a whale-watching boat was being accosted by another freaking shark-monster. Seriously, again?!

Nick noticed the shark-monster was armed with massive pairs of scissors and held a purse over its shoulder. It was shouting something, some hammy and bombastic monologue about its origins and motives that wasn’t carrying all the way to shore. Meanwhile, a dead whale floated on the surface, bleeding profusely while smaller sharks swarmed around it.

“NICK!” a familiar voice called from overhead.

The other squad members arrived soaring overhead. Heather and Debbi flew down while Amy and Cass shot towards the monster.

“Good to see you,” Debbi said. “I’ve been dealing with this freak all day.”

“What? Why didn’t you call us?” Nick said.

“You weren’t answering your phone. Neither was Heather,” Debbi said, giving her Heather a side-eyed glare.

Heather laughed nervously and rubbed the back of her head. Nick just felt like a tool.

“This thing is preying on people’s frustration over the lack of whales on the whale watch to get them possessed by demons,” Debbi said.

“That’s absurd!”

“I agree, but it’s the truth. It's how demons possess people- they take advantage of negative emotions to worm their way in. We’re gonna take the fight to the monster- we need you to exorcize people as they come out of the water- understand?”

Nick nodded, hating himself for nearly pausing to consider it.

The girls flew out for the fight, leaving Nick on the shore with his glowing fist.

The first person climbed out of the water, their eyes solid black, smoke and brimstone wafting out of their very being. Their shadow was extra-long in the moonlight and revealed inhuman shapes- chimeras of boars and rams and serpents that had slithered into human skin. Nick rushed them, punching them with his holy light. Shadows and smoke exploded outward, and the person fell forward into Nick’s arms and passed out as the darkness faded from their eyes. A burning cloud floated in the air above them before rushing down into the ground.

Then came the next person, also possessed. Nick punched the demon straight out of them, then pulled the civilian's unconscious form to safety a few feet away.

Sirens sounded behind him- EMTS had arrived, and started tending to the civilians.

Then the next possessed person. And the next, and then next-

The sun was up by the time the fight was over. The girls came flying back, haggard and exhausted by the look of them. They floated in front of Nick. “God, that was awful,” Heather said. “We chased that thing out to sea- I think we went over the continental shelf! It- whoa. Nick. Broseph. You okay?”

Nick stood in front of a block’s worth of unconscious people, all freed from demonic possession, all either inside ambulances or on stretchers or waiting by the EMTs to receive treatment. His arms hung at his sides, his chest heaving, his legs sore and tender. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. I’m allllllll goooooddddddd-”

Nick’s knees buckled, and darkness enveloped him. He closed his eyes before his face met the ground.

He dreamt he was back in the salon, and the girl from his first dream, the girl he'd become, the girl he wished he was, sat next to him, smiling.

"Thank you for keeping us safe all these years," she said. "Now let me keep you safe."

"I'm not ready to leave," Nick said, tears welling up in his eyes.

"You aren't gonna go anywhere. You just get to rest now. I know this has been hard on you. You being out there, taking point, being our shield. You protected us."

"And you don't need me anymore," Nick said.

"Of course I need you!" the woman said, her tears mirroring his. "I'll always need you. That's why I'll always keep you in our heart, where you belong." She lowered the shoulder of her dress, just above the breast, revealing the patch of skin above her heart. A part of it was missing, a piece of a jigsaw puzzle. In its place was a black patch of hollow darkness, waiting to be filled. "See? You go here. Next to our heartbeat. You've been doing this on your own our entire life, but I don't think we can be separate anymore. I can't... I can't bear for us to be separate anymore. Not when we've got so much potential to do good, to help people. To love. Just like I love you."

"I don't love me," Nick confessed.

"Yeah, but I'm you, and you're me, so what does that tell you?"

Nick chewed on that. He knew the answer. Deep down, he'd always known. "... That I'm-"

He woke up before he could finish the conversation with his subconscious.

When he opened his eyes, his body didn’t hurt anymore, and he wasn’t on his face, and he wasn’t on the ground. He was beneath the ceiling of Heather’s room, on her bed, with Heather and Debbi looking down at him with concern.

Debbi breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God you’re awake.”

Nick nodded slowly, still tired, tempted to drift back to sleep. And yet he didn’t want to- he felt amazing, warm, relaxed. At peace.

“Hey buddy,” Heather said. “So, uh, remember earlier when I asked if there was anything else you wanted to tell me about yourself? I was thinking maybe... Something about your identity you'd neglected to mention, that might explain why you have powers men don't really have?”

“Yeah,” Nick said, knowing where this was going. I'm not ready I'm not ready I'm not ready. His voice hadn’t changed any further. He breathed a sigh of relief… And then noticed a subtle shifting on his chest. Not ready not ready not ready-

“Okay, before you do anything,” Heather said, “We need you to promise not to freak out.”

Nick ignored her. He put a hand on his chest. It was sensitive, tender… Soft. And bigger. And it moved when he moved, his chest moved in ways he wasn’t used to.

On Nick’s chest sat a small but noticeable pair of breasts.

And Nick realized why he’d felt so good when he’d woken up. Why ‘he’ had magical girl powers in the first place. That dream had been right. He wasn’t a ‘he.’ He was a she. And she wasn't ready, and part of her knew she never would be. But she put a hand over her heart, where the missing piece was meant to go, and to her relief, she felt it. Knew the shield was still there, next to her heartbeat where he belonged.

Buy the ebook here:

#anime #magical girl #magical girl exorcist squad #original fiction #comics #superhero #urban fantasy #action #comedy #angels #demons #trans protagonist #romance #bisexual #wlw #trans woman #web novel #serial fiction

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lilyswritings · 5 months

Text

late.

synopsis: your boyfriend’s superhero antics give you a fright, and it’s up to him to reassure you of his well-being when he returns home from the fight.

author’s note: i’ll admit, this has been sitting in my drafts for the longest time... likely since no way home came out! but i’ve been trying to get back into the swing of writing, and i figured it was a good idea to start with finishing up some works in progress before diving into anything new. so here’s some peter angst and fluff, just like the good ol’ days. enjoy!!

wordcount: 1,613

18. “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” 25. “What the hell were you thinking?!” 48. “Why are you crying?”

Peter Parker x Reader

The window to the bedroom slides open, a figure in blue and red quietly stepping through the frame and carefully sliding the window shut behind him, all the while listening intently for any signs of life in the apartment beyond. Satisfied that he hasn’t woken his aunt, Peter turns around only to be startled by a figure sat in the darkness of the room, criss-cross on his bed.

“Shit.” He curses, huffing out a laugh when he realizes it’s only you. “It’s late,” Peter starts, tugging his mask off and tossing it onto his desk as he turns towards his closet to grab a t-shirt and sweatpants. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

He doesn’t notice how silent you are until you don’t respond, when he turns around mid-unzipping his outfit to find you staring at him — like you’ve seen a ghost. Later, he’ll blame the shadows in the darkened room as why he didn’t immediately notice the shine of dried tears on your cheeks, or the way you’d bitten your nails down to the skin like you always did when you were panicking.

For now, though, he’s too focused on getting out of his suit and into comfortable clothes, the events of the evening still making his brain run haywire as he runs everything that he did that went wrong through his mind, planning for next time.

“Look, I’m sorry for returning so late,” He begins, tugging the suit off. “I lost track of time, I meant to text you but I think my phone got smashed in the fight and I’m probably going to have to at least replace the screen if not the whole thing.” He rambles, until finally, he’s changed entirely into casual clothes, and he lets out a sigh. When he turns around, finally, your expression has morphed from one of shock into anger, and he frowns at the sudden shift in emotion.

“What?” He asks, immediately wracking his brain for what he could have done to piss you off in the last few minutes. In response, you push yourself up and off the bed, coming to stand face-to-face with him as you take in his injuries, brow furrowed and arms crossed.

“What was that?” You ask, gesturing vaguely to the window in reference to his escapades of the night.

“Oh, it was just that Rhino guy again, turns out he escaped from prison and was trying the same ol’ shtick of—”

“Rhino?” You cut him off, hands moving to your hips, and Peter winces, realizing his error.

“Yeah, uh, I know I said I wouldn’t take him on again by myself, but he was actively driving away with some radioactive materials and the police weren’t even close to him at that point so if I hadn’t stepped in chances are he would have gotten away and—”

“So you went alone? What the hell were you thinking?” You demand, not letting him finish, watching his eyebrows tug together as he becomes defensive.

“Hey, come on, I can handle myself. I’m Spider-Man.” Peter retorts with a cocky smile, although still evidently confused, and you shove at his chest. “What the hell—” He begins to argue, smile dropping.

“It’s not funny. You could have been killed!” You hiss, barely containing an angry shouting match as you try to keep your voice down to not wake Aunt May up.

“Are you— Why are you crying?” Peter asks, finally, and you freeze, only now noticing the feeling of tears running down your cheeks. He steps forwards delicately, hands up, and you step back, watching his expression morph into one of hurt.

“What’s going on with you?” He asks, obviously confused, and you fling a hand out towards your open laptop as your other hand comes up to hastily scrub at your cheeks, as if to erase the tears altogether.

Peter, still looking at you with concern in his eyes, hesitantly sits down on the bed and turns the laptop on. The blue glow of the screen lights up his face as he reads the open article, mouth opening slightly as he pieces together your reaction.

The headline ‘Spider-Man: Gone For Good?’ stares back at him, along with an attached video of himself in his costume being smashed into the side of a building and remaining there, unmoving, until the video cuts out. ‘Spider-Man severely injured... Worried crowd of onlookers... Has the city’s hero been defeated?... No sign of hero since the incident...’ Peter’s eyes skim the article, before he turns to face you with a softened expression, noticing that you haven’t stopped crying, though you’re frustratedly scrubbing at your face in hopes of wiping away the evidence.

He stands up from the bed and approaches you, and this time, you let him place his hands on your shoulders as you wipe at your face. “I’m so sorry,” He starts, voice quiet, moving to tilt your chin up with his hand. “That must have been really scary for you.”

You swallow thickly, taking in a shaky breath as you lock eyes with him. “It said you were dead.” You whisper, voice breaking slightly on the last word. “The video—” You stop yourself, tears beginning to well up anew in your eyes, and Peter winces.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know there was a news station, I was just— I needed to rest for a minute, that was it. I had no idea...” He curses himself internally — he should have been on the lookout for cameras, what if he’d taken his mask off? He never wanted you to see him in a fight, let alone see him get hurt that badly.

You nod, hand coming up to rest on his cheek, eyes skimming over the bruise on his cheekbone that seems to be disappearing with each passing second. Yay healing powers, you think sarcastically. “Okay. I’m sorry for snapping at you.” You take in another breath, this time less shaky. “I was just so scared.” You admit, and there you go again, fresh tears falling as you curse and look down at the floor.

Peter takes that as his cue to envelop you in a hug, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and tugging you closer, arms locked around you protectively. “I’m here. I’m okay.” He utters the affirmations into your neck, pressing a feather-light kiss there as if to prove it.

“It’ll take more than that to get rid of me.” He huffs into your hair. Though his words are obviously meant to lighten the mood, the cocky attitude reminds you one again of your initial frustration, and you impulsively pull away and launch your first forward to punch Peter in the shoulder.

Of course it only ends up startling him, and the impact feels like you just punched a wall — curse you, superhero muscles — and you pull your hand back with a muttered curse. His dark eyebrows tug together as he holds a hand over the spot you hit.

“What was that?” He asks, eyes darting from your fist to your face, tone concerned although you detect a hint of amusement in his soft brown eyes at the instant repercussions for your outburst.

“It’s not funny. You fucking scared me.” You grumble, cradling your now-throbbing fist against your chest, and he huffs out a short laugh. “Don’t laugh at me.” You scold, though your anger is dissolving by the second just due to his reassuring presence.

“I already said I’m sorry—” You frown at his casual attitude. “—don’t punch me again—” He interjects hurriedly. “—but I am sorry. Really sorry. I’ll be more careful next time, I promise.”

“You’d better.” You frown, still trying to eradicate the image of his prone form lying among the rubble, no sign of movement or life. “Or at least fucking text me, or, or call me, or— send a Spider-signal or something! Next time your phone breaks, I want you to use a payphone.” You decide, nodding, and he laughs under his breath.

“Okay,” He concedes, stepping closer to you and kissing you on the forehead. “I’ll build a little pocket into the suit to hold some quarters.”

You roll your eyes at the sass, but your smile betrays you as you lean into his touch, his arms coming up to encircle you. “Don’t be a smartass.” You mutter into his shoulder, and he laughs.

“Can we go to bed now?” He asks, pressing a kiss to your temple, and you nod. “I’m wiped, and I think you might be too.” You nod again, sighing and going to pull away from him, but he holds you tighter and your brow furrows in confusion.

“I thought you wanted to go to bed—” Your words are cut off by a squeal of surprise and he holds you fast to his chest and shoots a web at the wall above his bed, tugging the both of you onto the bed in one swooping motion.

You land sideways, eyes wide, and erupt into a stifled laugh at his antics. “You’re insane, it would have taken us all of ten seconds to walk over and get in bed!” You scold, and he finally lets you go and shrugs, pulling the blanket up and over the both of you.

“And this way, it took us one second.” He smirks, and you smack him on the chest.

“Okay, Spider-Man.” You retort, voice mocking, but he smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead, wrapping his arms around you once more. The room goes quiet, your breaths slowing and deepening as you lie in Peter’s arms, and just as you are about to fall into a deep sleep, you smile as you hear him utter three lovely little words.

“I love you.”

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker oneshot #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #spider man imagine #spider man x reader #mcu imagine #marvel imagine

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jjungkookislife · 2 years

Text

Shadow [Ch. 3]

pairing: villain!jungkook x sidekick!reader

genre: villain au, crack

summary: Villains have to go grocery shopping too!

wc: 921

warnings: cursing, named reader (Shadow is her alias), we meet reader’s ex, allusion to shop lifting (she doesn’t tho)

date: February 11, 2022

Two weeks later, you’re pushing a shopping cart through the aisles of your local grocery store. Jungkook walks behind you, clunky boots stomping as he goes.

“Shadow, it’s been weeks since we did anything diabolical. I’m getting antsy here.” Jungkook complains.

“The plan is in motion, okay? Besides, you’re the one who got fifteen extra mouths to feed, remember? Our little penguin buddies take up a lot of my time.” You shake your head as you go down another aisle, your handwritten shopping list crumpled in your hand.

“Hey! They help out!” Jungkook huffs, shoving his hands in the oversized hoodie he’s worn today. His pretty inky locks are covered under a black baseball cap and he looks delicious.

“Jungkook, no they don’t. We should really send them back before we put our plan into action. We won’t have room for them in the new hideout,” you explain. Jungkook pouts, his penguins.

It’s not until you turn into the cereal aisle that he perks up again. He grabs a box of Lucky Charms and you swipe it from his hands.

“No!”

“But it’s so good!” Jungkook whines, stomping his foot like a petulant child. This was the man who was gonna rule the world? Cute.

“It tastes disgusting. The marshmallows are hard and chewy. They taste like cardboard. How can you eat this?” Your face sours at the box before you’re putting it back on the shelf.

“Take the marshmallows out,” Jungkook suggests but you shake your head.

“Then it’s just a bowl of sad-tasting cereal,” you say as you walk forward, grabbing your favorite cereal off the shelf. Jungkook sighs, following after you as he wraps his arms around your waist, making it hard for you to push the shopping cart.

“Kook,” you whisper, and you feel him hum in response as he slowly unravels himself from you.

“Go get your cereal,” you roll your eyes as you hear his boots stomp his way to the cereal before tossing two boxes in the cart. You scoff, leave it to him to grab more than what you said.

You’re humming to yourself when you get a video call on your phone. You answer it, pushing the cart without looking in front of you. Jungkook’s walked away, getting lost in the store and you know damn well his phone is on silent, so you’ll have to have a cashier page him over the intercom when you leave.

You sigh, answering the video call from ‘Penguin Pal’, who surprisingly took to technology really well. He even managed to print double-sided pages after one try. Hmm, maybe he should take over the world instead?

“Hello, P. What’s up?” you ask as you grab something off the shelf, looking down at your phone.

Penguin Pal is standing in front of the whiteboard, his penguin buddies surround him as he points to a picture of a fish.

“We’re getting fish in just a moment, P. I promise,” you say as you turn the corner of the aisle, gasping when you crash into another cart with your own.

“Fuck,” you curse, hanging up the call and looking up. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

The person you hit looks up, biting their bottom lip.

“It’s fine,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. You groan internally, realizing you’ve bumped into your ex.

You wish you could say things ended well, but being the sidekick of a villain when your ex is a superhero… yeah, kinda awkward.

“Well, I’ll be seeing you. Bye, Namjoon!” you back up, going around him and he stops to turn to look at you. “Wait, you are paying for that, right? Right?!”

“Bye!”

Back in the lair, you’re having one last look around to make sure you’re not forgetting anything. It’ll probably be a few months before you can come back and you’ve left a very precise feeding schedule for your pet sitter on how and when to feed Pete and Fred.

“Come on,” you urge Jungkook as you rip everything off the whiteboard and stuff it into a bag. You’ve swiped all the hard drives clean and taken anything you may need with you.

“I’m gonna miss this place,” Jungkook frowns when he looks around. He knows it’s the first place they’d look for the two of you though. You’ve managed to lay low these past few weeks, which hasn’t made you quite suspicious to the heroes but it was only a matter of time before someone showed up at your door to ask what you were planning.

“We’ll be back, Dr. J,” you assure him as you wrap your arms around his slim waist, your chin resting on his shoulder.

“I know but this is our first home,” his melancholy tone makes you tear up. You sniffle once before he’s turning to face you, his hand cupping your face.

“Don’t cry, baby,” he whispers as he wipes the few stray tears away.

You sniffle again, clearing your throat as you look at him. “I’m supposed to be telling you that.”

Jungkook laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead but bumps you with his cap. You pout, taking it off his head before you’re pressing your lips to his.

Jungkook doesn’t waste a second, his arms circling around your waist as yours wrap around his neck. He holds you close, teeth gently tugging on your bottom lip before he’s releasing you reluctantly.

With his forehead pressed to yours and his hands cradling your face delicately, he whispers, “I love you.”

thank you for reading! ♡ if you liked it, please let me know! 💌

<< previous // next >>

#btshoneyhive #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader insert #villain!jungkook

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bottoms-movie · 3 years

Text

SAMBUCKY FIC RECS

so a lot of people seemed interested this so here it is! if ya’ll like this, i can make more parts! this is split into three categories: based on tfatws, canon divergence, and au. all fics are on ao3. all of the fics are complete. some fics do include smut, but i included the ratings, so make sure to check for that based on preferences!

also, feel free to send me asks on your thoughts on any fics or if you’re interested in another sambucky fic rec post!

BASED ON TFATWS

Fill the Hole in my Heart | Not Rated | 4,848 words

Bucky dives into the world of online dating. The girls are nice, but there seems to be something missing. When he goes to Louisiana to meet Sam and his family, he realizes what that something was.

Skip, Reverse | Explicit | 7,945 words

Sam stood in the middle of their local Target with a throw pillow in each hand. The one in his left hand was butter-soft and matched the drapes in the living room, but Bucky had walked by five seconds ago and declared the one on the right “absolutely fucking hideous,” and so now Sam kind of wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything.

Sometimes romance is just bickering with your superhero partner/roommate at several different Target locations.

just won’t do right | General | 7,524 words

Sam's eyebrows go up, impressed, and he reaches over to squeeze Torres' shoulder, "This is amazing, kid. Thanks, really."

Bucky sits and watches in utter horror as the pink darkens on Torres' cheeks.

Oh, he realizes. Oh. Fuck.

body language will do the trick | Explicit | 12,598 words

“There’s no way you’re going to win this,” Bucky tells Sam. “I am going to love language the shit out of you.”

Sam gives him a considering look. “You do seem like you’d be really good at that.”

Bucky’s cheeks flush with heat. “Thanks, pal, I—”

Sam smirks, and Bucky’s eyes narrow. He shoves his elbow into Sam’s side and stalks off, leaving Sam cackling behind him.

“Your ass looks great today!” Sam yells.

Bucky reaches up to flip Sam the bird, and he definitely does not feel grateful that he wore his good jeans today. Bucky’s ass looks great every day.

checklist | General | 4,716 words

Bucky Barnes keeps a mental checklist of things he knows to be true at any given moment. Sometimes the checklist changes, because he's learned something else about himself. It changes, for example, when he starts realizing that maybe he would like to kiss Sam Wilson. Maybe.

best laid plans | 3 parts | 26,808 words

part 1: baby you’re the wave and I’m ready for the crash | Explicit | 6,616 words

Nah, my plan’s better,” Sam declares, before clapping Bucky on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry, what plan? Was that a plan? It didn’t sound like a plan to me, it sounded like a vague intention,” says Bucky, still scowling, and Sam grins.

“We’re winging it, the plan is a work in progress! Now c’mon, we gotta make some wardrobe adjustments if we’re gonna get into that club.”

Sam and Bucky have some unorthodox methods of going undercover in a club.

He Doesn’t Deserve You! | Teen | 5,154 words

Sam and Bucky have an argument that results in Bucky being left at the bar. A group of drunk strangers assumes Bucky just got dumped and quickly adopt him for the night to make him feel better.

Reconstitution | Not Rated | 10,228 words

“I didn’t back Steve on the Sokovia Accords,” Sam says unprompted one day. They’re so close to apprehending the Flagsmashers and wrapping up this ridiculous saga.

“I don’t follow,” Bucky says.

“I was the one who refused to sign it first. Not Steve.”

Sam says it so softly that Bucky has to strain to hear him. Sam is loud and chatty and half the time he keeps up a constant stream of chatter just to get on Bucky’s nerves, but Bucky’s coming to realize that when he really wants to make himself heard, he’s soft spoken and mild. Bucky doesn’t entirely follow his train of thought, though.

Or: a breaking down, remaking, and coming back stronger than ever before

Stuck On You (You Suez, You Luez) | Explicit | 10,136 words

Sam and Bucky’s mission was simple: stowaway on a ship suspected of weapons-smuggling in the Suez, gather enough intel to report back, and hop off again in Port Said. Something gets in the way, and a day-long recon session turns into a week of chess, bickering, semi-successful movie references, and trying not to go slowly insane.

His Touch | Mature | 1,006 words

When Baron Zemo touched Bucky’s face, Sam Wilson saw red.

Bucky just wants Sam to comfort him.

rusted | Teen | 2,358 words

Bucky doesn’t grace him with a sound of acknowledgement. He’s been quiet, ever since that night with Zemo. Well. Quieter. It’s almost like. Every time he opens his mouth, he’s half-expecting the Winter Soldier to come out.

He hasn’t, yet. Won’t, ever again. Not unbidden. Sam’s sure of that. Bucky, not so much.

‘You busy?’

‘’m scouring the—’

‘Good,’ Sam cuts the idiot off, ‘I need you to help me shave.’

advanced therapy methods for large adult men | 2 parts | 11,717 words

part 1: The Gottman Method for Dealing with Conflict | Mature | 4,187 words

Bucky and Dr. Raynor have a follow-up session and two entirely different conversations about his relationship status.

Or: Let's do more couples therapy, James.

it’s always Bucky’s Fault | 3 parts | 20,089 words

part 1: Did you see it? | Explicit | 3,905 words

In which there's supposedly a viral video of the Winter Soldier on his knees sucking off Captain America.

Everything is, like always, completely Bucky's fault.

CANON DIVERGENCE

Even in the Present (I Am Living in the Past) | Teen | 16,977 words

Sometimes Sam still questions everything about his ability to shoulder the 80-year legacy he now bears. His history, and the history of his loss, sticks with him and even in healing he doubts whether or not he is able to fulfil his purpose, and whether he may find lasting peace and happiness.

Told in fluid-fragments, the story moves between his therapy sessions after his return from active duty and the post-Endgame present.

You never forget your first | Teen | 3,650 words

The story of Bucky and Sam getting together in a series of firsts.

leftovers | Mature | 19,249 words

With the New Avengers up and running, Sam finally has time to start dating again. Unfortunately, it's not going as well as he'd hoped.

Partners | Explicit | 7,235 words

Sam's not sure if he can be Captain America. He's not a supersoldier. He can't throw the shield. He's just a dude.

And Bucky Barnes is just a nuisance, albeit a pretty good-looking one.

I’ll explain everything to the geese | Explicit | 50,949 words

Bucky is so competent that it hurts my feelings is not a rational complaint to have about a person, and yet, after a year of being Captain America and partnering up with Bucky for the new and improved, post-Blip Avengers, that’s kinda how Sam’s feeling.

It’s not great. It maybe leads to Sam making some rash, ill-advised decisions like claiming he has a previously undisclosed superpower, and then getting caught in a web of lies when he ends up actually developing that surprisingly inconvenient superpower. Talking to birds had seemed like a harmless superpower, but it turns out that birds have a lot of opinions, and they don’t hesitate to tell Sam about them, especially when it comes to his supposedly subpar courting skills. Which is ridiculous, because Sam isn’t courting Bucky. Right?

Night Swimming | Teen | 2,056 words

“Come on. The princess has a new arm for you and I gotta see if there’s a barber around here willing to tackle your…” Sam waved a hand at Bucky’s face.

“I don’t want a new arm,” Bucky immediately bit out.

And then -

“I can cut my own damn hair.”

Sam just raised both eyebrows. Crossed his arms over his chest again.

Dared Bucky to prove him wrong.

Cpvert Coffee & Flirtation Specialist | General | 5,542 words

The reporter says "—for Captain America to—"

And Bucky rolls his eyes. "Oh, here we go."

Sam looks at him then tips his head sideways, got a weird grin on his face. "Not a fan?"

"Not that. Just… the guy seems too good to be true, right? Wings and a shield?? Come on."

"Uh, is that why your eyes are like glued to the screen whenever he's on?" Kate says. "Is that why you call him Captain Tight Ass?"

"He's a goddamn show-off, and you know it. Tight ass or not."

Just then Sam snorts, real loud, grabs his coffee and suffers a horribly controlled laugh on his way out the door.

Stolen Moments | Teen | 98,767 words

“No,” Sam said, chuckling. “I don’t cheat,” he swept his gaze up and down James’ body, “even with guys who look like you. But, I’m bored and a little pissed, so if you wanna sit here and shoot the shit ‘til my man shows back up, I’m game.”

Never one to back to back down from a challenge - especially a challenge who looked like Sam Wilson - Bucky took another swig from his bottle and replied, “Sure, doll. I’ve got nothing but time.”

Steve has Sam. Bucky wants Sam. Sam wasn’t expecting any of this.

Such a Whirlwind Since I Saw You | Teen | 10,871 words

The Men of Letters turned Bucky Barnes into a weapon. Hunters Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanov are determined to save him, but they're going to need Sam Wilson's help.

“So you want me to ditch work, drive across America with you until you find your friend, who you thought was dead - all while avoiding some high-tech hunters who are out for blood?” Sam is asking.

Steve shrugs a shoulder, looking a little sheepish. Natasha almost laughs at the dry tone of Sam’s voice, but he's not wrong.

You Got What I Need? | Explicit | 37,588 words

Sam and Bucky are both in a bind, professionally. Nat points out a solution that neither men like. To save their careers they play along or rather, stop playing all together.

#marvel #sam wilson #bucky barnes #tfatws #sambucky #sambucky fanfiction #sambucky fic recs #fic recs #usermarcy #usersof #tusernini #tusersammy #usersmile #usersamanne #usercross #sambucky fanfic #my fic recs

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

Even Though We May Be Hopeless Hearts Just Passing Through, I Was Made For Loving You PT. 1

Batsis x Kyle Rayner

Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I realize the other story didn't follow the whole, dating the brother's best friend trope, so I decided to remedy it. And what do you get when you cross a hopeless romantic with someone who's new to love? Perfection. That's what. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Saturday mornings, in Dick’s opinion, were meant for sleeping in and quite possibly going to IHOP when everyone finally crawled out of bed at ten. They were not meant for being shoved in the side by a little brother.

“Golden-boy,” a voice grouched from beneath the bedside. “Your phone’s been going off for an hour. Either put it on silent or answer the goddamn thing.”

Dick let out a tired ‘pfft’, rolling onto his stomach, face buried in the side of the bed as he looked down to the floor. “Annoyed much, Little-wing?”

“I am going to shove that phone so far up your—”

Reaching over, Dick put the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

Where are you?

“Still in bed,” he responded, sentence ending in a groan as he stretched. “Why?”

You were supposed to be on the flight back to Gotham two hours ago.

Dick’s eyes went wide, and he sat up, gaping at the bedside clock. “It’s today.”

It is today. I can’t believe you forgot it was today.

“Oh my God, it’s today and we missed our flight.” He stumbled out of the bed, barely registering the shout from Jason as his foot landed in his brother’s stomach. “Jason, get up! It’s today!’

“What’s today?” his little brother griped, rubbing his abdomen.

“(Y/N)’s coming back!”

Jason’s eyes went wide, and he scrambled to his feet, hurriedly finding his bag to change out of his nightclothes. “Christ, I can’t believe we forgot that (Y/N) was coming home today!” he looked at Dick. “This is your fault.”

“My fault?” Dick yelped. “How is this my fault!”

He scowled. “Big brother wanted everyone to be with a sibling for the night, so they’d be together and be punctual but you and I both know neither of us have any concept of time.” His scowl grew. “I knew I should’ve bunked with Cass. She’s on time no matter what happens.”

Dick threw Jason’s sweatshirt at him. “Dress now, bitch later.” He put the phone back to his ear. “We missed our flight, but we can drive there.”

Your car’s in the shop.

“Shit,” he hissed, spinning in a circle to help his brain circuit enough to think of something new. “Uh-uh-uh—”

“Kyle!” Jason shouted, pointing at him. “Kyle’s like thirty minutes away from Manhattan! We’ll go to him for a ride!”

Dick grinned. “We’ll find Kyle.”

You sure Kyle’s at home?

“Pfft, Kyle’s always home on the weekends. He’s lazy.”

Just get here. (Y/N)’s plane is going to land in less than four hours.

“We’ll be there,” he said. “Is Diana coming too?”

Of course. She is (Y/N)’s mother.

“Nice. Alright, see you in Gotham, Bruce.”

Love you boys. And be careful. I’ve already heard that Cass, Tim, and Steph got into a fender-bender with Damian and Duke.

Dick blinked. “They’re…they’re legitimately driving separate cars? How’d they hit each other?”

Don’t ask.

The line went dead, and Dick looked at his brother. “Ready?”

Jason nodded. “Already got an Uber to Kyle’s place.”

“We could always just Uber to Gotham?” he offered, and Jason recoiled with a shocked look.

“And pay a ridiculous amount of money instead of just paying Kyle’s gas? Fuck no, big brother.” He shoved his wallet and keys into his pockets. “C’mon!” he chirped, rather excitedly. “Our baby sister’s coming home!”

***

When he swung the door open to yell at whoever was pounding on it, he wasn’t expecting to see two of his best friends grinning like idiots. “Wha—”

He’d barely gotten a word out when Jason shoved a bag of fast food in his hands. “Get dressed. You’ve gotta drive us to Gotham City.”

Kyle blinked, glancing down at the bag before looking at Dick. “Why?”

“Our sister’s coming home, and we overslept and missed out flight outta here.”

“And you came to me…why?” he asked.

“Because you have the functioning car.” Jason retorted, antsy on his feet. “C’mon Kyle. We have to hurry! (Y/N)’s coming home!”

Figuring it was better to agree than to argue, Kyle relented, handing back the bag of food before he disappeared into his apartment, reappearing moments later, dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans, a graphic tee, and his usual slim casual jacket. He took the bag back and started digging around in it.

“Who’s (Y/N)?” he inquired, biting into a breakfast burrito as he locked his front door behind him.

“Our baby sister.” Jason said.

“I thought Cass was your baby sister?”

Dick nodded, getting out his own breakfast from the bag. “She is. But (Y/N)’s like…the OG baby sister.”

Kyle blinked, glancing over at him as he pushed the elevator button. “That makes no sense.”

“He means that (Y/N) was around before Cass was.”

“And she isn’t with you guys why?”

“She’s been on Themyscira for the last few years training with her grandmother and the other Amazons.” Jason answered as if it was the most normal thing in the world, stepping onto the elevator.

Kyle merely stared at the two brothers who were looking back at him; he felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. “Wait, your sister’s an Amazon?”

“Yep.”

“Who’s her mom?” he asked, stepping between them.

“Wonder Woman.” Dick said.

Strike two. “Who’s her dad?”

“Batman.” Jason responded.

Believe it or not, Kyle went three for three punches to the gut. “Bruce and Diana had a kid together?”

“Yeah.” Dick murmured. “I think it’s also why B’s so insistent against inter-team-relations.” He nudged Jason behind Kyle. “First time he attempts dating a coworker he ends up with a baby.”

Jason snorted. “And all those lessons about, ‘Children, whatever you do, don’t date anyone on your team. It’ll only lead to babies and limited visitation’.” He laughed again, then he frowned. “I don’t think any of us have followed that lesson.”

Dick opened his mouth to make an excuse but all that came out was a pitiful, deflate of air followed by, “That’s actually a good point.”

The elevator dinged and they watched the doors open before walking out towards the parking garage. They climbed into Kyle’s car, Jason in the front because his legs were longer than Dick’s, and Dick was a contortionist anyways so if anyone deserved to have their knees in their chest, it was him.

Halfway through the drive Kyle asked, “You guys are paying for my gas, aren’t you?”

All he received was unsure responses and he merely sighed.

***

He figured he should’ve just dropped Jason and Dick off at the airport in Gotham and drove home, but he couldn’t help but want to see just what the daughter of Wonder Woman and Batman looked like. He imagined a little girl dressed in a Batman suit three sizes too big and wielding a sword and a lasso way too heavy for her. It made him smile, the way that the two brothers gushed about (Y/N). From their praise, she was their world. Kyle had to see her though, because nothing was going to satiate that curiosity of seeing the big Batman’s daughter.

He watched Dick and Jason crane their necks like birds as they looked around. And honestly, the family shouldn’t have been that hard to find considering that every time Kyle was around the entirety of the Batfamily, they were like psychos on steroids—he very much so understood why the entirety of Gotham’s villains became flighty when every member of the Batfamily was out patrolling.

Kyle wasn’t expecting a voice to crack over the airport, loud and bubbly. “Brothers!”

All three of them stopped, even him who wasn’t even a sibling, looking over towards the call and Kyle’s jaw dropped as a young woman sprinted over to Dick and Jason, slamming into them with the weight of a train. The three of them collapsed into a pile on the floor, but they were laughing so Kyle assumed the siblings were alright.

“Princess!”

“Baby girl!”

“Oh, I am so glad to see you both!” she exclaimed. “I have waited so long to come home!” she was on her feet in moments, pulling them to theirs as if they weighed nothing. And Kyle knew Jason weighed a lot—he’d been crushed under his best friend before in fights.

Suddenly, she stopped and looked over at Kyle who immediately felt his heart lurch under her sharp gaze. “Who is this you have brought?”

Jason gestured to him. “(Y/N) this is Kyle. He’s a friend of Dick and mine. Kyle, this is our little sister, (Y/N).”

She huffed laugh. “I am not little, Jason. I am twenty-one.” Reaching out, she immediately pulled Kyle in for a hug, squeezing him tightly. “It is good to meet you, Kyle.”

“You too,” he murmured, feeling his cheeks warm as she pulled away and placed her hands on his shoulders.

“Any friend of my brothers is a friend of mine.” (Y/N) smiled. “Are you a superhero as well?”

He couldn’t help but toss a quick glance towards Jason who nodded. “Uh, yeah. I’m a Green Lantern.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in wonder, and she let go of his shoulders in favor of grabbing at his hands until she found his ring. She stared at it, murmuring quiet, ‘ooo’s and ah’s’. “That is simply amazing!” she chirped, looking at him, and then she silently gasped, raising his hand near his eyes. “Oh…your eyes are almost the same color as your ring.”

Her smile made Kyle’s heart beat a little faster as she expressed, “They are beautiful.”

They gazed at each other, too captivated in the moment to understand that the family had gathered around them by then. Someone’s hand curled around (Y/N)’s wrist and she looked over seeing Dick tugging her hand away.

“C’mon Princess, let’s go get your things on the belt.”

She smiled and followed, giving a small wave to Kyle, who returned hers shakily whilst grinning like a dope.

Someone elbowed him in the ribs, and he gasped, holding his side as Jason muttered, “Don’t ever stare at my sister like that again.”

Kyle blinked, glancing at him. “What’re you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, you goddamn skirt-chaser.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Kyle spluttered.

“You’re thinking about it.” Jason warned, pointing a finger in his face. “Make a move on (Y/N) and I’ll kill you with your own ring.” Kyle recoiled just as she and Dick were coming back, both holding a suitcase.

“Father!” she called, glancing at Bruce. “Dick and I have retrieved my luggage.”

He smiled at her. “Let’s go put it in the SUV then.” He paused, looking over the large group. He and Diana had ridden together, and since his children had fender-benders, they’d picked up Cass, Tim, Stephanie, Duke, and Damian; there wasn’t room for (Y/N) too.

“Father? Is something the matter?” (Y/N) was staring at him with concern.

“There’s not enough room in the SUV for you too. Maybe we—”

“There’s room in my car for (Y/N)!” Kyle blurted out, smiling nervously at Bruce. “I can follow behind you.”

Before anyone could screech ‘NO!’, mainly Dick and Jason, (Y/N) lit up like the morning sun. “Oh, that is a wonderful idea!” she grabbed onto Diana’s arm. “We should all stop for ice-cream though! Mother, what do you say?”

She smiled at her and leaned over, kissing her head. “I say that sounds like a fantastic idea, daughter.”

Kyle grinned and held out his arm for (Y/N), her giggling as she took it. “You know, I don’t live in Gotham, (Y/N), but I do know a good gelato store around the area.”

“What is gelato?” she asked, and he groaned.

“Oh, I can’t believe you don’t know what that is.” He started off, pilling her along, leaving everyone behind. “Don’t worry, I’ll show you.”

Jason’s face pinched and he looked over at Bruce. “Can I break the no-kill rule just once?”

Bruce blinked, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched his daughter laughing along with Kyle, both looking like newlyweds already. “Believe it or not, I’m strongly considering it.”

“Bruce.” Diana admonished. “Let (Y/N) and Kyle become friends. You know she doesn’t have many outside this family here.”

Dick growled. “Except Kyle doesn’t want to be friends with (Y/N), Diana. He wants to be her boyfriend.”

“They just met though?”

“Yeah, and Kyle’s a propose on week two type of man,” Jason griped. “Jesus Christ, this is going to be a disaster.”

“I don’t know about you guys, but (Y/N) and Kyle said gelato and you guys are just standing here.” Tim said. “Can we go now?”

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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

warmer than cuddles

w/c: 2.4k

warnings: may plays matchmaker and makes some suggestive jokes

prompt: you and peter get caught in the rain and have to share an umbrella

a/n: thank youuu to the angel who requested <3 swear this is my favorite trope to write hehe ☔️

one of the many things you and peter have in common is being lazy. it’s sort of the basis of your friendship. you’re not the kids who drink or party or get in trouble. you play board games and eat pizza on his ripped up couch. the riskiest thing you’ve ever done is sneak into a movie.

peter was so paranoid you’d get caught, he couldn’t even pay attention. he kept whispering to you about paying the whole time. you had to drag him out by his hand after the movie ended. the next time you went to that theater, he bought an extra ticket to “make it even.”

that about put an end to your trying new things phase. you went right back to your comfy nights in pajamas. tackling each other for the remote, baking terrible cookies that you just throw out, sharing a blanket to stay warm. what also helps is that you cuddle under it.

all the fun you need is you, peter, and your love for doing nothing. may disagrees.

she’s always trying to get you two out of the apartment. in her words, it’s “unhealthy for developing teens to spend so much time cooped up inside.” peter once asked which mother’s facebook group she joined. you snickered at that. may gave you a warning look.

well, you don’t have a choice to stay in today. she’s kicking you and peter out because she has guests coming over.

“it’s girl’s night,” may tells the two of you with a satisfied smirk. she hangs her raincoat on the rack and comes into the living room. peter squints his eyes at her. “you have friends?” he sounds too surprised for your liking. you flick his arm hard enough to make him go “ouch!”

“peter, we only have, like, four friends. that’s counting ourselves,” you inform him with a laugh. peter drops his head onto your shoulder. “and i don’t need any of them but you,” he says sarcastically, rubbing his cheek on your sweatshirt. “aw, i know,” you coo and rest your head on his. may crosses her arms and shrugs.

“you should do a group play date with everyone! i haven’t heard from ned in a while,” she suggests, your eyes flicking over to peter. he’s biting back a grin. “play date?” you try to stifle a laugh when you ask. “you know what i mean. a hang out,” may nods at her better word choice. peter winces in protest.

“eh, ned will probably wanna go out somewhere. we don’t do that,” he tells may, like that’s a completely normal thing for a teenager to say. you raise a finger in agreement. she laughs in disbelief at you and peter. you’re splayed out on the couch, on a saturday, complaining about doing anything else.

“you two make me feel young.” may’s words are a joke, but her tone isn’t. “you are young, may,” you reassure her and smile a little. peter says nothing. his eyes become hooded as he settles into you more. “look at you two, like some old married couple,” may gestures to you from where she’s standing. she smiles this time.

peter’s face gets hot from the mention of you being a couple. your heart skips a couple of beats. you’re pretty sure he can tell from how close he is.

“do whatever you want, just not here,” she gets back to the real conversation. peter hides his entire face in your shoulder as a form of protest. you pat his back. “and not each other. unless you’re safe,” may adds. “may, please. no,” he groans out, positive he’s all red now. you blink at her in horror.

may knows what she’s doing. peter isn’t the most subtle person, especially not about liking someone. she’s learned all the signs that her nephew is falling. he’s falling for you. she sees it in you, too. the way your eyes soften when they meet peter’s, how fast you are to hug him back or beam at the silly things he says.

you two spend so much time apart from your other friends, you basically are a couple. you’re just not old or married. the only thing you need is a push to realize that.

“ok, we’re gonna go now,” peter decides and pulls away from you. “god bless,” you say only so he can hear. he chuckles at that, you getting up from the couch. giving him a knowing smile, you grab one of his hands. he lets you pull him to his feet while exhaling. he’s already exhausted. may watches and shakes her head.

peter walks up to give her a quick hug. “enjoy girl’s night. love you,” he murmurs as she squeezes him tight. even though they tease each other a lot, their relationship is really sweet. it’s very telling how a guy treats his mother. well, aunt in this case. that thought has always been in the back of your mind.

“have fun!” you grin at may when her and peter pull apart. he comes back over to you and tugs on your sleeve. “thanks, kids. we’ll be done around eleven,” she lets you know. you’re already getting your shoes on and ready to leave. eleven is a while from now.

“don’t forget an umbrella! it’s drizzling!” may calls after you two. peter grabs hers that’s leaning against the front door. it’s pink with purple polka dots. you giggle at that. “hey, i like pink,” he defends himself and opens the door, letting you out first. you raise your hands in defense, leaving the apartment.

peter waves at may one last time. “good luck, peter,” she tells him once you reach the stairs. he furrows both eyebrows. “good luck with what?” “you’ll see,” may raises her own eyebrows in a way that’s all too familiar to peter. he calls it her face of wisdom.

still confused, peter heads out. he finds you at the bottom of the stairs. you shove your hands in your pockets and push against the door to open it. peter meets you outside, twirling the umbrella between his fingers.

“is there anywhere you wanna go?” he asks as you start to walk. you’re just going down the block for now. “back upstairs,” you sigh out. “i wish. not an option, though,” peter puffs some air out of his cheeks. you fumble to pull up your hood. he easily reaches over and does it for you.

“thanks,” you say quietly. “you’re welcome,” peter pats the top of your head for emphasis. “we could just walk around.” “until eleven o’clock? that’s five hours from now,” you laugh out, adjusting your hoodie to block your face. disappointment crosses over his features.

“should’ve brought my suit,” he mutters mostly to himself. linking your arm with his, your eyes widen. “i’m not trusting you to swing me around in this weather.” his bicep flexes when your arm wraps around his own. “what? i’ve done it before, y/n/n. on patrol.” you turn your head towards him.

“didn’t you get hurt last time?” you already know the answer. “sprained wrist and a few cuts,” he grumbles, you humming because you’re right. he’d called you in tears when he got home, scared he broke something. you reminded him he would heal soon and stayed on the phone until he calmed down.

that ended up being the whole night. you’re probably the most supportive of peter being spider-man. you of course worry about the toll it takes, but you understand why he does it. the least you can do is be there for him while he navigates the superhero world. not talk him out of it or scold him for making mistakes, be there.

that’s why he loves his lazy days with you so much. they’re his break, his escape from what he lies awake worrying about most nights. you’ve seen what he has to go through, so you respect that. whatever he needs to do to unwind is fine by you. as long as you get to do it with him.

“then you couldn’t patrol for weeks. you could barely hold a pencil.” your other arm sneaks around his. they’re both hugging him now. “you had to be my note taker,” peter reminisces, a smile making its way onto his face. “that sucked, man. you’re such a perfectionist about them,” you breathe out.

peter flips the umbrella around in a show-off kind of way. “you don’t complain when i send them to you.” he sounds so cocky you can’t help but roll your eyes. he isn’t wrong, though. “whatever. seriously, where should we go?” “uh,” peter’s eyes scan the block for inspiration. they land on a man carrying takeout.

“dinner? not at a restaurant since we’re in sweats,” he adds the last part so you don’t have to. “ooh, let’s go to panera,” you happily squeeze his arm. peter quirks an eyebrow at you. “you’re always hungry after.” “so? we can get dessert, too. we have a while.” that makes his heart flutter. a while with you.

“cool, cool, cool,” he sings to you, leaning into your side as you walk. you giggle and push at his shoulder. “i think we can make it there before the rain picks up.” there’s a clap of thunder right after he says that, like something out of a movie. it’s followed by a heavier rain coming down on you two. you pull at the strings of your hoodie to keep it tighter on your head.

“jinxed it,” you remark, both of you stopping so peter can open the umbrella. “ugh,” he grunts out. his lower lip is between his teeth while he undoes the velcro. he pushes down and watches as the umbrella springs open for you two. “here, c’mere,” peter welcomes you under as he holds it above your heads.

it doesn’t quite fit you both since it’s only meant for one person. you forgot he took may’s. the two of you have to squish together so you can avoid the rain, which is pitter pattering down hard on the sidewalk.

you’re comfortable under here with him. the freezing cold weather outside of the umbrella is hardly an issue anymore.

peter turns to face you, letting out a breathless laugh. “you can take off your hood now.” your arms slip from around his. you remove it from your head and give him a toothy grin. it’s one that’s meant to be over exaggerated. “there’s that pretty face,” peter’s voice gets quieter. unlike what you did, that wasn’t a joke.

your pretty face loses its smile. you’re suddenly very aware of how close peter is to you.

you can see the faint scar on his chin from when he banged it into a wall in your living room. he’d ran straight into it during your two person game of hide and seek. yes, you still play that. it was gushing blood for half an hour.

there are also the thousands of freckles dotting his face, the ones you only notice by looking at him super hard. you try to count them whenever you get bored. peter stares back at you while you fall in love with every tiny detail about him.

he takes the time to admire your lips, not just because they look really kissable right now. because of every curious expression they press into when he does something you can’t believe. your eyes, that he feels a sense of safety and honesty and familiarity every time he looks into. he finds them and feels like he’s home.

“peter?” you speak up after a few moments. your tone is hesitant, as if whatever you’re going to ask will change what you have forever. that’s because it might. it’s silent except for the sound of the rain hitting his umbrella. peter finally answers, almost in a whisper. “yeah?”

“i... i think,” you clear your throat before going on. his eyes trail down to your lips again, then back up to your twinkling ones. even on a gloomy day like this, they could light up the whole sky. “i think i love you,” you get out, a hand over your racing heart. peter gives you a small but sure nod. “i think i love you, too.”

he takes a step closer to you, if that’s even possible. his hand without the umbrella comes up to hold your cheek. you watch as he uses his thumb to wipe away a few stray rain droplets. your head tilts to the side, lips parted on instinct. peter leans in until his lips just brush yours, letting you decide what comes next.

you choose to close the space between you two. his eyes squeeze shut, whole face scrunched up when he kisses back. this is a release of all the emotions he’s been holding in that he didn’t even realize he had. you slip into a rhythm, using the angle to move your lips against peter’s.

his hand drops from your cheek to your jaw to support you while you kiss. your own hands grab his biceps, fingers pressing into him, depesrate to have him in your arms. peter lets out a content sigh against your lips before detaching them. it’s not for long. he comes right back in after taking a breath.

you get one long peck from him, then another that’s softer than the last. you give him a short kiss back, lips curving into a smile when this one ends. peter’s thumb smooths over your jawline while he searches for your eyes. he grins at you and tightens his grip on the umbrella handle. he’s surprised it didn’t blow away in the midst of your mini makeout.

“i definitely love you, peter,” you state so genuinely, hands on his shoulders now. that has to be peter’s favorite sentence he’s ever heard. the most beautiful combination of words, said by you to him. “i definitely love you, y/n,” peter agrees, punctuating his statement with one last kiss. you haven’t stopped smiling when his lips meet the corner of yours.

may was right about two things that night. you needed the umbrella for that huge storm, but it did more than protect your from the rain. it also brought you and peter together in a way. the second thing she was right about was that peter loves you, and every feeling he has mirror yours for him.

actually, she was right about three things. you two have to get out of the apartment more often.

#tom holland #peter parker #tom holland fluff #marvel #peter parker fluff #spiderman #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker smut #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader

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itsapeterthing · 3 years

Text

Who Am I? || Peter Parker

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

summary: spider-man’s identity is exposed to the world after the death of mysterio. the issue? spider-man has a known relationship with your superhero alias, sorceress, but peter is in a relationship with y/n y/l/n. your identity remains a secret as you are forced to decide to either reveal your identity to the world or to allow your boyfriend to have his reputation tarnished further.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: angst angst angst

masterlist || request || taglist

You stood, shocked, in your bedroom with the television still playing in front of you. For a moment you were unable to move as you watched a photo of your boyfriend, Peter Parker’s face flash across the screen with footage of Spider-man playing alongside it. You always knew the day would come where both you and Peter’s identities would be exposed to the world, but you thought you would be the one to decide when and that you would have so much more time.

Your hands began to shake as you paced your room, picking up your cellphone and dialing your boyfriend’s number. Your identity hadn’t been exposed yet, but you knew there was only a matter of time until there was a decision to be made.

You and Peter had an ongoing relationship that everyone in your shared school knew about. However, it was a known fact across the world that Spider-Man was in a relationship with your superhero alias, Sorceress.

In this moment you were kicking yourself for never realizing that this situation could happen. If they weren’t already, you knew soon enough that people would begin connecting the dots. Peter Parker had you- Y/n Y/l/n- whereas Spider-Man had Sorceress- a woman with an unknown identity. You would either have to come forward and reveal your identity or remain in hiding, allowing the world to believe that you had never known of Peter’s super human abilities and that he had been seeing an Avenger behind your back.

You cursed to yourself as your call went to voicemail, about to call again until you heard banging against the glass of your bedroom window. You rushed across the room, pushing open the window for Peter as he climbed in before you slammed it shut once more.

“What the-” You began.

“Fuck.” Peter cut you off. “Shit. Shit. Shit! What am I going to do, Y/n?”

He began pacing your room, pulling the mask off of his face before tossing it aggressively across your room.

Just then, the phone in your hand began blowing up, buzzing and dinging from texts and direct messages in between phone calls from your family. You knew everyone had started to hear the news.

Silencing your phone and threw it on the bed.

“I- I don’t know, Pete.” You said confused and frustrated. “God, I could just kick that guy’s ass right now. What are we going to do?”

Looking at your boyfriend, you noticed as his eyelids grew red, water brimming on the edge and spilling over them as he tugged at his messy hair. His chest contracted and relaxed rapidly as his breathing quickened and you could hear soft huffs and puffs spilling from his mouth.

Meeting him where he stood in your bedroom, you cupped his face in your hands, pushing your own thoughts aside.

“Peter, look at me.” You told him, searching to meet his eyes. “You need to breathe, baby. We’re going to figure this out, okay? I know this looks bad, but not everyone can believe this, right? You’re Spider-Man. You’ve helped save the world. You’ve never given anyone a reason to believe shit like this because you’re a good person, Pete. They’re gonna have to believe you.”

Watching the tears fall from his eyes and stream down his cheeks, he shook his head, moving his hands out of his hair to instead wrap his arms around you, pulling you tightly against him. Shoving his face into the crook of your neck, you could hear his muffled voice.

“I don’t know what to do.” He sobbed into your skin, his fingers digging into the cloth of your shirt. “It feels like everything goes wrong. F-first Mr. Stark and now this. The world is literally against me, Y/n. I- I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Listening to your boyfriend's soft cries, you rubbed your hand in circles against his back, soothing him.

You swore you could feel your heart shattering in your chest, watching your favorite boy fall apart right in front of you. Although you both had been through a lot- Peter was going through your worst nightmare and had been hit repeatedly back to back to back. You wish you could turn back time and make it right for him just so you could see a smile grace his face once again.

“I’m not going anywhere, Peter.” You whispered. “We’re going to figure this out together-”

Just then, you heard your name announced from the television, your yearbook photo displayed on the screen alongside Peter’s, below it a photo of Spider-Man with his hand rested against Sorceress’ lower back, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Shit.” You cursed to yourself in so low a voice you hoped Peter wouldn’t notice, but he did.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asked pushing himself out of your embrace.

As hard as you tried to hush him and keep him in your arms, he backed away, turning his attention towards the television.

“This just in! Sources confirm that Peter Parker, better known as Spider-Man, has had a long-term girlfriend, Y/n Y/l/n, pictured here since before the Blip! Now, for those of you out there that don’t know, Spider-Man has also been in a relationship with fellow Avenger Sorceress for the past seven months! If you’re keeping up- that’s two women! We’ve been unable to reach Miss. Y/l/n so far for any comments at this time, but fellow classmates have been eager to share their sides of the story.”

“This whole thing is just so crazy.” You watched Betty say on screen. “I thought Peter was so nice, but journalist to journalist- Y/n was way above his league. That’s what’s so shocking! I can’t believe he’d cheat on her like that. I guess being an Avenger really does go to your head.”

“Do you know what this means?” Peter asked suddenly, turning towards you.

Feeling your heart thump in your chest, you furrowed your eyebrows at your boyfriend. “What are you talking about, Peter?”

Pointing at the television he raised his voice.

“Y/n, they don’t think that you’re Sorceress.” He explained to you. “They think that I’ve been seeing the both of you behind your back. You... you can still get out of this. You don’t have to go down with me.”

Staring at your boyfriend’s face, the severity of the situation written all over it, your eyes grew wide.

You understood what Peter meant. You had been given an out by some lucky chance. You could lie and say that you weren’t Sorceress and that you had never known a thing about Peter being Spider-Man. You could lie and pretend that you didn’t know who your boyfriend really was.

You could lie and allow Peter to have his reputation tarnished even further by making him out to be a two-faced cheater.

Shaking your head, you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Peter, I can’t do that.” You told him. “You’re innocent! If I lie and say that I didn’t know anything- that I’m not Sorceress and that you’ve been cheating on me behind my back- then you look guilty. You can try to prove you’re innocent for the whole thing with Mysterio right now because you’ve never given anyone a reason to believe otherwise, but if I let you take the fall for me, Peter, and make you look like a liar and a cheater then that will give them all the more reason not to trust you. It’ll be impossible to change their mind.”

Listening to the words you were saying in disbelief, he pushed his fingers into his hair, tugging hard on the strands and shaking his head.

“Y/n!” He shouted your name. “You don’t think they’ll bring you down with me? If you tell everyone who you are, they’ll think you knew about it the whole time. They’ll think that you knew what I was doing with Mysterio and that you’re just as guilty as me. I can’t ask you to reveal your identity for me just for everyone to turn on you too!”

Flinching from the volume of his voice, a part of you knew that he was right.

You had always wanted to keep your identity a secret to allow you to live a normal life outside of avenging, but seeing Peter’s situation just gave you all the more reason to protect yourself by living a double life.

At the end of the day though, you loved Peter.

You and your boyfriend had chosen each other every day regardless of the hectic lives you both led- sometimes even risking your lives for each other in the process.

Your lives weren’t easy by any means, but you always had each other and promised yourselves that you always would.

“So what?” You asked. “What am I supposed to do, Pete? You think they’re going to stop at you? You don’t think they’re gonna start wondering who’s behind my mask? And God, what kind of life would it be if I kept mine a secret now? I can’t live normally anymore- not when I’m apparently the ex-girlfriend of the Avenger who they think murdered someone. Besides... what? We’d have to see each other in secret from now on so nobody finds out who I am? It’s not worth it, Peter-”

Throwing his hands in the air, he shouted.

“It’s worth if you’re safe, Y/n!” He raised his voice at you once again, before taking a deep breath. “What don’t you get?”

Taken back by his outburst, you both stood there staring at each other in silence.

When you finally reached your hand out for him, you winced as he shied away from your touch.

“I- I’ve lost to many people.” Peter said, his voice nearly a whisper. “I can’t lose you too.”

The way his voice cracked, made your breath catch in your throat as you stared at the broken boy in front of you.

Peter had undeniably lost so much- his parents, his uncle, his mentor- there was no doubt about that and it broke your heart knowing that he worried about losing you too.

Gazing at his tear-stained face- you swore to yourself that he never would. You would do whatever it took to make sure that Peter Parker was never alone.

“I know, Pete. I’m sorry.” You said, slowly stepping towards him. “You’re not going to lose me. I mean, Pete, we went to space and turned to dust for five years and still found our way back to each other. We’re going to figure this out together, Peter. We’re gonna clear your name, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I promise you.”

When the palm of your hand met his rosy cheek this time, he didn’t flinch away, instead nudging his head into your touch.

“I can’t ask you to do this.” He said softly, meeting your eyes.

“I wouldn’t ask you to either, Pete, but you would do it anyway, wouldn’t you?” You asked, brushing your thumb against his cheek.

“Yeah.”

Not being able to help the light chuckle that slipped from your lips, you threw Peter a soft smile.

“I know.” You whispered. “So just... let me do this, Peter.”

Just as Peter opened his mouth to speak, the sound of his phone interrupted him as it began ringing in his pocket. Stepping back from your touch, he pulled the device out from his suit and brought it to his ear.

“What? May, slow down.” He said sniffling. “I’m at Y/n’s.”

Watching as he furrowed his eyebrows, you crossed your arms.

“What?” He asked. “’Check outside her window’?”

Rushing across the room, you pressed yourself against your window, looking down at the street below you. On the sidewalk stood at least a dozen reporters, clamoring outside the door of your building. Eyes growing wide you stepped back, throwing the curtain over the glass.

“Shit.” You muttered to yourself, wringing your hands and turning to look at your boyfriend.

“May, I know.” He said. “I just- let me call you back.”

With that he hung up the phone, slipping it back into his pocket and strode across the room to meet you in your spot. Resting his hands on your arms, he squeezed tightly.

“We don’t have a lot of time.” Peter said meeting your eyes. “I know I can’t tell you what to do, but I want it to be your decision, Y/n. Make sure whatever it is that it’s... that it’s what you want because t-there’s no going back.”

Nodding your head along with his words, your focus shifted from your boyfriend to the dresser in the corner of your bedroom where you kept your suit.

This was it.

You had to make your decision.

You wished more than anything that you had more time, but you knew that you had had enough allotted to you already. You had been given more than any other member of your team and standing there now, you were thankful for every second of it.

No matter what your decision was, your life would change for good from this moment on.

Your heart racing in your chest, you memorized the feeling of your boyfriend's touch and the way his eyes glistened from the tears in his eyes, his cheeks stained red. You remembered the way he smiled when he first saw you again after the Blip and the way he held you so tightly after returning from his trip.

Taking one last, shaky breath you looked up at Peter and nodded.

“I’m ready.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker oneshot #peter parker imagine #peter parker angst #peter parker blurb #peter parker drabble #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman x yn

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luxwritesfanfic · 3 years

Text

On Tap

Sherlock insists that it would work better with the reader on top and after the night they’ve had, there’s no point in arguing. Or, the one where reader plays superhero for poor Greg and her beloved detective. Thanks for reading!

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You hadn’t even taken your shoes off when your phone started ringing in your purse. Sighing, you dug around for it with one hand and reached for the lightswitch with the other. Work had been incredibly stressful since you were working short during flu season and everyone in London had been feeling under the weather apparently. You had told your coworkers that if they really needed you that you would come back even though you had put a solid 16 hours in. Sherlock and John had gone out for John’s bachelor party so you didn’t mind working late, and Bucky was visiting his brother in the States so all your time was truly yours. You had thought about soaking in the bath or catching up on that show you always missed, but all of those thoughts were stopped in their tracks when the ringing persisted.

“Hey, what’s up?” You tried not to sound like you’d rather chew on glass than clock one more minute into the hospital but you weren’t sure you were so convincing.

“Come get him. Please, for the love of God, come get him.” At hearing Greg’s voice, you were both relieved yet confused. Sherlock must’ve invited him last minute to celebrate with them, you didn’t remember him saying that he was coming along.

“Oh, I didn’t know you went out with the boys! Where are you guys?” It was nice to know they were all having a good time. You liked Greg and thought he was a really good friend for Sherlock and John. You had plopped down on the couch and had started pulling one of your shoes off when he said, “No, I didn’t go with them. They were brought to me. Someone called the cops on them and now I’ve got tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum arguing about the solar system and taking turns puking in my waste bin. Please, I beg of you, come get him. Matter of fact, I can bring him home. If that makes the process quicker--- I mean easier.” You heard Sherlock trying to take Greg’s phone in the background, asking to talk to you and then quickly after arguing with John once more if it was really that important he knew they orbited the sun. Greg sounded just as exhausted as you felt and you could only imagine how annoyed he was by the drunk detective that he was already annoyed with most of the time sober.

“Yeah, yeah of course I’ll come get him. I’m actually at my flat though, so if you could meet me at his place that would be awesome. I’d just need a few minutes to finish up here...” You mourned the hot bath you were never going to get to take and worked on shoving the shoe you just took off back on, “did you call Mary for John?”

“Yes, she’ll be over soon. As soon as she gets here, I’ll bring Sherlock. You’re doing the Lord’s work, thank you.” With that, he hung up and you went to your room to pack an overnight bag. You were exhausted and if you had to go all the way to Sherlock’s, it would be easier for you to crash on the couch than to try to come back home late.

By the time you got to Sherlock’s, you were dragging your feet up the stairs and you could barely keep your eyes open. You had received a text from Mary when she picked John up saying “good luck” and you wished you knew what you were walking into. You had never seen Sherlock drunk, or heard any stories of him being drunk, but you were sure he was even more eccentric than he was sober. If you weren’t so tired, you’d be jumping with joy at the experience to see Sherlock so out of character.

You went into Sherlock’s room and laid out some pajamas for him and went ahead and put a water bottle and some Advil on his nightstand because you were sure he would need it. After doing that, you changed into something more comfortable too and rummaged through his fridge to see if there was anything to eat. Thumbs, unsalted butter, and milk that shouldn’t look like blue cheese was what was on the menu and you had decided sleep for dinner sounded much more appetizing. You’d go shopping for him tomorrow.

Greg had texted that he was outside but Sherlock didn’t have his key so you made your way down the steps to meet them. Upon opening the door, Sherlock looked up at you like he hasn’t seen you in ages. He stumbled towards you and held you at arms length with a look of wonder on his face. “Finally! Y/N, I was thinking I’d die from being surrounded by total stupidity, and here you are. Ever the shining light and the beacon of hope.”

You felt the heat from his stare and turned to Greg to try and keep your composure under all his attention. “Uh.. I— thank you. For bringing him home.”

Still staring at Sherlock and shocked by his outburst, Greg met your eyes with a knowing smile. “It’s no trouble. He’s your problem now. Good luck, my dear.” He was gone in the blink of an eye, leaving you with a very drunk Sherlock Holmes and a dozen steps to climb.

“Okay,” you clapped your hands together, turning towards the door, “do you think you can get up the stairs? Or do you want me to help you?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” he started until his eyes widened like he forgot who he had been talking to. It had only been a second but he saw the look that flashed across your face. You hated when he made you feel dumb because you always tried so hard to keep up with him, and he knew that. You didn’t have a chance to react before he quickly interrupted. His previous statement was immediately followed by, “I’m sorry. Forgive me. Please help me.”

You just nodded, unsure of what made him have such a quick change of heart but you were happy he did. You hated him thinking you were dumb. In comparison to him, maybe, but you were intelligent in your own right and you did a better job of keeping up with him than most. He threw his arm around your shoulders to steady himself and allowed you to lead him carefully up the stairs. He started telling you about his night and it honestly sounded like he had a great time, and so did John. You were really happy that it all worked out even if they did end up with Greg at the end of it all.

As soon as the back of Sherlock’s legs hit his chair, he was down in a clean swoop and you took the opportunity to start untying his shoes. He seemed like he was lost in thought and was quiet for a few moments but you could tell from the way he was swaying that he was too far gone to sober up before the morning.

“I already put your clothes out for you and I’ll help you to the bathroom so you can brush your teeth. You’ll love me for that in the morning.” You smiled at him as you pulled off his loafers and moved to stand up so that you could figure out how you were going to get him out of his chair.

“Will I, though? Will I tomorrow once I’m in my right mind?” He asked, and while he didn’t say it in an ignorant tone, it sounded like Sherlock, and that was close enough.

You looked at him hoping he’d say something else. But he didn’t, and he looked back at you with a look of confusion as if he was really expecting you to answer that. It seemed like just last week he was in your bed trying to convince you that he didn’t have eyes for anyone besides you and now he’s reminding you that he’s not even sure of that. Sherlock could have you at the top of the poll and then have you kissing the ground in the same hour if he tried.

“It’s just a saying. I didn’t really mean...you know, let’s— let’s just get you to bed. It’s late and you have a date with a hangover in the morning.” You could tell he was on the verge of passing out which was good in the way of no more awkward conversations but horrible in that you’d never get him into bed as dead weight. So you pushed things along and eventually got him in bed before he was out like a light.

Draping the blanket over him, you watched as his eyes fluttered behind his lids and how his lips twitched as fell into a deeper sleep and you were sure then that you would never love anyone more. You would never understand how he didn’t realize how beautiful he made the ordinary and how easily he made everything extraordinary. Afraid that you’d turn to stone if you spent any more time staring at him, you turned off his light and made your way to the living room where the the couch had never looked more inviting. It didn’t take you long to get settled in and asleep seeing as the TV in the background ended up being the perfect thing to mask Sherlock’s drunk snores and you had never been more tired in your life.

—

“I thought you were staying over?”

It had only been a few hours since you had put Sherlock to bed when he found himself looking over you on the couch, wrapped up in his bedsheet.

“M’right here.” You murmured into the pillow, body still turned away from Sherlock on the couch. He was probably still drunk and you were hoping if you laid still enough he’d wander back to bed.

He didn’t respond to you, instead he continued to stand and stare with his lips pursed and brows furrowed. You had drifted back off only to be nudged awake once more.

“I won’t fit like that.” He gestured with the hand not holding the sheet to the couch, sounding exasperated like he had been explaining this to you all night. “It’ll only work if you’re on top, so get up so I can lie down first.”

You didn’t process what he said really, you just knew that if he was being persistent and you didn’t do as he asked he’d never let you go back to bed. You squinted as your eyes adjusted to the light and swung your legs off the couch, standing on stiff bones. Sherlock immediately made to get comfortable on the couch while you stood dazed and confused and he cleared his throat expectantly when he had finally got settled. He was on his back with one arm holding the sheet up between himself and the back of the couch allowing room for you to climb over and snuggle right into him.

All you could do was blink and hold his stare as he waited expectantly, still holding the sheet for you. You didn’t think he was asking you to lay with him, especially with how close you’d two be. Sure, you shared your bed before, but there was always enough room for you both to have your own space. You could tell he was getting embarrassed by your reaction, or lack there of.

“I didn’t think this would be rocket science, even for someone like you.” His nervousness was showing as he yanked his arm back down and curled into to himself like a child. You jumped into action so you wouldn’t upset him any more and shook his shoulder as you whined, partially from exhaustion and from missing the chance to sleep next to him.

“I’m tired, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize what you were asking. Come on, open up. Let me in.” You continued to shake at his shoulder until he looked back at you. He looked wrecked from drinking all night and you knew this bout of sobriety wouldn’t be as easy on him in the morning but you were sure he looked holy.

Sherlock reluctantly brought his arm up again and you wasted no time sliding under the sheet and tucking yourself under the crook of his arm. He smelled like beer and mouthwash and Sherlock and you thought you were going to go into cardiac arrest when he brought his arm back down on you, subsequently pinning you down to him. It was definitely a tight fit especially since the couch barely fit Sherlock but you had decided that if you had the opportunity to sleep with him like this every night that you would. Back pain be damned.

The steadiness of his heartbeat was already working you back to sleep. Sighing content, you let your body fully relax and sink further into him.

“You never answered my question.” He shifted next to you and kept you close to him all the same, his head leaning to rest on yours.

“Hmm?” You made an incoherent sound, your breath evening out as you fell asleep.

“My question,” he whispered more so to himself as he worked it out in his head. The feelings he found himself harboring for you were ones he had never felt before. He thought so highly of you in a way he couldn’t understand even if he wasn’t the best at expressing it. You were patient with him when he got on your last nerve and was amazed by him when other people would tell him to piss off. You were always kind and warm and made him feel human even after he spent so long separating himself from his feelings. He couldn’t stand the idea of you looking at anyone else the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

So yes, he thought. Yes, he would love you in the morning. He’d love you when you’re angry with him for putting himself at risk during a case and he’d love you when you were overly tired and petulant after he made you stay up all night to keep him company in the lab. He loved that you valued him regardless of what he offered you, and that you always showed him that even if he never reciprocated it. You were never embarrassed by him, you always tried to learn about what he was interested in, and you never doubted him even when he was wrong.

Girlfriends weren’t naturally his area... but he didn’t think he would mind if it was you. He liked being close to you and physical touch wasn’t something he had sought out often before. He found that he chased the opportunity to be near you at all times. He thought you looked lovely in scrubs and a lab coat and even lovelier in your everyday wear, even if you considered it plain. He had begun to notice the way other people stared at you when you walked by and it left him with the most unsettling feeling. But then you’d smile at him and despite himself he’d smile right back and he wondered if anything in the world mattered to you besides him. Because in those moments, nothing mattered to him besides you.

Sherlock woke up alone again the next morning with the worst headache he’d ever had. Light was shining through the curtains and he cursed the sun for rising another day as he covered his eyes and groaned. Peaking through his fingers, he saw that the Advil and water had been moved to the coffee table for him and when he reached out for it he noticed the note on the table. He sat up with one hand gingerly holding his head as he read it.

“Got called into work to help the girls. John and Mary are coming over for lunch, so text me what you want me to bring home. We can’t serve our best friends buttered thumbs for lunch. I’ll see you soon!

-Y/N xx”

He held the note in his hand, contemplating what his next move would be. You were interested in him, that he knew for sure. He’d contemplated casually mentioning to everyone that you were dating, but he technically hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend and you two had never talked about any mutual feelings. Maybe he’d kiss you when walking you to your taxi, but he knew he’d make you stay with him instead of letting you go home. Possibly tonight when you were laying in his bed he’d tell you it had to be you, it could only ever be you.

Leaning back against the couch, he rubbed at his eyes and decided he’d call John over early and he’d help him sort it out. John always helped him. Standing up was harder than it looked apparently, as Sherlock wobbled to the side and fought the urge to puke. Perhaps he should shower first, surely you wouldn’t say yes to being his if he didn’t look his best.

He remembered how he looked and acted last night and winced. On second thought, maybe you would. You had already given yourself to him for better or for worse and soon enough, he smiled, he would give you himself in return.

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harksness · 3 years

Text

Midnight

Gwen Stacy x Reader

A/N: Okay so I promised to write this/wrote it before I went mia from this blog for the fattest of minutes and I have no clue why I didn't just post it. I think it's bc I didn't like it at the time, but now that I reread it I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. So I hope you enjoy this dusty Gwen x Reader I dug out of the pit of hell that is my drafts!! Also, I'm working on chapter 3 of No Longer Yours and it'll be out soon I promise!!! I've just been so busy!!

Summary: Gwen had a rough night out on patrol and she needs her girlfriend to ground her.

Masterlist

Word Count: 1,320

Warnings: None

You've always been a light sleeper. So, when you felt your bed dipping next to you, it startled you awake. Initially, you freeze. Waiting for the stranger to do something, your heart is pounding in your chest. With your brain still foggy from sleep, you roll over quickly, the sheets tangling around your waist. You don't know what you were hoping to accomplish with that.

“It’s alright, it’s just me.”

Immediately you recognize your girlfriend's voice, and you feel yourself let out a breath that you had been holding, the tension leaving your body. You blindly reach out as you blink the remnants of sleep from your eyes until you feel her arm, then proceed to give it a soft, lighthearted smack.

“Jesus, Gwen! You scared the ever loving crap outta me!”

You exclaimed, your voice still slurred from sleep. You suddenly sense the tense air surrounding her. She stays silent, staring out the window and into the night sky. That’s when you notice your apartment window is still cracked open from her entry. The cool night air drifts into the warm room, and it feels nice against your overheating skin. That’s when you remembered- Gwen only comes in through the window like this after a bad night. Like, a really bad night. Like, someone died or got seriously injured sorta night. You feel your heart tighten at the realization.

You sat up, scooting a bit closer to her. You slowly raised your hand and rested it on her shoulder. Her suit is still on, her hood bunched up at the base of her neck. You squeeze her shoulder comfortingly. When she didn’t protest, and she never does, you brought up your hand and began combing your fingers through her soft, blonde locks. Gwen only continued to look out the open window, and at that moment a gentle breeze came through and danced with her hair.

“What do you need, baby?”

You asked softly, gently. Once again you moved your hand to her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. You wanted to remind her that you’re here, that you’ll always be here for her. Gwen’s gaze shifted to her lap where her hands rest and you follow her eyes, finding her mask clutched tightly between her gloved fingers.

“I just need you.”

She finally spoke. Your heart aches at how broken she sounds. She turns her head to look at you, those stunning blue eyes of her finally meeting yours. Concern etched across your features at the ruined look in her eyes. Your heart aches again. All you want to do is hold her and protect her from the world- let someone else be Spider-Woman. Let someone else save the day. All you want is for Gwen to be okay, and she can't be okay with the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“You have me, Gwen. I’m right here.”

She shifted so that she was facing you, one hand bracing herself on the bed, and the other coming up to cradle your cheek. Gwen pulled you towards her, and you didn’t resist. You didn’t want to. Her lips met your own, desperate and needy. It knocked the wind right out of you. You did your best to return the kiss, but still, drowsiness slowed your thoughts and your movements. You leaned forward, tangling your hand in her hair as she slipped her tongue into your mouth.

She pulled back abruptly, and you took a moment to catch your breath.

“God, I’m sorry. I come in here in the middle of the night and wake you up, then just grab your face and just shove my tongue down your throat? I’m so stupid.. I should’ve asked you if it was okay. I shouldn’t have woken you up, you need your sleep. I’m sorry.”

She sighed, dragging her hands down her face in embarrassment. You grab one of her still gloved hands and shake your head.

“Never apologize, Gwen. I’m here when you need me. I’ll always be here... And I could never turn down a makeout session with my extremely hot girlfriend. I love your kisses, Spider-Woman.”

You smile playfully at her, with your fist still tangled in her hair, you bring her face closer to yours and simply rub your nose against hers lovingly. She smiles softly in return, a quiet laugh falling from her lips.

“What would I do without you?”

Gwen smiled, and you smiled back.

“You would be so lost."

"I would be."

She says quietly, her smile turning soft as she looks at you with eyes full of love. You lean in and leave a kiss on her forehead.

"Even though you look really good in that suit, it's time for bed. And I'd prefer that you don't sleep in that thing."

Gwen hums approvingly as you get up from the bed and make your way to your closet, the moonlight illuminating the room in grays and whites, only tints of color. Giving you just enough light to clearly search through your closet.

"I love wearing your shirts more than this thing, anyways. I love wearing your shirts more than anything, actually."

You grin at her words as you find a ratty old grey t-shirt. Hopefully this one will do.

You turn around just as she’s bending over to shimmy the suit off of her feet. You can’t help but admire how good she looks- the moonlight hitting her back makes her look radiant. She's so beautiful and stunning, in moments like these you can't help but be in awe that she's even real.

“My eyes are up here.”

She wiggles her eyebrows at you and you feel your face flush. You clear your throat and laugh it off.

“You’re too observant, I never get to secretly oggle you.”

You pout and she laughs as she folds her suit and stuffs it into her backpack. Her laugh makes you relax a bit, happy that she’s starting to become a little more normal.

“Here, catch.”

You interrupt before she can say anything else. You throw the shirt at her, and she catches it with her amazing reflexes. She holds it out in front of her and studies it for a moment, a slight pout now making its way onto her lips. She’s so cute.

“I want to wear your Fall Out Boy shirt, it’s my favorite.”

You throw yourself back into bed, bouncing slightly as you do so before getting under the blankets.

“It’s dirty, gorgeous. You’ll have to make do with this one.”

Now you’re the observant one, because you notice a hint of red on her cheeks as she slips the shirt over her head. You smile to yourself, happy to have been able to successfully fluster her.

She slips under the covers next to you, and you open your arms. Gwen scoots in closer, and she rests her head on your shoulder, bringing up her hand to rest on your chest. You bury your nose in her hair and kiss the top of her head as you wrap your arms around her. You feel her relax in your embrace, a soft sigh leaving her lips.

She’s safe here, in your bed, in your arms. She can drop all of the stress of being a superhero at the door and pick it up again in the morning. Moments like these are her only bits of peace amongst the chaos, the only thing that keeps her sane and grounded. She really doesn’t know what she would do without you. You’re an angel, and she doesn’t understand how she got so lucky.

After a moment of silence, Gwen says your name softly.

“Yes, dear?”

You whisper into the roots of her hair.

“Thank you for always being here for me.”

She says, even softer than before. You smile, running your thumbs against her skin.

“Of course. I’ll always be here when you need me.”

#gwen stacy x reader #mcu #marvel #marvel movies #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfic #spider-verse #marvel wlw #wlw x reader #wlw reader inserts

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watercolorfreckles · 3 years

Text

Thanks for the Ride - Part 2

Part 1 Here

TW: asthma attack, slight angst, mention of blood and sc*rs

((Civilian’s name is now Kaira. Villain doesn’t have one yet.))

Kaira pushed open her apartment door and stepped inside. A flurry of snowflakes gusted in after her, dusting the welcome mat in her entryway as she shoved the door shut. She shivered and slid her boots off, shrugging off her coat next and hanging it up. She leaned heavily against the door to catch her breath, digging her inhaler out of her pocket and taking two puffs.

It had been a month since the incident, and she was left without a vehicle right as the weather turned frigid and biting. Just her luck, as well, that cold air triggers asthma. Kaira coughed and wheezed her way to the kitchen, putting the kettle on to make herself some eucalyptus tea. Her doctor had recently told her that it might help alleviate some of her symptoms. Still struggling to breathe, she dropped herself into a chair at the kitchen table, squeezing her eyes shut. She tucked the inhaler back into her pocket without opening her eyes.

Kaira stayed there until the kettle squealed, forcing her lead-heavy limbs to get up and finish making her tea. She took a few sips though they scalded on the way down, and bent down to scoop some of her cat’s food into her bowl. She coughed and took another sip of tea, shaking the bowl a bit as she ventured further into the apartment. “Missy! Here, kitty.”

No response. That’s odd… Her stomach sank as she realized the tv was on in her bedroom. The muffled chatter and buzz were unmistakable. Had she forgotten to turn it off before going to work?

She padded across the space, inching closer to the bedroom--though it was barely any use trying to be quiet. The ragged wheezing noises probably gave her away rather unceremoniously. Finally approaching the door and just about to cross the threshold, her cat hopped down in front of her, startling a yelp out of Kaira. The mug and food bowl in her hands crashed to the floor.

Kaira slapped a hand over her face, heart pounding all over again. “Missy. What did I do to deserve that?” she mused between strained breaths.

She picked the remote up off of the dresser, lifting it to turn the screen off when she noticed what was playing on the news, and listened. More about the villain. The media coverage was constant, barely wavering since the villain’s “death” a month prior. The city clung to the hero’s victory, celebrating with parties and rallies and parades and barbeques. “Superhero finally managed to inject Supervillain with a revolutionary new toxic serum that drained his powers away and rendered him helpless. Superhero triumphed over the monster and fulfilled his duty in keeping our city safe! The crime rate perpetrated by powered individuals has decreased significantly as they all now live in fear of the hero’s new bioweapon. Let’s hope they stay underground where they belong.”

“The thing about Hero’s little serum,” a second voice cut through the silence, making Kaira jump and whirl around, “is that its effects are temporary. Poison a villain, take his powers, incapacitate him, kill him while he’s down. It’s quite the cowardly approach, don’t you agree, Kaira?”

Kaira froze in place like prey, staring at the villain sprawled out casually on her bed. He lifted a hand and lightning crackled over his palm like a second skin. Her mouth had gone unbearably dry and all she could do was stare and try to squash down the harsh rasps of her wheezing.

Villain flashed a smile, looking thoroughly pleased with himself as he sat up, leisurely. “Your firstborn and I have gotten acquainted.” He wiggled his fingers and made kissy sounds, drawing the orange tabby closer to him.

Kaira inhaled sharply and took a step closer, freezing again at the look Villain cut her as he scooped Missy into his lap. “Do you truly think I would harm your cat?” He tsked. “You must truly think me a monster.”

She swallowed again but it did nothing to aid the dryness scratching her throat. “How-How do you know where I live?” she whispered.

Villain stroked Missy’s back, who purred and curled up on his lap. “You had some bills in your glove compartment--your insurance is overdue, by the way. You might want to pay that.” His lip curled in a teasing smile though his gaze rested intent and unwavering upon her.

Panicked, she fished her inhaler out of her pocket without taking her eyes off of him, inhaling a third puff. “I...I haven’t told anyone about you. I swear I haven’t. I-I didn’t even want to raise questions about where you left me, so...I didn’t call a cab until I, um, walked back to the main road. No-Nobody knows what happened, or that you’re alive, I promise.”

The villain hummed, straightening all the way.

Kaira’s gaze flicked down to his torso where she could see a deep red seeping through his shirt. “You’re...bleeding.”

“And you’re the only one who knows I’m alive, so. Do be a dear and bring me a first aid kit?” His smile widened, all amusement for now.

Kaira blanched and stepped toward the door when Villain lifted a finger to halt her. “Ah-ah, better have you toss your phone over to me first. The best relationships are built on trust, you know?” he purred, blatantly relishing in the glow of pink that spread over Kaira’s freckled cheeks.

She pulled her cellphone out of her other pocket and tossed it onto the bed, waiting for his nod of approval before staggering wide-eyed into the kitchen to fetch her first aid kit.

Oh my gods, oh my gods, the villain is in my house, oh my gods…

Kaira’s hands shook as she returned, easing herself lightly onto the edge of the bed beside him. She gingerly lifted her cat off of him and set her back onto the floor. “You’re bleeding on my bed,” she murmured. She carefully reached for his shirt and flushed red. “Um...can I?”

The villain grinned, wolfish. “Wishing to undress me so soon? By all means.”

Kaira spluttered, floundering briefly before reaching forward again, unbuttoning the bottom half of his shirt. No need to expose more of his chest than necessary, especially after that comment. Wow, he has a lot of scars…

She traced a finger featherlight over one of the pale slices of skin. When she realized what she was doing, her gaze snapped up to meet his. His laser focus made her feel like a bug splayed on a corkboard. “S-Sorry....” She looked away and opened up the first aid kit and gently examined his bloody wounds. “It...looks like you need stitches...is that okay?”

“Ah, what’s a couple more scars. Just clean them and bandage me up.” Kaira could feel the sudden electricity sparking the air as the hair on her neck stood on end. He smiled prettily, though his eyes were sharper, edging on dangerous. “Please.”

Kaira nodded quickly. “O-Okay, yes. Sure. No need to get, um...zappy.” She smoothed down a few pieces of hair that had been suspended by the static thick in the air like smoke. The energy released suddenly once she agreed, expelling like a popped balloon.

She released a breath through her teeth and got to work with trembling hands. “If nobody knows you’re alive, then who hurt you?”

Kaira jumped as the villain brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. “Sorry, dear, I don’t kiss and tell.”

Her face burned all over again and she avoided his gaze, focusing on the task at hand. When she was done, the villain abruptly stood and crowded close, stealing the breath from her lungs.

Villain bracketed her in place with an arm against the bed on each side of her. “Thanks for the patch job.” He flashed another predatory smile, eyes twinkling, and dangled her car keys in front of her face. “Care to give me another ride, dear?”

Part 3

Thank you for reading!

Tiny taglist: @writing-on-the-wahl , @ vlerlove , @valiantlytransparentwhispers. If anyone wants to be added, let me know :)

#writing #creative writing #civillian x villain #hero x villain #writing snippet #flash fiction #my writing #supervillain

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