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sinditia · 2 years

Note

For the drabble thing 37 for Starker if you can make it fit?

thank you for the prompt!

37 - "Will you say something or just keep staring at me?"

StarkerFestivals Summer Bingo 2022 - Chair Sex

Summary: A training mishap at the Avengers compound between Iron Man and Spider-man has the spidey-suit ripped at a very... unfortunate and intimate part. Tony can't help but make use of the sudden accessibility he has to certain part of Peter's anatomy.

Based on the insanely talented @anonoite 's nsfw art found here (private acct)

Word count: 2.6k

“Can’t I just change?”

“Hang on, Peter, I’ll just take a second.”

Tony does not just take a second. It’s excruciating, prolonged minutes of Peter seated on a counter in Tony’s lab at the Avengers compound with the older man himself on a chair in front of him in between Peter’s spread knees, face uncomfortably close and attention laser-focused onto the younger man’s crotch area.

It’s so embarrassing. It didn’t even happen in an actual combat situation. He was in the middle of sparring with Iron Man out on the compound’s training field, having a grand old time, totally not being distracted by how insanely hot Iron Man looks flying around in the suit. Then one of his webs got seared off by a repulsor blast and Peter hits the ground hard, skidding on the gravel, taking off a good chunk of his brand-new spidey-suit in a very unfortunate part.

A massive tear, starting from just under his balls all the way up to where his ass crack begins on his lower back. Most of the hole is concealed from view with Peter sitting on the counter. But the hole reaches forward just enough that there is a bared sliver of skin high up on his inner thigh, the visibility – and current proximity – of which to a certain inventor-engineer Peter is very hyperaware.

Tony pokes and prods at the edges of the ripped fabric, examining the nature of the tear with scientific inquisition. “I get the concept of having multiple suits. My basement will tell you that. But I already made you the nanotech one. Upgrades are supposed to go up, kid. It’s in the name. What was the point of making this suit?”

Peter huffs. “It was an emergency situation. I was in Europe. I didn’t have the nanosuit handy and all I had to make a new suit was an airplane lab. Your airplane lab, based on materials you designed. So if anything, it’s kind of your fault that I’m-”

Tony looks up at him, eyebrow raised.

Peter’s gut warms at the older man’s expression. It takes all his willpower to stop his cock from twitching right under Tony’s chin. “Nope, yeah. My fault. It’s all my fault,” Peter says weakly, turning his gaze up to the ceiling to avoid combusting alive under that eye-contact. Fuck, why did he make his suit so skin-tight that any kind of… swelling would be immediately noticeable? And why did he decide to wear this suit instead of the nanosuit today? Fuck his life.

Tony sighs, putting his hands on Peter’s knees. The man must have inched even closer to Peter’s spread open legs because he can feel the rush of warm breath on the skin bared from the suit’s rip. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad,” he says, “I’m just concerned. Good thing this happened during training and we can fix it. If this had happened in a real battle…”

Peter shrugs. “I’d probably be fine. Super-healing, remember? I don’t need a suit to protect me.”

Tony chuckles. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that not-so-subtle jab at me.” Peter was about to quickly insist that’s not what he meant, but Tony continues, “but I was more talking about how I don’t want any supervillains seeing you like this, ass out all on display. Them or any of the other Avengers who’d happen to be there. Or anyone, really. I’d gouge all their eyes out.”

Peter’s heart thuds and he chances a glance down at Tony. The older man still seems to be closely inspecting the rips in his suit. And he said that last bit so casually, like the idea of someone else’s eyes on Peter’s… intimate parts was a violently punishable crime. Peter doesn’t know why it makes it feel so hot under the neckline of his suit, but he likes how possessive Tony sounds.

Because there’s eyes on him right now. Dark eyes that seem to be focused on the tear in the suit, but could just as easily be fixated on the bare skin the tear is revealing.

“You’re seeing me like this,” Peter points out quietly.

Those dark-brown eyes flick up to meet his. “Only ‘cause you’re letting me.” Tony’s hands on Peter’s knees increase in pressure. “You could easily overpower me. Why don’t you?”

“I-” Peter feels himself yield readily, legs opening further under Tony’s touch. The man is right. Peter has held up the weight of a collapsed warehouse on his shoulders but he can’t resist the gentle pressure of Tony’s hands. Peter has jumped, swung, free-fallen at unimaginable heights but he’s never been as breathless as he is now, with Tony so close, looking up at him, unmistakeable desire in his eyes.

“Will you say something or just keep staring at me?” Tony smiles, thumbs rubbing circles on Peter’s knees. “What are you thinking?”

“I want you to see me like this. I want-” his breath hitches and Tony finally moves his fingers to touch his skin directly, “-want only you to see me like this.”

Tony’s smile widens. “Good boy.”

Peter gasps when he feels Tony’s mouth on him through the thin fabric of the spidey-suit, kissing softly, gently. That mouth Peter’s been obsessed with for so long, so full of snark and genius, now stokes his obsession even more as it makes its way up his legs, as clever and unstoppable as the man’s incredible brain, until-

“Unh, Mr. Stark…” Peter gasps, squirming on the counter as soft lips and prickly facial hair finally touch directly onto the bare skin revealed by the suit’s tear.

Tony tilts his face to look up at him, head turned just so that its resting on Peter’s thighs. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No! I… I just-” Peter’s heart stutters at the sight of Tony’s eyes from this angle, wide and framed with thick lashes. How can a man look so sexy and so endearing at the same time? Peter is fully, achingly hard now, unmistakeable at this proximity. “I want it. I want you. You can do whatever you want to me.”

If possible, Tony’s eyes darken even further. “I’ll hold you to that,” he murmurs before descending right between Peter’s legs, mouthing, kissing, licking at where his balls meet his perineum.

Peter shudders with a gasp, the sudden onslaught of pleasure on his sensitive skin taking hold of his body. His cock twitches helplessly where it’s still flimsily covered by the ripped edge of his suit. As Tony slips his fingers under the torn fabric, tugging it upwards, his mouth follows the course. And when a warm tongue swirls a wet path up Peter’s shaft, the younger man comes with a surprised cry.

Tony pulls away as Peter sits there panting. They both glance at the wet spot growing on the spidey-suit.

“Whoops,” Peter chuckles weakly, embarrassed.

Tony grins. “And just when I thought you couldn’t ruin this suit any further.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” Peter grumbles. He hops off the counter and climbs onto Tony’s lap, straddling him. Their lips meet in a hungry kiss. Peter can feel the older man’s hard-on beneath him and he instinctively rolls his hips, grinding against it, taking satisfaction in the way Tony groans at the stimulation.

Tony kneads Peter’s ass, his kiss growing hungrier. His hands grip the frayed edges of the suit’s tear over Peter’s backside and pulls, widening the rips with the sound of rending fabric.

“Oh fuck,” Peter moans, exceedingly aroused at the strength of Tony’s desire for him. It’s the most powerful he’s ever felt, knowing that he’s making someone like Tony Stark feel this way.

“Can’t wait anymore, baby,” Tony growls. “Come on, get that ass on me.”

Peter sits up on his knees, both hands on the older man’s broad shoulders. Face flushed warm, he watches Tony lift his hips just enough to yank the bottom half of his under-armour suit down his legs. The movement makes Tony’s triceps flex attractively under the skin-tight fabric of his shirt and Peter, with no small amount of arousal, admires just how powerfully built Tony is. Peter wants to see all of him. All that skin over that all that chest, the scars where the arc reactor used to sit, the trail of hair that leads down to-

Peter lets out an involuntary whimper at the sight of Tony’s cock, hard and ready for him. He reaches for it on instinct, giving it a few gentle strokes.

“Oh fuck, kid, you’re killing me here,” Tony groans. “Need to feel you.” He starts looking around, a little frantic.

“What is it?” Peter asks, placing nipping kisses on Tony’s jaw as he continues to jack him off slowly.

“Need lube. I have some in my bag but it’s-”

Peter spots Tony’s duffle bag at the far corner of the lab and activates the web-shooter on his free hand, pulling the bag towards them by the web’s strand until it skids to a stop at their feet.

“God, you’re amazing,” Tony laughs, kissing Peter once more.

They grind together as they make out, with Peter’s hand still moving on Tony’s cock. There’s a bit of rummaging, then thick, slicked up fingers find Peter’s ass, sliding in with delicious ease.

“Oh God, Mr. Stark,” Peter breathes heavily, feeling himself clench and unclench at the intrusion.

Tony hums, fingering him. “You have no idea what you calling me that does to me. Lots of people call me ‘Mr. Stark’, but when you do it…,” Tony crooks his fingers against a spot that makes Peter moan, “it drives me fucking crazy. Makes me think things I’m not supposed to. We’d be in an Avengers meeting and you’d call me that in front of everyone and all I’m thinking is how gorgeous you’d sound calling me that in bed.” Another finger finds its way into Peter’s hole, stretching him out even further.

“Mmm, Mr. Stark…”

“Yeah, like that. Exactly like that.”

Peter grips the back of Tony’s neck, staring straight into the man’s eyes. “Mr. Stark,” he says breathily, loving the way Tony’s pupils visibly dilate at that. “I want you to fuck me.”

An animalistic growl reverberates from deep in Tony’s chest and he slips his fingers out of Peter’s hole, batting the younger man’s hand off his cock so he can direct it right up against Peter’s sloppy wet rim.

Peter gasps his way through that first push, feeling stretched so open then full, so full. His eyes almost roll back with it, the way Tony turns him out so good.

“You alright?” Tony asks, sounding almost as breathless as Peter feels.

“Yeah,” Peter pants, closing his eyes, forehead pressed to Tony’s. He rolls his hips experimentally, seating himself more comfortably on that stretch.

“You take me so well,” Tony murmurs, hands caressing down the younger man’s back to massage the globes of his ass. “Always knew you would.

Overcome with desire, Peter starts bouncing desperately on Tony’s cock, moaning, wanting it closer, deeper, but the older man grips his waist and stills the movements.

“Slow down, baby, let me enjoy this snug little ass.”

Peter lets out a breathless whine. “Please, Mr. Stark, I can’t- let me-”

Tony makes soft shushing noises, spreading Peter’s ass cheeks, grinding himself deeper between them. “Take pity on an old man, baby. Ride me nice and slow.”

“You’re not old,” Peter scowls, but he tries to do as the man says, lifting himself up slowly, feeling that infuriating slick drag Tony’s girth leaves on his sensitive insides before sliding back down.

Riding Tony’s cock is definitely Peter’s number one favourite activity now. He quickly sinks into a nice rhythm, mind growing blissfully fuzzy as his body instinctively takes over like it knows what to do, like it’s always known how to take pleasure from riding Tony Stark’s cock.

Tony grips Peter’s hips and adjusts his angle slightly, so that his cock grinds right up against his prostate with every thrust.

“Feel that? That’s good, right?”

“Yeah,” Peter moans, rolling his hips just there, right there. One hand on Tony’s chest and the other gripping the back of his neck, Peter nuzzles into the older man’s cheek, wanting closeness, wanting to kiss though he’s too breathless to do so.

Tony makes low, grunting, pleased noises. “That’s it. You’re doing great, kid. Just like that.”

Peter can hear the smirk in Tony’s voice and he moves his hips faster, harder, as hungry for his mentor’s approval as he is for the white-hot pleasure he gets from his mentor’s cock buried deep inside him.

Both Tony’s hands are on Peter’s ass, guiding his movements, digging himself deeper each time he pulls Peter down on him. Peter can’t help the small moans and high-pitched whimpers leaving his body, but each sound seems to spur Tony on even more.

“Love the little noises you make with my cock inside you, baby. Like a needy little slut.” Tony grunts at the clench Peter gives him from being called that. “Hmm, You like being a slut, baby? You gotta know the way you look running around in this suit. This thing perks your ass up like you wouldn’t believe. Bet everyone who looks at you has the same dirty thoughts as I do. Bet they all want a piece of this sweet ass,” Tony squeezes his cheeks, slamming inside hard, “get all the way up in you the way I am right now.”

Peter shakes his head with a desperate whine, so horny at the thought that anyone else would find him desirable, but- “I only want you,” he pleads. “Want only you, Mr. Stark. Only ever wanted you. Ever since I-“ he whimpers at a particularly hard thrust. “I had pictures of you. Had my first orgasm thinking of you.”

“Fuck, kid,” Tony throws his head back with a loud groan. “Ruined you long before I even met you, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Peter pants, pulling Tony back so they can kiss as he rides him faster. “God, Mr. Stark, it’s so good. Want this all the time.”

“Maybe I should update the nanosuit’s program, huh?” Tony murmurs between kisses. “Make it retract a nice, accessible hole so I can take you whenever I want.”

“Yeah,” Peter moans, lost in lust, dizzy at the thought of being Tony Stark’s little fucktoy. “Yeah…” He cries out when Tony slips a hand between them to stroke Peter’s aching cock.

“God, you’re such a good boy for me,” Tony growls in his ear and Peter is gone.

“Ohh, Mr. Stark-,” No orgasm Peter’s had before ever felt as good as the one he’s having wrapped around Tony’s cock, the pressure in him intensifying every twitch and clench of his pleasure-wracked hole.

“Oh, fuck-” Tony grunts at the tightness around him, climax finding him quickly. The man looks so handsome when he comes, eyes dark and jaws clenched in pleasure. He grinds Peter on him roughly, spilling inside, shoving his load as deep as it can go.

The tension leaves Tony’s body with a rush of breath and the man slumps with his back against the chair, eyes closed, breathing heavily as he comes down.

“Shit, that was incredible,” Peter sighs, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder. “When can we do that again?” he giggles, the endorphins rushing through his veins makes him feel high and giddy. He pokes Tony’s stomach to get his attention.

Through lidded eyes, Tony watches, transfixed, as Peter uses a finger to scoop up some of the cum seeping out past the older man’s softening cock still buried inside him, then sticks it in his mouth.

“Well?” Peter grins, “Will you say something or just keep staring at me?”

@starkerfestivals

#starker #marsha writes #nff #starkerfestivalsevents #SFSummerBingo22 #chair sex #mouth kisses to the mods for extending the bingo so i can squeeze this out #also to the amazing anon for their amazing inspiring art

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thesokovianaccords · 10 months

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Fake fic titles! Running on Empty and/or A Bottle of Red, A Bottle of White and/or Our Sunlit Days

Running on Empty

Meddling siblings were actually going to be the death of them both. Because Kate and Anthony were liable to kill each other before the end of this.

It all started innocently enough - Edwina and Eloise had been flatmates for the past two years, and Kate and Anthony had traded off being their drivers to and from uni for years. But in a (completely unforeseen) turn of events, the two girls had "not coordinated ahead of time, we're so sorry, how embarrassing" and the four of them were off on the world's most awkward road trip.

Until the car broke down on the way back to London, and Kate and Anthony were forced to share the last room at a small hotel until the mechanic could sort them out. Which meant a night spent in far too close proximity - a night with wine, and only one bed, and a series of moments that neither of them could take back.

A Bottle of Red, A Bottle of White

It becomes a bit of a refrain for Steve and Peggy over the years. They often end up reuniting in France. Accidentally. It's missions in Paris and reconnaissance in the mountains and high-level meetings in Marseille and, once, a free holiday in Nice. (The less said about their time at Cannes, the better).

So it becomes their thing, whenever they cross paths in France. It's a prompt for date night, it's a code to ensure they're both safe and well, it's a touchpoint while one or both are undercover. It's a chance to explore, to try something new. To return to the same page.

When Steve first returns, when he knocks on Peggy's door with just the nanosuit on his back, he brings her two bottles of wine - one red, and one white. Back on the same page once more.

Our Sunlit Days

There are no rules during a heatwave.

Popsicles can be a breakfast, fans can run all hours despite the electric bill, and one can take leave of their senses and be reckless. What happens in a heatwave stays in a heatwave.

These are the things Steve tells himself as he watches his roommate walk around in increasingly shorter shorts and cropped tops.

He's doing his best to behave, honestly. He's been keeping a minimum safe distance, he's been encouraging Peggy to hydrate, he's been religiously adhering to the sunscreen reminder alarms on his phone. Because first and foremost, he and Peggy are friends, and it's a friendship that has saved him again and again. He never wants to jeopardise what they have together, now, always.

But as the unrelenting sun cooks their tiny apartment, he daydreams, to distract himself from the heat. And sometimes, he catches Peggy watching him too - as he mops the sweat from his brow, as he fixes their rickety fan, as he gives up on anything beyond the most essential layers. Her gaze is hotter than the summer sun, but unlike the UV rays, he likes the burn of wanting her. And maybe, just maybe, her wanting him too.

There are no rules during a heatwave. Right?

[fake fic meme]

#theawkwardterrier #sorryyyyy this took so long but these were all excellent #hope they're not too out there hahahaha #fake fic meme #kathony #kanthony #steggy

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trashheappro · 2 months

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The Anomaly - Ch. 12

Ch: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

Miguel trudged after the villainous duo. The Spot jumped them to a new universe a few days ago, said something about replenishing his spots. According to Gwen’s report about the Spot’s initial universal incident, that only spelled doom. He had to stop them.

It was his top priority, or it would have been had a Scorpion anomaly not appeared in a mass of glowing particles. Confused and agitated, the creature lashed out at anything and anyone that was too close to it.

People screamed, terrified of the strange man-beast that was not quite their own. The noise only drove it further into a frenzied state. Miguel and Miles deftly dodged a car haphazardly tossed their way, while the Spot yelped and threw himself onto the ground with the grace of a stone boulder.

Miguel had to take care of the anomaly before it could do anymore damage. He summoned his suit, at least he tried to, but nothing happened. Right. Miles and the Spot disabled his nanosuit. He was left in cheap civis. Still, all these innocent civilians had even less defense against the Scorpion. He stepped up.

Miles’ hand shot out to stop him. “Still trying to play hero?”

Miguel glared at him. “Someone has to.”

He scoffed. “Be my guest.”

“He’s going to get himself killed,” The Spot interjected. He wasn’t wrong. How long had it been since his last dosage of his Spider serum? ‘Too long’ was the correct answer since if he had been any slower, that car would have scalped him.

“I’d like to see him try,” Miles sneered.

Miguel turned back to the chaos. He had to play this smart, no suit, no armor, no webs. The Scorpion thrashed his tail wildly, his eyes unfocused and without purpose. More beast than man. He could do this.

Miguel dashed forward. He tore off a car door. Hm, still have enough power for that. Maybe… He ducked his head inside to put the car in neutral.

“Hey!” he called out to the Scorpion. It did not at all catch its attention, too much noise around them. Fine, maybe this would. He picked up a stone and chucked it at the back of the Scorpion’s head.

It snapped in his direction, snarling and drooling. Great. It mindlessly charged straight at him. Perfect.

Miguel kicked the car with enough power to send it careening into the Scorpion. It slammed into the building opposite of him. It didn’t have the oomph he had been looking for. The beast tanked the hit. It scrambled over the car to get to him.

Incapacitate the tail, the rest would come easy.

Miguel roared, a challenge the beast didn’t back down from. He rested the car door on the tip of his right foot. He braced himself for contact. Normally he wasn’t worried about an anomaly of this level, but he was weaker now.

It moved in accordance with its animal instincts. Easy to predict, easy to read its movements. Miguel dodged its first slash and the second, on its third he dodged, leaving his right side open. Movement caught his eye. He kicked up the car door, catching the stinger as it pierced the metal. He hefted the door up and slammed it down, using it to sever the tail.

The Scorpion howled. It lashed out. Miguel dodged and backed out of its range. He had to contain it. He had to beat it and send it back to HQ for processing and– Wait, he wasn’t–

A claw tore into his side. Shit. He stumbled back. Focus, O’ Hara. He didn’t have the leeway to be distracted. He extended his talons; not coming as long as usual. Damn it. Was he really going to lose here to this level of anomaly? It was weak, slow, and dumb. And he may be weakened and slower than usual, but that was no excuse. He dodged under a wide swing and slashed upwards across its chest. Blood splattered onto him. The Scorpion yowled and backed away.

Miguel had to finish it. No containment, no HQ to send it back to. He could not rely on the Society coming to pick it up; what if it got loose and caused more chaos. He had to handle this himself. He had to neutralize this threat.

A distinct warble sounded overhead. He looked up. The sky split into hexagons. Three Spiders jumped out. This was arguably worse. Unsuspecting and unaware of the danger that awaited them.

“Ooh, a little treat just for me,” Miles said, shoving Miguel back.

No! Miguel grabbed Miles arm, but was met with a glare. “Miles,” he hissed.

The Scorpion roared and charged, ignorant of the new alarming situation Miguel found himself in. The Spiders had more important issues at hand than a simply rampaging anomaly and Miguel didn’t have the resources to deal with it for them. And at this point, it wasn’t even a priority in anyone’s books.

“You’ve had your fun. It’s my turn now.” Miles spun a spike in his hand. The Scorpion paid him no mind, its focus solely on sinking its claws into Miguel. Its wild nature and tunnel vision made it easy for him to get his spike through its jaw and into its brainstem. It never stood a chance. He dropped the body and turned towards the Spiders, giving them a small wave. “Hello!” he greeted.

The small team nearly fell on their ass when they saw The Anomaly and the Spot where they were expecting a run-of-the-mill anomaly containment. But their assignment was at Miles’ feet and they had a new problem to face. Deal with The Anomaly, either beating him, which was unlikely, or getting away which was still unlikely, but marginally better odds. And then there was the added task of getting Miguel out of his clutches.

They may be caught off guard and unlikely to win, but it was a rare opportunity, one Miguel intended to take advantage of. All they had to do was portal back to HQ and he just needed to find an opening to tag along.

But Miles wouldn’t let go of him that easily, wasn’t about to let any of them go.

Miles cocked his head up challengingly. “Try not to bore me.” His mask materialized and he dispatched his drones.

The Spiders attacked.

Miguel stayed back behind the Spot, who was also content to just watch. He wasn’t locked down; Miles probably forgot to and with the Spiders keeping him occupied, it would stay that way until he did something to remind his captors. He would try and avoid that until the right moment.

Miles ducked and dodged, doing much of the same; waiting for his opportunity. He threw smoke bombs, attempting to obscure the battlefield and get a good sneak attack in, but spidey-sense kept the Spiders out of danger.

They covered for each other. If one got caught, another seemingly materialized out of thin air to get Miles to back off. They surrounded him, taking shots from his blindspots. Miles was fast, more attuned with his senses, but they were a team. They should have been winning against Miles on his lonesome.

Maybe it was because Miles’ new lonesome life prepared him better than the occasional team up the Spiders had. Regardless, the fact of the matter was, his Spiders were struggling. And the Spot hadn’t even stepped in yet.

Damn it. Miguel’s opportunity had not yet come, but that didn’t matter. “Move!” he shoved a Spider out of the way of Miles’ claws. He refused to stand idly as they died. The moment where they all managed to escape back to HQ would never be the ‘right’ moment if even one of them died. Even if it was just them– As long as they made it out, that was good enough for him.

“Portal! Get back to HQ!”

Their hands flew to their watches, typing furiously to get back to base, they smacked the center of the screen waiting for their hexagonal portal to appear, but nothing happened.

“Looks like you're stuck in my web,” Miles taunted. How–? The Spot finally stepped forward to settle behind the kid.

Miguel’s eyes widened. He saw them tinkering with one of the containment projectors when they had first taken him. Then the Spot was working on Miles drones for the past week. It might not be a coincidence.

“Run!” Miguel shouted. “Get out of his range!”

“Mig–” One of the Spiders tried.

“Forget about me! Go!”

They had a moment of apprehension before obeying and turning tail. Miles darted after them, but Miguel tackled him to the ground.

“Well, aren't you just a dashing hero,” Miles spat. He elbowed Miguel in the chin and kicked him off. They both rolled back onto their feet and circled each other. “Mr. Ohnn, bring back the strays.” The Spot nodded and portaled away.

That left Miguel and Miles alone in the open streets of this New York. Pedestrians scattered to the winds, but some remained close, curiosity winning over their instincts to run. They peeked through curtains from high above or in doorways of stores. These people needed to stop being so nosy; they were going to get themselves killed.

Blood soaked through Miguel’s thin shirt and ran down his leg. He cringed at the uncomfortable feeling of the heavy, sticky, weight of it making his pants cling to his flesh. Oh, and the gaping wound on his side too. Every step was agony, but he powered through it. If he could buy the Spiders any amount of time–

“Don’t worry,” Miles said, flexing his fist. “When I beat your ass, I won’t get a big head about it.” Arrogant little– “Nothing special about putting a wounded old man in his place.”

“Right, cause you can’t take me on otherwise,” Miguel snarled.

Tension flared in Miles’ shoulders. “And who says you’re not funny.” Miles made the first move, throwing one of his spikes at Miguel.

Miguel dodged, but twisting at his waist tugged painfully at his skin. He had no mask, Miles must see his discomfort and opted to take advantage, grabbing another spike and engaging in close combat.

On a baseline, Miles was relatively faster than Miguel, certainly more slippery. The sheer power of Miguel’s muscles was the one thing that propelled him fast enough to keep up, but right now he had none of that. It took all his concentration just to avoid the lick of Miles’ blade. His saving grace was that Miles seemingly wanted to do this the old fashioned way; without his electricity and invisibility.

But once Miguel looked closer there was more working in his favor than he initially realized. Wide swings, mediocre form; if he weren’t so weakened he could take advantage. Perhaps it was the arrogance of having Miguel dancing to his rhythm, but Miles had too many openings.

Miguel grabbed Miles' wrists, a poor attempt to restrain him. “Don’t.”

Miles shoved him off. “You’re still not taking me seriously,” he said lowly.

“Kid–” A hand shot out and smacked him in the face. He landed hard on his side, a strained grunt pushing past his lips. His blood stained the concrete beneath him.

“Don’t call me that!”

“Miles,” he tried. “Don’t do this.”

“How many times are you going to say that until it gets through your thick skull that it won’t change anything!” Miles opened his arms, accepting of any blow Miguel might try. “You don’t want me to do this? Then make me!”

He physically could not. Even now, he struggled to push himself to his elbows. “Miles, I can’t.”

Miles slammed his foot into Miguel’s shoulder. “Damn right.”

He tried to push Miles’ foot off, but he was too weak. “I haven’t– I meant I haven’t taken my serum,” he hissed. Without it, his healing wouldn't be able to keep up with this wound.

Miles’ head tilted questioningly. “The injector with the green goo?”

“It’s not goo–”

“You take steroids?”

“It's not steroids,” he hissed. “It’s for genetic maintenance.”

“Maintenance?”

“Think glitching, but instead of the universe rejecting my atoms, my body is rejecting itself. My powers are tied to my genetic stability.” He gripped Miles' ankle right at the most sensitive point of the tendon and squeezed. The kid stumbled enough for him to weasel his way out from under him.

Miles stared at him standing half bent over with blood dripping down his side. “How often do you need it?”

“Once a week.” If he didn’t want any disruptions to his day to day.

“I’ve had you for almost two. You're past due.”

Yes, the deterioration right now wasn't so bad that his cells were actively cannibalizing itself, but he could tell his system was on a decline. It would be a slow painful death, especially at the end of the genetic degradation. He wasn’t expecting any of his requirements to be met, maybe only the basics to keep him alive, and even that… He was hoping to figure something out before then, but his prospects were looking grim. “I am.”

“You’re weaker, slower.” An observation, not a question.

“Don’t tell me you thought I was at full power all this time.”

Miles went still. His mind racing. His fists balled at his sides. There was a tremble in his forearms from how tightly he was wound. Rage. And Miguel was about to receive the brunt of it. Faster than Miguel could reasonably react to, Miles kicked him into a brick wall. “Mr. Ohnn,” he spoke into his comm. “Where are my Spiders?”

The Spot and two Spiders fell from a portal in the sky. “Sorry,” he panted. “One got away."

This very clearly disappointed Miles. “I can see that. Let’s not waste time then.”

Miguel watched horrified as the limp Spiders were dragged over to Miles. No. None of it mattered. He couldn’t save them. He couldn’t even find it in him to find solace in the one that managed to get away. How could he when two were still doomed to die at Miles’ hand?

“Mig–,” One of them mumbled into the ground, her mask was torn, one of her lenses popped out. Her brown eyes strained to stay open. “Miguel.” Her arm stretched out, reaching for him.

Miguel found the energy to push himself out of the dent he left in the wall, but immediately crumbled to his knees. Fuck, his back. He tried to get back on his feet, but hell, his whole body was a wreck.

A spike tore through her skull. Her hand laid still on the ground. The light no longer in her eye.

Fury filled him. “Miles!” He tried to yell, but his battered body made it sound broken even to his own ears.

Miles turned to the other Spider and Miguel–

God, he hated that he even thought it, but he took minor comfort in the fact that the other Spider was unconscious when Miles' claws tore through his neck. This was wrong. This was all wrong.

He fell onto his side, the blood loss finally getting the better of him. The Spot strode over, kneeling by his side. How funny. His life in the hands of a multiversal bending villain. The irony.

Miles must see it too, because he’s practically giggling over Miguel’s bloodied body. He twirled his finger and spun on his heel. “Onto the next.”

#Spiderverse #platonic!spottedflowerfang #Miles Morales & Miguel O'Hara & The Spot #Miles Morales #Miguel O'Hara #The Spot #The Anomaly #trashtexts

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indigosabyss · 6 months

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I want to write a fic about Gabe getting the Stormranger nanosuit. Technically speaking, he should be able to integrate w it bc the Kree-genetics were required only to get past the biohaze initially set up. Afaik humans should be able to get past it now.

now, the Stormranger is out for revenge. It needs someone in Kamala's vicinity who can be compelled to murder her. And for some reason it decides Gabe is the ideal candidate for this job.

Only for Gabe to be like "hey wtf" bc as far as he knew, he'd been living the most normal life with the most normal friends and now he has to rehabilitate the murder robot in secret to not disrupt the normalcy (that literally doesn't exist)

#kamala khan #gabe hillman #ms marvel

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pedroam-bang · 7 months

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Crysis 3 Remastered (2021)

#2021 #gaming #science fiction #post-apocalyptic #Crysis 3 Remastered #Crysis 3 #Crysis #Alcatraz #Nanosuit #Prophet #Psycho #CELL #New York #New York City #NYC #Mk.20 #SCAR

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samasmith23 · 6 months

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Minkyu Jung did such a phenomenal job designing Ms. Marvel’s Kree Stormranger Nanosuit!

#ms marvel #kamala khan #ms marvel kamala khan #magnificent ms marvel #kree stormranger nanosuit #minkyu jung #artwork #comic book art #comic sketch #marvel comics

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jazzfordshire · 4 days

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Jazz how do you feel about the nanosuit from the final season? imo ripping open the shirt to reveal the El crest is the sexiest thing about the supers and it’s a shame that was lost

I do love the pants, Kara deserves pants HOWEVER it meant they took away my beloved button-up shirts so. I am Sad

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duckapus · 3 months

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The Squid and the Magpie

Obviously the HMG plans weren't the only things the Grid would be interested in having Piper steal (just the most important ones). Of particular note is a small God Box fragment (this one's a cracked LED bulb about the size of a baseball) that lands in Luminos. It landed near a temple, which was a good thing because even if The Church isn't in the Muses' favor their priests/clerics/whatever other sort of spiritual leaders they have are still highly proficient in their selected Muse's magical branch Because Devotion, and apparently the programming behind Harmonian Light Magic is close enough to whatever's going on with the HMGs that a strong enough purification field spell can render the Anti-Meme corruption dormant as long as it's in place.

Obviously they send word to the Queen about this, and she tells their allies from other worlds. Due to Stupid Meme Adventure Bullshit the Haltmanns won't be available to deal with it (and conduct some research on the whole Light magic thing) for a few days, during which it'll stay locked away in the temple since they've clearly got it handled.

Anyway, Piper puts the limited shapeshifting abilities of her Nanosuit to good use by posing as a priestess who's next in the rotation for renewing the spell (it's a high-level enchantment that's blocking a literal eldritch horror for the better part of a weekend keeping it fresh is not a one-cat job). Tonio spots her at some point and his untrained clairvoyance instincts immediately clock her as both a fellow thief and not a Local, so he decides to introduce himself. Nothing like a little healthy competition, after all. Plus he does not like how that strange artifact Feels and she definitely seems like the exact sort of Wrong Hands that it shouldn't fall into.

So he confronts her in the storage room that they've converted into a temporary sealing chamber for the shard. There're some threats, some flirting (okay a lot of flirting because Tonio is basically Puss in Boots and Piper's mostly caught up in the moment), they get into a fight where between Tonio's magic and swordplay, Piper's tech and marksmanship, and their respective combat experience, they turn out to be pretty evenly matched. Then the temple's clergy notices all the commotion, and Nimbus, Mario, the Haltmanns and Valiant show up. The thieves both manage to escape in their own ways, Piper managing to bring the Shard with her as planned, much to Valiant's frustration.

And then Mario makes an interesting discovery; part of the aftermath of their fight is puddles of strange teal paint-like-goop, which he manages to identify as dyed Blooper Ink, specifically Blooper Ink from his world.

See, Cephaling Ink isn't exactly easy to come by if your body doesn't produce it. Harvesting a meaningful quantity is painful for the donor, it has no shelf life, and a lot of Inklings are racist, especially if you're a mammal that isn't one of the Judds. Plus ever since Inkopolis fell the nearest Splatoon city is Splatsville, so now you've gotta take long distance shipping into account.

Meanwhile Blooper Ink is functionally identical to Cephaling Ink when it comes to Inking Turf, aside from the lack of color variety which is easily solved with some food-safe dyes, and the lack of bioluminescence which doesn't really matter. It's safer and easier to get since it isn't literally what Bloopers are made out of, you can actually store and stockpile it for later use, it's not being gatekeeped, and the beings that produce it are abundant worldwide, especially in the Mushroom Kingdom.

All that makes it the Ink of choice for former Cephalings (so just Meggy and Piper as far as we know), as well as for the Kingdom's gradually blossoming Inksports scene, which started up thanks to some Inkopolis refugees deciding to reject their cultural biases and stay in the nation that helped them when they needed it most rather than move on to the Splatlands.

So, they know which universe the mysterious blue-and-black armored thief came from, and they know that she's probably involved in Splatoon-related activities. They also know that she was likely the thief at the Port Aurora HWC facility. They do not know her identity, or of her connection to The Grid.

#smg4 ocs #episode idea #scene idea?#eh. either way #piper fuji #tonio #mario #nimbus #commander valiant #worldbuilding #au lore #the grid #reminder: the grid as an organization is not good guys. they are bad guys with Standards #(and technically a branch of the Yiga Clan even if only their leader and a single agent know it)#who happen to currently primarily be in conflict with bad guys with Significantly Fewer Standards #might give tonio and piper a “enemies-to-rivals-with-benefits-to-lovers-who-are-often-on-opposite-sides” progression #just because i can

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