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webslingingslasher · 2 years

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Red Light/Green Light

I personally, love a good angst to fluffy story.

Pairing: mcu Peter Parker X Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: fights :( and mentions of sex if you squint.

Word count: 7.5K

You weren’t an anxious girlfriend by any means.

Peter could do whatever he wanted when he wanted.

If he wanted to go get pizza with MJ you would encourage it. If he wanted to help out Inez in intro to darwinism because she was confused you would tell him to go for it. When he got Bailey's number to help her with some minor debate help you saw no issue with it.

Until now.

Now you were asking yourself if you sent him into the arms of another girl.

You hated that you noticed this, you were never like this before but Peter suddenly had a lot to talk about with Bailey. When you went out for dinner he started keeping his phone upside down, when you hung out he kept it near him at all times so when a text came through he could intercept it immediately.

That was red flag number one.

It didn’t come to a head until recently. Peter went to the bathroom during movie night and his phone went off once, you continued to look at the screen. His phone went off twice, you looked at his phone face down on the arm of the couch. His phone went off three times, you looked towards the phone and the bathroom door. When it went off for the fourth time you couldn’t help it. You never looked through his stuff before but what could Bailey need that it required four double texts?

Holding your breath and looking towards the door again you lent over and picked up his phone. You sighed when you realized you were correct and looked at the stacked notifications from Bailey. You tapped on them to open them, you needed to put in his passcode. You typed it in but it vibrated, you did it again but it happened once more. You did it slower, pressing each number on their own. His phone locked, one minute before you could try again.

He changed his passcode.

Red flag number two.

You tried to stay normal but the panic of him talking to a girl while changing his passcode didn’t leave much room for interpretation. When he came out of the bathroom he was wiping his hands on his pajama pants. He sat down and kissed your head, “You okay?” His question came when you pulled away from him, you crossed your arms and stared at the screen.

“Baby?” He called when you ignored him.

You hummed. If you spoke to him right now it wouldn’t be pretty.

“You okay? You look like-” He started to make a joke, you cut him off. It wasn’t the time to be cute and funny.

“Like my boyfriend has been texting a girl so much it made me insecure and when I tried to look at what was so important she needed to text you four times in a row I realized you changed your phone passcode?” You turned to look at him dead in the eye.

“Do I look like that, Peter?”

His eyes went wide, his mouth dropped open and his cheeks flushed with color.

He looked guilty.

“I, I, I…” He tried to start.

“You, You, You.” You spat back.

You stood and grabbed your water bottle and phone.

“You need a better excuse. I’ll talk to you later.”

You walked to the door and picked up your backpack. You had a hand on the door and waited. You waited for something, anything. You waited for Peter to speak, to call your name, to call you dumb for insinuatiting what you were, to beg you to stay, to talk about it. You waited for him to web your hand to the door, something.

You opened the door and waited. You walked over the threshold and waited. You shut the door and waited. You walked down the stairs slowly, you stopped at the lobby entrance for a moment and waited.

He never came.

Red flag number three.

If you were a cartoon character you would have steam coming from your ears. Your head would be red and swelling, it would pop with the pressure of heat and anger. If you could burn holes through someone right now it would be Peter.

Because, when you tell your boyfriend someone he’s talking to makes you feel insecure and you even snap at him over it and leave his house you would think he would learn something. Not having her stand at his locker, talking back and forth. You watched with seething anger, he was talking about something insignificant, you could always tell when he was ranting on a topic.

But Bailey, you never really watched her. And boy are you glad you tapped into that conversation.

Bailey liked Peter. No. She loved Peter.

You could see it written all over her face, her eyes were lit up at his movements, she was laughing when he wasn’t saying anything funny. She was curling a stand of hair around her finger, twisting her hips back and forth. But Peter, Peter didn't have a notice in the world she was looking at him like that.

He was just moving things around from his backpack to his locker, he didn’t look at her once but she bored her eyes into his face like he was the world's greatest human. Peter could be deft at times, he was so smart but so dumb. He could recite the first fifty numbers of Pi but had no clue when a girl was into him.

You slammed your locker and stomped over to him.

The power that you felt the moment Peter’s gaze finally looked up and smiled at you walking to him. And the moment Bailey’s face dropped. You lent forward for a kiss and smiled when he pushed his head down to meet you, he pulled back but you pulled him back by the waist of his shirt for one more.

“Looks like someone made up after the fight.”

Your power was drained. You felt weightless and defeated.

You looked at Peter and frowned. He almost wanted to cry, in the time you’ve been together he’s never seen a sadder face.

“You told her?” Your words were built in betrayal. He wouldn’t talk to you but he talked to her? The reason you felt so shitty to begin with?

“Yeah,” He looked at Bailey for a second, he licked his lips and thought of his next words carefully.

“Yeah, I just needed a girl’s perspective.”

You stepped back from him.

“A girl's perspective?”

You looked at Bailey, she had a half smirk but dropped it when Peter looked at her again.

He nodded his head and gulped. Bailey said this would help but it was backfiring badly. He didn’t choose his words carefully enough.

“You could’ve asked MJ or literally anyone else.” Your voice was monotone.

“Well Bailey-” He started. He was defending her. Not you.

Red flag number four.

You cut him off and spoke loudly. You wanted the hall to hear this.

“Bailey wants to fuck you. She’s trying to fuck this up.” You pointed between you and him.

“And you’re letting her.”

You stepped back ready to turn away to go to class. You looked at Bailey once more, her head was down and her cheeks were the color of a tomato, her whole body was flushed. You called her out in front of everyone.

You looked back at Peter and pointed at her ashamed stance.

“I don’t want to give you an ultimatum. I’m not that kind of girlfriend, but when you choose two girls you lose the one.”

You shook your head at him in disappointment and turned for math class.

—------------------------------------------------

Peter was always your partner in lab. Even though you didn’t sit together he made a deal with his seat partner that during lab he would work with you instead. He always looked forward to the block class, he got almost 2 hours with you and especially today he needed the time to talk to you, to try and fix this because god, you were pissed.

But imagine his surprise when the teacher called for lab and you moved to his table but when his table partner went to stand you pushed his shoulder back down.

“Thanks Tye, but today I’m going to work with Bailey.”

You looked at Peter and turned to go back to your work station with Bailey. Her face froze in panic when you returned, you smiled at her.

“Why aren’t you working with Peter?” She laughed to ease the tension. It didn’t work.

“Because,” You sat next to her and twirled a strand of her hair around your finger.

“I don't want to work with Peter today. I want to talk about Peter today. I thought you would love that, both of us chatting about the boy we love.”

Peter gulped. You knew he could hear you, you knew he wouldn’t be able to focus right now. You knew he was in full blown panic mode. You knew he was a nervous pee-er.

Bailey looked behind her at Peter but you caught her chin to bring her back to your face.

“He’s nervous. He doesn’t like that I broke the routine.” You looked at her.

“When he’s nervous he has to pee. It’s cute, on our first date he had to pee like seven times.”

“He’s about to ask for a bathroom pass.”

Peter’s hand raised, “Mrs. McClendon, can I go to the bathroom?”

You raised an eyebrow at her. “Told you.”

You watched her take your words in silence. She was scared of you at the moment, it was cute.

“Now, when he gets back, he is going to look at us. He’s going to wipe his hands on his pants and bite his lower lip. Then he’s going to sit down, he’s gonna tap his pencil on the desk and bounce his leg. Then he’s going to get up and look around and sharpen his pencil at the front of the class so he can get a better look at me to make sure I'm not tormenting you too much.” You smiled at her when you finished.

Bailey wasn’t sure where you were going with this.

When the class door opened you paused on writing down a chemistry question, the solution was the mixture you would be working on today.

“Go ahead. Look at him.” You nodded towards the back of the class. Bailey kept her eyes on her paper, you elbowed her.

“Really, watch him. I’m asking you too.”

You watched as Bailey looked at you, then turned her head to your boyfriend. You continued to work, even sliding Bailey’s worksheet to you to finish the second half of the equation. Bailey watched Peter at your command, she watched as he wiped his hands and looked around the room chewing on his bottom lip. He looked around until he looked towards their table, his eyes on you. You bent over the table, you looked between the pages and started to mumble. He heard you mutter something along the lines of ‘if Peter was here how would he do this? Is it x squared? No he would say that not every problem would be solved with x squared.’

He moved his eyes to see Bailey looking at him, he hadn't even noticed she was staring at him.

Peter moved to his seat with his head down. He started to tap the end of his pencil on the desk, then moved from biting his lip to shaking his leg. He looked at you once more, ignoring Bailey’s eyes. He looked at his pencil and pressed the lead to his desk watching it snap. He stood and walked to the front of the class to sharpen it again. He looked towards you and watched you struggle with the question, if you weren't mad at him you would have asked for help 3 times over by now.

He blew a breath through his mouth, he had to at least check on you. He had to make sure you weren’t berating Bailey too bad. He slowly made his way towards you, if the teacher asked he was taking the long way back to his seat. He paused in front of your seat, he was ignoring Bailey right now. Even he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and talk to her right now.

“How’s it going over here?”

You looked up to Peter and smiled, you wrapped an arm around Bailey’s elbow and tugged her into your side. “Great! You know, I think we have some things in common.” You looked at her and watched her slow blink, you pushed your shoulder to hers, “Right?” She just nodded blankly.

“That’s great.” Peter responded weakly, he moved to stand over your shoulder.

“Need any help?”

You straightened your back and felt him involuntarily move in, it was a habit. He was used to standing guard over you.

“Yes, actually.” You pulled your arm from Bailey’s, and pointed to the sixth task.

He hummed and moved forward, his hand moving over your shoulder to grab your pencil. He lent his mouth into the back of your head and placed a soft kiss. You knew it was an ‘I love you’ and grabbed his wrist in a silent ‘I love you too.’

“You know you can’t solve everything with x squared right?” You lent your head back into his chest and groaned.

“I know but last lesson it was the answer to everything and it made me feel smart and now I need your help again.” You placed a kiss on his forearm. “Every time I feel caught up it changes.”

Peter hummed and wrote the equation down for you, most times he helped you solve it. Sometimes you weren't in the mood for a whole lesson and he would just give you the answer.

“I know, it’s such a drag to help you. I mean, you have to come over and I help you and then we get to watch movies and I get to kiss up on you. It’s actually terrible.” He kissed your forehead and pulled back.

“You’re good to start now. You wanna come over tonight? We can do homework, or…” He trailed off and moved to your right ear, his whisper to you only, he didn’t want Bailey to hear, your reaction alone would make her shake.

“Or, we can do something else. May isn’t home, she won’t be back til tomorrow evening. Whole place for us all night.” He mumbled into your ear and you pulled back with a gasp. You held a hand to your chest, “Peter Parker!” He hummed and smiled, he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

Before he parted he pulled your head back by your chin, your face pulled backwards to look at him upside down. He had both his hands on the side of your face and smiled with his whole heart, he looked into your eyes and spoke honestly.

“Hey. I love you.” He winked and went back to his seat.

You started to pull the liquids to make the chemical reaction.

“How accurate was I?”

Bailey looked at you, and spoke softly.

“Spot on.”

“Know why I told you that?” She shook her head no.

You smiled at her with pity, you knew she felt it. She looked down in shame, “Know why I asked you to look at him?” She looked at you again, “No.”

“Because, You will never know him like I do. And he will never love you like he loves me.”

Bailey was silent for the rest of lab.

—----------------------------------------------------------

Peter thought he had made it right.

You talked to him in lab. You lent into his touch and he even gave you the answer off the bat. He even totally ignored Bailey and felt like a dick but he did it so you would know there was nothing to worry about. He loved you, he thought you knew that. He didn’t mean to make you so upset, he really didn’t mean to make you cry.

In fact, if Peter really thought about it he can’t remember a time he’s made you cry like this. He made you cry because he made you feel beneath him.

Peter thought when you came over tonight all would be solved. There would be no Bailey discussion, he figured he made his point when he ignored her existence in class today but apparently that wasn’t good enough.

The way tonight went Peter wasn’t even sure he had a girlfriend anymore.

Honestly he wasn’t too sure when it started. He wondered if you came over with the intention to fight or it just happened, maybe it was intentional because you didn’t even bring your backpack. You were in pajamas and had mascara under your eyes, he wondered if it was from crying or rubbing at your eyes from a long day.

“Hi.” He greeted you at the door.

“Hey.” That set him back some, you both always said the same thing. It was always hi, always. Peter felt like he was slipping, were you both on different pages?

“Hey?”

“Hello?” You questioned back.

“Are we just running through formal greetings?” You moved to the kitchen to inspect his fridge. Peter always had the best snacks and drinks, and they were always different. It was the first thing you always checked, looking for the flavor of the week.

“Hi. It’s always hi.” Peter felt nervous, his eyes shot to his bathroom door.

You scanned the fridge and found the new soda flavor in front of you.

“Oo, orange? May is going crazy. If she gets grape next time I won't leave until I finish all of them.”

“Did you hear me?” He shifted his weight.

“Huh? Oh, yes sorry. Hi, Peter.” Your voice was muffled when you poked your head back into the fridge.

Peter frowned. It threw off his balance and it didn’t feel the same when he asked you to say it. He wanted you to do it naturally, not because he wanted it.

“Babe, do you have any more cherry Coke? I kinda want one of those instead.”

“Um, Maybe. I can look, I really have to pee though.” He nearly sprinted to the bathroom.

When he opened the door he saw you standing right by it, he jumped a little and held his hand to his chest. He looked behind you to the kitchen and started to make his way to look for your cherry coke.

He stopped when you put out an arm to block him from moving.

“Am I making you nervous?”

Peter looked around and looked back at you.

“A little.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Why?”

“I think you're mad at me.”

You paused and thought about it. You were a little upset still but not angry.

“I don’t think I am. I’m a little upset but I don’t want to yell at you.”

“You’re not mad?”

You moved in for a hug and squeezed until he grunted.

“Not mad.”

“Then why didn’t you say hi?”

“Hi.” You kissed where your head fell on his chest. You leaned up and kissed up his neck into his jaw, each kiss he was given an ‘Hi’.

“Okay, okay I get it!” He laughed and pushed you away from him.

You followed him to the kitchen and watched him squat in front of the fridge, his head ducking to try and find a Coke for you, he knows you stashed one. You just forgot where you put it. He rooted around in the vegetable drawer and pulled the last one out. He held it to you and you gasped and held it to your chest.

“My hero!”

Peter stood and stretched, “If only every crime was that easy.”

You yawned at his stretch and watched him copy.

“I’m putting on my PJ’s. You pick the movie.” You gave him a ‘you sure?’ look. Peter always chose the movies, he said you had the worst taste in movies and you weren’t able to pick them anymore. When you binge TV he loves your choices, but movies were a failed task.

“I’m positive. Be right back.” He answered your look, it made your heart swell when he did that. He knew you so well that one look could ask him a question.

You cracked open the can and took a sip, you offered one to Peter. He took the can and took a mouthful that puffed his cheeks out. He wiggled his eyebrows and you giggled, he turned to his room to change. You meant to walk to the couch to choose a movie, and you did. You even sat your soda and phone down but then the thought of Peter changing was so exciting you bailed and went to watch him.

Except the excitement was blown the second you walked in. Peter wasn’t changing, he was sitting on his bed with his phone pulled to him with the charger in. He was fully clothed still, he went in with the intention of getting on his phone, not putting on pajamas.

His fingers were moving fast, he was trying to write as quickly as the thoughts came to him.

You knew who he was talking to.

Red flag number 5.

“What is wrong with you?” Your words were venomous.

Peter’s head shot up and his eyes went wide.

“You didn’t think I’d catch you? You’re so smart Peter, why are you being so dumb?”

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What does that mean?”

“Why are you still talking to her? What is it about her?” You pointed at his phone in his hand. He locked it and placed it face down on the nightstand. Your breath caught, he still didn’t want you to see.

You took a step back, and stared at his phone.

“Peter, I think we should break up.”

Peter stood from the bed.

“What?”

“I think we should break up.”

“What?” He couldn’t conceptualize what you were saying.

“I don’t like how you’re making me feel. I think I need to step back from this.”

“Step back? No, no no no, you don't need to step back.” His hands started to shake. He didn’t mean for this to happen, he didn’t know how serious you were at school. You told him you’d dump him.

“Then why are you still texting her?” You shouted the words, tears gathering. You were about to break down.

“She’s a friend! You treated her like shit today and she wanted to make it right with me.” Peter sighed and felt tired, he didn’t feel like fighting right now.

“I treated her like shit? She’s the one that is trying to ruin this!”

“Really? Because you’re the one fighting with me.”

The tears came down your face, you started to huff.

“Why are you letting her do this?”

Peter ran a hand over his face. He could fight guys all night long but fights with his girlfriend were daunting and exhausting. There was always too much emotion involved.

“I’m just talking to her. As a friend. I’m your boyfriend, you won.”

“Then why did you change your passcode!” You screamed the words, your breaths were short.

“And why do you hide your phone from me? And why are you lying about talking to her?” You were on the verge of hyperventilating.

“I’m not! Morgan got my password and texted everyone in my recents I sucked. I changed it then, I swear! I’m not trying to hide it but you said you were insecure!” Peter tried to defend himself but just put his foot in his mouth.

“I'm insecure? You know I'm insecure about her and you’re still talking to her?” You wiped your tears and sniffled.

“She just went through a bad break up! She said it was hurting debate so she needed help and she just started talking to me.”

“She wants a rebound not a friend Peter!” You were hurt and frustrated.

“Oh my God!” He shouted and pulled at his hair.

“She knows you exist! She knows we're dating!.” He pointed between you two.

“And she doesn’t care! You know she likes you, I know you do!” Your voice was rising again.

“I didn’t know it until today, I swear. But she knows we’re dating and that nothing will happen! She told me today!”

“And you told her about last night?” You shot at him.

“I needed to talk to someone!” He matched your tone.

“But not your girlfriend? Really? You’re going to talk to the person that made me leave?” You slapped your hands on your thighs and sniffled. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked out his window as you started to cry again.

Peter sighed and looked at you, you were so upset you were trembling. He had really fucked this up, he was trying to save the relationship not make it worse. He stepped forward to grab you but you stepped back and looked at him.

“Why her?” You sniffled and wiped away your tears before more were released.

“I never get jealous. I let you talk to other girls all the time, I let you hang out with them and I don't get mad or question you. But this one, this one makes me upset. Why can’t you get that? It’s just one.” You spoke softly, your lip trembled with the sob that wanted to escape. You wanted nothing more than your boyfriend to hug you and tell you he would stop talking to her, but he didn’t.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen, Y/N. I just thought she needed a friend. I just think you’re reading too much into it.” He spoke calmly but his words made you feel dumb, like this was a silly argument.

Red flag number 6.

“I don’t like you right now Peter. I’ve told you how I feel about her twice now and each time you wave it off. It’s not about her anymore, she's just a girl from school. But you're my boyfriend, and you've made me feel belittled and downplayed and lower than you.” You moved towards the door, but kept facing him.

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way. It wasn’t my intention.” His response was robotic.

You guffawed at him, his words were hollow. Did he not understand what was happening here?

“You know what Peter? It feels like you're cheating on me.” Your words sent swords to his heart.

“I’m not- I would never.” He moved towards you and grabbed your hands in his.

“I’m not cheating on you. I wouldn’t do that, okay? I love you.”

You pulled your hand from his and shook your head. The disappointment was written on your face, even he could see it.

“If you loved me you wouldn’t treat me this way.” Your words were soft, the decision was made. You weren’t going to make your partner choose you.

“What does that mean?” His voice was panicked. He didn’t mean for this to happen.

You stayed silent. He knew what this meant. He was fucking this up, you were the love of his life and he’s about to let you walk out the door. He was letting you dump him.

“Baby, what does that mean?” You turned your face and held your eyes shut as you cried. This was so hard.

“Baby?” His voice was pleading. You cried harder at the word, it was yours. He gave you that name and you wore it like a badge.

“Please.” His voice cracked.

Peter had never cried in an argument, but this wasn’t an argument anymore. This was a breakup.

“Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this to me. I’m sorry, please don’t. Please.” He begged you.

You shook your head, you had to stay strong. You had to prove you were worth more.

“Baby, please. I’ll let you read the texts. I’ll block her number. Please. Anything.”

You met his eyes, they were red and glistening. His nose was red, you remembered you told him his nose always went red when he cried. You called him your little rudolph. You just felt sad looking at him.

“Please don’t leave me.” His voice cracked and tears ran down his cheeks. His breaths were short, once the tears started he couldn’t stop. He brought his wrist to his eye and rubbed at it. He turned his back to you, his quick inhales left you wanting to run to him. You wanted to rub your hand down his back and help him breathe, you wanted to hold him and tell him it was okay but it wasn’t. You didn’t feel secure anymore.

“Peter,” You looked at his front door, you needed to leave. You couldn’t watch him anymore, it was becoming unbearable.

“Peter, I should go.” You nearly whispered the words, they were so hard to say.

“Y/N.” He whimpered. You’ve never heard him like this. He was pleading with you, he needed you like water right now.

“Peter, I have to go now. I’ll see you later, okay?” You stared at his back. You realized you hadn’t kissed him tonight, you didn’t get a last kiss.

You silently grabbed your phone and left. He didn’t say a word, part of you wanted him to fight harder for you. The other was glad he didn’t, he let you make this as easy as possible and you knew it killed him inside to do it.

You loved him. You truly loved him with your whole heart. And if you were cruel you would tell him that, but instead you looked at him one last time. He was hunched over as his shoulders shook, he was holding in his cries for you. Your heart fell to the floor and you left it there as you passed over the threshold.

Peter couldn’t sleep that night.

He also couldn’t be Spider-Man that night. He couldn’t do anything that required him to get out of bed, he felt trapped the second you left. His mind was hollow, he was entirely empty inside. He kept replaying the fight in his mind, he was never good at fighting with you. He always said the wrong things and made it worse. That’s why he never tried to fight.

He felt depleted and at a loss. He felt so fucking stupid too. He doesn’t know why he fought you so hard on it. It was one person that made you feel bad, but Peter, the one who wants to do nothing but love and protect you made it worse. He didn’t take your side, and that’s why you dumped him. He doesn’t blame you, he’d dump himself if he could.

He told himself ‘That’s it!’ If he goes over to Bailey’s and talks to her he can solve everything with you. He just needed to friend dump her and everything goes back to normal. Satisfied with his plan he jumped out of bed and grabbed his wallet and phone barley locking the front door before speeding down the stairs.

When he got to Bailey’s the plan was simple: Tell her girlfriend dumped you, tell her you can no longer be friends, get girlfriend back. Easy enough.

But the second the first part came out she let out an “Thank God!” and sighed.

“What?” Peter was puzzled.

“Thank God! She was the absolute worst. I don’t know how you lasted that long with her. She is truly insufferable. She’s always talking about you and going on and on about how special she is to be with you. If I’m being honest she never deserved you.” She paused and took a sip from her straw.

“You didn’t like her?” Peter was lost. Bailey had told him you were friends and she loved how cute you and him were together.

Bailey laughed at his question. “God no, I was praying for her downfall.”

“What? Why?” Peter couldn’t believe this. He was so blindsided, you were right. All she wanted was to get him to herself. And he let it happen.

“She didn’t deserve you. I just said that, silly.”

Bailey moved closer to Peter and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“But, if you’re feeling sad and needy I can make a good rebound. I need one myself, this works out perfectly.” She lent in to kiss him but Peter pushed her back.

“Are you insane? You said you needed a friend. I was good to you, I believed you when you said you wanted nothing more than that. I fought with my girlfriend over you. I got dumped because of you and you want to have sex?” Peter stood and shook his head at her.

“You’re not a good person. You rubbed off on me, I was a terrible boyfriend tonight. You don’t deserve me at all, and how you could insinuate that is beyond me. You are a shitty human who did a terrible thing.” He spat the words and turned to leave.

“Oh yeah? Well you’re just as bad. You fell into my trap just as easy, you knew what I wanted. Even your girlfriend called me out and you still kept talking to me. You must not have loved her that much.” She shrugged her shoulders, this was nothing to her.

Peter’s blood boiled with her words. You had told him those words just a few hours before and now Bailey was rubbing that in his face. Peter clenched his fists but couldn’t keep calm, he was so pissed at this girl that ruined his relationship he couldn’t keep a level head. He turned to walk to where she had stayed. Peter bent at the waist so his face was in hers directly, he wanted her to know the words he was about to share came from his heart.

“You are vile. You are scum. You are a terrible shitty human with no remorse or moral standpoints. You prayed on pity and turned it into a fun game. You mean nothing to me, if you were on fire I wouldn’t even spit on you. I think you are the worst person I have ever met and I’ve met a lot of them.” His words were ice cold, he has never spoken such cruel things.

“Wow. That hurts.” She blinked at him.

“You know what Bailey? I hope you find love, I really do. And I hope it’s really good. The kind of once in a lifetime kind of love. The love where you know the other person like the back of your hand, there is nothing that they can hide from you, and you can’t hide it from them. I want you to have a love that gives you a reason to wake up in the morning, someone that makes you breathe better just by seeing them. A love where you can’t imagine one possible moment without them because no matter what it is they just make it so much better. I hope that for you, I really do.” Peter spoke sincerely and went to leave.

“Do you really?” Her voice was soft. She always wanted a love like that, she dreamed of it.

“Of course.” He had his hand on her doorknob and turned his head over his shoulder.

“Then I hope you fuck it all up and lose it all.” He opened the door and slammed it behind him.

Peter was banging on your window.

You tried to ignore the taps at first, but then they were knocks. Then they were thumps of his palm against the window. You rolled your eyes, there was a reason it was shut and locked. You wanted to keep him out.

His restlessness was unsettled, his bangs became faster until you huffed and threw the covers off you and ripping the curtains open. You stared at Peter on the other side of the glass, and waited. You weren’t going to say a word until he did.

Peter looked at you wide eyed with an open mouth. He didn’t expect you to actually come to the window, he assumed he would have to break in.

“What?” You barked the words at him. You didn’t want to break the silence first but he was taking too long. Peter cupped his hand around his ear and made a confused face. “What?” You repeated. He narrowed his eyes and shrugged his shoulders and pointed to his ears.

“I know you can hear me Peter!”

He stared blankly at you.

You groaned and unlocked the window and threw it up.

“Hi!” He smiled at you.

“Hi.”

His heart clenched. You still did it. Involuntary or not it counted.

“What do you want?” You were quick to the point.

“Oi! What happened to exes being friends?”

You frowned at him. It’s too soon for him to be making these jokes, it hasn’t even been twelve hours.

“Not funny yet?” He read your mind.

“No.”

“That’s okay. I’m still into my ex.” He shrugged and watched you roll your eyes. He didn’t miss the hint of a smile on your lips, he still has you.

“Why are you here?”

“I went to Bailey’s house.” He started but you were finished at that sentence.

You stared at him and pushed the window down, he caught it at the bottom and pushed it up. You huffed and pushed it down, he kept his hand in place the window not budging against his grasp. You stood on your tiptoes and put all your weight into pushing it down but it stayed complacent.

“This isn’t one you’ll win baby.” His tone was cocky, he liked seeing you flustered.

“You can’t call me that I’m not your girlfriend.” You sat down at the window so you were equal height with Peter on the other side. You grabbed at this hand and tried to uncurl his fingers on the wood.

“Oh you like rubbing that in.” He watched as you tried to get him to release his grip but you were failing.

“Peter let go!” You reached your arm out to pull at his wrist.

“No. I love you.”

You pulled away and tucked your knees to your chest. You put your head down and started to cry, your shoulders shaking with each sob. Peter pulled the window open and let himself in, he sat down with you and wrapped his body around yours. You cried harder at his warmth, you turned around to press yourself into his neck.

“Why’d you let me do that?” Your words were muffled in his shirt.

“Because you had to.” He kissed your forehead and rested his head on yours.

Green flag number 1.

“Can I continue?” You nodded your head against his.

“I went to Bailey’s house. See, I had this great idea that if I told her what happened she would be empathetic and set it straight and then we would never talk again and me and you would get back together and the worst five hours of my life would be over. But something worse happened.”

You sniffled and pushed him back with your hands on his chest. You looked over his face and neck, if he was here to tell you he hooked up with her you would lose it.

“What happened Peter?”

He sighed and looked down. “You were right.”

“Huh?”

“I know right? Here I go with my loud mouth saying you don’t understand, but it was me babe. I didn’t understand. You were right, you were so right.”

“About what?”

Peter leaned back on his arms, “She wanted to bone me babe. Like right out the gate, I went over there heart in my hands. No light or soul left in me, just grasping at straws. I tell her you just dumped me with a capital D, no remorse, just a straight kill shot.” He smiled when he made you laugh, you wiped at your nose with a sleeve of his hoodie.

“And she goes, and I quote, “Thank, God.” and I obviously, in pure shock. Just double knifed right now, punches from every side. I say, “what?” because there is no way I heard that right and she says it again. Then she said she hated you, which she said you were friends all along, and that you didn’t deserve me. Then said I needed a rebound and so did she and this was actually a good thing if I think about it. Then she tried to actually bone me.” Peter concluded his rant.

“What did you do?” You looked at him and hoped he did the right thing.

“I barked at her.”

You laughed and leaned forward to hit his arm, “No you didn’t.”

“No I didn’t. I said some really, really mean things. Like, I defended your honor so hard she’s gonna form a crush on you instead.” He smiled at you, he wanted to ask if everything was okay now.

Green flag number 2.

“How mean?” You pushed him, you’ve never seen Peter mean. He must have wished her coffee was always too sweet or too bitter, never just right. That's the most vicious you could imagine Peter getting.

He let out a puff of air.

“Uh, something about being vile and being a shitty human and hoping she has the once in a lifetime kind of love you always dream of and she fucks it all up. Or something like that, I dunno it’s kinda blur.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked towards you.

Green flag number 3.

You pulled your head back in impressment.

“Wow. I’m lucky you spared my feelings when I totally crushed you after I slammed dumped you.”

“Good one, babe.” He stuck his hand out for a fist bump.

“You were totally heartless there. I mean I was crying like a baby and you stone cold just left. Now I know who the bad cop is gonna be when we have kids.” He poked fun and you turned your head at him.

“We’re not getting back together, Peter.”

Your words were ice. Peter felt frozen, he was sinking on the titanic. He figured it was okay now, you were talking like you were okay. Peter had a deer in headlights look and cleared his throat.

“Um, yeah. Of course, I really fucked that one up. I just wanted you to have closure.” He gave you a tight lipped smile and went to stand so he could make his exit.

You reached for his wrist and pulled him to keep him sitting.

“No hard feelings?” You reached your hand out for a handshake. He started at your hand and shook it, he nodded at your words. “No hard feelings.”

Green flag number 4.

You let out a breath of fresh air.

“Oh good. Don’t get me wrong, you’re totally hot and smart and totally my type. I mean you make me laugh even when I’m supposed to be mad at you and you always know how to fix our problems but I mean, I’m still hung up on my ex. It wouldn’t be fair to jump into a new relationship right now.”

Peter nodded with your words.

“I understand. I’m still not over my ex, she reminds me a lot like you. Beautiful, witty and just a dream stomper. I still love her actually.” He sighed and reminisced.

“I still love mine too.” You looked at him and felt like giving him the best kiss of your life.

“You know if we're both hurting from our ex’s we could just be each other's rebound. It works out perfect.”

You leaned over and met him in a kiss. He made a surprised sound not expecting your move but grabbed your waist and pulled you into him. He opened his mouth into yours and deepened the kiss, he thought he wasn’t going to be able to do this for a while. Not ever again though, he always knew he would win you back. You moved to straddle his waist, with your arms locked behind his head you pulled back from him and pecked his mouth.

“I’m sorry I broke up with you.” You whispered into his mouth.

“It’s okay. I deserved it.” He matched your tone.

Green flag number 5.

“It was the worst five hours of my life. Let's never do that again.”

Peter lent in to kiss you again, and again.

“Deal.”

“No really, it was traumatic.”

Peter was kissing down your neck, he hummed and you pulled away with a shout.

“Was it? I think I was more traumatized. The love of my life broke up with me like it was nothing. I was a mess.”

“No, actually I had it worse. I mean you were begging me not to do it, I was the heartless monster that had to keep going and actually do it.”

“I think you gave me trust issues.” He moved some hair behind your ear and you raised your eyebrows at him.

“Oh I gave you trust issues?” Making sure to enunciate on the you.

“Mhm. I see the error of my words.”

You pressed your forehead against his and stilled. It was okay. Everything was okay.

“Hey, Petey?”

“Yes, baby?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Green flag number 6.

#peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #peter parker drabble #peter parker mcu #peter parker #my writing

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reginaphalange2403 · 6 months

Text

Never Again

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Despite an intense dislike for one another, you and Bucky begrudgingly get paired together for a mission. You’re forced to look past your differences when things so south.

Warnings: Canon level violence, asshole Bucky (at first), enemies to lovers vibes, other mcu characters make appearances. Word count: 6.1k

a/n: AHHHH my first fic in like 6 months! this is also the first time I've ever written for Bucky or written anything like this. It was a lot of fun and I hope I did him justice lol. Enjoy!

The loud hissing of the Keurig was a rude awakening to your 7am start to the day. Unfortunately, Steve had decided to hold a team conference meeting at 8. Why he chose to annoy you all like this, you weren’t sure.

“Are you fucking done yet?” You instantly recognized the deep, rough voice muttering under his breath behind you. Bucky had his arms folded and was impatiently waiting for you to finish up at the machine so he could make his own cup.

“Already have a stick up your ass today, huh Barnes?” You spit back at him before moving to let him use the Keurig.

“Well, I wouldn’t have one if you weren’t the first thing I saw when I came down the stairs.”

Damn. That stung. “Have you ever been nice for once in your life? Or is being a dick just a permanent part of your personality?”

At your words, Bucky looked up at you and feigned offense “Oh, I’m nice” He assured you in an almost sweet tone, before turning cold again “…to people that deserve it.”

You rolled your eyes at him, muttering a ‘whatever’, and left the kitchen to go take a seat in the conference room. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an atypical conversation for you to have with Bucky. Ever since you had joined the team almost a year ago - at Natasha Romanoff’s request - Bucky had been anything but welcoming. At first, you thought it was just friendly banter, him trying to sarcastically intimidate you, but it was clear by now that he genuinely had a deep distaste for you.

Soon enough, everyone else started to file in for the meeting. Nat smiled as she took the seat next to you, her regular spot, and quietly started asking you about your morning. Bucky was the last one to enter the room, and by that point the only seat left was the one on your other side.

He glared at you as he sat down.

“It’s not my fault you’re always late to these things” You quipped under your breath.

“Don’t push it, sweetheart” Bucky frustratingly muttered, and you quickly opened your mouth to reply before Natasha interrupted,

“Don’t bother with him, Y/N. He’s always a grump in the mornings”

‘No, he’s always a grump to me’ you thought to yourself, but kept your mouth shut.

“Good Morning, everyone” Steve finally got started with the meeting, a cheery grin on his face that was all too happy for 8am, in your opinion.

“As you all know, for months now we’ve been trying to track down where exactly Ian Haverford and his men have been setting up camp and operating their illegal activities” Most recently, the team had been working on taking down a group of rouge scientists. They had somehow been creating and using a serum that was similar to the super soldier serum. A antidote that made them have increased strength, speed and agility. They then used their new enhancements to rob and kill storeowners, evade the police, and then subsequently sell the drugs and weapons that they had stolen.

“We’ve finally located their compound, up in rural Virginia, we-“

“What he meant to say was I located their compound in Virginia” Tony cheekily butt in.

Steve sighed, having to stop his own eye roll, “Fine, yes, Tony located the compound. Anyway, as I was saying…We believe that that’s where they’re making the serum. The sooner we go in, the less time they have to continue using the serum and giving it to more people. Now, I didn’t necessarily think this was a task we all needed to partake in. It really only requires two people to take down Haverford and gather intel on what chemicals they’ve been using”

Steve took a big breath before revealing who he had assigned to the mission, knowing he’d have hell to pay, “Y/N and Bucky will be heading to Virginia tomorrow morning-“

“Are you serious Rogers?!” You immediately confronted Steve’s decision as you heard Bucky next you,

“You’ve got to be kidding me” He mumbled, clearly as annoyed as you were.

Steve put his hands up defensively, “I know the two of you don’t always get along, but I was hoping this assignment would allow you to work together and actually have to interact beyond your bickering”

You had never been on a mission with just Bucky before. Of course, the two of you had been on missions with the rest of the avengers together, but never just the two of you.

Steve continued, “Besides, we need someone who’s a super soldier to infiltrate the compound. Bucky has the strength and speed to match that of Haverford’s people. And Y/N, you also have enhancements, it makes sense to send the both of you in together.” He concluded by basically saying his decision was final, and that you and Buck would be leaving on a quinjet first thing tomorrow.

During your years in the red room, you had been injected with various substances and drugs that over time had enhanced your agility, flexibility, reflexes and even your sight. But you didn’t see how that made you a necessary aspect to this assignment. You were sure Steve was just using that as an excuse, he really just wanted you to get along better with Bucky.

Speaking of which, Buck stood up from his chair as you looked over at him, he glowered at you for a moment before scoffing, “Guess I’ll just have to grin and bear it” and with that he left the room.

You stayed, waiting for everyone else to file out so that you could speak with Steve privately. Natasha gave you a sympathetic look and squeezed your shoulder, as she was the last one to head out after talking to Steve for a while herself. You were always sort of jealous of their friendship. Of course, you had Nat. Who was your closest confidant in the group. But you also wanted to be close with the guys as well. You supposed Steve was your friend, but sometimes it felt like he looked at you as more of a younger sister.

Finally, it was just you and Steve alone in the room and you were still sitting in your same seat, Steve standing at the head of the table. He tilted his head towards you and quirked his eyebrows, waiting for you to say something.

“Why does he hate me?” You asked quietly. You had always wanted to go to Steve for advice on how to handle Bucky, but never wished to cause a rift in their friendship or make Steve feel like he was put in the middle of something.

His eyes went soft and he sighed, “Oh Y/N” He began gently “I know it may come off that way, but Buck doesn’t hate you. He just…” Steve looked to find the right words, “has a hard time handling his emotions and how he feels about people… especially people that bring up past trauma for him”

Steve’s little hint helped you clue in to what he was trying to imply. You knew that Bucky had a history with the red room, long before you ever did, but you never really knew the details of it or how he was involved. You were saved from Dreykov almost a year ago when Natasha returned to destroy him. You were one of Yelena’s closest friends and she had introduced you to Nat, who then saw how skilled you were and decided to invite you to join the avengers, since you really had no other home to go to. Yelena meanwhile, had wanted to enjoy her freedom a little more and chose to see the world a bit before deciding to join any sort of vigilante team. Though Natasha always held out hope that she would finally join one day when she felt ready.

“But Nat’s from the red room too!” You defended yourself, “And Bucky treats her perfectly fine! It’s not my fault that my past is what it is. I can’t help the fact that I was raised there, why does he have to hold that against me?” You started to get emotional and Steve could tell, so he began to try and explain his friends behavior.

“Well, he’s gotten to know Natasha for a few years now, so I think they’re on better terms. Plus he kinda owes her one for how she saved both our asses during the whole…sokovia accords thing” Steve said the last part quietly while sort of shamefully looking down. Despite the fact that it was worked out now, that whole incident with him, Tony and Bucky still deeply bothered Steve to even bring up.

He continued after a moment, “He doesn’t hold it against you Y/N, it’s not your fault. He just doesn’t like the memories you bring up for him, the things you remind him of. And he doesn’t know how to properly process and work through them, so instead he just takes out that pent up anger and self hatred on you. It’s not fair to you, but it’s also not your fault.”

“Get him to see a therapist then” you muttered.

Steve scoffed, “Believe me, I’ve tried.”

He then walked around the length of the table to where you were sitting and gave you a pleading look, “Just give him a chance. Hopefully this mission will be the thing that finally gets him to see you in a different light. I know it’s hard to believe, but he really does have a sweet, soft side under all that brooding, if you dig deep enough” And that was what Steve left you with as he walked out, leaving you alone to mull over what he had said.

———————

For the rest of that day, you and Bucky both avoided each other. You spent most of the afternoon locked up in your room or in the gym, perfecting a few moves with Nat’s help in preparation for your assignment. You didn’t see Bucky all day, you assumed he also was doing his best to not run into you.

Now, you were seated across from him on the quinjet, an awkward silence taking up the majority of the ride to a rural part of Virginia. He barely even looked at you for the entire 2 hour flight. Mostly staring down at his hands with airpods in, or having his head tilted back and eyes closed. As you neared the end of your trip, jet about to touch down, you noticed Bucky finally didn’t have headphones in, so you decided it would be a good time to set some things straight before you literally went into battle with him.

Cautiously, you spoke up, “Look, I know we don’t necessarily see eye to eye but we really need to-“

He cut you off sharply “Once we touch down I’ll take the northeast side of the compound and you can take the south side. They apparently keep their lab in a big room on the south side, so you head that way and ransack the lab while I take down Haverford, who’s quarters are up in the north end. Got it?” Not even listening to what you had tried to say, Bucky simply started barking out a game plan at you.

“Sure, but I was saying that we-“

Bucky sighed dramatically, “Look Y/N, we just need to do our damn jobs and get this over with. Alright?”

“But Steve said-“

“I don’t care what Steve said.” He snapped, “I’m not here to make nice.”

And with that, you sat in silence again for the last few minutes of the flight. The quinjet landed in an open forrest area, roughly a 10 minute walk away from where Haverford’s compound was supposed to be. Of course, you couldn’t land right next to it without risking them hearing and giving yourselves away. So, you and Bucky began the short trek to the complex, once again in complete silence the whole way there.

Finally, you arrived upon a large monster of a building. It took up almost the entirety of the empty field that it occupied, with no windows around it whatsoever. To anyone else, it looked like from the outside to be just an eery abandoned building. You and Buck snuck around to the backside where a hatch door was used to get into the lower level of the building.

“When we’re done,” Bucky finally spoke for the first time in over 15 minutes “How about we meet up back here at this door, so that we can leave asap and not waste time trying to find each other in this fucking maze. Good?”

You swallowed, remembering the “plan” Bucky had laid out earlier on the jet. You really didn’t feel right about splitting up with him. The compound was massive and neither of you had ever navigated it before. Sure, Steve had shown you a basic floor plan of it and talked about where he believed they were making the serum, but that was it. You didn’t know your way around this territory, and you didn’t know what Haverford’s men were like. And on this mission, it was just you and Buck. You didn’t have the other avengers around to look out for you, or be your eyes and ears over the comms.

“Bucky, I don’t know if we should separate. This place is big.” You finally admitted.

“It’s nothing you can’t handle” He grumbled out, which should have sounded like a compliment but came out as more of something to shut you up and get on with it.

“But what if one of us gets injured or can’t find our way back to the door?” You asked, embarrassed to be admitting your nerves to him. Bucky could see for a moment that you were genuinely anxious about this.

“We have the comms in our ears,” He began in a slightly softer tone than he had ever spoken to you before, “If you need help, just talk to me. I’ll be in your ear the whole time”

You nodded, still a little worried but trying not to show it.

“Splitting up is the fastest way to do this. And the faster we get this done, the less time we have to spend together.” Ah, there was the Bucky you knew. Back to making jabs at you. That was the last you spoke before he broke the door open and you were in.

—————————

As discreetly as possible, you made your way through the compound, quietly trying to get to the south wing without being heard or seen. Steve said that they most likely were keeping their lab in the largest room in the building, which supposedly should be through the last door on the south side. As long as you could find it, get the records and evidence that you needed, and get back to the exit in time to meet Bucky, you’d be fine.

You could hear Bucky through the comms, sounds of grunting and punching obviously coming from him fighting Ian Haverford’s men that he had come into contact with.

“Looking for something princess?” You immediately stopped in your tracks at the sound of a deep sinister voice snarling at you. Whipping around, you saw one of Ian’s goonies standing just a few feet from you.

Instantly he charged at you, but it was nothing you hadn’t ever dealt with. Before he could grab you, you took hold of his arm and twisted it behind his back, affectively turning his entire body away from you. Then, using the Widow’s Bite armor that were around your wrists, you tased him in the neck, causing him to fall completely unconscious.

It was then that you realized you had made it to the end of the hallway, and thus the last door which was supposed to be their lab. Prepared for men to potentially be in there, you unholstered one of your firearms, and promptly kicked down the door.

To your shock, the room had no occupants. You quickly reached over to find a light switch, and what you saw next was infuriating. It indeed was Ian Haverford’s lab. Full of tables and stations that held different mixed drugs and chemicals that he was using to create his own super soldier serum, one that he then used on himself and his accomplices. You also saw a station that was entirely made up of a large desktop connected to multiple computers.

You started to make your way towards the computers so that you could plug in your hard-drive and collect the data that would supply the team with how Haverford had been making the serums. But before you could get there, a white, powdery substance started to sprits down from what looked like emergency sprinklers that were on the ceiling. The substance reeked like chemicals, similar to that of bleach but not as strong. You began to cough a little, trying to wipe the shit out of your face and eyes. You had no idea what the fuck it was or what it might possibly do to you.

“Bucky” you half coughed half called his name into the comms, “Bucky something happened”

“What?” He grunted out, clearly still in the middle of fighting someone.

“I just got sprayed with some kind of white powder stuff. I don’t know what it was. It must have been part of some kind of booby-trap that they had on the lab, since I kicked their door in, it went off.”

“Are you okay?” Bucky immediately asked, seeming genuinely worried.

“Yeah I mean, nothings happened yet, I’m still fine. But-“

“I’m a little busy Y/N, if you’re fine for now, just get the data from the lab and head out fast. I don’t have time to keep talking” he quickly rattled off to you, and you heard a loud scream coming from a guy that Bucky obviously just injured.

You swallowed, still very nervous about whatever the hell just happened to you, but you didn’t want to distract Bucky any further and potentially get him hurt, “Alright. On it.”

Plugging the hard-drive into the main desktop, you waited patiently as thousands of files started to download from Haverford’s database. As you stood there and waited, an annoying, high pitched ringing began to go off in your ears. At the same time, your vision slowly started to blur slightly, as if you were wearing the wrong prescription glasses. A lump formed in your throat and your heart practically dropped into your stomach, you hated to admit it, but this was deeply scaring you. You’d never been poisoned before.

You rubbed your eyes, hoping maybe it would help, but nothing happened, the blurriness just got worse. On top of that, your head started to pound, most likely due to the loud obnoxious ringing. It was the powder, you knew it had to be. What else would just suddenly start causing all this?

“Y/N? You still good?” You heard Bucky ask through the comms, clearly still preoccupied with something else but wanting to check on you.

You debated telling him about your symptoms. You were teammates, he should know. But on the other hand, It was just a few mostly mild symptoms, and the files were almost finished downloading anyway. You’d grab the hard-drive, run out of the compound and meet him in just a few minutes. You could make it until then. Plus, you didn’t wish to further annoy or distract him from fighting.

“Yeah. Still good!” You tried to sound as enthusiastic and convincing as possible. It must have worked, because he didn’t question you further.

Standing over the counter, still waiting for the files to be done, you leaned over the table a bit and made the idiotic decision to close your eyes for just a second, trying to relieve the headache.

A moment later, you felt a sharp, intense fiery pain in your abdomen as someone reached from behind you choking your neck and thrusting a knife into your stomach. You were paralyzed for just a second with fear, not even able to cry out. The ringing in your ears was so bad, you must not have heard anyone come in.

Trying to ignore the pain, you instinctively kicked your right leg back hard, hitting the man in the groin and causing him to fall to the ground. However, on his way down, he didn’t miss the chance to slash you in the calve with the knife he had been holding. The stab was so quick you could only gasp in pain. A gasp Bucky must not have heard as he was fighting his own battles.

Turning around, you fumbled for your firearm for a moment before finally getting it out and being able to pull the trigger, sending a bullet right through his chest. Stumbling backwards a bit, you started to feel lightheaded and you were reminded of the red hot pain in your stomach. You placed a hand over the side the feeling was coming from, and immediately felt a sticky hot liquid coat your fingers.

You didn’t have time however to investigate the stab wound, because as you glanced up, you could see through your blurry vision that 3 more men were walking in through the kicked down door.

Lazily raising your gun again, gripping the table to keep from toppling over, you aimed as best you could, with ringing ears, blurred vision and now two stab wounds. Thankfully, your training in the red room had taught you how to aim with even a blindfold on, and with a few quick shots, the men were taken down, now lying limply on the ground in front of you.

Bucky heard the gunshots through the comm, but since you never called his name or made a noise that would indicate you needed help, he assumed you had it under control.

You let the gun fall from your hand, now that you were alone and for now, out of danger, you were finally able to feel the extent of your injuries as the adrenaline wore off. Ever so slowly, you peered down at your stomach and saw that the hand you’d been holding there was almost entirely now coated in blood. Without meaning to, you fell to your knees, which then painfully reminded you of the other deep wound in your calve. However, you were so tired, and the loss of blood was making it hard to do anything other than focus on breathing.

You knew you needed to alert Bucky. You couldn’t just lie here and wait, you didn’t have that kind of time.

“Bu-Buck” you whimpered, trying to be loud enough that the comm would pick it up. But even just trying to talk was proving to be exhausting. You knew you were losing what was probably a lot of blood. Wet hot tears started to roll down your face, you were dangerously close to just giving in to the blood loss induced exhaustion and closing your eyes.

——————

Bucky, meanwhile, had finished taking down the men on the other half of the facility and was waiting for you outside at the spot you’d both agreed you would meet. He spoke over the comms, “I took down Haverford and his men. I’m out here now. Hurry up.” Short and to the point. How he always was with you.

Immediately, more tears welled in your eyes at hearing his voice. You were desperate, in pain, and exhausted. Despite having a deep distaste for Bucky, you knew you needed him. You needed him to come and find you. You didn’t have enough strength to speak, but luckily the sound of his voice finally brought your own voice back and you mustered up a deep, pathetic and painful whine from the back of your throat…and it was enough to be caught over your ear piece.

He stood there for a few minutes, getting antsy. Especially since he didn’t hear fighting noises over comms, he assumed you were just taking your sweet time making it back to him.

After a bit of waiting he sighed, grumbling “C’mon Y/N, what the fuck could you possibly-“

His complaining ceased as soon as he heard your one singular cry through the comm. Bucky’s eyes went wide, heart dropping into his stomach. He’d never heard a sound like that come out of you before.

“Y/N?” He called your name in an almost scared tone, “Are you okay?”

No response.

Bucky swore under his breath, “I’m coming, just hang on” he made that promise to you like it was an oath, and raced back inside the building.

Sprinting to the side of the compound that you were tasked with handling, Bucky searched frantically through the hallways, popping his head into every room trying to find you….until he did.

You laid there, blood seeping across your shirt and a pool of it surrounding your one injured leg. The men that you had disarmed and killed were sprawled out around you.

After his initial shock wore off, Bucky ran to you, kicking one of the dead arms dealers out of the way to get to you. He dropped to his knees, eyes scanning your wounds.

“Oh, Y/N” He whispered with guilt and sorrow dripping from his tone. A million emotions flashed across his face. Including anger at the men who had attacked you, but mostly at himself for allowing this to happen.

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and the tears finally flowed freely now. Aside from the pain, you were relieved. Despite you’re not getting along, in this moment you wanted nothing more than for Bucky to hold you, and tell you everything was going to be just fine.

“Okay” he whispered in a stunned tone, trying to calm both you and himself down. His hands hovered over your body as he took in your wounds and decided what he needed to do.

“Okay, alright.” That time, it came out more sure, “It’s alright, doll. Just keep breathing for me.” He tried to comfort you as he whipped out his phone and let Tony and the team know they needed medical there immediately.

Bucky then swallowed, giving you a remorseful look for what he was about to do.

“Okay sweetheart,” he began tenderly, as he took off the black jacket he had on, and then promptly ripped the sleeve of it off with his metal arm.

“I’m gonna have to tie this around your leg to stop the bleeding. It might hurt a bit, but I gotta do it” He gently explained what he needed to do, waiting to see a sign in your eyes that at least you understood. You gave him a very weak nod, and that was all he needed to then wrap the sleeve tightly around your upper calf.

He was right, it did hurt. But it wasn’t anything you hadn’t expected or weren’t prepared for. However, you believe Bucky only told you about having to wrap your leg, in order to half distract you from what he did next.

A blinding, nauseating pain quickly overcame you as he took the rest of the jacket he had, and with his metal arm and half his body weight, pressed it over your abdominal wound.

You immediately cried out and instinctively reached for Bucky’s arm, trying to push him away.

“Shhh, I know, I know baby” Bucky, who almost sounded pain-stricken himself with guilt, began to hush you, “I know it hurts, but I have to, I have to” He grabbed your hand that had tried to push him away, and let you squeeze the life out of his own as he continued applying pressure. His thumb softly grazed your knuckles, trying to soothe you.

While continuing to comfort you, Bucky began to look around as if he expected someone else to also come to your aid. It was then that he realized he’d need to get you out of the building in order to get you onto the quinjet. There was no way the medical team would be able to find their way around in here to get to you in time. And he could see that you’d already lost a lot of blood, and even with the tourniquet and pressure he applied, you were still losing some.

He took a breath, staring into your eyes with a serious yet remorseful look on his face, “Ok doll, I’m gonna have to pick you up and carry you out, but we can’t let up pressure on your wound” he explained, “So, I’m gonna need your help.”

Bucky then took the hand of yours that he was holding and gently guided it over to your abdomen. Lifting the jacket, he placed your hand over your own wound, you whimpered a little at the contact. Bucky swallowed, “I know doll, but I need you to put pressure on it like I was, okay? Can you do that for me?” He looked at you pleadingly, praying that you understood what he was saying.

Having to bite your own lip to keep from crying out again, you started to press down on your stomach with the little strength you still had. Bucky could tell you were trying by your obvious change in facial expression, “That’s it. Just like that, that’s my girl” he praised, quickly swiping one of your tears away. It wasn’t a lot of pressure, but it would do.

Ever so gently, trying to avoid hurting your injured leg, Bucky gracefully slipped his arms underneath you and scooped you up, holding you close to his chest. You moaned a little at the shift in movement, “Shhh, I got you doll. I got you” he whispered into your hair as you shoved your face in the crook of his neck.

He quickly made his way back out of the compound with you in his arms, thanking god when he saw the medevac quinjet was already out there waiting for you guys. Bucky tenderly laid you down on the stretcher, taking hold of your hand again as soon as he was able.

“She was poisoned with something and then stabbed in her lower left calve and left quadrant of her abdomen” He immediately started rambling off what had happened to the medical team and Dr. Cho.

“Poisoned with what?” Someone asked, he didn’t see who it was cause he wasn’t taking his eyes off of you.

“I- I don’t know.” Bucky admitted, “I think she said it was white and powdery, I can’t remember.” Internally, he was kicking himself so hard for not having immediately ran to you when you told him about the poison. He shouldn’t have just written you off and told you to deal with it. He shouldn’t have done a lot of things.

Bucky sat on the little bench in the quinjet right next you, still holding your hand, while the team got to work on your injuries. Technically, he should have been sitting at the front of the jet, out of their way, but no one was going to tell an upset Bucky Barnes what to do.

As they began working your leg, removing the tourniquet and getting a shot of lidocaine ready to numb the area, you saw them preparing the syringe out of the corner of your eye. You begin to hyperventilate, letting out a small whimper of fear. You hated all things medical, which stemmed from a deep rooted fear that dated back to your red room days. After years of being practically experimented on and shot up with god knows what, you didn’t particularly love the sight of needles. Even if you knew you were in a safe environment.

Bucky, who was still diligently sitting right beside you, immediately recognized your anxious reaction. He too knew that fear all too well. While he didn’t like to admit it, his time as the winter solider and being left at the hands of hydra often caused him to have visceral reactions to medical paraphernalia.

“Hey, hey” he softly called to you as he gently held your chin and brought your face to meet his, “It’s alright doll, you don’t have to look down there. Just look at me. Right at me.” He held your eyes, squeezing your hand a little tighter to let you know he was there. “That’s it. Just keep looking at me, Y/N. I’m right here” And that’s how you eventually went unconscious, staring into Bucky’s eyes as he quietly shushed you and ran his hand through your hair.

——————

The harsh lights of the medical wing practically blinded you as you tried to let your eyes slowly adjust to your surroundings.

“Hey hon” you heard a soft voice coming from your right side, whom you instantly recognized as Natasha.

“Well there she is” another voice, coming from your left who you thought was Steve, spoke up, sounding relieved at the fact you were awake. Your suspicions were proven correct when Steve leaned over slightly into your line of view.

“Welcome back, Y/N” he smiled, clearly exhausted but delighted by your opened eyes.

Your voice came out raspy and weak as you spoke for the first time, “H-how long have I been out?”

Natasha grabbed a cup from off your bedside table and offered you some water as Steve answered you,

“About three days. They had to get the bleeding under control and repair a portion of your stomach that was perforated. They also gave you some antibiotics to combat whatever the hell it was you were poisoned with,” he explained, “they seem to be working though. Doc says as soon as you’re strong enough, you can finish recuperating in your own room” He ended his spiel with a smile, but there was still one question he hadn’t answered that you were desperate for.

“W-Where’s Bucky?” You wondered why he wasn’t here, as you didn’t see him next to Steve or Nat.

“He’s right here, Y/N” Steve motioned to the back of the room where you couldn’t see, but Bucky was standing in the corner, eyes red and sunken in like he’d been crying. He immediately picked his head up when he heard you mention him.

“He hasn’t left this room in three days” Steve whispered to you in a hushed tone, hoping Bucky couldn’t hear him.

Nat cleared her throat, “We’re just gonna go get some coffee” she looked at Steve and jerked her head towards the door, beckoning him to follow her. They both left, leaving you and Bucky to yourselves.

Slowly, Buck made his way over to your bed, taking the seat that Steve was just in.

He was almost fearful of what to say, surprised that you had even asked for him in the first place. He blamed himself entirely for what happened, and was positive that when you woke up, you’d want nothing to do with him. And he wouldn’t blame you.

“Hey doll” he croaked out, voice sounding strained, “How’re you feeling?”

You swallowed, “My stomach hurts, and I have a headache” you admitted, still in a bit of pain from your wound healing.

Bucky nodded, “Do you want me to get the doctor? They might be able to give you more pain meds.” He asked, wanting to make sure you were as comfortable as possible. You didn’t know, but for the past three days Bucky had remained diligently at your bedside, alerting medical staff of any slight change in vital signs or if he thought you were cold and needed more blankets. He’d only left a few brief times when Steve had to force him to go eat or use the bathroom.

You shook your head, “no, no I’m okay. Promise” You offered him a slight smile.

Bucky stared down at his hands for a moment before he spoke up again, “Y/N, I am so so so sorry. This never would’ve happened if I had just listened to you and not had us split up.” He spoke with such guilt and shame you almost felt bad for him, “I was so focused on my own agenda and being a dick to you, that I completely ignored when you needed help. I can’t even-“

“Buck,” you interrupted him, reaching over and grabbing his hand with the little strength you had, “this isn’t your fault. It’s the fault of the men who stabbed me. That’s it. No one else’s” As much as you knew he fucked up with the way he treated you, you certainly didn’t think he should have to take responsibility for you getting hurt.

“But if I had come as soon as you said you were poisoned, if I had just listened to you instead of choosing to be an asshole, you probably wouldn’t be in this hospital bed” he insisted, eyes getting watery.

“Well, you were an asshole, I’ll give you that.” You smirked at him, trying to get him to relax, “but you also saved my life.” Bucky looked up at you, “You tied the tourniquet which kept me from losing more blood, and then made sure I didn’t have a panic attack on the quinjet. You might have fucked up a little Bucky, but you certainly made up for it” you gave his hand a little squeeze.

For the first time since you went under surgery, Bucky smiled, “All the same, I’m never separating from you during missions ever again.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, “that sounds a little suffocating, don’t you think?”

He shook his head, “Nope. Not to me. Nothings ever happening to you while you’re under my watch again”

“Well if that’s the case,” you scooted over a little in the bed, “will you keep me warm before I freeze to death in here?” You were genuinely very cold and were hoping for someone to bring you another blanket, but you supposed having Bucky there would do.

He chuckled softly, “you got it.” Lowering the hospital bed rail, Bucky climbed in and laid down next you, pulling you up close to him with his arm around your shoulders.

He placed a brief kiss along your hairline, “get some rest, doll. I’ll be right here.”

————-

Taglist: @patzammit @dpaccione @fdl305 @gh0stgurl

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes enemies to lovers #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes x red room reader #bucky barnes x avenger!reader

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olsenmyolsen · 7 months

Text

You Have Me For The Night (18+)

master list

dark master list

MCU AU (Female Reader X WandaNat)

Summary: You need a job and money. Luckily, Natasha Romanoff knows exactly what you can do.

Word Count: 11.7K

Content: Heavy Smut! Sex!!! Fingering, Mommy Kink, Daddy Kink, Edging, Begging, Strap, Praise, switch!Wanda, Transactional Relationship, Corruption kink(?), Oral, Handjob, Aftercare, Feelings

Also special thanks to @lesbianpizza for their help from time to time ❤️

Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff were stuck, and they knew it.

To be more specific, their marriage was stuck.

They loved each other deeply and cared for one another more than themselves. But between training, missions, and the workload of it all. They never ended up on the same page. Or together. In fact, it had been weeks upon weeks since Natasha had touched Wanda and vice versa.

So when week five turned into six. Both of the women felt like they were losing it. Wanda wanted to cry because Nat was across the globe while Natasha wanted to capture their mark and kill the man who made her miss her very spicy scheduled FaceTime call with her little Wands.

But here's where you come in.

You see. You've always been.. flexible. Open-minded.

And with a little download of a very specific new app and a background check using SHIELD encrypted servers led one wife... renting... you for the other.

But we're getting a little ahead of ourselves. So let's back it up a bit and show what happened before you pulled up to a lovely house in upstate New York.

"How's the job hunt going?" Your best friend and roommate Ava Starr asked, making you sigh. Truth be told, since your girlfriend up and left you five months ago for her coworker Jean. You haven't done much of anything. I mean, you cried and got angry and cried again. Got sad. Thought about adopting a cat. But didn't and then cried about not adopting the cat. On top of that, since your father's recent death, you've been coasting off his inheritance. But that money was slowly disappearing.

Hence, the job hunt.

"Oh, it's going.." You reply while you skim through Netflix before switching to Hulu, not satisfied with any of the options. Ava huffs from the kitchen before entering the living room and yanking the Roku remote from your hand, turning the TV off. "Hey!" You barely moved from your laying position on the couch.

Ava walks in front of you, making you eye level with her legs. "Did you use my razor? Your legs are looking better than normal." "Y/N!" Your roommate exclaims, making you look up to her. "Get up." You shake your head. "No."

"Y/N."

"I don't want to." Ava rolls her eyes at you. "Y/N. Now." You groan loudly and annoyingly before sitting up. "Child." Ava huffs at you before sitting right next to you. "Have you at least gone out?"

You know what Ava is getting at. The have you tried dating or hooking up? Question. "Tuesday night." You reply, making Ava furrow her eyebrows before she closes them. "Y/N. You and I went out for Chinese on Tuesday night!"

"I went out!" You whine. "With me. We're not dating!" Ava yells and pushes your shoulder lovingly. "We could."

"We could what?"

"Date." You wiggle your eyebrows as Ava laughs. "No. We couldn't. You're not my type."

"What to pretty?"

"Too annoying." She beat you there. "Besides. You know what I'm getting at." Ava gets up to check on her pasta. You let your body go limp and slide down the couch, forcing your sweatshirt to ride up, exposing your stomach. "Did you even try the apps I downloaded for you!" Ava yells from the kitchen. You mumble in response to her that she surprisingly hears.

"Maybe you just need something new," Ava spoke as she came into the room again with a bowl in her hand. "Maybe." You reply. "Where's your phone?" Ava asks as you slide back up the couch, pulling your shirt down. "I don't know somewhere ar-"

"I got it."

You shrugged as Ava typed in your password and searched through the App Store for you. She started asking you questions, but you were too focused on stealing her bowl of food to notice. She even slapped your hand away when you weren't being as sneaky as you thought.

"Oh, can it." Says your so-called best friend.

You sniffed loudly as she handed your phone back to you. "What is it?" You asked, looking at an empty profile of yourself. "I downloaded an app called hush. It's supposed to solve the two biggest problems you are doing nothing about. Basically, have sex. Get money."

You looked through the photos of the women on the app and felt your face getting warm. "How did you find out about it?" You asked, unable to pull your eyes away from a blonde woman named Carol. "I didn't. It was new. But the reviews seem to be nothing but praise. Plus, only women are allowed to use it. I think it connects to your phone account or something.. I don't know... I just signed you up and hit okay every time a thing popped up." That made you pull your eyes away.

"What if I'm signed up to have like my kidneys harvested or something!?" Ava shrugs at you and spins a forkful of noodles. "It'll be better than to hear you close and reopen Netflix fifteen times a night."

"You're being mean tonight."

"Only because I love you."

You got that right.

You flip through the profile and information tabs. "hush haven for under satisfied hores..?" You did a double-take as you read the words again. Ava snickered while watching you. "They spelled whores wrong." You pointed out, making Ava smack you on the arm.

"Okay, so once I upload my.. pictures.." You look to Ava, who nods along. "And select which category I'm in. Giver or Muse... Then it looks like I wait until someone swipes on me. And then the conversation can start.."

Ava sets her bowl of food down and leans over to help you. "Alright. Let's get to work." She states, forcing you to look at her dumbfounded. "But I was going to look through my.." "Nudes?" She cuts you off. "So what, dude? I've known you half your life. Grow up." Ava makes a point and grabs the phone out of your hand. You don't even try to fight because you get distracted by her pasta. Not wasting another second, you grab it and shove a forkful in your mouth.

"Hey!" Ava finally looks up from the phone. "Come on! I bought dinner on Tuesday." You claim, which Ava rolls her eyes at. "Fine." Ava goes back to your phone before she remembers. "Wait, no, you didn't! I did!"

It's a wonder how you ended up in the bedroom of Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff.

As Ava and you set aside your food-related differences and finish setting up your profile. Across the globe, The Black Widow is sitting in a dingy one-bedroom flat waiting for her ride home after taking down an illegal arms operation.

When her phone rings, she expects it to be Wanda but gets disappointed when it's a bald one-eyed man. "Fury," Natasha says in a manner only she can to a superior. "Romanoff." He replies. "I see you didn't run into any trouble on your little excursion." He smiles, knowing Natasha isn't. "Just the usual. Wasn't even a challenge. I made one guy break his own arm just so he wouldn't have to deal with me."

Fury raises an eyebrow. "I'm sure he was more than happy to do so." Natasha shrugs. "Eh, I still pepper-sprayed him." Natasha leans back in the wooden chair she's in. "So what's the call for?"

"I got some intel on a dark web app called hushquietly launching. Don't know if it's legit. Don't know if it's not. But I figured while I got you waiting on a ride, you could help me out. What do you say, Romanoff?"

Natasha sighs. Nicks got her. "I'll let you know what I find."

"Appreciate it. Say hi to Misses for me when you get home." The line goes dead, and Natasha is left wondering about Wanda. Her smile. Her laugh. Her eyes. Her body. How much she misses her touch. How badly she wants to be with her right now. To feel her.

She dips her back and bites her lip before remembering where she was. "Goddamnit!" Natasha curses and storms off to gather her laptops and get to work.

Safe to say, over the next couple of hours, Natasha couldn't find anything on this so-called hush. The keyword existed but not in a way that would be important to SHIELD or The Avengers. Natasha even scoured the ligament app stores repeatedly, and nothin- "Wait a minute.." Natasha leaned forward and clicked on an app that she could've sworn wasn't there a second ago.

Once the app opened, it was apparent that this was not what Fury was looking for. But.. Natasha didn't stop... She looked over the fine detail of the signup menu and the tagline below.

"A special someone for your special someone."

She looked over the full name of the app before she made sure to think about what she was doing. The line between right and wrong was a little blurry. But the line in the sand was quickly drawn when Natsah's phone went off.

A text from her wife.

"I don't know when you'll see this, Milaya, but I just want you to know that while I think about you every day... right now, I'm thinking about you in a way that makes me cry because you can't fuck me."

Attached was a photo of her Sokovian in Natasha's favorite red lingerie set.

Natasha's fingers hovered over the keys to type a response before stopping herself and smiling.

Not too much later, a message was sent.

Natasha leaned back in her chair, smiling, sipping on a beer. On her laptop was every single thing she could find about you. When everything came up green, and the a-okay was given to Natasha's brain, she let you know your services would be required.

Natasha held her phone and double-checked that the cameras inside and outside the house were in working order.

They were.

"This should be fun."

Ding!

Your phone lit up with a notification from hush. It worked. Whatever you and Ava did worked. "Dude!" Ava looked at the message from a very hot redhead named Natalie. "You have to take this!" You paused your show and looked at the message. You barely skimmed it before you saw the price that was being offered to you. That made you go over and re-read everything Natalie sent.

"I told you the Halloween Catsuit picture would be a good choice!" Ava cheered as you clicked on the pictures of Natalie. You knew the pictures had to be of her. The app ran an algorithm that detected fake/ai photos. So, was Natalie like a model? Or just sculpted by the gods? What did they need you for?

But as you re-read the message for a third time. You still couldn't believe it.

"Hello Y/N,

I'm just going to cut straight to the chase. I want your services tonight for my wife, Wendy.

I'm away on business, and lately, I haven't been able to give my wife the satisfaction she needs. So, inquiring someone as beautifully stunning as you isn't a wrong place to ask. I'm willing to spend $10,000 for tonight's services and hoping we can bend the rules a little. If you accept, we will discuss more.

Hope to hear from you ;)"

You stared down at your phone, unaware of Ava reading over your shoulder. Your only focus was on three things.

1. Natalie wants you to fuck her wife. 2. She called you beautifully stunning, which means she's seen your pics, and that made you get very, very, very warm. 3. $10,000.

Your phone dinged again as a new message appeared while your brain was processing.

Okay, now there was one more thing on your mind.

Natalie's wife, Wendy.

"After this, I won't be able to send you anything else until you accept. So, with that in mind, Y/N, here's a picture of Wendy from Halloween last year. I thought you might enjoy this since you posted that very sexy Catsuit photo from Halloween. Anyways, cute, right? Just imagine what she's like when she is begging to be fucked like the slut she is."

The accept button was staring at you in the face.

After looking at a picture like that, how could you say no?

"She's gorgeous," Ava spoke up for the both of you. You just nodded before moving your lips. "She is." Then it dawned on you once again."Holy fuck."

Wendy's wife was about to pay you $10,000 to have sex with someone that you'd pay to hurl slurs at you. Not that you think Wendy would, but you get the point.

Natasha's phone beeped on the bedside table where she was staying. She leaned over, wearing nothing but a black t-shirt and bike shorts, having changed after Fury told her that her ride would be delayed.

Anyways. It wasn't Wanda or Fury messaging her.

It was you.

She smiled and felt the giddiness run through her body when she read the words: "I accept."

The money hit your account quicker than you thought possible. Seconds after you accepted Natalie's offer, the money was there.

Along with an address and Natalie's preferences for what you should wear for Wendy.

- No Panties - Black Dress - Black Tights - Black Heels - Peach Lipstick

You didn't know why it had to be peach lipstick, but when you asked Natalie, she told you to "ask Wendy."

Regardless, Ava and you couldn't believe it. You couldn't think that this was actually happening. That this was going to work. Which meant you couldn't believe that you had to tell Ava that she was right for once.

Luckily, Ava didn't let it get to her head. (She did, especially because she just happened to have the peach lipstick you needed.)

Ava offered to drive you to the location typed in, in your maps app, but you've seen the way she drives, and you'd like to arrive in one piece, so you Ubered.

"Couple of minutes out." You messaged "Natalie".

Unbeknownst to you was that Natasha was already tracking you. Laying in bed, one arm propping her up, she watched a little dot, you, arrive closer and closer to the house she and her wife, Wanda, shared.

Natasha could imagine your face sprinkled with curiosity as the Uber made its way up the winding road that was their driveway.

Even better was the fact that Wanda knew nothing. After messaging her wife earlier, she had to be left to her own devices, which was nice and all, but Wanda was missing contact. Her vibrator and fingers could only do so much. She missed the touch of someone on her body. Lips on her own. Fingers in her hair. She needed it and more!

Badly!!

Wanda turned off the living room TV after not paying attention to anything for the last half hour and was ready to head upstairs when her phone started ringing.

Stopping in front of the stairs, she smiled. "Hi, baby!" Wanda giggled, hoping Natasha would be home soon. "Hi detka." Her wife replied. "How are you?" Wanda asked as she ran up the stairs to peel off her sweats she put on following her afternoon activities. "I'm good Wands. Waiting for my ride out. So I'll be home later than scheduled."

Wandastoppedmoving as her pants fell to the ground, revealing the red strap she put on earlier just for Natasha. "Oh.." The disappointment in Wanda's voice was evident. "Wanda-" "No, it's okay, Tasha. I get it." Wanda sadly took off her top and was about to remove the harness when Natasha's voice spoke up on speaker. "Stop what you're doing!"

Wanda froze her movement. "Don't take that off!" Natasha spoke again. "How did- cameras." Even though Wanda couldn't see it, her wife smiled. "Turn around for me, beautiful." Wanda took her hands off the strap and turned around to the camera in the corner of the ceiling. Smiling at it when she saw the red light glowing underneath it.

Natasha was watching.

"Was that for me?" Natasha smirked. "It was."Wanda grabbed the phone and walked around to the side of the bed, bringing herself closer to the camera. Leaning back so Natasha gets the full of view of her naked wife with a 7" red silicone cock.

"What was my little witch planning on doing with it?" Natasha asked, knowing full damn well. Wanda playfully rolled her eyes at the nickname.

"I think only good girls who come home are allowed to know," Wanda spoke as she turned around, showing off her big smooth ass. Working out with a spy has its benefits.

"So if I were there, you'd do something about it?" Natasha asked while her eyes watched your dot stop right in front of the house. Your Uber leaving. Wanda still having no idea.

Wanda sat on the bed, smiled, and stared at the camera as she started moving her hand up and down the shaft of the cock. "Yes." The Sokovian spoke.

Nat bit her lip as the ring camera went off. The noise and notification alerting Wanda as well. "Is that you?" She looked up to the camera, asking. "No, baby. It's not. But it's for you, my Wendy."

Wanda turned and grabbed her phone, confused. "For me? Wendy-" The alias made Wanda remember times before the I Do's. "Natasha, what did you do?" Wanda was about to take her strap off yet again when Natasha commanded her not to.

"Keep it on. But on your pink robe. She'll explain everything detka. I'll call you in a bit. I'll be watching on cams."

With that, Natasha hung up and left Wanda in their bedroom, horny and confused about what her wife had in store. She turned her head and saw the red light still on. Okay. Wanda thought. Let's see what this is. She ran to the bathroom and slipped on her pink-colored robe before making her way downstairs.

On the front porch, you felt sillier and sillier. The doorbell had gone off twice, and no one had come to the door. You were about to call it quits and probably cry when you got home when your phone buzzed.

"She's coming, baby, don't worry."

If the term of endearment didn't make you blush, then the woman on the other side of the door would have when it flew open, revealing the woman from the photo sent earlier.

This time, instead of a Halloween costume, she was wearing a bathrobe. Her smooth skin was darker than in the photo, and the picture you saw didn't do her eyes justice. Standing before you, you could see pools of emeralds she had been blessed with. Her freckles and moles danced across her body, making you look everywhere before you focused up and smiled as she did the same. "Hi." She softly spoke.

Her slightly accented voice makes you want to scream without the s.

"Hi." You smiled like an idiot, even extending your hand like one, too. "Y/N." Wanda smiled at your cuteness. "Wendy." She said, knowing you'd believe it. "So what do I owe the pleasure, Y/N?" Wanda stepped onto the front porch, coming closer to you. She was now at your level. A bit shorter than you, thanks to your heels.

The step down made her cock jiggle, not that you saw. You fumbled over your words, making Wendy smile and giggle. You froze and let a heatwave run over your body. That giggle of hers, you'd do anything to hear it again.

"Try again, sweetheart."

The pet name should've clued you into the fact that maybe Wendy already knew what you were doing here, but it didn't. You just smiled and started speaking while trying not to get lost in her eyes.

Oh, Tasha, she's so cute. Where did you get this one?

While you poorly explained the events that led you to having an app placed onto your phone, Wanda decided to look you over discretely.

Natasha dressed you. If the black on black on black wasn't a giveaway, then the peach lipstick would've been.

Wanda smiled as she watched your kissable peach-covered lips move. She was going to have fun with you.

Wanda's eyes quickly moved up your body again past the black heels that you'd be in all night and up your legs. Your dress stopping not even mid-way down your thighs.

Wanda was highly aware of what all of this meant.

"...so then, after seeing that cute costume, I accepted. I must say you're much more beautiful in person. Natalie didn't do you justice." You rambled, and Wanda picked up the name Natasha was going with. "Why thank you, Y/N." Wanda smiled before opening her mouth again.

"I know you said this was your first time using this.. app.. but have you ever done something like this?" Wanda needed to know. You slowly shook your head, and Wanda had to do her best to keep her lips from spreading into a wide smile. "Good." She said. "Good."

You watched Wendy look you over once more. "You look stunning, Y/N. I'm lucky to have you tonight." You opened your mouth in shock. "No, Wendy, believe me. I'm the lucky one." She smiled at you before turning around and opening her door wide for you to follow her in. "We'll see."

Natasha watched you follow her wife inside on the ring camera and slowly moved her hand over her clothed pussy, still wet from when she saw Wanda's cock.

Your heels were loud against the hardwood floor of the modern house in the middle of nowhere. "It's beautiful." You looked around as you followed Wendy into a giant kitchen. "Thank you. Natas- Natalie and I designed it ourselves." Wanda quickly looked into the corner of the ceiling, the red light on.

"Could I interest you in anything to drink?" Wendy walked to the other side of the kitchen island. You were about to answer when you closed your mouth shut as your eyes landed on the woman's green eyes staring back at you. Her robe was no longer closed like it was moments ago. Instead, it was strategically open—a clear view of Wendy's side boobs and flat stomach. You could now pinpoint a mole on her left breast. You licked your lips as she leaned forward over the island. Her lower half was still a mystery to you as her boobs threaded to spill out.

"I- I-" You stuttered, forcing Wendy to lean up and smirk at you. "You really haven't done anything like this before. Aren't you adorable?" She said the second sentence under her breath, but you heard her.

That made your legs press together.

Through the laptop screen, Natasha smirked, too. Wanda and Natasha were always teaching each other things. But the ability to flirt and get what you want was masterfully taught to Wanda over the years. "You're doing so good, baby.." Natasha moaned as her finger brushed over her covered clit.

"Here, we'll start with some water." Wendy turned away from you, opening their fridge and pulling out a water bottle. She opened it quickly and set it down near her. "Come here." She spoke softly to you. You swallowed and made your way across the kitchen. The only noise in the house being your heels.

Wanda closed a drawer and placed a straw in your bottle as you stopped before her. Still unaware of the surprise under the robe. "I wouldn't want you to mess up your lipstick."

Not yet.

"Thank you." You awkwardly smiled and took the bottle from Wendy, who watched you drink it like a proud mother. "Good job." She whispered as her right hand pushed some of your loose hairs behind your ear. Her delicate fingers moved down behind your ears and to your neck. Stopping there. "Finished?" She asked as her other hand reached and grabbed the water bottle from you. You nodded as Wendy took a sip as well.

The cold contact from the water made goosebumps appear all over Wendy's body.

Wanda gasped and had a giant smile form as her nipples became hard and brushed up against the robe concealing them. Her eyes pierced through you as you smiled back at her. Your eyes quickly moving up from Wanda's cleavage. "Y/N?" She asked, setting the water down. "I'd like to ask a couple of questions that maybe my wife didn't ask or maybe things she already knows. If that's okay?"

You nodded.

"I like for you to speak when spoken to Y/N." Wendy gently but sternly reminded you as she ran her cold hands over your dress down to your hips, where she kept them in place. "How old are you?"

"25." You replied, making Wendy's face light up. "Wow. Still so young.." Wendy bit her lip. "Do you have a girlfriend?" You shook your head, earning a squeeze on the hips from Wendy. You did your best to hold in a moan but lightly failed. "Speak up, baby." Wanda teased.

"No girlfriend." Wanda smiled. "Good girl. Boyfriend?"

You quickly shook your head and told her no, making Wendy laugh. "Even better, detka.." She whispered as your breath became more erratic. "Safe word?" She asked.

You shook your head before speaking up. "Never had one before." For a split second, Wanda felt bad that you never had one, but her eyes sparkled with wild thoughts. "Mango. That's the word we'll use." The older woman decided. "Don't be afraid to use it either. It stops all actions and can keep you safe. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good girl."

Natasha watched as her wife's hands moved from your hips to behind your back, right above your ass. Wanda was slowly pushing more and more into your space. Your lower back up against the kitchen island.

"Come on, Wanda, show her the camera..." Natasha pleaded.

"You can put your hands on me," Wendy spoke as she watched your hands rise and fall. "Go ahead. Touch me." She looked up to you. You placed your hands on her shoulder, still covered by the robe. "Are you nervous?" You both knew the answer, but Wanda wanted to hear you say it. "Yes."

"That's okay." Wendy's eyes sparkled. "Pretty soon, you won't be." That made your stomach flip positively. You think. "Here..." Wendy quickly removed her hands from you and pushed herself away. Covering her body with the robe again and leaning on the counter a couple of feet away from you.

You wanted to whine at the loss of contact and the sight of her body, but you didn't. Instead, you looked shocked. "I'll start slow and help ease you. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Good girl." Your cheeks went red again, but Wendy didn't stop to comment on it. "To help tonight go smoothly for you, I'm going to be honest." Wanda looked at the camera and back to you. "Wendy is not my name. It's Wanda. My wife is Natasha, not Natalie."

That definitely didn't help your nerves, but it made you feel better knowing that maybe they lied because for a good reason. "I trust you not to tell anybody about it tonight, so there's no harm in telling you our real names."

"Oh... okay. Is it a safety thing?" You asked as your nerves settled a bit. Wen-Wanda nodded. "Yeah. Something like that." You nodded back. "Will Natasha be mad?"

"She's probably a little annoyed as we're speaking, but come tomorrow morning, she'll be just fine. Don't you worry about her." Wanda scrunched her nose up at you as she took a step closer. You looked at her fondly as her eyes grazed over you. In a normal conversation, she's still a goddess.

How can she even be looking at me?

Wanda played with the large belt of her robe before letting the ends causally fall. You watch in one quick motion. Wanda slipped a shoulder out of her robe as she approached you. "Y/N.." She breathed out as you lifted your hand to touch her bare skin. The minuscule divots in your thumb smoothing over her shoulder. "Yes.." Your voice lost itself as you felt a yearning build deep within you.

"I want you to look at me," Wanda commanded, watching your eyes find hers.

She took a step towards you. "Y/N, in the corner of the ceiling, there is a camera with a red light on under it. That's Natasha. So I want you to say hi. Okay? Tell her that her wife is in good hands tonight. You do that, and you can touch more than just my shoulder... Is that something you want Y/N?" Before you can respond, she says:

"Because I want you to touch me."

Wanda bites her bottom lip and watches as you process this information. The two of you becoming wetter with every passing second. Especially when Wanda lays her left hand on the inside of your left thigh. "Tell her hi, baby.."

You close your eyes as the feeling of Wanda's hand on you burns, but it feels so fucking good. You turn your head and open your eyes to the red light in the corner. "Hi Natasha.." You pant as Wanda's hand rises. "Keep going." She says, like you're not struggling already. Fuck it has been a while since you got laid. "Your wife is in.. good hands t-tonight."

You turn back to Wanda, who surprises you by jumping into you and kissing you. You melt as your lips collide. A moan slipping through your lips. You inhale Wanda for the first time tonight and smell lavender. Her body falls on yours, and you wrap your arms tightly around her, pulling her closer, hoping to relieve the pressure between your legs.

But that's when you feel it and moan into Wanda's smirking mouth. "Wanda!" You moan again as Wanda pushes into you harder this time. "Oh, Y/N!" Wanda removes her lips from yours and sends them down your chin before latching onto your neck. Kisses slowly morph into bites and marks of territory.

After all, you were hers for tonight.

Natasha watches your breaths become ragged as you throw your head back and moan loudly. Natasha pants and moans her wife's own name as she slides two fingers up and down her wet clit before slowly putting her middle and ring finger into her needy pussy.

"Oh, Wanda! Fuck!"

"Take my robe off!" Wanda looks up at you, detaching her mouth from your red collarbone. You nod and make work of the robe before it falls to the floor, revealing Wanda and her heavenly body. You push her by her shoulders to get a good look at her.

Perfection. That is all that comes to mind.

"Natasha is lucky." You reiterate your point from earlier as you look down at her body. You're in awe even when your eyes land on the real surprise of tonight.

"Look at how wet you've already gotten it, Y/N."

You do, indeed, take a closer look and see that down the tip of the fake cock is your wetness. "No panties, baby?" Wanda asks in a voice that makes your brain short-circuit. You shake your head. "No panties, Mommy."

You, Wanda, and Natasha all went wide-eyed at that.

Your therapist is going to have more issues to work out next Thursday.

Wanda quickly recovered, unlike you, and took steps closer until she was right up against you like before. The tip of her cock sliding through your wet lips. Earning a visceral moan. "Just wait till later.." Her words hit your burning ears. You nodded and almost begged her to just fuck you right there, but Wanda placed her hands on your hands, stopping you from touching her. Her hips moving forward and back at a quicker pace as she placed kisses on your neck once again.

You couldn't process words, much less speak, at this moment.

You shrieked when Wanda bit you hard. You squirmed when Wanda's mouth didn't stop leaving darker marks than before. "Y/N.." She groaned. "I want you to thank Natasha for this." Your mouth hung open as the length of the cock continuously slid up and down your wet pussy. "Thank her for the both of us. Can you do that?" You wanted to say yes, but the feeling of pure bliss was coming, and you didn't want it to stop.

Neither did Wanda, but this was just light fun. This was the first phase.

Once you two made it upstairs, that's when the real fun would begin.

But for now, the hunping began to slow, as did Wanda's kisses on your neck.

She lifted her head and let go of your hands. Her cock remained still as she took her hands to your face. Pulling your chin down to look at her. "Don't make this difficult," Wanda warned you as you were coming down from your non-orgasm. You went to nod, but Wanda's other hand touched you. While Wanda's shaft was up against your thighs and pussy her fingers found your clit. Soaked and desperate for attention again, she slowly began circling it with precision.

"Look at the camera and thank my wife. Thank Natasha." Her pace increased, as did your breathing. You closed your eyes and opened your mouth.

"Thank-k.." Wanda's other hand reached your back and held you in place. "Keep going, Y/N."

"Th-thank you-u..." You moaned loudly. "Wanda!" "Don't stop!" Her middle finger was now helping you get closer and closer to the edge.

"Natasha-ah! Thank you!" You squealed as Wanda's fingers immediately left you. In an instant, your back slammed against the kitchen island as Wanda thrusted her cock against your clit. You stumbled in your heels and fell back onto the countertop. Your open legs and wet thighs on display for Wanda thanks to your dress riding up.

Wanda was in love with your body.

Meanwhile, you had yet to cum. You had never experienced something like this, and you were so thankful that it wasn't going to stop. "Come here." Wanda reached up and grabbed you by your wrists. Pulling you off the countertop and in front of her yet again. "Strip!"

You stumbled again as you tried to find your footing. Two times, you had been denied an orgasm, yet you couldn't help but feel a little shy and smile as you nodded and went to take your heels off for Wanda. But she stopped you forcefully, grabbing you by your arm. "Y/N.." She looked at your furrowed brows. "We talked about this earlier. I like for you to speak when spoken to Y/N." You nodded again. She was right. "I'm sorry."

Then, a smile appeared on Wanda's face. "There we go. But what else do we say? I'm sorry..." You tilted your head at her before it dawned on you. "I'm sorry, Mommy."

Wanda smiled wider and leaned forward to kiss you. "That's my girl. I'm sorry I had to grab you like that, but I want you to be good. Okay?"

"Yes, Mommy."

"Okay. Now, I only want you to strip out of the dress. Keep the tights and heels on for me." You nodded again as Wanda pulled you away from the kitchen and island and more towards the open space of the giant room. Closer to the camera. "Do it here." She turned to you and waited for you to get to work. Once you started, a smile never left Wanda's face. "You're so beautiful, Y/N." She said again, making you blush. "Isn't she Nat?" Wanda looked up to the camera while she walked around you. Hand stroking her wet cock.

All thanks to you.

Natasha twitched as her wet fingers slid over her swollen clit. She smiled and watched your dress hit the floor. "She's adorable," Natasha spoke to herself. But Wanda knew. She also knew Natasha was going to thoroughly enjoy what was to come.

You weren't sure what to do. Well, you knew you wanted to have sex; no, sorry, that's wrong- You knew you wanted to be fucked by Wanda, but you were in no position to make demands or ask questions. Since you stepped foot into this house, Wanda was in charge.

And you didn't want to upset Mommy.

So your anticipation built over the next few seconds as Wanda stared at your body. You could see it in her eyes that she was fascinated with you, which was nice. It felt terrific. But all you wanted was her touch again. To actually feel her again!

So when Wanda stepped right over your dress and put her hands on your body, you let out a moan just for her. Your thighs clamped together just as her lips found their way to your nipple, sucking it into her mouth, biting your breast. Her left hand landed on your other boob. Her fingers trailed to push it up and take it into her hand. Groping you. The rough feeling sending waves of pleasure all over your body. Her other hand found its way to your hip bone. Kneading and pulling you close. Forcing your wet thighs to push up against her cock. Begging for an opening.

You rolled your eyes back and spread your legs for Wanda's cock to slide right in and over your core. Both of your stomachs slamming into one another, making you put your hands on Wanda's back. Pulling her close. "Someone's desperate." She chuckled as you squirmed and nodded.

You wanted it so bad.

But you were denied once again as Wanda began to pull back. You immediately refocused your eyes and looked down at Wanda with a plead stuck in your throat as she lifted her mouth off your boob.

"Does someone want to cum?"

You nodded. "Please." Wanda smiled at that and kissed your chest up to your neck. Her cock sliding up and down your pussy. "Not yet." You went to whine, but Wanda stopped you. "Not here. Let's go upstairs." You looked down at Wanda to make sure she was serious.

Wanda slowly pulled her long red silicone cock from in between your thighs and grabbed your hand to lead you. "We'll go slow. Just follow me." You nodded and slowly did follow Wanda.

No matter how close, your legs felt like jelly.

"What about Natasha?" You asked as you hit the first step. "You'll be seeing her soon," Wanda replied with a smirk you didn't see.

The same style used throughout the house continued into the bedroom, shared by the woman placing you on the soft bed and the woman somewhere else watching you through a camera.

It was cute, and it seemed to suit Wanda for the most part.

"That's Natasha's side," Wanda said as she came back to you from closing the bedroom door. You went to move, but Wanda stopped you. "Don't." Stern but gentle. You were picking up that that's how Wanda was. She was caring, giving, and someone who you could easily trust. But slowly, she showed you she can be strong, disciplined, and hard.

No pun intended.

"Scoot back a bit." You did as you were told and moved your ass away from the edge. Wanda sat down on the bed right next to you. You felt her soft legs brush up against your own, making you react. "You've been wonderful so far tonight, Y/N." Wanda's left hand started rubbing up and down your thigh. Your kegs spreading themselves open without being told. "See." Wanda brings her hand closer to your center. "You're so good. I know you can't wait to have my cock inside you, huh?" You rolled your head over to Wanda as your body begins to buckle as her hand brushes over your clit.

You have never been teased for this long.

"I can't wait, Mommy." You whine. Wanda smiles. "Thank you for being honest, baby." She leans into you and kisses your lips. Each kiss becomes shorter as your moans grow louder.

Wanda keeps her hand touching your wet folds, only stopping to grab your hand and place it on her cock. You freeze momentarily. "It's okay." Wanda breaths over your ear. "I just want to feel your hand jerk me off. Just for a bit, baby." Wanda kisses the side of your face and is happy when your hand slowly goes up and down her length. The action causing the inside of the strap to push up against Wanda's clit. "What's the safe word Y/N?"

"Mango."

Wanda hums. "Mommy is so proud of you." Wanda moans before her hand slips down, finally inserting two fingers inside you.

Through the camera in the corner, Natasha watches you moan the loudest you have all night. A smile on her face as the naked redhead flops her head back to her pillow as she works herself closer to another orgasm of the night. "Fuck her, Wanda. Make her your slut."

You continue pumping Wanda's cock as you feel yourself tighten around her fingers. You try not to, but you fall flat on your back as the pleasure is reaching its tipping point. "Oh god. You're so tight, Y/N! My cock is going to wreck that pretty pussy of yours!" Wanda is overjoyed at the sight of your body covered in sweat as her two fingers slide in and out of you. The faster and faster she goes, you shut your eyes tight as the pressure builds. You let out a vital moan as you feel the bed shift.

Wanda, getting up on her knees, moves her body closer to you. Your hand still on her cock lazily jerking her off as Wanda doesn't stop her assault on your pussy. "Is someone going to cum?" Wanda asks through ragged breaths as she's having just as much fun as you. Your mouth drops open, and you go to speak. But you just moan as your eyes roll back. "Going to cum for me, baby? Is my Y/N going to cum?" Wanda teases as her fingers curl inside of you. "Answer me." She demands but doesn't slow down.

"Ye-s! Momm- fuck!! I'm going to cu-mmm! I want cum so bad! Can I cum?!" The rest of the words get lost in your throat as Wanda pulls your legs back and has you spread so she can pump her fingers deeper into you. "You want to cum for me?" You rapidly nod as your brain goes dizzy. Wanda smiles as she runs her left hand through your hair before pulling the back of your head up. "Cum for Mommy!" That puts you over the edge. Your legs shake. "Holy fuck! I'm cumming. Oh my god! I'm cumming!"

Hearing your moans and pleas pushes Natasha to cum at the same time you do. A bliss-filled smile on her face as she removes her right hand from her center but keeps her left hand pressed on her throat until she's close enough to see stars.

She wonders if Wanda will do that to you tonight.

"That's it, baby." Wanda praises you as you come down from your high. Her fingers coated in you as she pulls out, making you whine at the loss. "It's okay," Wanda says, but when you look over, her eyes are on her hand. Not you. She also knows you're watching but doesn't pay you any attention as she slips her two Y/N-coated fingers into her mouth.

She moans and savors the taste of you.

She would never admit it, but you were almost more addicting than Natasha.

You tasted sweet, and Wanda wanted more. You watch her hand silently reach down to your spread pussy and slide the same two fingers between your folds. Careful not to brush past your clit.

She knew how sensitive it was at the moment.

You watch the finger shine in the bedroom's light before her tongue runs up the length of her middle finger before she finally looks at you. "Have you ever tasted yourself?" You shook your head. "No, Mommy." Wanda brings her fingers to you. "Open for me." You let your mouth drop open. Tongue flat as Wanda's fingers lay down on the pink bed. You close your lips and suck on her fingers.

A moan gets stuck in your throat.

You love the way you taste.

"I taste good, Mommy." Wanda smiles at you widely and nods. "Yes, you do, Y/N." She would like to think that she finger fucked you, dumb. Made you a submissive pet. To be hers. But Wanda doesn't know you.

She doesn't know how correct she'd be.

She doesn't know that you just had one of the best orgasms of what you're now realizing is a pretty bland, sex-filled life.

She doesn't know that something did happen when her fingers were inside of you. A switch got flicked on. Not only were you hers for tonight. But you wanted to be Wanda's for every night. You wanted more.

One app turned you into a dumb submissive little slut.

Your eyes dropped from Wanda's to see your hand was still on her fake cock. "Mommy?" You asked. "Yes." Wanda tilted her head with a smile. "I want more." You said, bringing your eyes up to hers. Both are blown out with lust. "I want your cock."

Wanda giggled, making it jump. "Where do you want my cock?"

Before you could answer, a cell phone started to ring. You knew it wasn't yours based on the ringtone and Wanda's reaction of looking in the corner at the camera. "Hold on." Wanda gently let go of your head and moved off the bed to her bedside table. Your lips curled into a smile as you watched her 7-inches jump with every step.

As Wanda picked the phone up, you looked over her body once more. You couldn't believe the natural beauty she had. Her body was yours to worship. Well, yours and "Natasha!" Wanda exclaimed purposefully.

You looked up at Wanda, holding her phone up.

FaceTime call, you thought.

You move your body slightly to lay more in the middle of the bed. Your head closer to the pillows than before. You try not to listen to Wanda and her wife's private conversation just in case it's important, but when "she's being such a good girl" gets said, you turn your head to Wanda, who is already looking at you. She winks at you, causing your stomach to flip and a giddy smile to appear on your face. "You missed her tasting herself?!" Wanda makes a gasping sound. "Tasha!"

"Give the phone to her Wands." Wandaobeys her wife, crawls onto the bed, and gives you the phone. On the screen is Natasha lying on a bed with her red hair sprawled out behind her. Her green eyes piercing you through the screen. She looks so fucking beautiful. More so than the photos on the hush. You see why her and Wanda are together.

It made a wave of jealousy wash over you before remembering the reason you were here.

You leaned up against the pillows as Natasha looked over your face. You quickly peered over the phone to see Wanda on her knees in front of your center. You smiled and wrapped your legs around her. Her mind getting the message, bringing her hands up and down your thighs. Just her touch was enough to make you hold in a moan.

"You've been doing so well, Y/N," Natasha told you. "Thank you." You shyly replied. "Don't be nervous just because I'm here now."

"You were always here," Wanda added, making Natasha wave her off. But only you could see it being in a smile to you. "Mommy says you taste sweet. Do you agree?" It'sthenthat you notice Natasha's right arm appears to be moving out of frame from the camera.

Natasha was fingering herself to you.

And she called Wanda Mommy.

"Yes, I do. Mommy's right." That made Natasha buck against herself, and you felt pride in making that happen. But your face of pride quickly disappeared when you felt Wanda's cock rub up and down your wet pussy. The tip sliding across your clit. Her movement growing faster. "Wand-mommy!" You moaned.

"Daddy just wants to see you taste yourself."

Daddy? But before you could question what you already knew, Wanda accidentally pushed half the length of the cock into you. Making you scream in pleasure because you and your pussy needed it.

You held tight to the phone as Wanda didn't give you time to adjust to the size before she started pulling back out of you. Your body practically going limp as you tried your best to remain strong for Mommy. And Daddy. "Take it, Y/N. It's okay. It's okay!" Your eyes focused back to Natasha as she wore a smirk. You nodded and saw Wanda smile.

"Come here." Wanda pulled out of you and reached down to place her hands on your arms. "Trust me, baby." She spoke softly as she started pulling you onto your black, tight, covered knees. You didn't realize that she grabbed the phone away from you in the process.

Wanda held onto you as she moved to the edge of the bed. She slid off to stand straight up but kept you on it. That's when you realized. With an arch of the back and on your knees, you were face to face with Wanda's cock. The very same that's covered in you.

"Go ahead." You looked up to see Wanda and the phone looking down at you. "See how you taste on Mommy's cock." Daddy said. "I-" You started to speak but stopped. Feeling a little embarrassed. "Have you never-" Wanda started but stopped when you spoke over her. "No, I have! It's just been a long time." Wanda's eyes soften. "I'll be gentle. Remember the safe word?" You nodded. "Mango."

"That's right, baby. Mommy will take good care of you. This is just for Daddy. Okay?" You nodded once again. "Okay."

"She's so good for you," Natasha said to Wanda as you got closer to her cock.

Just like with Wanda's fingers earlier, the fake cock showed how wet you had gotten it in the light of Mommy and Daddy's bedroom. You looked up to Wanda and Natasha. The former gives you an encouraging smile.

You reached your hand out to the cock and began stroking it before bringing your mouth to the base. With your tongue flat against it, you licked up from the bottom to the top. The ridges and feeling of it made you smile as the taste of your own wet pussy landed in your mouth. "Oh god." You heard Daddy moan.

You repeated the process again and again to ease yourself into the act. Soon enough, the tip of the cock was entering your mouth. "Let me know when it's okay for me to move Y/N." You looked up to Wanda and nodded as you pushed another inch into your mouth. Thankful for Wanda choosing now to be extremely kind.

You pulled your mouth off the cock and let a string of salvia fall to your chin. Wanda's hand was quick to wipe it away. "You're doing so good. Daddy is proud of you." You smiled widely and started stroking the cock faster as your mouth sank lower onto it. You gagged, of course, but that didn't stop you. You simply swallowed and kept pumping Wanda's cock into your mouth. Your tongue running up and down it as the cock felt good against your soft lips.

When you reached the halfway point, Wanda placed a hand on your head and started to move her hips.

"Mommy's getting a little restless, Y/N."

With the cock still in your mouth and tears welding in your eyes, you looked up to see Wanda with her head thrown back, pushing the cocking further into you. "Oh fuck." Wanda exclaimed, making you moan at the sight before gagging again. "Baby, it feels so good on my clit. Oh my god!" Wanda moaned as the vibrations from your gag had her hands tighten in your hair. "Don't stop, Y/N!"

You weren't going to. If Wanda was going to cum you wanted to be the one to do it.

Determined, you brought a hand up and placed it on the back of Wanda's thigh, pushing her more into you. The cock sliding down your throat. "Oh baby, you're such a fucking slut!" Daddy spoke through her own moans as she watched her wife fuck your mouth. Wanda nodded in agreement and started pushing your head onto the strap.

The sounds of the wet cock, your gags, and the three of you moaning being the only thing to fill the room.

You made sure to push the base of the strap with every jerk you gave it, so it made Wanda buckle. Her moans and breaths becoming inconsistent. "Keep going, Y/N! Make her cum! Make Mommy cum!" You could hear Natasha's fingers rapidly fucking her pussy. You swirled your tongue around the shaft and moaned one last time before you pulled your head back. Letting the cock slide down your tongue out of your mouth. Coating your chin and chest as salvia dripped off of it.

You swallowed what you had left in your mouth and brought your hands up to Wanda's strap. You began to jerk it off, staring straight up at the camera. "Daddy, I want you to cum too. I want you to cum for me. I want you and Mommy to cum all over me." You acted like a slut for the two of them.

Natasha knew it couldn't happen, but goddamn if she wouldn't shoot loads all over that pretty face of yours.

Meanwhile, Wanda had her eyes on you again. Blown out and fully aware of the orgasm she was about to have. The center of the strap pushing back into her pussy and clit was enough to take her to the edge. But you. You on the bed, jerking her off.

That's what made her cum. Her green eyes looking into you. "Don't stop, baby. Don't stop, Y/N! Oh my God. Oh-ooh, my God!!!" Wanda gripped your hair harder than ever before as her eyes rolled back. Fingers holding your skull still.

The inside of the hardness ruined as she came.

At the same time, hearing her wife moan your name. Moan for you. Natasha came. Natasha came for you.

You sat on the bed as Wanda held you still. You were in awe as you watched Wanda start to come down from her climax. Her body was now in a glow of sweat that made her look sexier than ever. The grips on you loosened. For a split second, you swear you saw her green eyes turn red. But when she looked in your direction, you saw how soft they were. She smiled. You smiled back and got up on your knees. You grabbed the phone as it was about to slip from Wanda's hand. When you looked, you saw Natasha still recovering. "You did so good." You said to both of them, but mainly Wanda, in a hushed tone before pulling her close to you, and with Natasha watching, you kissed her wife on the lips.

She responded by pushing her lips into yours and putting her hands on your body to steady herself from almost falling.

Jelly legs and all.

"Let's get me out of this." You nodded and giggled as she did, too. With help from Natasha on the other end of the phone propped up on her bedside table, the harness finally fell to the floor.

Wanda sat back down on the bed and pulled your body in between her legs. With you still in your heels, her face was at eye level with your stomach. Her hands placed themselves on your ass, moving them up and down as her pink lips started kissing your stomach.

You blushed hard as not everything about tonight was new, but this was. This was intimate and special. And you couldn't do anything but love it. Your cheeks became more pink as you grew wetter with each kiss and lick Wanda's mouth left on you. Your hands placed themselves on her head. This time, it was your turn to run your hands through her hair.

You moved back a bit, but to place a kiss on top of Wanda's head, this made the older woman look up at you.

She reached up and pulled your chin down. A gentle kiss placed on your lips. "Come here." She whispered as your body fell onto the bed with hers.

Legs quickly become intertwined as her arms wrap around you. Her mouth immediately attaches to your collarbone as your breath moans into her ear. "Thank you." She moans as your hands grab onto her sides. "Thank you for tonight, Y/N."

You shake your head and kiss her forehead, making her look up at you before you kissed her face and lips. You never want to stop doing that. "No, Wanda.. thank you and Natasha."

You looked into each other's eyes. You realized another thing about tonight right then and there. A one-night stand or a relationship never made you feel how you felt in this moment.

Wanda had only ever felt this way about one person before.

Natasha watched the two of you and smiled. She succeeded in her mission for her wife to have a night like tonight.

Come morning, that app would be off your phone, and there would be no need for Natasha to ever use it for you again—and Vice versa.

Natasha watched you lean down and kiss Wanda's collarbone. Slowly working your way to her chest, kissing over her little moles and freckles. Wanda smiled and moaned at certain spots. "Y/N?" She said, looking down at you. "Yes?"

"I want you to take off your heels and tights."

You looked down and back up. "Are you sure?" Wanda nodded, yet you still looked at the phone for Natasha's confirmation. "Do what she says, detka." You sat up on the bed as the two watched you.

"What does detka mean?" You asked as you placed the right heel down. Wanda took the question. "It means baby, honey, sweetie. It's a term of endearment." You made an "ah" noise and took off your tights. "Any other questions?" Wanda teased.

That made a lightbulb go off. "Yeah..." You briefly looked at Natasha, who looked sleepy (probably due to the 4 orgasms she had) before looking at Wanda. "Nat- Daddy made me wear peach-colored lipstick. Why?" You were now fully nude for the first time tonight, making you feel free and closer to Wanda.

Just like she wanted.

You got on your knees and crawled your way up to the bed before flopping back down into the position you were in earlier. Your legs intertwined with Wanda. Arms around one another. Face to face. Wanda kissed you. "That's a good question." She laughed. "You see... before Natasha and I said the I Do's. We were more open.. kinda like this.." Wanda rubbed her hand up and down your back. "Natasha would bring home pets, toys, and pretty girls like you." Wanda smiled at the memory. But her eyes focused back on you. "And do you know what they always wore?"

"Peach." You responded to Wanda's praise.

"But don't worry, Y/N." Wanda pushed her head closer to you. To lay it on your shoulder. "None of them were ever like you." She kissed your shoulder. You kissed her head.

You two sat in silence for a moment before Wanda disrupted it. "I want to cum one more time." She spoke in a hushed tone. You nodded. "Okay." You replied because you would be stupid not to.

Wanda untangled herself from you and looked back at Natasha and the phone. Only to see her wife passed out. Wanda let out a small chuckle before moving Natasha to the phone charge. Keeping the call active.

Wanda lays back down and motions you over. Her pearly white show themselves as you place your legs over her. Half your body on her—half on the bed.

You begin to kiss Wanda as softly as possible. Almost as slowly as you are soft, you drag your hand across her skin. You feel the goosebumps your breath against her face sends across her body. Wanda moans another kiss into your lips as her hand places itself around your wrist, directing you to feel how wet she is. "It's for you." She says into your ear before shrieking because of the bite you place on her. It didn't hurt her. It was just surprising.

Truth be told, you just wanted to leave a mark.

But the mark you would leave behind isn't one that's visible.

You moan into Wanda as you slip your fingers inside her for the first time tonight. "You're so tight." Wanda whimpers as you don't slow. "Please keep going!" You push her one leg to the side with your knee so she can spread her pussy for you more. "Right there! Right there!"

Wanda wraps her arms around and holds on as you curl your fingers, hitting her spot. "Don't stop. Oh my god! Y/N Please Don't!" Wanda's mouth drops before slamming shut as the point is approaching. "You wanna cum?" You ask as you stare at her with her eyes closed shut. "Wanda wants to cum?"

This was your first time in the bedroom calling her Wanda.

She opens her eyes, shocked, but her face is flushed and red. Contorting as she is close. "Yes Y/N! Please let me cum!" She looks at you, pleading. "Moan into me as you cum. You can cum baby. Okay? Cum for me, Wanda. It's okay!" You and Wanda crash your lips into one another as she tightens around you. She smacks your thumb away from clit as she cums. Your fingers become coated in her, and you feel like you've just won the lottery. "That's it. That's it! Ride it out." You coax her and leave a trail of kisses across her forehead.

Her tight hold that her arms have around you loosens. Delicately, you pull your fingers out of her. Wanda winces and sighs at the loss of you. But is overjoyed with what just happened.

"Have you ever tasted yourself?" You ask, half teasing, half not. "I have." You bring your fingers closer to your mouth, but Wanda's hand grabs your wrist. "But not from you." Before you can protest, your fingers are in her mouth. Her tongue runs over and in between your two fingers. Moaning at the taste. Because of you.

Wanda pulls your fingers out quicker than you'd like. "Well?" You ask, but instead of an answer, Wanda leans into you and puts a hand on the back of your head to keep you in place as she French kisses a mixture of you and her into your mouth. Your stomach erupts with butterflies as you taste Wanda. Both of your moans are muffled in each other's mouths. You continue to make out with one another.

Eventually, you two swallow and come up for air but find each other still in the same position even after silence, and your lingering touches are the only thing.

"Wanda..." You open and close your mouth. Unsure of what to say.

You look down at Wanda, whose head has fallen onto your arm, and see her with her eyes closed. Her breathing slow. She's fallen asleep. You peer over to the plugged-in phone and see Natasha the exact same as before. You don't want to disturb Wanda, and as much as you want to stay and help clean up. She's asleep, and she's not yours. Tonight, you were her's.

But tomorrow, she would not be yours.

Plus, as much as you'd want to have... this... be your life. You can't. Natasha paid you to do a job, and you did it...

With a heavy heart, you begin to untangle and move Wanda. It's not easy at first. It's like once she falls asleep, she has dumbbells attached to her. But eventually, you move and place her in a more comfortable position.

You scoot yourself to the edge of the bed and pick up your heels and tights. You look for your dress before remembering its in the kitchen downstairs. You make your way to the door of the bedroom and unlock it. Opening it, surprised to find out it doesn't creak like every door in every house you've ever had. "Huh." You open it wider and look back just in time to see Wanda crinkle her nose in her sleep and flop onto her side. You smile at her cuteness and pull the light switches down.

Yeah, they have that kind.

You close the door, but just before it closes, you take one last look at her figure lying on the bed, next to it on the table Natasha. You both give them a smile and shut the door.

Lucky for you, Wanda didn't turn out the kitchen lights, so instead of stumbling around in the dark, you find your dress on the floor easily. After tossing it into your hands, you begin to locate your phone. But for the love of God, you can't recall where you had it.

Your heels click as you walk from one side of the house to the other- "Y/N?!" You scream, jump, and almost break your ankles because of the voice from behind you. "Wanda!" You exclaim as you come down from your fright.

"What are you doing?" Wanda asks as she rubs sleep out of her eyes. "Me?! What about you? You're supposed to be sleeping?!" Wanda looks you over with a frown on her face; she says: "Are you leaving?"

The way she says those three words made you look at her like you just broke her heart. "Wanda-" She shakes her head and steps off the last step in the stairs. "Don't leave." She walks up to you and takes your hand in hers. Ignoring the guilty look on your face. "Come on." She starts to pull you, making you stumble before you stop and remove your hand free. "Wanda, stop!"

The Sokovian turns around and looks at you with hurt written on her. "I don't want you to leave," Wanda speaks up. You go to open your mouth and fight that you have to. That you can't stay. You would tell her that tonight was one of the best nights you have had in a long time. You'd say that feelings are bubbling under the surface after one night with you and Natasha, so imagine what would happen if you stayed. You want to say that this was a job, and that's it.

In another life, you do those things.

In another life, it works out. In some, it doesn't.

But here. In this one. You look at Wanda and drop your dress, tights, and heels on the floor.

"Till morning."

"Till morning." She repeats.

That night, you fell asleep with your arms wrapped around Wanda Maximoff.

In the morning, when Natasha Romanoff arrives. She smiles to see that the cameras were right. You never left.

In case it wasn't obvious. Natasha wanted to keep you around. For her and Wanda. So when she opened the bedroom door to confirm that yes, you were still here. Cuddled up with her wife, Wanda. Natasha widely smiled.

"Moya Lyubov," Natasha whispered as she sat on the edge of the bedroom next to her sleeping wife. She brushed hair that had fallen onto her face. But it was no use. Wanda was a dead weight when she slept.

That you didn't know. Which is why it's a wonder how or why Wanda woke up when you were trying to leave last night.

But you woke up when you heard whispering. When your eyes peeled open, you smiled before remembering that you weren't supposed to stay over. But Natasha must've sensed or seen the panic on your face. "It's okay. I'm glad this happened. I wanted it, too." Natasha spoke as her eyes went from Wanda to you.

Natasha sat there as she just looked at you and Wanda. "So now what?" You quietly asked, unsure of what to do. "Now.. this..." Natasha gestures to the three of you. "Transaction is done." She smiles, hurting you. "Oh." You take a breath. "Okay." You go to move, but Natasha stops you.

"This one is done." She says with a smirk that you pick up on. "Oh.. okay." You say again but with a smile, making Natasha laugh. "But you'll have to use the app every time." But Natasha just shook her head.

You never used that app again after the first night.

After one week, Natasha and Wanda stopped paying you. After one month, you had two girlfriends. After three months, their home became your home.

So yeah, Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff were stuck at some point in life.

To be more specific, their marriage was stuck.

But that's where you came in.

Happily married to both.

dividers by @/benkeibear

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lizthewriter · 3 months

Text

pretty isn't pretty / peter parker

PAIRING mcu!college!peter parker x insecure!fem!reader

SUMMARY you feel insecure about your apperance, but peter let's you know he thinks the world of you. (blurb).

TAGS mcu!college!peter parker x insecure!fem!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, peter parker is a good bf

QUOTE "i could change up my body and change up my face, / i could try every lipstick in every shade, / but i'd always feel the same, / 'cause pretty isn't pretty enough anyway," - pretty isn't pretty by olivia rodrigo

WORD COUNT 600

WRITTEN 12.30.2023

you stared into the bathroom mirror in peter's microscopically sized apartment. every little blemish was picked apart, every little imperfection taken notice of. you raise a hand to your cheek, a dull expression haunting your eyes. is this what people saw everyday? is this the person they waved hi to in the halls, the person they interacted with in lab? is this the sight people were subjected to?

"- and i was thinking maybe we could grab a bite to eat while we're out anyways, my tr- whoa, what's wrong?"

your beautiful, kind, lovely boyfriend leaned into the bathroom, watching you with concern. peter was perfect in every way imaginable. he had a handsome, adorable face, clear skin, amazing build, and a good height. he was intelligent, witty, sweet. how could he ever want to be with someone like you?

"nothing," you responded weakly, tfying to muster a convincing smile. "thai again? you'll have to give me some time to get ready -"

"hey, no! we don't do that," peter said, giving you a look that was half-reprimanding and half-concerned. honestly, did you even deserve him? "we don't close up on each other, right? that was a deal we made. talk to me, babe, please." he had grabbed your hands in his, looking at you with those warm puppy eyes you couldn't deny.

no longer could you meet his eyes. you drew your hands away, rubbing at the back of your neck. your eyes suddenly found their attention latched onto the new makeup you had bought recently, various differenr shades of lipsticks and such glaring back at you. "i- am i pretty?"

peter seemed flabbergasted by the question. "uh, no. i think you're very pretty, actually. like, the prettiest girl i've ever seen in my whole life and-"

you stopped him before he could continue with a gentle hand pressed to his chest. "no, peter, not do you think i'm pretty. am i pretty?"

the sadness in your eyes gave him more cause for concern. with your head directed towards the floor, he had to take a knee to look up at you, to force you to look at him. "hey. hey. where is this coming from, huh? is someone saying stuff to you? someone online, or?"

"i don't know," you whispered. it felt uncomfortable in your own skin. you never felt good enough. you never felt smart enough, or strong enough, or pretty enough. especially pretty enough. "i guess . . . everywhere. online and in movies and on social media. in real life even. there are so many other girls out there - prettier, skinnier, better. i'll never measure up to them."

"hey," peter whispered softly, a smile dainting his face as he gingerly held your chin between his thumb and forefinger. "you can't compare yourself to other people, okay? beauty is subjective. in other cultures, things that might be considered beautiful could be considered unattractive to us. and maybe that's not what you want to hear. if you want to hear me tell you that i think you're beautiful, then i will, because you are beautiful, no matter what everyone else says. like in a oh-my-god-is-that-her-jaw-dropping-i-want-to-get-down-on-one-knee-and-propose way. seriously, i cannot believe my luck, like how could i have gotten - mmph!"

he let out a muffled groan of shock into your mouth as you pressed a firm kiss to his lips. when you pulled away, you rolled your eyes, grinning from ear to ear. "peter benjamin parker, you're incredibly kind, you know that?"

"correction, i'm incredibly right."

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #marvel #my writing #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my fic #writing #fanfic #— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]

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writerslittlelibrary · 4 months

Text

I'll protect you

masterlist apocalypse au masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3

summary: infected had been roaming the earth for years, and you, being born after the outbreak, just had to be special. what happens when a certain redhead finds out about your secret? (based on tlou part 2)

pairing: Natasha x teen reader

warnings: angst, guns, fighting, injuries

genre: angst

words: 5223

a/n: finally the apocalypse au is here!!! I’m pretty sure I’ll just make this a compilation of one shots rather than an actual story, but we’ll see :)

(reader is basically Ellie, just with some big twists 🫣)

(If you played tlou part 2, but haven't seen any mcu movies, it is still totally possible to read this fic, as Natasha will just be an unknown character for you. If you've seen the mcu movies, but haven't played tlou part 2, it might be a bit more confusing)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

Natasha walked through the streets, her gun in her hand, ready to shoot anything and anyone that would dare come her way. She had been in Seattle for a while, and even though the streets were destroyed due to the bombings, a lot of the building were still standing. They were probably fragile and looked extremely unstable, but they were still there.

She carefully entered an apartment building, scared to get either jumped by Scars or Wolves again. She had run into both of them before, and she wasn’t much of a fan.

Her shoulder still hurt from the arrow that Scar shot her with…

After going up the floors slowly, ensuring the hallways and rooms were clear, she found a stable, and somewhat clean looking room almost all the way at the top. The stairs were blocked, keeping her from going further up, and keeping others from being able to sneak up on her.

The only entrance to the floor was the stairway, and that was exactly how Natasha liked it.

She checked the room one more time before setting her backpack down next to a sleeping bag on the floor.

She checked the sleeping bag over, and it didn’t take long for her to realise it had recently been slept on. She reached for her gun immediately, keeping it close to her, and she searched through the room for supplies or a bag of any kind.

It didn’t take long before she found one. An army green bag was stashed into a small hole under the desk. It was obvious someone tried their best to hide it.

Natasha looked through the bag, finding nothing that she didn’t already have. Once she checked the smaller compartment, her heart stopped for a second. She had found a stuffed animal. The bag belonged to a child…

Natasha dug through the bag a little better, finding an old, damaged notebook. It had clearly been used a lot, and Natasha admired the artwork as she flipped through the pages.

“Drop it,” a voice behind her suddenly said, and Natasha could hear a gun being loaded. She carefully laid the notebook down, raising her hands and turning around to face to gun. Turning around to face you. You were just a child…

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

Walking around the city was boring, especially because you had to stay hidden and on the look-out for Scars and Wolves. Moving around the city was a lot harder and went a lot slower with those guys around.

You had met some of the Wolves years ago, when they still called themselves the Fireflies and were on some holy mission to make a cure for all of humanity.

You never bought their shit, and even though you grew up in a QZ, close to a Firefly nest, you never believed for even a second that a cure could ever be made. That was, of course, until you got bitten, and you survived.

You had tried to get out of the QZ, wanting to leave the quarantine zone and explore the world by yourself. You hated living in the QZ. It may have been safe, but it was far from ideal.

When you left, you had to go past hundreds of soldiers, making your escape a whole lot more difficult. Luckily you had always been good at sneaking around, being quiet and not making a sound.

Once you were out of the QZ, it didn’t take long before you ran into a hoard of infected, and when you managed to only kill a few, due to your bullets running out, you had tried to run, fighting off any infected that came at you with your knife. You were pretty successful, apart from the fact that one of the Clickers had managed to bite your arm.

You were upset to say the least, and frustrated that you had been so stupid to leave a safe place for some idiot adventure. You spend what you thought was your last two days in an apartment you found.

You didn’t want to turn, but you were out of bullets and you were to afraid to kill yourself with your knife, so you didn’t, instead settling on just waiting it out.

After waiting two or three days, you still hadn’t turned, and after inspecting the bite, you settled on the fact that it had not gotten worse over the days. The infection seemed to have stopped, and even though you were confused, you didn’t really question it.

After travelling around on your own for a while, you were found by a group of Fireflies, who, during a medical check-up you had no say in, discovered your bite mark.

They locked you up, performing all kinds of tests to make sure you were still sharp and alert. Eventually, after about a week, they settled on the idea that you were not going to turn, and that you could be the answer to making a cure.

You didn’t really know what that meant, and you didn’t really care as you were finally allowed to get out of the chains and go to an actual room.

Occasionally, Fireflies would enter your room to perform some more tests, taking your blood and asking follow up question on what exactly happened, and what you did after you were bit. You didn’t really bother to question them, because if you were actually the key to making a cure, you would want nothing more than your life to mean something.

You were only 12 when you got to the Fireflies, and you hadn’t met a single Firefly that was around your age. That was, until a 16-year-old girl snuck into your room.

Her name was Abby, and she told you she was the daughter of the doctor who could make a cure. She became your best friend, and she was there for you when the Fireflies announced you had to go into surgery. Dr. Anderson assured you everything would be fine, and after the surgery a cure would exist.

What he failed to mention, however, was that making a cure would cost you your life.

You didn’t know that, of course, nor did Abby, as she walked with you to the operating room, trying to help calm your nerves.

You were scared, and you didn’t really had a good feeling about the situation, but you didn’t really bother to question it, knowing the only goal the Fireflies had was to make a cure. They wouldn’t endanger your life, would they?

It was Abby who killed her own father that day. It was Abby who got you out of that hospital. It was Abby that helped you run as the Fireflies hunted you down.

No one knew it had been Abby, except for you, and her father as he laid dead on the floor of the surgery room.

Abby found out you wouldn’t survive the surgery, and she had asked the other Fireflies if you knew that. They lied and told Abby you did, and that you were still okay with it. Abby knew you better then that, and she knew you would never lay down your life for the possibility of making a cure.

When Abby discovered you weren’t the first immune person the Fireflies had tried to make a cure with, she was furious, knowing you were just another experiment to them. You weren’t going to survive the surgery, and the chance of making a cure was near to zero.

And so, Abby had made the hard call to try and safe you, even if it meant going against her own father to do so. She had told him to let you go, but he threatened her, saying the surgery was the only hope humanity had left. It was one of the hardest things Abby had ever done, but she was determined to safe your life.

After you two had left the hospital, she drove you far away from it, heading for Seattle.

You two stayed in Seattle for a while, but it didn’t take long until you were kidnapped by the main group inhabitating it.

The Wolves.

The Wolves had tried to get you on their side, but you simply refused, all the while Abby was pretty quickly convinced with everything they were offering. They had food, apartments, safe places to stay and work, and even schools.

Abby had tried everything to get you to stay, but you had simply refused, saying you were afraid they’d find out about your immunity and they’d try to kill you to.

You simply didn’t trust them, and so, you and Abby went separate ways.

You were 14 when you found Jackson, a town not to far from Seattle. They had taken you in and cared for you, and when Joel found out about your immunity while seeing you breathe spores on patrol, they hadn’t tried to kill you.

Joel, Tommy and Maria were the only ones that knew about your immunity, and they kept it a secret as they helped you hide it.

Joel helped you when you tried to hide the bite with a chemical burn, and a girl from Jackson had given you a tattoo to cover that scar. You were pretty happy with how it turned out. It was safe and hidden, not to mention it looking absolutely badass.

When you were 15 and a half, someone in the town had information of trading with an outsider group. They told you they wanted information on one of their deserters, and when you heard it was about a blonde, muscular woman around 20, you knew you had to go look for her. Abby was there when you needed her, and now you wanted to return the favour.

That’s how you ended up in Seattle, staying in the apartments high of the grounds, away from the floods and the Wolves and you avoided the Scars high up in the air.

You had been in Seattle for a least 6 months now, and you were yet to find Abby, although you were certain you were getting closer. You had gotten multiple leads of the scars looking for a woman that fit her description.

What on earth had Abby gotten herself into this time? Not only the Wolves, but the Scars were looking for her as well.

That’s how you ended up in this position, gun pointed at the red-headed woman as she stood there with your stuff in her hands.

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

“What are you doing here?” you demanded, and Natasha tried her best to give you a reassuring smile. “I’m not here to hurt you, I promise,” she explained, but you kept the gun pointed.

“I don’t mean you any harm. Do you think you can put the gun down?” Natasha asked you, but you just shook your head.

“How did you find this place?” you asked her, keeping the gun pointed at her head.

“I just stumbled across it-”

“Did the Wolves send you?” you interrupted her, and Natasha looked confused for a second before realising you must’ve ran away from the Wolves. She shook her head.

“I swear I was just passing through, looking for a place to stay for the night,” she explained, carefully taking a small step closer. “You can trust me, I promise. I’m not going to hurt you,” she assured you, but you were careful to believe her.

“Why on earth should I believe you?” you asked her, yet Natasha merely shrugged.

“I’m not a Wolf, and my face isn’t covered in scars,” Natasha reasoned, and you looked her over before slowly lowering you gun, keeping it loaded just to be sure.

“I’m Natasha,” Natasha said as she slowly lowered her hands. “What’s your name?” “y/n” you told her, and Natasha smiled at you. “That’s a beautiful name. How long have you been here?” she asked, and you merely shrugged.

“I dunno. I don’t care. I’m just passing through,” you said, repeating what Natasha had said just now, and watching as a smirk formed on her face.

“Just passing through huh? You seem to be on incredibly high alert for someone who’s just passing through. Why would the Wolves have send me? Are they looking for you?” Natasha pushed, wanting to know what you could possibly be doing in one of the most dangerous cities she had crossed.

You simply shook your head, putting the safety of your gun back on and putting it away in your belt. “You’re good with asking questions, but I’m not stupid,” you told her, taking a step closer and walking around her.

Natasha seemed to get the hint, and she moved around you as well, taking a step away from your stuff and letting you put it back in your bag.

“What are you doing here, all on your own?” she then asked you, and you smirked slightly as you shook your head. “Just passing through, like I said.”

Natasha smirked at your stubbornness, before deciding to open up herself, hoping that would help you trust her. “I’m looking for my sister. The last message I got from her came from Seattle,” Natasha explained, and you stopped packing your bag for a moment as you looked at Natasha, confused as to why she’d tell you such a thing.

“Are you looking for someone too?” Natasha urged, and you sighed slightly as you finished stuffing your objects in your bag.

“Maybe your sister joined the Wolves. You aren’t allowed to have any contact after that,” you explained, and Natasha simply nodded, thinking for a moment before speaking again.

“Did the person that you’re looking for join the Wolves?” she asked, and you looked down, not knowing what to say. “Maybe we can help each other,” Natasha suggested, and you looked at her confused.

“Why would I trust you?” you asked her, and Natasha merely shrugged.

“If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it by now,” she told you, and you glanced at the gun strapped to her thigh.

“Fair point,” you told her, walking to the desk and using a key to open the top drawer, taking out some bullets and medicine.

“So that’s where you hid the useful stuff? Smart,” Natasha commented as she watched you load your stuff into your bag, making sure to keep her distance. “Are you planning on moving locations?” Natasha asked you, and you nodded.

“Scars build bridges high up to get around the Wolves and the flood. I’ve been using the bridges as well, but sometimes they sent patrols through the routes. The patrols are always small, yet I still don’t want to be here when they arrive,” you explained, walking to the door and checking if it was clear.

“Can I come with you?” Natasha asked, and you looked at her for a moment, contemplating on letting her go with you.

You didn’t really trust her, how could you, you just met. Yet you also didn’t get a bad feeling with her, and you liked that. You simply nodded at her question, and Natasha smiled as she took out her gun.

“Did you see anyone come up here when you did?” Natasha asked, scanning the halls.

You shook your head, taking the safety off your gun as you walked to the stairway.

When you made it to the stairway, you spotted seven figures on one of the bridges, heading straight towards your location.

“I do now,” you said as you motioned for the group of Scars approaching you.

“What do we do? This is the only way down?” Natasha asked as she loaded her own gun.

“Not exactly…” you told her, pointing to the other side of the hall. “There’s a stairway over there, and it’s never used by Scars…” you explained as you trailed off, checking the location of the patrol group before making your way towards it.

“Why do you say that with such hesitance?” Natasha asked, and you made an awkward face as you opened the doors.

Clickers could be heard coming from every direction, and Natasha grimaced as she realised that was your only way out. “Can you be quiet?” you asked her, and Natasha nodded as she screwed a silencer on her gun. She handed one to you, and you took it gratefully as you screwed it on your own gun.

You were so screwed…

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

After you and Natasha had cleared one floor, avoiding the Clickers and only taking out the Runners, you had made it to a second floor.

The only problem, you could see the amount of spores floating around through the small glass window in the door. Natasha took out her mask, but you didn’t, as you didn’t have one.

“You don’t have a mask?” Natasha asked you as you slowly shook your head, not wanting to tell her about your immunity, but not really seeing any other option than to go through the spores.

“It’ll be fine,” you assured her, but before you could open the door, Natasha grabbed your arm.

“That many spores will take you life within seconds,” you told you, and you gave her a small smile. “Trust me, it won’t,” you told her as you opened the door, walking inside and breathing in the spores.

Natasha was beyond confused, but when you didn’t start coughing she decided not to question it until after you had gotten out of the building.

You and Natasha made your way across the floor, mindful of any Clickers that may have been on it, yet the only infected you had seen were the two Bloaters in the hallway. They were easily avoidable, but perhaps you had spoken too soon as you got jumped from the side, a Stalker on top of you, trying to bite you.

You panicked and tried to fight it off, the commotion only alerting the two Bloaters as they now headed for the room you were in.

For a second you thought Natasha had abandoned you to safe her own life, but that thought soon left your head as the Stalker’s limp body fell on top of you, a bullet hole straight through it’s skull.

“Come on!” Natasha yelled as she pushed the Stalker off of you, grabbing your hand and dragging you to your feet, running to the nearest door and trying to open it.

“BLOATERS!” you yelled as you shot at the two infected behind you. The Bloaters were getting closer and closer, and yet Natasha could not get the door open.

“We’re gonna fucking die!” you yelled.

“Like hell we are!” Natasha yelled back as she finally pushed the door open, pulling you through it and immediately barracting it from the inside. The two Bloaters ran against the door, and a loud ‘bonk’ could be heard as they tried to push it open.

You leaned against the wall, hunched forward with a hand on your chest, trying to steady your breath.

“You okay?” Natasha asked as she tried to catch her breath herself, already checking on which way you could go. You tried to speak, but you were breathing so heavily you opted to just raise your thumbs.

“Why don’t the spores bother you?” Natasha then asked, and you looked up, surprised she asked so kindly.

You simply shrugged, wanting to put off telling her about your immunity for as long as possible. “I just saw you breath enough spores to take down a dozen men! Yet you seem to be fine,” Natasha stated, and you sighed.

“Spores just don’t bother me,” you told her, and she looked at you sceptically, wanting to continue looking for an answer, but when the doors started to get dents from the Bloaters running in to them so often, she decided against it, instead deciding to try and get down to the street as fast as possible.

“We can move through here, but it’s gonna be a bit of a squeeze,” Natasha said as she pushed a fallen closet away from an opening.

“I hope you’re not claustrophobic,” she then said, inspecting the small opening.

You walked towards her, taking a deep breath before speaking. “I can fit,” you told her, and she nodded.

“I’ll go first,” Natasha said as she pushed herself through the opening, turning back to you. “Try to stay close,” she told you, and you nodded.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you told her before taking a deep breath in, squeezing yourself into the opening. “Cozy,” you mentioned, and you heard Natasha let out a little chuckle.

“Let’s just go and get out of here as soon as possible,” Natasha said as she continued walking.

The two of you were going at a slow pace, but you were moving forward. That was until the ground beneath you became unstable, and after hearing a few cracks here and there, the ground gave up completely, sending you and Natasha tumbling to the floor below you.

But the fall wasn’t one floor, or two. You fell three floors down until your back collided with the ground, and some of the rubble fell on top of you.

Natasha fell down next to you, she herself being seemingly fine.

After a second of laying there, groaning on the floor, you heard growling and screaming coming from beside you.

You turned to look at it, and when you did, you immediately regretted it. It looked like a Shambler, but even more mutated. There were arms and feet and heads sticking out everywhere, and you couldn’t even tell where the head of the original person was.

It came running at you with an incredible speed, and while you tried your best to get the rubble off of you, Natasha scrambled up to help you, running towards you as fast as she could to help you get the rubble off.

Once the mutated infected got to close, Natasha turned around, shooting it a few times, but it wouldn’t die. It didn’t even look bothered by the bullets Natasha impaled it with.

You frantically tried to get the wooden planks and rubble from you, nearly crying when you realised you weren’t strong enough, and the mutated infected would probably get you. It came closer, and Natasha fell backwards as she kept shooting it.

Once it got too close, the weight of you three and the rubble pushed the floor to collapse, making you all fall another floor down.

Once you hit the floor, the rubble landed next to you, and Natasha helped you get up and dragged you as she ran to a place to hide. You both had landed in some sort of parking garage, a layer of water and old cars filling the space. The infected, which you had decided to call the Rat King, was quick to scramble to its feet, growling as it started to walk around, trying to find you two.

“Are you alright?’’ Natasha whispered, her hand still on your shoulder as you both crouched down behind the car.

You nodded, yet flinched slightly when you heard the Rat King growling.

“What the hell is that thing?” you whispered back, and Natasha shrugged a little while glancing over the car, wanting to get the Rat King in her vision.

“I have never seen anything like it before,” she told you. “It’s like it’s three infected grown into one…” Natasha trailed off, pulling you out of the hiding spot and out of the way, just seconds before the Rat King slammed itself into the car you had hid behind.

Natasha started running, dragging you with her as she ran towards a wall, pushing you behind it.

“Try and find a way out. I’ll distract it!” she told you, pulling out a gun as she started shooting at it. The Rat King seemed affected by the gun she used now, and it seemed stunned for a few seconds before it continued it’s way towards you two.

You turned around, running towards the wall of the parking garage, hoping you could try and climb out that way. You didn’t find an opening, and you were about to climb up when you heard Natasha yell to turn around. You did, and the Rat King was charging straight at you, growling and extending one of it’s many hands.

You ducked, running towards Natasha as she pushed you behind her, continuing to shoot at the Rat King.

The Rat King stopped for a moment, a part of him ripping off, and a Stalker fell off. It ran towards a car, hiding behind it. The Rat King itself quickly regained it’s posture, charging back at you. You shuddered, standing behind Natasha closely as she kept shooting at the Rat King.

You could have cried. You were absolutely terrified and it just kept going. It didn’t look like the Rat King had even suffered any amount of damage.

“Keep looking!” Natasha yelled, and you took another look at the Rat King before turning to the other end of the parking garage, trying to see if you could find an opening there. You heard Natasha’s gun firing, and before you could even reach the wall, the stalker from before jumped you from the side, taking you down to the ground.

You couldn’t move for a moment, the shock making panic run through your body. Once you regained your ability to think, you reached for you knife, stabbing the stalker in the head and killing it.

You stood back up, using a car to climb on top of a truck, making you stand high enough to reach the ceiling.

You found a vent, pushing some of the rubble away and finding a way to climb through.

“Over here!” you yelled at Natasha, looking at her as she was still shooting. How many bullets did she even carry with her? Seeing Natasha trapped in a corner, you took out your own gun, shooting at the Rat King. The moment your first bullet collided with the Rat King, it turned around, facing you.

It started walking towards you now, and you froze as you kept shooting. It got awfully close until, suddenly, it stopped moving, falling to the ground.

It groaned and screamed and moved for a few moments, until it finally settled, giving you and Natasha time to breath. You fell to your knees, moving into a sitting position to catch your breath. That thing must’ve been the scariest thing you had ever seen.

Natasha quickly came towards you, climbing the truck and kneeling next to you.

She laid her hand on your back, her other hand coming up to your cheek to turn you face towards her. “Are you okay, did it get you?” she asked you, and you shook you head as you closed your eyes.

“What the fuck was that thing?” you asked her, and she shook her head as she replied. “I have no idea. I’ve never seen anything like it. It looked to be some mutated version of a Shambler.”

You nodded, sighing deeply.

“Maybe that was patient zero?...” you thought aloud, and Natasha seemed to think for a moment before looking at you.

“Maybe, we are close to a hospital,” Natasha confirmed, and you nodded.

“Let’s hope we never run into such a thing ever again,” you mentioned, and this time Natasha nodded. “I found some vents, maybe we can get out through there,” you said, pointing towards the opening.

Natasha stood up, walking towards the vent and glancing inside, shining a flashlight in it to get a better look.

“It looks clear, and it’s probably the best shot we got at getting out of here,” Natasha confirmed, and you nodded as you stood up too, walking towards her. You looked around the parking garage one more time, confirming that there was no other way to get out.

When you turned around, Natasha motioned for you to get in first. You turned on your flashlight and crawled in, feeling even more squished than before.

After crawling for a little while, you finally found daylight, pushing the vent at the outside away and crawling out.

“Fucking hell,” you stated as you stretched, immediately recognising the three figures that were standing close by as Wolves. When Natasha crawled out as well, you pulled her up at her arm as fast as possible, ducking behind a crumbled stone wall.

“This day just keeps getting better,” you mentioned as you reached for your gun once more, ready to take the Wolves out if they got to close.

“Let’s try and get around them,” Natasha said as she laid her hand on your arm, pushing it down. “If they see us, we’ll just draw more of them,” she stated, and you nodded as you put your gun in your belt.

“What’s your plan?” you asked Natasha, and she thought for a moment before pointing towards a street. “We make it over there, follow the road down and we’ll get to a movie theatre. We can rest up there,” Natasha explained, and you looked at her sceptically.

“Are you sure?” you asked her, and she nodded.

“I’ve been staying there for a few days before I tried to make it further into the city,” Natasha explained, reaching for her silenced gun.

You reached for yours too, and Natasha laid her hand on yours again. “Only for emergencies,” she stated, and you nodded as you loaded it.

“I’m almost out anyway,” you told her, and Natasha checked her gun, mentioning that she was almost out as well.

“We’ll just try and not kill anybody then,” Natasha stated, as she checked the position of the Wolves before moving towards a cafe, climbing through an open window and disappearing behind it.

You checked over your shoulder, seeing the Wolves still looking the other way, before you too moved towards the cafe, following Natasha’s movements.

Moving through the cafe, staying low, Natasha led you to the back door, going through it and sneaking to the next building. You could hear the Wolves talking, but so far they seemed to be oblivious to the fact they were being watched.

You and Natasha made it all the way to the end of the street, and you didn’t appear to have been followed when you looked back.

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

After walking a few blocks, you two finally arrived at the movie theatre. You two got inside, barricading the door and plopping down on a couch, finally being able to catch your breath.

You sat down on the couch, dropping your bag at your feet as you sat back, exhausted from the days happenings. Natasha on the other hand, was still standing, telling you she was gonna try and find if the electricity was still working.

You acknowledged her words, laying back on the couch.

After a few minutes, the lights turned on, and you knew Natasha must’ve found some generator.

Natasha made her way back towards you, setting her own stuff by the couch in front of you.

“We can stay here for the night,” Natasha stated, sitting down on her own couch. You nodded, to tired to respond.

Natasha chuckled, seeing your exhausted state and deciding not to push you to talk anymore.

“Get some sleep,” she simply said, and you hummed in acknowledgement as you let sleep overtake you. Natasha laid down on the couch as well, she herself following close behind.

part 2

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @slut4johansson

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bittenbyyou · 10 months

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Inferior Flames (1)

MCU!AU | MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader | MCU!Spider-Man x Stark!Reader

genre: enemies to lovers, angst, slow burn, lil cute moments

description: Your father wants you to knock Peter down a peg. OR Peter is bitter because you’re an Avenger and he’s not.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: Tony Stark being your father is already a warning as to how ridiculous he could be lol, mentions of Spider-Man: Homecoming, references from Captain America: Civil War, idk where this would fit in the MCU timeline per se b/c I’ve only recently started watching all the Marvel movies.

a/n: maybe it’ll be a series? idk, if you like it, lemme know!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“Firefly, I need a favor.” Your father plopped onto the couch next to you, so you paused your show with the TV remote.

“What is it?” you asked, turning your body to give him your undivided attention.

“You know Spiderling, Spider-Boy?”

“Peter Parker, Spider-Man? Yes. How do you still not know his name?”

“My names are better.”

“Uh huh. Wait, he’s the one that rejected your proposal to become an Avenger.” You nudged him with your elbow, flashing a smirk.

“No, no. I don’t do rejection.”

“But he did turn you down.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to alleviate his frustration. “Sure. Whatever. Anyway, the kid wants to be an Avenger now. Been texting Happy nonstop about when’s the next mission and he’s wanting to see me tomorrow.”

You blinked twice and stayed quiet, a blank stare on your face as to why this was an issue. When he didn’t say anything, you gestured for him to elaborate.

“I don’t think he’s ready,” he added, crossing one arm over the other.

“You’re serious? Dad, you’ve never shut up about him ever since you gave him the suit. Even when I was abroad, I’ve seen what he can do. He’s amazing. You wanted him to be an Avenger.”

“I’m aware. But he said no and now… the ball is in my court.” The shit-eating grin on his face was soon replaced with a chuckle that sounded almost sinister.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, he turned me down and now he wants me back. God, I’m making him sound like an ex-girlfriend.” He shivered in disgust and you rolled your eyes. “Anyway, I get to turn him down now. It’s great.”

“So you’re turning him down because he turned you down first. Petty much?”

“Hey, that is not what’s going on here.” He turned his attention to the paused TV screen instead of meeting your judgmental gaze.

“Dad, that’s exactly what you’re doing. You’re really letting your pride stop you from recruiting someone as amazing as Spider-Man? Let Peter join.”

“What, are you in love with him or something? You think he’s so amazing?” he asked while doing jazz hands at the word “amazing.”

You wouldn’t call it love; it was more along the lines of admiration. During your time abroad, your father filled you in on all his adventures and antics so if anything, it was his fault as to why you were somewhat enamored with Spider-Man. Deep down, you knew your father adored Peter, so it was only natural you did too.

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“You can’t date anyone until you’re 21.”

“I’m telling Mom you’re being ridiculous.”

“I already told your mom and we’ve already established that I’m ridiculous,” he said proudly, as if it was a badge of honor.

“You told me you were proud of his decision to lay low.”

“I am. I was. But now the tables have turned and what kind of person would I be if I let him in so easily? The others think I’m crazy recruiting a 15 year old.”

“16 now actually,” you corrected.

“God, this is like deja-vu.”

You giggled. “I’m the same age as him and you’ve been wanting me to join too.”

“Don’t remind me. You were the first person to ever turn me down and I’m still recovering. I’m waiting for you to crawl back and beg me, saying ‘Dad, please! Let me be an Avenger!’ Like the kid is doing now,” he said, using a high-pitched voice when he was imitating you.

“Good luck with that. I have no interest in being an Avenger.”

“See,” he said, pointing his index finger at you, “that right there is why I need your help.”

You crossed your arms in the same way he did, skeptical of where he was going with this. “Go on.”

“I want you to pretend to be another recruit who wants to be an Avenger. I’ll tell him there’s only one position and make him work for it.”

“Dad…” you said sternly.

“What? He doesn’t know you’re my daughter. And I’m trying to protect him too. The kid’s been going off doing things on his own and not thinking clearly. He can wait on becoming an Avenger.”

“He stopped Vulture. He kept looking for those weapons when no one else would.”

“He’s reckless.”

“You’re using me to make him jealous.”

“A little,” he said with a shrug. “But I’m also looking out for him.”

“Uh huh.”

“He’s coming here tomorrow and I want you to battle him. If he beats you, he’ll get to join.”

“This is so stupid.”

“It’s genius, really.”

“You’re making a kid fight for something that you already want to give him.”

“No. Not yet.”

“You know he can’t beat me.”

Your father leaned in and pecked you on the forehead. “Exactly. Him losing will help him work harder to be better. This’ll give him that push he really needs. So will you help me?”

“Let me get this straight. You want me to fight Peter Parker and make sure he loses just so he doesn’t get to become an Avenger even though deep down, you want him to be one?”

“Precisely.”

“That’s the stupidest idea ever. And it’ll hurt his feelings.”

“No, it’ll build character. He needs to understand it’s not that simple. You can’t ask to become an Avenger and get it.”

“... But he can… because that’s what you wanted in the first place.”

“He turned me down so it’s only fair that he proves to me how much he wants it. Like a test. I’m testing him.”

“No. Dad, I’m not doing that.”

“I’ll enroll you in school right now instead of waiting for the following year.”

You sighed, contemplating his ridiculous proposition. He had adopted you when you were 10 on one of his missions overseas and has kept you a secret from the public. As much as it pained him, he could not bring you home right away because you required guidance on using your powers responsibly. You had to remain abroad for a while longer until the adoption forms went through and your mentors felt you were ready to leave the tiny village where you resided.

However, he and his wife Pepper, kept in touch and always checked in. He showed up every birthday and made it his mission to be a part of your life. Now that you were in high school and your powers were restored, he flew you into New York City right away.

It’s been a few months since your transition and you absolutely loved it. The Avengers who resided in the compound were very welcoming and so far, they were the only ones who knew of your existence along with your mom. Your father had yet to announce your identity to the world because he didn’t want the spotlight to overwhelm you. Originally he planned on having you relax a bit and then enroll you in public school next year, but going earlier was enticing to you.

“... Which school?”

“Spider-Man’s.”

“... Fine.”

“You do have a crush on him.”

“Shut up, Dad.”

The next day…

Upon entering the foyer of the Avengers Compound, Happy led Peter to where Stark was. The man stood in the middle of the main entrance hall, sporting a classy suit and sunglasses. Peter clenched his fists in determination, carefully reciting the words he wanted to say in his head since the car ride over.

“Hey kid. What do you want?”

“Mr. Stark,” he squeaked. He shut his eyes in humiliation, clearing his throat and lowering his voice a bit to sound more confident. Once his eyes fluttered open, he puffed out his chest and said, “I changed my mind.”

“You changed your mind,” Stark deadpanned.

“Yes. I want to be an Avenger.”

“You understand why I’m skeptical.”

“Um… yes, but—”

“Look, you turned me down last time and am I used to rejection?” Peter opened his mouth to answer but was immediately cut off. “The answer’s no, but I respected your decision. All that talk about looking out of the little guy—great—so what changed?”

“I’m ready for more than that now.”

“No, you’re not.”

“That’s not what you thought when I took on Captain America,” Peter argued.

“Trust me, kid. If Cap wanted to lay you out, he would’ve.”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows at the realization that he got off easy, questioning his entire existence.

Stark pressed his palms together and pointed at him. “You really want to be an Avenger?”

The boy nodded eagerly. “Yes.”

He inhaled sharply through gritted teeth. “See, here’s the thing: there’s someone else.”

Peter’s face fell, heartbroken at the thought of being replaced. “What—What do you mean there’s someone else?”

“Well, after you turned me down, I recruited someone else. If you really want to be an Avenger, prove to me you’re better than her.”

“Wait, her?”

“Yeah. You think you got what it takes?”

“Well it’s rude to attack a lady—”

“No. Gender equality’s a thing, right? You beat her up, she beats you up. You both end up in casts—”

“Casts?!”

“Suit up and let’s go.”

With no other choice, Peter obeyed and did what he was told. His thoughts were racing at the thought of battling someone to prove his worth. But this was his dream and he had to get out of his own head. After he finished suiting up, Happy led Tony and him to the outdoor training area that featured a wide-opened space with reinforced surfaces.

It had strategically placed obstacles to encourage agility and tactical thinking during battles. Additionally, the area incorporated holographic projectors to create any virtual landscapes to simulate specific scenarios for the Avengers to train in.

And that was where Peter’s eyes landed on a figure in the distance. You, who was practicing your combat skills with a large kung fu spear. The way you moved was calculated, graceful, like a beautiful yet deadly dance. You performed many high kicks and flips, mesmerizing Peter as your hands maneuvered the spear so flawlessly around your body. Your father and Happy watched you, proud smiles plastered on both of their faces.

“That’s who you’ll be battling today,” Stark said, clapping his hands together once to catch your attention. You stopped what you were doing and landed in a perfect split with the spear parallel to your body, noticing your father and Happy’s presence. You got up and rushed over, your eyes quickly finding its way to the boy in the iconic red and blue costume.

“Hi D-... Mr. Stark. Happy.” You turned to Peter, loving the fact that he didn’t have his mask on yet so you could finally meet him as him. He was far cuter in person, you weren’t going to deny that. “I’m [Y/N].”

Your dad wanted this “test” to be authentic, so you couldn't tell Peter you were, in fact, a Stark. Plus you didn’t look like a Stark anyway, with you being adopted and all. It’d be a cinch.

“P-Parker, Peter. Parker Peter—I mean, Peter Parker,” Peter said softly, shaking your hand. God, you were so pretty that it made him a fumbling mess. He wondered if you two were the same age.

“Great. Now that both you kiddos are here, you both know what you have to do, right?”

You and Peter looked at each other and exchanged awkward smiles. “Mr. Stark, I’m not comfortable battling a… um…”

“Girl?” you finished. “I’d be more worried about yourself, darling.”

The way the word “darling” rolled off your tongue caused Peter’s face to redden like a cherry.

“I’m not saying girls can’t battle, I’m just saying I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Are you going to hold back if the enemy is a woman?”

Peter opened his mouth to say something but to no avail.

“You said you wanted to be an Avenger. There’s only one position available, so we’re going to be testing you both. Happy will launch the simulation sequence and then you two will be fighting one-on-one,” your father explained.

“Good luck,” Happy said, trying hard not to laugh. The two men walked a safe distance away where they could observe you both.

“What’s the simulation sequence?” Peter called out before putting on his mask.

“We’re going to be launching drones at you,” Stark called back from afar with cupped hands.

“Drones?!”

“Yeah, we want to see how much you’ve improved!”

“In 3, 2, 1!” Happy shouted as he pushed some buttons on his phone.

You and Peter both stared up at the sky as a swarm of drones lined up in a similar fashion as the game Space Invaders.

“May the best Avenger win,” you said, sending him a wink. He laughed nervously as you immediately launched yourself in the sky. Peter gasped in awe.

“She can fly?!”

Hovering in front of the drones, you closed your eyes and pressed your index and middle fingers together, forming a "V" shape. Bringing the fingers perpendicular to your forehead, it felt as if you were beckoning an unseen force. With unwavering focus, you opened your eyes, and the spear you held multiplied tenfold, floating effortlessly beside you. Extending your arm forward, you pointed confidently at the drones, issuing a resolute command for the spears to launch their attack. Explosions scattered throughout the sky as you managed to wipe out half the drones with one attack.

“And she can multiply things. Great,” Peter huffed, launching a web at one of the drones to join you.

“She’s going to destroy him,” your father said, chuckling to himself.

“Kid, come back. Don’t be such a sore loser.”

Peter shook his head while removing his mask, muttering self-deprecating thoughts to himself at his performance. You watched as he walked away, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Did I go overboard?” you asked, a tinge of guilt eating away at your conscience. Your father chuckled and waved off your concern with a flick of the wrist.

“No, you did great. He’ll be fine.” He went after Peter and placed a hand on his shoulder to prevent him from going any further. “Hey. You put up a good fight.”

Peter spun around, exasperated and using his hands to express his frustration. “I lost. There was no way I was going to win. She can fly, she can multiply things, she can use telekinesis, she can breathe fire—is she part dragon? How was I supposed to compete with that?!”

You saw him pointing at you from afar, giving him a small smile but was only reciprocated with a frown.

Tony put on a contemplating face. “Is she part dragon…?” he mumbled. “Anyway, I told you that I had to find someone else after you said no. And she’s earned her place. I’m sorry you’re disappointed, but you lost fair and square.”

“But—”

“No buts. You aren’t ready. So lay low, be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and work your way up. Go to school, focus on classes, and finish that homework you’ve been putting off.”

“I don’t need to go to school.”

“Yes. You do. Even she goes to school,” Stark said, pointing over in your direction.

You went over to where Happy was, your eyes still glued on your father and Peter. “Happy, he looks so heartbroken.”

“I know. But it’s for the best. Kid’s too eager and knocking him down a peg might do him some good.”

“I feel bad.”

He patted your back and gave you a reassuring smile. “He will be okay. Your father appreciates your help.”

You immediately straightened your posture when you saw Peter come over with your father.

“Anything you want to say to [Y/N]?” your father asked, giving Peter a gentle nudge from behind.

“Congratulations,” Peter said, mustering up as much strength as he could to give you a smile. Because he really was happy for you, but it hurt for him. The smile didn’t reach his eyes and the pitiful gaze in yours wasn’t helping.

“Thanks. You did really well.”

“Yeah, but I have all the bruises,” he joked, pointing at his face in a circular motion. You took a step forward and placed your palm out in front of his face.

“May I?”

His eyes widened in confusion, but he nodded anyway. An ember glow emitted from your hand and all his bruises healed in a matter of seconds.

“You can heal people too? What on earth can’t you do?” Peter was both fascinated but also very annoyed at your perfection.

“I can only heal minor bruises,” you said quickly.

“Of course,” he muttered.

“Happy, take him home for me.”

“Got it. Come on, Peter.”

“Bye Peter,” you said, giving him a shy wave. He only gave you another meek smile before walking away. You glared at your father, who only let out a sigh of relief.

“Great job, kiddo.”

The next day at school Ned practically crashed into Peter, who was at his locker minding his own business.

“Dude, dude, dude!”

“Whoa, what is it, Ned?!” Peter said, a hand on his chest from the sudden heart attack that was his best friend.

“There’s a new girl and she’s so cute. Have you seen her yet?”

Peter closed his locker shut, wracking his brain for a moment when he saw an unfamiliar face today. “No, I haven’t. What’s her name?”

“Uh… I can’t remember. Was it [wrong name]? Or maybe [another wrong name]?”

Peter looked down the hall and somehow amongst a cluster of students, he spotted you walking towards him. Like a moth to a flame, his eyes somehow went straight to you and only you. Irritation overcame him as he remembered the battle from yesterday. How you beat him so effortlessly, so ridiculously cool and being all perfect. And now you’re at his school? What, were you mocking him?

“Ned,” Peter said, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Is that her?” He pointed at you and nodded his head in your direction.

Ned looked over in your direction and snapped his fingers. “Yeah! That’s her.”

“Dude, that’s the girl,” Peter muttered.

“Huh? What girl?”

He thought about how he sulked on the apartment balcony, venting to Ned about you. “The… girl… remember what I told you over the phone yesterday?”

It took a few seconds, but Ned’s brain finally clicked. “She’s the one that beat you? Her? Oh my god, you didn’t mention how cute she was!”

“Will you keep your voice down? She’s coming this way!” Peter opened his locker again and hid his face behind it. Ned shook his head in disapproval.

“Are you embarrassed? Come on. Challenge her again.”

“I can’t.”

“I’ll do it for you.”

“No, dude, stop. You aren’t supposed to know about her. Mr. Stark will kill me.”

“But she goes to our school.”

Peter hid his face in his locker until you finally passed. He let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling like he had dodged a bullet. That was, until Ned shouted out, “Hey! New girl!”

You stopped at the familiar label people were referring to you as. Once you turned around, you saw Ned’s huge smile while Peter still cowered in his locker. The boy you were walking with scoffed at Ned’s boldness.

“You don’t need to engage with them. They’re nobodies.”

“That’s not very nice, Flash,” you said, frowning at his poor choice of words.

“If we’re nobodies, why is she friends with Peter then, huh?” Ned exclaimed loudly. If a black hole could open up and swallow Peter whole, now would be the time.

“What, you know Penis Parker?” Flash asked you, incredulous at the new information. Peter carefully pulled his head out of his locker enough to take a tiny peek at you. He wondered what you were going to say.

“Yeah. I know Peter, Flaccid Flash,” you replied, bumping into his shoulder deliberately as you made your way over to Peter and Ned. The entire hallway filled with laughter at your stinging remark.

“Hi. I’m [Y/N]. I think we maybe got off on the wrong foot. How about we start over?”

Peter looked at your extended hand as if it was a foreign object, standing still as a statue. When his brain finally registered what you said, Ned had beat him to it, shaking your hand so fast like he was in the presence of royalty. “We would love to start over. I’m Ned. Peter’s best friend.”

You let out a laugh. “Hi Ned. It’s lovely to meet you.”

Without thinking, Peter grabbed your other hand. “Come with me.”

You didn’t have time to react and he led you to the nearest empty classroom, thankful class hadn’t started yet.

“What are you doing here?” he interrogated, letting go of your hand. You leaned against the wall, crossing one foot over the other.

“I go to school here now?”

“But why here?”

“Because… it’s a nice school?”

Peter placed a hand on his forehead, his jaw clenched as he thought of what to say next without sounding like an ass. “Look, you beat me and you’re an Avenger fair and square. I’m happy for you, really.” His words became soft and broken towards the end. “But seeing you reminds me that Mr. Stark will never be impressed with me. So can you give me space?”

His voice was frail but sincere. You got off the wall and gave him a nod. “Okay. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Thank you.”

Before Peter could leave, you asked him one last question. “Sorry, but could you tell me where gym class is? I have it first period.”

It took everything in Peter not to curse out loud. He had to fight back his bitterness and said through gritted teeth. “Yeah. I have it first period too.”

You smiled to yourself, trailing closely behind him as he led you both to your first class. Together.

Reblogs and thoughts are appreciated! Thank you!

Update: I might be in the middle of writing a part 2. :) Your support means a lot!

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #mcu peter parker #mcu spiderman #peter parker mcu #peter parker x you #peter parker e2l #peter parker x oc #peter parker #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman x reader #stark!reader #tom holland peter parker #inferior flames #my writing

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gunsandspaceships · 15 days

Text

Many degrees of Doctor Stark

It is widely known that 616 Tony has several doctorates. The number varies from 3 to 7, but it doesn't really matter whether he is 300 or 700% Doctor. He is one. And he doesn’t use his title 99.999% of the time.

Ok, but what about the MCU?

It is never mentioned whether Tony has a PhD or even a master's degree. Kinda weird. Both the absence of mentions and lack of degrees, since Tony is so smart and productive.

Let’s check, maybe he actually has some.

Here we have a file from a deleted scene from The Avengers (2012):

As we can see, the work is sloppy – there are inaccuracies in his hair color (it’s not black, it’s brown), and the fact that he speaks French was not included. Can we rely on this paper? Let’s not 100%, but we can still use things that don't contradict the movies.

The fact that he received his BS in Engineering from MIT does not contradict this, so we can mark it as valid. He started in 1984 when he was 14 years old and graduated in 1987 when he was 17.

We see no further education in the file. But we know something that this file doesn’t. We watched the movies.

Remember, in Civil War at 0:13:25, in the scene where Tony sees his parents for the last time, Maria tells Howard, “Be nice, dear, he’s been studying abroad”. Tony is 21 here, this is December 16, 1991. Looks like he is on winter break.

But wait… Didn’t he graduate in 1987 and stop then? Well, Maria tells us he continued.

Between 17 and 21 there are 4 years. What could he have done in these 4 years? A lot, right? He is smart and productive, we know that. A master’s degree usually takes 2 years. Tony could earn it in 1. 1 or 2, we still have 2-3 years that we need to fill with some kind of studying. I doubt he just went back and got another bachelor's or master's. That said, he was working on his PhD.

We don't know where. “Abroad” is a very broad concept. Maybe he went to Europe to study at Oxford? We do not know. Perhaps he stayed at MIT and just went somewhere else for the fall semester. We do not know. But he did go somewhere for (most probably) a PhD.

The question is: did he finish it?

Well, his parents died in Dec 1991, and we know from the first Iron Man (0:04:50) that Stane was the interim president of Stark Industries from that date until 1992. Most likely, Tony became CEO before his birthday, that is, May 29, which corresponds to the stated age of 21. He had a few months between.

We don’t know where he was in his degree at that time. But we know he is smart and productive. He doesn’t need 4 years to write a dissertation.

So, there are 2 options:

1) He did not complete his doctorate and devoted himself entirely to the company;

2) He completed it in the few months he had and then took over the company.

Here’s the evidence for the second option:

“Confusing matters more, a recently deleted LinkedIn profile for Tony Stark indicated he received doctorates in engineering physics and artificial intelligence.”

Source: https://alum.mit.edu/slice/who-iron-man

Given all the information and analysis we have, as well as a little logic, we can conclude that Tony has a Ph.D. Even two. He had time to do them. Why doesn't he use his title? Well, maybe for the same reason 616 Tony doesn’t? He doesn’t usually brag. Check out this post if you have any doubts about my statement.

Here are some additional hints:

He gave lectures at scientific conferences (IM1 and IM3 - Bern 1999).

His scientific expertise was not limited to engineering and his company's affairs (all the movies, but specifically I can point you to IM3– the scene with Maya Hansen and her Extremis-enhanced plants in Bern).

“He must have graduated after 1990, because the '90 Brass rat was the first one with the skyline on the edge.” MIT alumni commentary https://alum.mit.edu/slice/who-iron-man

Conclusion (actual): call him Doctor Stark, guys, he deserves it. Despite his modesty about his scientific achievements, Dr Stark has a couple of master's degrees and at least two PhD degrees in the MCU - in engineering physics and artificial intelligence.

#tony stark #iron man #marvel #mcu #the avengers #iron man 3 #captain america civil war #doctor stark

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elletheactualmenace · 3 months

Text

You Would do That for Me? - Pt. 2

Pairing: MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!fem!reader

Summary: Todays the day. You and Peter are going to confess your “secret relationship”. How will your best friends take it?

Warnings: swearing, Not in this part but is present in other parts -Verbal assault, Little but some physical assault, Catcalling, Bullying,

Word Count: 3.5k

a/n: Sorry this took so long, lifes been crazy recently. Sorry in advance to any star war lovers. Let me know if I missed any warnings. And also @kaleidoscopewritings19 you asked me to put you on my tag list so here! Im glad I could be of some help, and thanks for being interested in my writing! Anyways enjoy this part!

Thoughts = “Italicized dialogue”

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

“Peter!” Someone calls and Peter turns from his place at his open locker. He sees Ned walking over with a tired smile on his face.

“Hey,” Peter waves before turning back to his locked to pull books out and put them in.

“Guess what?” Ned asks spinning the lock on his locker, which was right next to Peters.

“What?”

“I found it.” Peter stops his movements. And he turns his head slowly to Ned with wide eyes.

“You found it? Like actually found it?” Peter asks in disbelief.

“Yeah.” Ned nods slowly so Peter catches it.

“How? Where?” Peter asks quickly. And Ned pauses, like he’s been caught. Peters brows scrunch in confusion.

“Okay, now, hear me out,” Ned starts chuckling nervously. “It wasn’t the official site, but-“

“You didn’t order it from a legitimate, original site?” Peter asks face palming. Ned really wants a Lego set that has been sold out for weeks, and desperate times call for desperate measures.

“I never said it was illegal.” Ned argues, opening his locker and quickly stuffing some of his textbooks in.

“So it was a scam?” Peter asks as Ned shuts his locker, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“Not a scam.” Ned counters.

“Definitely a scam.”

“No, no, no, Peter, listen to me, I know it isn't a scam, because my cousins, best friends, little brother also ordered from the website and it came." Ned says like he is trying to convince himself.

"I don't think that's a credible source, dude. Have you even met your cousins, aunts, friends, brother?" Peter asks skeptically, raising a brow.

"It was my cousins, best friends, little brother." Ned grumbled out with an eye roll. And Peter puts his hands up in defense.

“The fact that you have to correct him just proves the point more.” Peter hears your voice and before his eyes even meet you butterflies erupt in his stomach. He tries to push away the nervousness and act normal.

“See exactly!” Peter exclamins in your dereliction. Ned leans in close to Peter's ear.

“She’s only agreeing with you because she likes you.” Ned whispers in an annoyed voice. Immediately Peter's face goes bright pink in embarrassment. He hits Ned's arm and steps away from him so he can rub the back of his neck. Peter begs anything that may be listening that you didn’t hear Ned.

You couldn’t like him. He isn’t your type. You deserve someone who’s confident, handsome and in your league. All the things Peter doesn’t excel in.

“My point proven,” Ned says quietly. Peter begs anything that may be listening that you didn’t hear Ned.

Before Peter can form a rebuttal the bell rings. He sighs still embarrassed trying to look anywhere but your face.

“Okay come on you five year olds, let's stop arguing about credible sources, and whose brother said what.” You put your hands on both Peter and Ned's backs, pushing them to their first period. The second your hand meets the fabric of Peter sweatshirt his whole body stiffens. Peter tries to ignore the fact that you’re touching him, and focus on walking.

——

“You would- do that for me?” Peter's heart is pounding, he can’t believe this is happening. There is no way that you are asking him if you can be his girlfriend.

When the words fall from his mouth he really wants you to reply with something romantic like “I’d do anything for you,” and then kiss him till he feels dizzy, but he knows his wishful thinking is only that, a wish.

“Well, I mean, sure. And anyways, you’d keep the creepy guys away from me.” His eyes grow impossibly wider.

What is happening? Did he do something? Are you messing with him? Why in the world would you, Y/n Stark, be asking little nobody Peter Parker to be your boyfriend?

Peter’s mouth is agape and he's trying to figure out how to speak. He can’t form a sentence with everything running through his head.

“God, Peter stop being an idiot for once and say something to her! She's waiting.”

“I- I-“

“Just spit it out, Peter.”

“I would love- to be your boyfriend Y/n.” Peter sees your shoulders untense and drop before a smile is plastered on your face.

“Really?” You ask him and he nods so fast it gives him whiplash. Of course he wants to, how could he not. He wants to pour his heart and soul out to you right now, for fucks sake.

“Yeah.” He replies with such a big smile it hurts his face.

“I can’t believe you said yes,” You blurt out. Peter hesitates before asking, not wanting this beautiful moment to so quickly fade.

“Why would I say no?”

“Well- umm- i don’t know.” You shrug awkwardly. Peter blinks waiting for an answer.

“I donno, I thought maybe you would think it would ruin our friendship.” Peter nods in understanding.

“But- but I want you to know that this is strictly pretend. And for the benefit of both of us.” You comment quickly, trying to explain the rules of the agreement.

Peter's heart is hit with a pang of sadness. He wishes it was real with all of his heart. But for now, he has to be happy at the opportunity to even pretend to date you. After all, you asked him. Not Ned, not some random guy, him. And god, did that make his heart swell.

“Yeah, of course.” He says, nodding quickly.

“Okay good.” You say, “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Peter only nods with a smile. His face may be calm and collected but his heart is doing flips.

“When- when will this,” he pauses, not sure if he can use the word he wants to use. “Relationship being? Or sorry- when will we- you know, start?” Peter asks in a jumble of words.

Your brows furrow. You didn’t get that far, unfortunately. You tap your chin in thought.

“Umm…not sure. Tomorrow maybe?” You say, still thinking.

“Tomorrow!?”

Peter thinks as panic, excitement and horror sets in. He’s happy but nervous, everything is happening so fast.

“Yeah um-“ his voice cracks and he curses the puberty gods for being so cruel.

“Sounds good.” He says more calmly this time.

You outstretch your hand to shake his, he does the same.

“Okay. Tomorrow it is.” You say with a smile. “But before that, I think we need to clear a few more things up. Just to make it convincing.”

Peter nods in agreement, trying to look as smart and put together as you are right now. But in reality he’s just happy you haven’t stopped shaking his hand.

——

Peter's day has been crazy. When he woke up this morning he hadn’t and couldn’t have thought or dreamed up anything that’s happened.

First, almost missing the train, second getting humiliated in front of the whole class, he could’ve thought that up, but, you being there to hear it and then standing up for him? He couldn’t believe it. And second, which happened to be more unbelievable, you asked him the question he’s been trying to find the courage to ask you. But even better, you skipped right to boyfriend and Girlfriend. You skipped the awkward dating and testing the water straight to holding hands and cuddling.

Obviously he didn’t mean that that’s what was going to happen, but one could only hope. And even if the hand holding wouldn’t happen at least he could call himself your boyfriend.

He always tries to stay level headed whenever Flash is like that. He doesn’t want it to get to his head, that could affect his productivity and performance in both school and as Spiderman. It also helped to know that Flash looked up to Spiderman and thought he was cool, that made the tension in his fist easy up whenever Flash said something dickish.

Overall, Peter has had a great day. Now he is laying in bed after patrol, his mind is racing with a million thoughts a second. He still needed to process everything that happened that day.

You and Peter had discussed and decided to keep the bid up around Ned and MJ. You both concluded it would be more convenient and convincing if they believed it too.

You also talked about the backstory. You would go to school and pretend like you were both coming clean about your hidden ‘relationship’ after a couple months of not telling them. You’d confessed to ‘falling in love’ with each other over Summer break. And after a while decided to ‘try it out’. And here you were.

It was a perfect plan. You and Peter had in fact spent a portion on summer break together at your Dads beach house. Ned couldn’t go and a family emergency kept MJ from coming. So you and Peter were alone. It’s the perfect setting for a fake love story.

Peter knew that Ned would be so mad that he wasn’t in on the secret relationship. He needed a good cover for that. After all, Peter told Ned he was Spiderman, and you still don’t know. Hopefully he could also make sure Ned didn’t tell you any secrets that didn’t need to be shared. Like the fact that Peter has a big fat crush on you. And has been crushing for quite some time now.

If Ned slips that piece of information to you, you’ll know he actually likes you. It would be awkward. And obviously Ned will think you guys or together so it doesn't matter, because you both like each other. While, in fact you are only doing this for the mutual benefit of the both of you, not because you like him like that.

God. He had so much to prepare for. And you stayed late, making his patrol rounds run later. He's exhausted, but he can’t sleep until he comes up with a way to protect his fragile ego.

You on the other hand aren’t as anxious, you have a plan. Kind of, it's more like a detailed outline with missing chunks. But a plan nonetheless. You know what you’ll say to MJ when she gets pissed at you for not telling her. And you know what you’ll say when she eventually forgives you for not telling her and then asks about all the details of your relationship.

You know what you’ll say, and you are prepared. You just hope it won’t come to her asking if you two have gone farther than a kiss.

——

“We got this.” Peter whispers to himself as he waits for you at the school’s entrance. His head is down in thought. Mind and body both anxious.

“Definitely got this.” Peter jumps at the sound of your voice. He didn’t sense you at all. Not that it would trigger his Peter tingle, like aunt May liked to call it, because you weren’t dangerous.

“Sorry,” you apologize “didn't mean to spook you. But we do got this. We’ll be fine.” You say reaching up to rub his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

Peter's body stiffens and you pull away, not trying to make him more uncomfortable. But in reality he was just nervous around you.

You pause, a little worried about him.

“You know we don’t have to do this Pete.” You smile softly.

“No, no, no, no, no.” He rambles out quickly, “We do- I mean we should.” He stumbles over his words.

“I'm good.” confirms, and he takes a quick breath and nods to you. You nod back smiling at him.

“Okay then,” You say, sheepishly offering your hand to him. “Let's do this.”

Peter’s hand slips into yours and his heart beats so loud he can hear it. From the looks of it, you aren’t as in awe as he is with the two of you holding hands. But why would you? You’re not really together or anything.

You and Peter walk down the hall in silence, both anxious of the awkward conversation that's going to take place. Peter's head spins and he keeps his eyes down avoiding any human interactions, trying to think. He thought about this all last night, sure, but one night to think about something this big isn’t a lot of time. You probably just want the help you need as soon as possible.

“Wait,” the thoughts in his head stop for a second as something dawns on him. “What is Y/n getting out of this fake relationship?”

He felt so stupid for not thinking about it before now, and he felt like an asshole even more for not asking you. What was going on in your life, that you needed a boyfriend to fix? Were you getting made fun of too? Or was it worse than that?

He tries to think back to last night, when you asked him to be your fake boyfriend. What had you said? His mind is scavenging through everything from last night.

“Okay, calm down Peter. Just think. What did she say? How did the conversation start? She had to have said the reason at some point.

She said:

‘I could pretend to be your girlfriend at school and stuff. Then no one would ever give you a hard time,’

Then I said:

‘You would do that for me?’

Then she said:

…

What did she say after that? Oh god, what did she say?”

Peter panics. He has been so wrapped up in his own gain, that he forgot he was supposed to be helping you too. There was something you needed him for. But he couldn’t remember.

Peter opened his mouth to ask you, worry and guilt, replacing the previous anxiety. There was a pit so deep in his stomach he swore he could throw a rock in and it would take an hour for it to hit the bottom.

He lips part ready to ask, but he doesn’t get to, because his eyes catch sight of MJs worn down Converse All-stars. He lifts his gaze to meet MJs. He can’t bring it up right now.

“Peter?” She asks, “You good? You look like you did when you first found out Y/n doesn’t like Star Wars.” MJ informs.

You laugh at MJs comment and it makes him turn to look at you. He’ll have to ask you about it later. Right now you both have to “come clean” to your two best friends.

“Yeah, umm” He clears his throat, “I'm good, sorry, just thinking.” MJ keeps her eyebrow raised as Ned walks over butting into the conversation.

“Also, why are you and Y/n holding hands like you're on a date?” You again laugh, but this time awkwardly.

“Well,” You smile shyly, Peter squeezes your hand lightly, letting you know he's here for you. You give him a soft smile and a nod of appreciation. “We have something to tell you guys.”

“Yeah,” Peter adds on with a smile. Ned and MJ give each other looks before turning their focus on your and Peters intertwined hands. MJ squints, deep in thought, and Ned looks between the two of you quickly.

“Don’t tell me,” MJ eventually sighs, she's come to the conclusion after “close” inspection.

“We’re dating.” Peter confirms, anxiously looking at his two friends and then to you.

“We have been for a couple months now,” You add, “We’ve just been waiting for the right time to tell you.” You say stepping closer to Peter.

“WHAT?!?!” Ned screams. You flinch slightly, as does MJ and Peter. “And you didn’t think to tell your bestfriend?!” Ned lowers his voice when he notices all the eyes on him from people in the hallway. But the anger in his voice doesn’t waver.

“I-“ Petter stutters, not knowing what to say.

“How did it happen?” MJ asks, tapping her foot. She looks a little annoyed. Peter guesses, it's because Y/n hadn’t told her about their secret relationship. “Or what happened?”

“To sum it up real fast for everyone,” Y/n started, “And I can explain it better later, we started dating over summer break when we were at my dads beach house.” Ned and MJ look at you waiting for you to continue.

“We were alone, and I guess it provoked our confessions and, well here we are.” You say blankly, hoping for a good reaction.

“Why didn’t you tell me Peter? I'm your best friend.” Ned asks sadly.

“We just didn’t want to say anything because we were testing it out, in case it didn’t work, we didn’t want to break up the friend group. We wanted to be sure we were serious.” Peter quickly adds on quickly to try to explain the situation. Ned nods, understanding a bit more now.

“So, you too are serious?” MJ asks. You just shrug with a smile, and a smirk grows on her lips “I knew it. I knew something was going on-”

“What are you talking about?” You cut her off, your eyes wide and voice anxious. Peter notices for a second before Ned speaks up.

“Ohh,” Ned says in realization, “So, this is why you-“ Peter rips his hand from yours to cover Ned's mouth, not wanting him to say something embarrassing. Peter's eyes get big and he slowly shakes his head.

“I- Can we talk about this at our lockers please?” Peter asks nervously. Peter quickly nods to you and MJ before walking off.

You are too focused on MJ to see him walk off, but he does see your flustered face. He's too preoccupied to dwell on that right now.

“Oh my god, Ned no.” Peter scolds as they get to their lockers.

“What?” Ned asks, confused. “It's not like it's a secret now, you like her and she likes you.”

“Yeah but,” He pauses and sighs, twisting the lock on his locker. “You can’t tell her anything I’ve told you.”

“Why not? You're together now, what does it matter?” Peter's face flushes, “Ohh, you haven’t told her everything, have you?” Ned realizes.

Peter shakes his head confirming Ned's words.

“And I don’t need her to find them out. So please for my dignity and sanity don’t.” Peter pleads, finishing moving his books from his locker to his bag and vice-versa.

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” Ned nods, reluctantly understanding. Ned pauses, as Peter shuts his locker and turns to him.

“What?” Peter wonders aloud his eyebrows scrunched.

“I can’t even tell her how long you’ve been crushing? It's not like it matters or anything.” Ned begs with a whine, he wants to tell you so bad, it's so funny, and it was cute to see him so fond of you.

“No Ned, no.” Peter says seriously. Ned grumbles angrily, but eventually nods in agreement.

“Listen, she doesn’t even know about-“ Peter starts before leaning in to whisper to Ned, “Spiderman.” He leans back and continues to talk normally.

“So you can’t tell her anything. At all. I don’t need her freaking out.” Peter sighs, rubbing his temples. Ned nods again.

“Okay. I promise I won’t say anything.” Ned says a little disappointed.

“I'm being serious, Ned. You can’t say anything. Not about him, or about my-“ Peter pauses to blush.

“My crush,” utters quietly. “Nothing at all. I mean it.” Peter continues.

“I know.” Ned rolls his eyes, “My mouth is shut.” Peter nods thanking him. And they both just stand there for a second. After a minute Ned speaks up.

“I can still talk to her though, right?”

“What?” Peter asks, confused at the question.

“Like, Y/n, I mean. You and I are friends and I don’t want to cross any lines or anything.” Ned responds sheepishly.

“Oh my god,” Peter laughs, less anxious now, “Yeah, goodness. I'm not going to make you stop talking to her.”

“You guys are friends, and I'm not a crazy boyfriend.” Peter comments laughing again. Ned starts laughing with him. Peter smiles softly thinking about how much he liked to word boyfriend coming out of his mouth, it rolled off his tongue perfectly, he was a boyfriend. Not just that, he was your boyfriend.

“Right, just making sure.” Ned chuckles, pulling Peter from his thoughts, now feeling less stressed about the whole situation. “You never know.” Ned adds with a smile..

“I'm also sorry for not telling you sooner, Ned.” Peter quickly apologizes. “You are my best friend, so you should have known sooner, I just-“

“It's alright Peter. I get it. It's hard, at least I know now.” Ned responds.

“Plus, now you can tell me about all the stuff you two have been up to.” Ned smirks at Peter who is blushing profusely.

“Ned- we didn’t- I mean haven’t-“ Ned rolls his eyes with a smile.

“Sure you haven’t,” Ned chuckles, “I understand if you don’t feel uncomfortable with-“

“Ned! Oh my god, stop!” Peter stuffs his hands into his face embarrassed. And Ned just laughs as he drags Peter to their first period.

Peter wants to be present and happy with Ned, but he can’t get his mind off of you, and what you said. Or, what you said that he can’t remember. Why did you need to fake a relationship? What did he need to protect you from?

Tag List:

@riordanness

@princess-ofthe-pages

@sunnyx07

@hollandweather

#peter parker #x reader #peter parker x reader #mcu peter parker #mcu peter x reader #Spiderman #peter parker x you

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wistfulrat · 7 months

Text

・❥・lesbian wangxian reccs ・❥・

ao3topships poll gate made me realize there are hundreds nay thousands of u who dont know abt lesbian wangxian ?? that’s so sad can i proselytize u real quick

mimilamp cinematic universe (the ppl’s mcu) sorry for starting this list with a whole author catalog. as if it's my fault!! these gave me covid. no listen mimilamp fics have feverish lesbian angst levels of hot horny despair that could paralyze a large forest animal. and on a sentence level it's just stunning. messy dykes fumbling toward love confessions while making emotionally insane choices and the sex scenes fuckn bang ??? god is real

good, good - 13.5k E Wei Ying has two broken wrists and now she needs Lan Zhan to help her do stuff (jerk off)

here’s a story - 46k E Wei Ying reluctantly joins her recently-dumped best friend, Lan Zhan, on a couples' holiday retreat. Snow! Drinks! Truth or dare! There's a s-s-s-single bed! You'll never guess what happens next.

out of your system - 20k E “Maybe you should get me out of your system,” Wei Ying blurts. “Maybe that’ll help.” // Wei Ying finds out her best friend Lan Zhan is in love with her and offers a really super solution.

exposure therapy - 14k E Wei Ying clambered up from the floor, put the joint on the corner of the night stand, announced, “Exposure therapy,” and got into Lan Zhan’s bed. // Lan Zhan doesn't like to be touched, Wei Ying likes to touch.

know no one else - 20k E Lan Zhan moves out, Wei Ying's boyfriend moves in. Six months later, Lan Zhan visits, they go to a party, and Wei Ying has something to tell her.

74243 this author should be studied in a lab bc these 2 fics ruined my life. a pulitzer prize short fic with immaculate tone followed by the fuck nastiest shit you will ever read. "wei ying swipes right" still a top 3 bar of all time re: fic summaries. like people died.

chef’s kiss - 6.5k E Wei Ying said, “You know, in some ways I’m kind of depressed. I took your biggest dick on my first try. Now I don’t have anything to build up to.” “There are bigger ones available,” Lan Zhan said lazily. “I can pay for express shipping.” // (Lan Zhan works the late shift.)

pull out game weak - 22.7k E Wei Ying swipes right.

plonk this is the only fic in many ways. dyke nmj's mustache academy award winning breakout role. possessive hot dyke lwj. the sentence "don't knot her you freak." have u ever seen a group chat get rabies in real time. the slut rot breached containment. it was a public health crisis. it brought back horny cinema. cultural reset.

good friends - 11.5k E “I could invite her over for when the game’s done,” Nie Mingjue offers. Lan Zhan hums, considering it. They do that sometimes. Take omegas down together.

occultings will i ever get tired of -wwx thinks she's straight and wants to practice being gay with sadsack lwj who is like sure im in love with u and this will cause me psychic damage but mayhaps that's the cost of being homiesexual--? no i dont get tired of the classics it's called taste

give me one good honest kiss - 25k E The text keeps flashing over and over in Lan Zhan's head like the bulb lights on a marquee. They’d been talking about homework directly before that, swapping notes on music theory in the baroque period. Then, like a fork of lightning out of a clear blue sky: wanna practice kissing? 😚 // Wei Ying suggests an arrangement. Lan Zhan, in love, deals.

saltyfeathers ok so like sure it's ill advised to get your cartilage pierced at claire's but if you wanted the experience of participating in deranged hysteric behavior that kinda bangs in a badgood way? well then.

the mall that has it all - 8k E She introduced herself in the food court, breathless after sprinting across it in Lan Zhan’s direction and vaulting over a table only to crash into the seat across from her, ask, “Can I have a sip?”, spring forward with both elbows on the table to wrap her burgundy lips around Lan Zhan’s smoothie straw, wrinkle her nose, and say, “What is that, kale? Not really my thing, as like, a mall goth. Oh!” A pleased, chaotic exhale. “My name’s Wei Ying.” Lan Zhan said, after taking a moment to fully process the last forty-five seconds, “What?” or; mall goth au

#just thought abt mimilamp “baby are you happy” and almost walked into traffic #wangxian fic rec #lesbian wangxian #mdzs #the untamed #cql #femslash #wlw wangxian #mimilamp #74243 #plonk #occultings #saltyfeathers

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charcubed · 10 months

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Disneyland's Rogers: The Musical, propaganda that turns Steve Rogers into more myth than man, and revisionist history (possibly) to a purpose

Any of my thoughts in this post could just be me reading too far into things. I'm very aware of that, and please know that this post exists just because this sort of thing is fun for me! This is a thought exercise where we propose "What if we live in a world where the MCU is actually doing a cool and interesting thing as a longcon?" If you have anger at Marvel, that's valid and relatable, but please don't get angry at me or imply I'm an MCU stan who doesn't think critically about the mouse. Thanks!

Breaking news: I'm back on my bullshit!

A quick personal recap: I infamously hated Avengers: Endgame for a long list of reasons (and I even rewrote the movie). One of those reasons is that I've always taken issue with Steve's ending. But in the years since then, and as the MCU's phase 4 has evolved, my frustration at Steve's "ending" has turned into an ongoing and legitimate theory that the MCU could be slowly leading into a loosely adapted Secret Empire plot line. I know we've all been joking about Steve being trapped or about an imposter Steve since 2019, but uhhh, it's kind of not a joke to me anymore? It feels weirdly plausible at this point and so I enjoy discussing the potential.

You can find a full elaboration on that here, where I wrote out my "Steve was snatched by HYDRA" theory in 2021.

In that post, one of the things I mentioned at the time was Rogers: The Musical being in the Hawkeye trailer.

[The musical's] very existence is an example of how in-universe the stories of the lives of the heroes are being commodified, especially (in terms of how they’re framing it) for Steve’s. The heroes are no longer seen as people, if they ever were. They are, as Kate Bishop says to Clint in a recently released clip, more about “branding.” Sam Wilson will be redefining the shield moving forward in a Cap context, but simultaneously, the world is still enamored by Steve Rogers as a symbol in his own right. And that is ripe for manipulation as a Trojan horse to control public opinion… whether in the context of things like this by themselves (is the musical portraying Steve accurately, or is it painting an inaccurate picture of him the world accepts as fact?) or in future (is this propaganda that makes the public see Steve a certain way and continue to love him, to set up a fake or brainwashed Steve coming on the scene later?).

Now a form of the musical exists in full, at Disneyland and all over Youtube. Considering some of its baffling content – which I will break down below – this perspective seems even more strongly worth considering.

I have two main reasons for why I'm defending examining this musical so closely:

1. It is (arguably) an in-universe piece of media that has bearing on the MCU canon. It isn't like any other typical Disneyland attraction; its very existence is meta and it was in canon first. Obviously it's seen in Hawkeye, but there are also posters for it in several different phase 4 properties. It's lurking in the background indefinitely. So what can this musical tell us about what the wider public within the MCU is being told about the life story of Steve Rogers?

2. This Secret Empire graphic – which is animated in the center of the stage of a prolonged period of time – feels like a literal sign to pay attention.

Granted, this is obviously still ancillary material. 99% of the MCU audience will never see this musical, whether in person or on YouTube. But just because it isn't a vital piece doesn't mean it's automatically an entirely irrelevant piece.

They've given me an inch with that sign and I'm taking a mile.

So if you're interested, please join me on this journey :)

For the record, let me just say that I salute the creative team behind this show. It's pretty fun and the songs are catchy, the sets and costuming are cool, and the cast is overall very talented.

It's also fucking maddening. LMAO.

Why? Firstly, because of the seemingly deliberate ahistorical inaccuracies. We all know Ant-Man is wrongly shown in the Battle of New York, which originally "came from [the Hawkeye showrunner] and Marvel, as something to further aggravate Hawkeye as he watched the show, and also as a comment on how movies and articles and people always get something wrong." It seems like they expanded those meta nods, but most inaccuracies are now in service of glorifying Steve and Peggy's "love story." Yes, romance objectively makes for good theater; but again, I feel that this is worth examining considering the full context.

And secondly, Steve's ending is framed as an offer presented to him, convincing him it's the happy ending he deserves because he's tired. In my mind, these two big elements go together, and I'll walk you through the details of what happens in the musical before I tie the thought threads back around into some theorizing.

For your reference, here's a list of the main songs and story beats:

• "U-S-Opening Night" - the Starkettes (who are basically a Greek chorus) frame the show's story, and then it turns into an ensemble that loosely takes place at the Stark Expo. • "I Want You" – Steve's "I want" song about trying to enlist in the army. • "Star-Spangled Man With A Plan" – Steve performing on the USO tour obviously, and then there's a reprise with an added voiceover that (very briefly) covers the Howling Commandos' rescue + the war via comic book imagery. • "What You Missed" – Fury and the Starkettes tell Steve some pop culture things he missed while he was frozen, + they tell him about the Avengers. Then Fury goes down a list of other hero characters, including the Guardians? Doctor Strange? Wanda?? It plays loose and fast with time, because many non-2012 characters are bafflingly mentioned in this nonlinear Avengers list – including the Winter Soldier (???). • "Save the City" – this is the song seen in Hawkeye, with the civilians + the Avengers all involved, but it's slightly different here and expanded to also reference other battles. • "End of the Line" – Old Steve presents main Steve with the time stone as an opportunity for his happy ending, and they reflect on things together. (Yes, this is insane.) • "Just One Dance" – Steve and Peggy reunite and sing about their love. • And then there's basically a reprise of "Save the City," with the Starkettes and the whole cast closing the finale out.

Right out of the gate, let's address this: the main reason you're going to see some fans pissed about this musical is not only that Steve and Peggy's ~epic romance~ is made a pillar of the story... but also that Bucky's importance/involvement in Steve's life is minimized as much as possible.

And they took Bucky-related elements from canon and made them center more around Peggy instead.

• For some weird reason, Peggy is in the Stark Expo scene. When a soldier is hitting on the Starkettes ("hey sweetheart, I wanna dance!"), Steve tells the soldier to show the ladies some respect. The soldier grabs Steve and throws him down, and then Peggy swoops in to yell "Pick on someone your own size!" and punches the guy before walking away. So she's given Bucky's TFA line verbatim, and she is given the role he had of saving Steve from bullies. There is blatantly no reason they couldn't have had Bucky still serve that function and be truer to "history," because he briefly enters this scene in uniform less than a minute later to announce he's shipping out to the 107th – and then he spins off with a date on his arm. (We don't see Bucky on stage again until the full cast comes out for the finale!)

• After the Star-Spangled Man show, Peggy rushes in to talk to Steve. Steve is excited about his USO performance (???) but she urgently tells him to listen as she says that the 107th has been captured. Peggy apparently knows it's Bucky's division, and she knows Steve is going to go, so she tells him that she's already arranged transport for him. This is a subtle twist from the truth of how it went down in TFA, in which Steve recognized 107 as the number of Bucky's division, and his dogged determination inspired Peggy to relent and help his rescue mission. Here, Peggy is given a stronger role in the Cap origin story. And before Steve rushes off, Peggy sings a short untitled ballad hoping for their dance, so Steve pauses before he leaves to ask her to go on a date with her when he returns. • The most egregious Bucky-to-Peggy change of all is the song "End of the Line," in which the infamous Steve and Bucky line/promise (that broke Bucky's brainwashing...) is re-contextualized to be about ???? Peggy waiting for Steve in the past??? Old Man Steve and regular Steve sing it together. But we'll go back to that in a minute.

Again, I get it, yeah? It's for theater. Whatever. But in reality, the obvious logical truth is that Peggy is centered (to the point of taking elements from Bucky's story, and in turn Bucky is downplayed) because they needed to convince the audience that Steve going back in time to be with her makes sense. Steve's time travel ending had to be justified, so the Peggy and Steve "love story" had to be a pillar in this with everything else being given lesser weight.

And the inherent selfishness of him doing something as big as going back in time also had to be justified... which is why they do their best to convince you Steve fought so much he deserved it.

Let me elaborate on that by describing the lead-up to the "End of the Line" song.

So, right before "End of the Line" is "Save the City" – which includes Steve belting "I can do this all day!" repeatedly, of course. It's the 2012 Battle of New York as the Avengers come together to win.

As they begin to disperse, the song then transitions to a voiceover alert mentioning Sokovia being under attack by artificial intelligence (a.k.a. Age of Ultron). The Avengers group rushes back to center stage to say "Save the city! Help us win!" together for battle again.

And then things get fucking weird.

Because the next voiceover threat is "Washington DC. Attack: the Winter Soldier." This is not accurate to the order of events! The Winter Soldier events were before Age of Ultron; the public of the MCU would also know this.

And suddenly on stage Steve is now in the center while everyone else gestures to him. Instead of singing with him, they're telling him "Save the city! Help us win!"

Then, another voiceover: "Wakanda, under attack" (Infinity War) and again, Steve is centered while everyone else points to him. The ensemble says, "Save the city, help us win! Save us all from the state we're in! Got to hear you, got to hear you, got to hear you say..." as Steve is buckling to his knees under their pointing. And as the lights go down to one spotlight on him and everyone else leaves, he says "I can do this all day" one last time, but now it's subdued.

The implication is that Steve has been fighting and fighting, people leave him or he loses them, and he's tired.

And then fucking Old Man Steve arrives.

He says "On your left," because yes, they gave him Sam Wilson's line. BATSHIT.

So now there's two Steves on stage! There has been no mention of Thanos or infinity stones or anything up to this point! (I can only assume that's because in the MCU universe no one would want to be reminded of the trauma of "the Blip" – though it's pretty wild that they're allowed to know about magical time travel?)

Steve is baffled by Old Man Steve's arrival. I, too, was baffled by Old Man Steve's arrival.

As Steve questions how this is possible, Old Man Steve shows him the time stone from his pocket – and only the time stone – which Steve recognizes.

OLD MAN: "You've got to remember where you've been to know where you're going." STEVE: "Where am I going?" OLD MAN: "A date with destiny." STEVE: “Destiny. So we’re the hero till the end?” OLD MAN: “That’s the thing about endings, Steven. They can be rewritten.”

Lmao???????

Steve starts singing about how he hopes this means they "win" and calls himself a "tired hero."

STEVE: "But sometimes I wonder, who will save the savior? Can we really do this all day? So here I am, now and also then. Just a man, looking back at where he's been." OLD MAN: "The road is rough but wounds are healed by a thing called time. You can't forget what's waiting at the end of the line."

Me, watching this: the fact that he says this out of the blue makes absolutely no sense.

There's a bit more singing, including "end of the line" repetition, and then Old Man Steve pulls out the time stone to essentially show visions of... I don't fucking know. Past, present, and future?

That's pre-serum Steve, Steve with Mjolnir, and Sam Wilson as the new Cap. This is the only reference to Sam in the whole thing.

More singing, and then: Peggy's silhouette.

OLD MAN: "Can't forget who's waiting..." STEVE: "I can't forget who's waiting..." BOTH: "Don't forget who's waiting..." STEVE: "At the end of the line."

At this point I'm like, what in the hell?

Did Old Man Steve just brainwash normal Steve into thinking "end of the line" is now about Peggy? Because uhhhh, sorry, that's what it feels like!

Then Steve uses the stone to go back in time, reunites with Peggy, etc. etc. finale.

It's truly some crazy shit.

[drags hands down face]

Look... there's a lot to unpack here, and there's a lot that gets me about it. I know this is dramatized for the stage! I KNOW! But the fact that Old Man Steve shows up to convince Steve he should go back in time makes me want to gnaw on furniture.

Another person essentially uses the lure of a life with Peggy to tempt Steve into doing this, dramatized or not. That is how it's framed.

It's a hell of a way to frame it, and it makes Steve's ending stand in even starker contrast to so many other things in phase 4. Desperately trying to go backwards when you shouldn't or to bring back a lost lover is an evil temptation, and it results in a trap or negative cosmic consequences for basically all of the other characters in the MCU.

• In Shang-Chi, Wenwu is tempted by the Soul Eaters beyond the Dark Gate. They use the voice of his deceased wife to convince him to set them free. • In "What If" episode 4, Doctor Strange becomes evil in a desperate bid to save Christine and he destroys his universe. Along the way, he tries to tempt/trap the good Strange who's fighting him by using visions of Christine, but good Strange knows she isn't real. • Wanda's grief and desire to bring back Vision leads to – well, you know. • In No Way Home, Peter trying to undo things is what causes the multiverse problems.

And the fact that they frame it as Steve being tired, so basically the argument is he deserves that time travel ending (just like MCU fans who defend Endgame say in real life)... Well.

There's no way to make it hold up, especially because in "What If" they explicitly subverted that and had Captain Carter not go back in time despite how she felt she'd "earned" it.

Lastly, in this musical as Steve decides to pursue time travel as his course of action, he basically has the meaning or memory of "end of the line" rewritten for him. I refuse to not think that is some nefarious shit. Yes, it's not out of the realm of possibility that it's just some general Disney erasing Steve and Bucky nonsense.

But... this is on another level to me. I do think that it's a blatant choice that they had to be aware even general MCU fans would call bullshit on. Everyone knows it's inaccurate. "End of the line" is embedded in pop culture consciousness as being connected to Bucky. It just is! Surely that means it's not a stretch to theorize it could be deliberate meta commentary.

How, in the MCU world, would the in-universe playwrights even know the phrase "end of the line"? How the fuck would it be accidentally applied to Steve and Peggy? Not to sound like a crazy person, but who the fuck was rooting around in Steve and/or Bucky's personal business or their brains in order to obtain that knowledge and then remix it, and why? Neither of them would flippantly mention it in the public eye or interviews ever. So where did its inclusion come from?

And in the finale ensemble, this is Bucky's line when he comes out on stage and salutes + points to Steve: "Don't forget who's waiting..." And Old Man Steve completes it with "...at the end of the line."

What on God's green earth am I meant to do with THAT?

Smh.

The vibes are fucked, folks.

The MCU public wouldn't know enough to say the vibes are fucked. The MCU public wouldn't know the origin of "end of the line" as a phrase. But us? The ones who know the "true story" via the movies? We can call bullshit.

Whether the creative team behind this musical did every aspect of this consciously or not, in my opinion the fact that they had to tweak canon "history" to A) make Peggy's involvement in Steve's life more central and B) emphasize Steve as a tired hero all works as commentary on and almost a condemnation of Endgame's frustrating ending. In a way, it's also what Endgame did with the compass and 1973 moment with Peggy as well.

Steve's ending had to be convincing.

It's theater.

And so, maybe the same is true for the in-narrative perspective of this musical in the context of the MCU world. What purpose would it serve to tell the MCU public a feel-good narrative about how all Steve Rogers wanted was to no longer be a tragic man out of time and get to make a life with his best girl? To frame it as being about how he fought so hard for years and so he earned a happy ending? To minimize and nearly erase Bucky's importance in his life?

Who would want to do that sort of propaganda, and why?

The MCU civilians are given this happy explanation and maybe don't widely question it. Who cares about the details or logistics if it makes a good story, I guess. It's a stretch, but maybe they mostly applaud it. Maybe they're happy for "America's favorite son" (not unlike people who uncritically liked Endgame). In a way, it's even a rehabilitation of his image (after the Accords) like putting the shield on the Statue of Liberty. And maybe they'd even be ready and waiting to applaud if Steve ever made a dramatically selfless and de-aged return to the spotlight or a position of authority.

But mostly, the public is being conditioned to not know or to forget that anyone else like Bucky Barnes or Sam Wilson would possibly know Steve Rogers the person well enough in the modern day to call bullshit on any of this – or on his hypothetical miraculous future return.

So. Sure, it's probably nothing.

But what if it's not?

-------

UPDATE: @faeriecap added to this post with some incredible information and further behind-the-scenes context about the MCU/Marvel stuff at Disney parks! Check it out here :)

#rogers the musical #rogers: the musical #steve rogers #captain america #captain america meta #marvel meta #imposter steve #anti-endgame #peggy carter #stevebucky #mcu #marvel #stucky #anti-endgame steve #char writes things #me: is anyone else going to write about this being propaganda? no? fine I'll do it myself #I should not be posting it after midnight but I don't want to be tempted to fucking look at it again tomorrow. be gone you monster

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jackgoodfellow · 7 months

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"Grace" here is being used not in the Christian sense, but rather to broadly refer to the incredible power of human kindness, patience, and love. ❤

High-res closeups:

high-res full image (Google Drive link)

Flower language (or at least the flower language I am using):

Forget-me-nots: these little blue flowers are symbols of memory and remembrance, as well as true love, devotion, and, occasionally, senility

Baby's breath: these tiny white flowers symbolize new beginnings, everlasting love, freedom from corruption, happiness, and thankfulness

Dandelions: A cursory google search says these flowers represent "hope, healing, and resilience," which is apt. But I've included them here as a reference to their symbolism in Fionna & Cake. In this illustration, the field of dandelion puffs that Simon wakes up in at the end of the show has become a field of yellow dandelion flowers.

More analysis, if you're into that kind of thing:

1. I'm never going to get over the fact that Simon saved Marceline for no other reason than to save a child who needed his help, and in doing so - in showing up for his adopted daughter not just once but constantly and for YEARS - he basically saved the world. I think it was a brilliant move to use the narrative to further validate his actions in "The Star" episode of Fionna & Cake.

Marceline is the narrative opposite of Dean and Sam Supernatural.

2. Kindness has a way of spreading and coming back to us in ways we could never predict, which is one reason why I'm ALSO never going to get over how Simon saving Marceline eventually led to Marceline convincing Finn and Jake (and BMO and even Bubblegum) to be more empathetic to the Ice King, who becomes way safer and happier once he is not isolated in his madness.

Finn's kindness towards Simon, both before and after being cured, is a huge deal to me. It's a vital part of his character growth, and I like that Fionna had a parallel moment of growth with the Candy Queen.

Like, yes, it is big and important that Betty saved Simon. But what she couldn't do is love him in his madness. She was unable to love him if it didn't also cure him, and this destroyed her.

And so it is beautiful to me that because of Marcy and her friends, Simon was not left to suffer alone in the darkest depths of his senility. And I really love all the ways the show demonstrates how this deeply affected him even if it didn't make him remember who he was.

I believe this kindness shown to Ice King led to him having the confidence to stand up for himself and accidentally save the world AGAIN when Betty tries to kill everyone to "save" Simon in the Elementals finale because GOD FORBID WOMEN DO ANYTHING.

(Betty is our problematic Queen, and I absolutely love how she's written. The CW could NEVER. The MCU would sooner DIE. 90% of all prestige dramas can only DREAM of having such a complex and dynamic female character.)

3. And finally, there is that most recent and possibly most vital instance of grace of all in Simon's story: the kindness, patience, and forgiveness that he finally learns to start showing to himself.

Simon's is a tale of people being kinder than they have to be and the way that changes everything. I am extremely grateful that his story culminates in him learning that kindness and self-sacrifice are NOT the same thing, and that he deserves his own kindness as much as if not more than everyone else.

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buckets-and-trees · 2 years

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Into Cursed Pixie Dust

Fandom: MCU

Characters/Pairings: Winter Soldier x female!Reader

Word Count: 8.9K

Summary: “He's credited over two dozen assassinations in the last fifty years…” but you don’t know that. You run into him once, then again, again, again. Destiny draws you together, and neither of you can deny the pull. And yet though he never ages, you do.

Warnings: SMUT, morally grey Winter Soldier, cheating (don’t read/complain if you don’t want it), penetrative sex, sex while pregnant, fingering, WS doesn’t stalk reader but territorially has his eyes on her/is aware of her when she’s in his orbit? Minors do not interact.

Additional Notes: First LENGTHY fic here. This idea crept up on me somewhat inspired by the feeling and some of the lyrics of Mazzy Star’s Into Dust, elements of Peter Pan folklore as he never ages and Winter Soldier also has that unconventional relationship with time, and the concept that he could keep encountering the same person – not every time he’s sent on a mission, but a few times, enough for it to be significant. Part of me also liked the challenge of trying to tie him to nefarious deeds/political intrigue/etc and going down some Google and Wikipedia rabbit holes to spin the timeline of encounters together (you can see the notes/significance/context for each date at the end of the fic).

July 1961 – St. Tropez, France

You are rushing as fast as your short heels would allow down to the docks. Your parents had left the house late for their weekend away to Cannes, which meant you were late sneaking out to Hank’s boat party, but you knew you could still make it if you kept a quick enough pace. You couldn’t run and show up in a huff of sweat and disheveled hair, but swift strides should still serve to get you there before Hank gave word to pull away from shore. Hank usually ran a little late himself, but you still needed to make good time.

Hank was the oldest of the Stanton siblings, and it was his youngest sister and your best friend Helen who was your connection to this social circle. It wasn’t going to be an excessively large party, but Hank hadn’t put a stop to any of the rumors of the various summer St. Tropez social elites that could be confirmed on his guest list. Brigette Bardot was among those names, but you were angling to catch Hudson Stanton’s eye – middle son of the Stantons and recently unattached and thus newly eligible bachelor.

You don’t give more than a glance as you approach the next street and made to cross, hearing no engines around this part of the town, and so swift is your pace that you are knocked clean off your feet as someone else appears from around the corner, colliding with your path.

You let out a small scream as you fall, not out of fear, but frustration.

“Are you alright?”

Your pride is smashed for the moment, and you can already feel that your right hip, right elbow, and the heel of your right hand would be very tender and sore, if not bruised, but you didn’t seem to be bleeding, thank goodness.

You frown but reach to take the hand of the offender, who’d leaned closer to help you get up. “You should be more careful and watch where you’re going!” you huff as he hoists you up almost effortlessly. You know you should have been looking more closely yourself, but it was definitely him, too.

After smoothing the fabric of your dress, you lift your face up to look at him, and your breath catches in your throat.

The stranger is tall and dressed in a black dinner jacket, with short brown hair, piercing blue eyes, and a firm jaw. “My apologies,” he said.

You take half a step back, pulling your hand out of his gloved hand, and smooth it over your dress again, looking down to see if it has torn or been soiled. “Is my dress alright?” you ask, looking back up to his face and turning slightly.

His eyes scan your figure, and suddenly you wish you hadn’t asked, heat rising up your neck and across your cheeks under the man’s intense gaze.

He reaches out and straightens part of your sleeve. “There. Good now.”

“Thank you.”

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” he asks.

“The docks; a boat party is leaving soon.”

“A young dame like you shouldn’t be walking through this part of the city alone.”

You frown at him. “I’m twenty-one and perfectly capable of getting somewhere on my own, thank you very much.”

The corner of his mouth twitches up. “I’d feel better if I could walk you there after our little incident.”

Maybe it would be good to have an escort for a few more minutes. “Fine, but only because you’re insisting, and only until we get to the docks. I can’t sneak you into the party.” And you didn’t want anyone to see this man walking you straight up to Hank’s boat. There were more than enough nosy Nellies that would immediately ask about him and spread that circulate the rumors like lightning.

With a nod of his head, he takes your hand and tucks it in the crook of his elbow, his gloved hand covering your fingers, a silent indication to keep hold of his arm.

“This way?” he asks, inclining his head to the left. You nod, and he whisks you away immediately.

He asks short, leading questions designed to keep words tumbling out of your mouth so he could stay focused on completing his mission, but of course you don’t know that. He’s too good at what he does for you to even question. You assume the kindness of a gallant, tall, dark, and handsome stranger. To him you’ve become the convenient cover as he puts distance between himself and the restaurant where three still bodies bleed out. Anyone looking for him won’t consider what looks like a young couple in love as they comb the streets for an assassin.

He’s walked you nearly all the way to the docks when tires screech as a car up at the corner ahead takes the sharp turn and begins coming your way, and no less suddenly, your escort has flung you up against the wall, a hand over your mouth before you can make a sound. You are breathless as your turn your head slightly to look at him. The two of you are not entirely in the shadows, and your bodies aren’t totally flush against each other, but the right half of his body has you pinned up against the wall, one leg planted between yours. You’ve shared a few kisses with some suitors, but this is the closest a man has ever been to you, complete contact from hips to shoulders. One hand is still hovering over your mouth, and the other has come up to brace your shoulder. He inclines his head down slightly to hover next to your ear, and the whisper of a breath you feel on your neck makes you shiver.

“Just a moment,” he promises.

It’s intoxicating.

The car passes. You both hear another car speeding down the road from the opposite direction, and he continues to hold you in what looks to anyone else like an intimate daliance.

Once the second car has passed, he steps away, and you can only blink at him for a few seconds before you recover.

He slips your hand into his arm again and tugs you back along the street.

He doesn’t usher you back into conversation, but it’s only another block before the buildings come to an end to give way to the network of St. Tropez docks.

He removes your hand from his arm and says, “Stay out of trouble,” before stepping back away from you and disappearing into the shadows, heading down another alley.

You shake your head and turn around, not knowing whether you really expect to see him or where he went. Ahead you hear another car pass, but this one has music playing loudly, and you smile and remember where you’re going. The more steps you take toward the docks, the more the music and then loud voices and laughter pull you in and push out the thoughts surrounding the man you just encountered. Helen calls your name, jumping and waving at the end of a small yacht, and then a smile beams across your face, and you forget the stranger almost completely.

November 21, 1963 – Dallas, Texas, United States

You didn’t think of him again until you see him across the way at the hotel bar, a small glass of something in front of him that looks untouched, his eyes on you. You bite your lip and incline your head to the side slightly. He gives a single small nod in response.

Suddenly Helen is arriving in a huff next to you, explaining the chaos of the last hour she’s had getting ready, the unexpected call from her soon-to-be mother-in-law, and the handful of other excuses that made her late meeting you here. Once she’s settled and ordering her drink, you look back across the bar, but your forgotten memory of a man is nowhere to be seen, the now empty glass the only indication you hadn’t made it up entirely.

You and Helen have a cocktail each before it’s time to head across the street to the restaurant to meet your respective fiancés for dinner.

The reason you hadn’t thought of that whirlwind encounter again was because that night on the yacht had exceeded your own expectations, catching Hudson Stanton’s eye early in the evening, laughing over dinner, dancing, watching the stars alone on the top deck, sharing your first kiss, and then, and then, and endless letters while you were apart, summers and holidays and weekends together while you finished school, and now an engagement ring on your finger, and you in Dallas this weekend to look at a house as Hudson’s firm has transferred him to head up their first office in the great state of Texas, your big New Year’s Day wedding less than six weeks away.

Dinner with Hudson, Helen, and Jack is just as you expected. Helen and Jack beg the pair of you to go dancing with them, but Hudson maintains he’s got to turn in early since he has to pick up his boss from the airport in the morning, Helen and Jack don’t press too hard, and you don’t expect to see Helen return to your hotel room that night, suspecting she’ll end up with Jack all night instead.

Hudson walks you back to your hotel and kisses you goodnight before you go inside. He won’t even walk you to the elevator because you both know if you get him that far, he won’t be able to refuse just the ride up, and then just walking you to your door, and…

You love and loathe how much of a gentleman he is.

Your thoughts are still sweetly lingering on Hudson as you walk through the hotel lobby. It’s busy tonight, music spilling out from the ballroom, and you start humming along with the familiar tune the band is playing.

You’re reaching to press the button for the elevator when a hand catches yours, and you whip your head to find it’s the stranger from the bar, the mystery man from that night in St. Tropez.

“You!” Your rockets into your throat.

“Come with me,” he insists.

His hand is warm, and your eyes are locked, and that intoxicating feeling you’d felt with your back pressed up against the wall floods back over you because even just the gaze from his intense blue eyes is too much. He’s not real. He can’t be.

But you nod, and he pulls you swiftly through the bodies milling about the lobby and into the ballroom. Once inside, he continues further into the room, and sweeps you into the swirl of bodies dancing in the middle. It’s darker here, but you can see every detail of his face, suddenly so close to yours again. There are too many questions you could ask, so you ask none. Your bones are melting as he holds your body flush against his, totally caught up in the movement and the music as he leads you around the dance floor.

You’re blissfully unaware that you have become an invisibility cloak to him again, this time an instrument to get close enough to his targets to verify them and register their voices in his head. He could have done this without you, but he ignores that. Using you as a cover make this easier, and his superiors don’t care how an assignment is completed if it’s done efficiently and without any trouble to clean up.

The first song you dance to is jaunty and keeps you smiling and feeling breathless. You don’t look at him much, your eyes moving around the room, taking everything in. He leads well, but the pace is so quick that you’re looking around as well to make sure you don’t bump into anyone. The next song is slow, a sweet Sinatra standard. You don’t know if he pulls you in or if you push your body closer to him, but within moments of the shift of the tone on the dance floor, you’re moving as one. His right hand has dropped to the small of your back and is not merely resting there, but intently holding you against him.

This was never part of his training, but his body knows how to move around the ballroom without a second thought. As you sway slowly together, he maneuvers you to a darker corner of the dance floor. Your head is inclined slightly, placing your cheek closer to his, and he presses his face to yours briefly. Then the two of you are in an alcove, hidden from nearly everyone, and your back is against the wall again. His lips brush your cheek, and you turn your head up to look at him. He keeps his right hand at the small of your back, but his left hand drops your hand and comes to the side of your neck, his thumb brushing softly over your jawline, his eyes searching yours. You nod, and his mouth captures yours.

The kiss is heated and hungry, he will devour you, and in this moment you don’t care. You cling to him, one hand snaking up his back to hold desperately to his shoulder as you pull closer to him, and the other clutching at his chest where you feel some sort of armored metal near his heart for a moment. He nips at your bottom lip, and you gasp and open your mouth to him. His tongue plunges in to stroke yours, to taste you.

He’s on an entirely different mission now, and his lips move from your mouth to trail along your jaw to that spot behind your ear, and you moan. You can feel an answering rumble in his chest, and his lips continue down the side of your neck, to your collarbone, making you gasp. You long to whimper his name but realize you can’t.

“Wait, wait,” you whisper, and his lips trail back up your throat.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, his breath hot as it ghosts over your ear.

“No, just–” you fight to coherently string your words together, “What’s your name?”

He pulls away slightly to look into your eyes, and you think you see a flash of uncertainty, but then it’s gone, and his lips move back to burrow in the crook of your neck, and he murmurs, “You don’t need to know that.”

“But I want to know,” you press, your fingers softly playing with his bowtie.

“We don’t always get what we want,” he says firmly, and suddenly there’s all kinds of space between you. He’s retreating, and you reach your hand out to touch his face, but he shakes his head, and then he disappears around the corner.

You stomach has plummeted, and so it takes you too long to step forward and look around the corner and back into the crowd. There’s no sign of him, so there’s no point in following, you know that. You fall back into the alcove and press up against the wall, hands clutched to your chest, heaving from the heated moment but also now from the fight to keep from crying.

You wait until you’re calm enough to step out of the shadows again, smoothing your dress and your hair. You keep along the edges of the party, careful not to draw anyone’s attention, then move across the lobby and to the elevator. You keep your eyes focused up on the arrow above the sliding doors that moves slowly from left to right as the lift rises to your floor, dinging when it hits the ten. Once you’re in your room, you close the door behind you, and rest back against it, letting your head fall back, eyes stinging again, but you bite your lip and shake your head and push away from the door.

As you move further into your room, your breath catches as you see an enormous display of more white and pink roses and peonies than you can count. You step quickly forward and snatch the card that is sticking out of the arrangement.

All my love, Holden

You smile and press the card to your chest, letting your other hand drift to touch the soft petals. With reluctance you set down the card and step away from the flowers to kick your shoes off and start to get ready for bed. Your eyes are drawn back to the flowers frequently as you move around the room and in and out of the bathroom.

The phone rings, and you pick up after the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Darling, did you get the flowers?”

“Yes, they’re perfect,” you sigh and sit on the bed.

The longer you talk, the more you’re glad you shared nothing more than a few kisses with your stranger, and the sting of shock and his sudden abandonment drift further and further away. Holden’s voice is a balm to your soul. You settle more comfortably into the bed, and you two talk until you fall asleep.

You wake again at some point not long after midnight to the beeping of the phone being off the hook, place it back on its cradle, and properly crawl under the covers, finding sleep again almost instantly.

Planning for a wedding and a move to a new home out of state would have been enough to occupy your thoughts and push the stranger and his intense blue eyes and heated kisses out of your mind, but added to that the following day in Dallas, minutes after you stood and waved at the presidential motorcade with Holden and Helen and Jack, you and the rest of the country and the rest of the world receive the horrifying news that John F. Kennedy has been shot, and then the news escalates from a shooting to the assassination of the American president. Trivial thoughts are long gone.

March 14, 1972 – Milan, Italy

You’re on a business trip with Hudson. Well, sometimes. Mostly you’re on a trip where you’re scheduled and bustled around with fifteen of the other office wives. You don’t usually mind, but there was no way you wanted to spend two hours on a bus to and then another two hours back from today’s excursion, and the women don’t fuss over you making your excuses to stay behind since you haven’t made them often on this trip, and you have ample valid excuses to draw from at the drop of a hat in your condition.

Today you wanted the day to yourself, just one day away from Marjorie, the middle-aged queen bee of all the wives. One day to do as you please.

You stay in bed just a little later than usual, eat breakfast on the patio of the hotel restaurant, then slowly amble around some of the tourist points of the city that your hired guides had whipped through in a frenzy the first few days with you and the other wives.

You think you see him first during your long lunch, but it’s across the street, and it’s probably not him anyway.

But it is him, and you didn’t see him first. You don’t know he saw you yesterday.

After you meander back to your hotel room, you draw a bath, intending to read for the rest of the afternoon. You twist your hair up, then sink into the tub. You read until the water’s lost its heat, then you wrap up in a silk robe and move out to the chaise lounge chair. You ring down to have afternoon tea service brought up to your room. It’s been years since you’ve had this kind of time – husband and house and two children already traipsing around your home while preparing for a third and the Junior League meetings and social and work functions. It’s been eight days in Italy, and half of you misses the hustle of home, but half of you wants to stay here away from the bustle like this forever.

A quarter of an hour later, there’s a quick trio of knocks, and you stretch and set your book down before rising to answer the door.

“Come in,” you offer, pulling the door open wide so the tea cart can be pushed in, and you quickly walk toward the small balcony and slide the glass door open to indicate that’s where you’d like them to leave your tea.

The tea cart has not been pushed along behind you though. It’s only been pushed a few feet into the room from the door, which the man, who is not hotel staff, is closing quietly.

He removes the uniform hat, places it on the corner of the tea cart, and runs a hand through his hair as he turns to look at you. His hair is a longer than it was in Dallas almost ten years earlier, but those impossibly blue eyes lock onto yours with the same intensity they did back then.

“It was you earlier today.”

He nods.

You stand motionless, but he strides across the room, not quickly, but not slowly either.

“What are you doing here?”

He does not answer with words, but with a kiss that pulls your soul from your chest up into your throat. Your hands come to his chest, and the natural inclination is to pull him closer, but somehow your brain registers that you should push him away. You can’t seem to put the effort into pushing against him, but you do hold him at bay and manage to turn away from him.

“I’m married,” you say.

“I don’t care that you’re married,” he responds, his hand brushing up your arm to your shoulder, then across to the base of your neck, drawing a shiver from you. “Unless he’s a bastard,” he adds.

“Why do you care at all?” It’s not a bitter question, just honest curiosity from you.

“I shouldn’t, but our paths have crossed too many times not to. We must belong to each other.”

He steps closer, and you feel the heat of him against your back. His hand moves to skim over your right collar bone, then down across your chest, slipping so easily into your silk robe, and palming your left breast. You moan sinfully, your right hand coming up to cover his, your fingers twining together.

Then another flash in your mind and you pull his hand away and turn back to face him.

“I’m married,” you repeat again, and you draw his hand down to the very new baby bump that is still mostly undetectable to others.

His eyes drop to your stomach, where your hands are resting together. The calculations are happening quickly, you can see it on his face. His eyes dart back up to yours, hand moving from your stomach to your hip.

“I came to claim what’s mine.”

He’s so close, and he’s looking at you with so much heat.

“I–“

You lose your ability to continue thinking clearly when both of his hands come up to capture either side of your neck.

“You,” he insists, his lips descending on yours, cutting off any more protest. “You’re mine.”

The kiss is demanding, and his hands don’t move from where they frame your neck until he can feel the moment you surrender to the kiss and to him. It’s a small sigh falling from your mouth that you can’t hold back, parting your lips, and his tongue slips in. Both of his hands from your neck across your clavicle to your shoulders, purposefully slipping beneath the silk robe, pushing it off. He easily releases the tie at your waist, and you don’t stop the robe from falling away completely, pooling on the floor.

His kisses are relentless, but his lips move to your jaw, and then your neck. Your head falls back, and he draws a moan from you when he pauses to tongue the sensitive spot where your neck and collarbone meet.

Then his mouth descends to your breasts, kissing along the curve of your left breast, then moving to the right. His right hand moves up to palm and gently squeeze one breast while he licks and sucks the nipple of the other. Finally powerless to fight anymore, your hands thread through his hair, urging him to continue. He easily scoops you up into his arms, bringing you into his chest, and your legs wrap around him, lips meeting each other again. He walks you over to the bed and tosses you onto the mattress.

You’re breathless, but so is he, standing above you at the edge of the bed. His blue eyes have blown with the lust he won’t deny, the lust he demands. He’s only looking at you, but the scorching heat of his eyes as they move over your nearly naked body have you burning in a way that you’ve never felt before. It’s overwhelming, and yet not unwelcome.

Before your head and your heart can catch up with your core, he reaches for your ankles and draws your body down to the edge of the mattress. He is quick in removing the last bit of clothing from your body, tossing the panties behind him without another thought.

Your arms are down by your sides, hands grasping at the sheets, watching as he undoes his pants, pushing them down around his thighs with his underwear in one go. His cock is hard and ready. Your eyes follow his hands now, and his right hand grazes along your inner thigh, coming to rest on top of your mound. He brushes his thumb over your folds and releases a deep satisfied hum, finding you hot and wet. You bite your lip as you look back up into his face. His thumb pushes inside you, and the small whimper that escapes you betrays what you were trying desperately to deny from him and from yourself.

He leans down over you, using his left arm to brace himself above you, removes his thumb from your entrance and slips in two long fingers, drawing a sigh from you.

“Just this moment,” he says, “this afternoon.” His lips seek yours again.

“Just this,” you agree and then continue the feverish kiss.

“Just you,” he murmurs against your cheek. He moves his hand and presses his cock warmly against you, teasing the tip in and out of your folds.

You look down to see where your bodies are connecting as he slides his into your cunt. Slowly he pulls back out, guiding the head of his penis over your clit, causing your hips to buck up into him at the sensation. You can feel him watching your face, taking in your reaction. You close your eyes as he slides into you again, and the exquisite fullness draws a moan from your lips.

He draws back out, then pushes in again, then another slow draw out, and back in till you take his length completely. Your breath comes in short gasps as you adjust to his size, and you clutch at the front of his uniform jacket. He brushes his right hand over your cheek, and you turn your head slightly to kiss his palm, a silent assurance that you’re okay.

He pulls your leg up to rest over his shoulder, and it seats him more deeply inside of you. The sound you make is one you’ve never made before as he starts thrusting again with this new angle. While his left hand stays planted at your side on the bed, his right hand freely explores your body, drifting up and down your neck, palming your breast, squeezing at your waist, brushing along your thigh, gripping your hips, threading into your hair to pull you in for another kiss, skimming over your shoulder. It’s a starved, hungry touch, and your body sings everywhere his fingers seek out.

Once he finds his rhythm, he is relentless, pumping more quickly. That he’s still mostly clothed while you’re naked beneath him is maddening but reassuring – you feel vulnerable beneath him, but if it was skin to skin with every inch of your bones pressing into his, it would be too intimate, completely undeniable. The single barrier keeps you from being consumed by this enigma, and since you know he’s going to disappear, you need that.

Both of you are breathing in heavy pants, and while he’s still drawing moans and whimpers from you, he’s been maddeningly silent. He adjusts his hips slightly so he can move his hand between you, fingers seeking out your aching clit, rubbing concentrated, furious circles over the bud. The band within you is pulling tighter and tighter, until and he achieves his goal in pushing you over the edge. You bite back a scream, and his mouth covers yours once again with a kiss to stifle the noise and possibly steal a bit of your soul – at least that’s how it feels as he fucks you through your climax, chasing his own end. You roll your hips slightly beneath him, and the shift makes his breath hitch. Two more powerful thrusts, and he stops, spilling his seed inside you, the low groan escaping him as gratifying to your ears as the feel of him sinking against you, pumping in and out of you slowly a few more times. Then he stills, and time seems to stop, the two of you just holding onto each other.

Satisfied.

He kisses the side of your neck again, and you hum contentedly. Your fingers brush gently through his hair. He squeezes your hip again, then suddenly rolls off you and moves from the bed. You want to reach for him, pull him back for more, but you don’t. He must disappear again.

After pulling up his trousers, he retrieves your robe and panties from the floor and sets them on the bed next to you. He does lean in for one final kiss, and you arch up to meet his lips. When he can feel you begin to melt again, he draws away, looking back only once when he reaches the door. You will remember that hint of a smile for years.

He disappears like a shadow.

December 16, 1991 – suburban area of Washington, D.C., United States

You sigh and drum your fingers against the steering wheel. You’ve just dropped your youngest off at high school and been to the grocery store. The traffic isn’t terrible, but it seems to be more congested and moving more slowly through this part of town than normal, and you’re bored and impatient. Suddenly you hear a commotion above the sounds of your radio, and you roll your window down and look around. There are cars honking, screeching of tires, and shouts in the street, but you can’t see clearly what’s happening as you crane your head to look all around. Only a few other drivers seem to be noticing the strangeness as well. You give up for a moment as the light changes and you pass through the intersection and then into the next block, but then you’re stopped again, waiting at another light, and the sounds grow softer, more distant. You look around again and still can’t seem to see any clue as to what’s going on, but you do see a man all in black with almost shoulder length hair walking incredibly fast down the sidewalk, moving quickly past the pedestrians around him. He is on the left side of the road, but walking your way, so it’s easy for you to follow his progress. He looks up and scans his surroundings, eyes naturally glancing your way, but when he does a doubletake your jaw drops because you know those eyes, that face, though the hair is longer.

His eyes now locked on you. He quickly but casually begins to cross the two lanes of traffic that separated you. “Let me in,” he says when he’s close enough before crossing in front of your car. You reach to unlock the passenger side door, and he slips in just before the light at the next intersection changes and the line of cars you were waiting behind begins to move again.

He sees a dark blue baseball cap left on the backseat by your son and quickly reaches for it, putting it on his own head. “Just drive like normal,” he says, “keep heading north or east.”

You nod and keep going, glancing over briefly to look at his face. He’s watching the streets.

The sound of sirens begins blaring behind you, and a glance in the rearview mirror shows a Chevy Blazer speeding through the quaint traffic, the cops in pursuit right behind. You and the cars around you move to the right and stop as quickly as you can as you’re supposed to – and to get out of the way – and you give your companion a quizzical look.

He shrugs, but there’s a hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

“So, hello,” you finally say after the commotion speeds past and normal traffic has resumes.

“Hello,” he responds.

You tuck your hair behind your ear, then glance at him again. It’s been almost twenty years since that afternoon in your hotel room in Milan. Before you slept together in Italy, you’d been so blissfully and happily married to Hudson. After sex with this stranger, you remained happily married to Hudson – you had certainly reeled from the realization of what had occurred between you two, but you genuinely didn’t have a desire for anything in your life to change. You never told a soul what happened, and after years it finally faded from your conscience.

With this man in your car, however, all the heat and memories from every encounter have flooded back immediately, vivid and undeniable. Part of your core aches. And you try to concentrate on your driving and keeping your breath even. All of that seems like a lifetime ago, almost made up like a fairytale, and yet he’s here, beside you again today, hardly a foot away.

And now he’s looking at you.

“Are you alright?”

His gaze is as intense as it always has been.

Everything about him is the same as it always has been.

But that can’t possibly be true, can it?

“You haven’t changed at all.” The words tumble so quickly out of your mouth, after you finally think of something to say. “What are you… some kind of Peter Pan?”

“If you want.”

“Well, you’ve never given me any other name.”

And just how much he hasn’t changed magnifies in your own mind how much you feel you’ve changed. You’ve aged, with lines around your eyes, five children rounding out your body, elbows the only true angle you feel your figure still has to boast, you know the grey in your hair has started to become more prominent despite your efforts to cover it up. You didn’t do all your make up today, only the essentials, and you’d only tossed on a sweater and jeans for what was supposed to be a typical Monday.

After another few minutes, you’re outside of the town and driving down a stretch of wooded highway.

“When you want to pull over and let me out, anywhere is good, I can make it where I need to go.”

You nod but don’t know exactly how to respond. There’s not an immediately convenient place to pull off, but your mind recalls some of the turn offs up ahead that you’ve passed a few hundred times. You don’t notice you nervously biting your bottom lip.

But he does, his eyes on you more than they are on the road.

“Or we can drive for a while.”

You glance back over at him, then turn your attention back to the road, tapping your thumbs anxiously on the steering wheel, your hands diligently gripping the ten and two position, the speed a little ahead of whatever is playing over the radio because you’re not even aware of the music at this point.

“Are you alright?” he asks again.

You huff out a breath you’ve been holding in. “You make me nervous.”

“You know I will never hurt you, don’t you?”

“Not that kind of nervous.”

The last time you were this close to each other, this man thoroughly fucked you into a mattress, and two decades later your body can’t deny the memories.

Finally, you reach a turnoff for a relatively unimportant road, flanked by forest on both sides. You drive a fair distance from the main road before you finally stop. Then you turn off the car, and return your hand to the wheel, needing that grounding to turn and face those blue eyes.

“I don’t understand. How can you look almost the same? The only thing that’s changed is your hair, some stubble, a new leather jacket.” You turn your head back to look out the windshield at the empty road before you. “You even look at me the same way you did back then, but I’m in no way the same young woman you came across a lifetime ago!”

Hudson still loves and adores you, but he hasn’t looked at you the way this man does in years – with this much heat, so intensely you can hardly breathe.

He never buckled in, so he easily angles his body to face you. Slowly, he reaches across the short space between you, brushing the fingers of his right hand tentatively over your fingers, giving you time to react or stop him, before he eases your hand off the wheel, letting your hand gently fall to rest in your lap. His eyes move to your face, and you close your eyes, holding your breath. His hands move down to unbuckle your seatbelt, and you let your left hand release from its grip on the wheel and shift out of the strap, drawing your hand to your chest. You nervously inhale and exhale. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest.

Then suddenly the slow hesitation is abandoned, and he turns your head towards him to receive his kiss. Lips and tongue urging you to surrender immediately, and you do, mouth opening to him, and he angles your head to deepen the kiss further. The kisses are hungry, those of a starved man. Your hands come up to hold helplessly onto his wrists as he continues to hold your face in his grasp, the overwhelming desire he won’t hold back any longer sweeping you away with him to a neverland where nothing else exists.

After a few moments or a few minutes, you really don’t know, his hands drop down and quickly find the button and zipper of your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping eagerly. Swiftly his left hand pushes your legs apart, his right hand slips down the front of your panties, and your breath hitches as his middle finger purposefully strokes from your clit down your slit, finding you very wet – all for him now. He continues to trace back and forth across your folds, but not quite back up to your clit.

When he finally slides that single long finger inside your heat, you moan, dropping your head back against the headrest. His lips move to your neck, pressing heated kisses slowly up and down the column of your throat, each press of his lips matching the rhythm of his finger moving in and out of you. You press your left hand up to the roof of your car, and the other clutches his forearm. He starts to draw his hand away, but you push him back, your hand sliding now over the back of his, holding him there, and now he slips in a second finger, curling deliciously into your core.

He pulls his head back to watch your face when he moves his thumb to start circling your clit while he continues pumping his fingers, seemingly fascinated by the whimpers and keens he’s pulling from you as he plays your core with expert touch, stroking that spongy spot that deliciously tightens the coil tighter and tighter within you. Your cheeks are totally flushed, and you feel like you’re flying as he pulls you closer to the edge.

“Please,” you rasp desperately, hips rocking into his hand.

He quickens his motions while applying more pressure, giving you what you ask for, and watches your face as you come undone with a breathy, wordless shout, body shaking, your other hand grasping his bicep, curling forward as he slows but continues stroking your clenching walls through the immediate comedown, slowly and more slowly until your breathing finally evens out.

“Look at me,” he says in a low voice that makes your stomach flip again, and you open your eyes. His face is still so close to you.

He withdraws his hand from your core and slips just the tip of his index finger into your open and panting mouth, urging you to taste yourself on him. You suck without thinking, but he only allows you a moment before drawing his hand away and then sucking each of his fingers clean. He wants you to see him enjoy the taste of you on his lips, and when he’s done, he licks his lips, reaches down and gathers more slick from your release on his index finger and then licks it off again, and you can only whimper as you watch, overcome by the still unsatiated level of his lust.

He places slow deliberate kisses up along your jaw, and when he reaches your ear, he whispers, “That’s how I still see you,” and licks the shell of your ear, making you shiver and melt back against the seat.

Then suddenly he withdraws from your personal space, and in the next second opens and closes the passenger side door and you only register the sound quickly enough to see him disappear into the trees.

October 11, 2001 – Seattle, Washington, United States

You are with Hudson in Seattle. Over the years you have been with him on many business trips, but this was a trip from one coast to the other to see a new grandbaby. The other grandparents have just arrived, so the two of you decided to go to dinner on your own.

As you’re led through the restaurant to your table, you think you see his familiar face far across the dining room, eyes catching briefly, but it’s likely not him.

An hour later you are taking one of the last bites of the dessert you shared with Hudson when the waiter returns. “Is there anything else I can get for you this evening?” he asks.

“Oh, no,” Hudson responds, “just the check, please.”

“It’s already been taken care of, sir.”

“What?” you both ask.

“I was told to say it’s compliments of someone who admires your relationship.”

Hudson reaches across the table to take your hand and says something to the waiter, but you don’t pay attention to his words.

You have no idea how to feel, but you know it had to be him.

2014

You have seen him a lot this year, but it’s been on the television screen. First as a piece in a storm of news and revelations the day S.H.I.E.L.D. launched and sank three hellicarriers in Washington D.C. and Captain America exposed the remnants of HYDRA that had burrowed within the organization – HYDRA and their “fist,” the Winter Soldier. Then there was the Senate investigation into what went on that day, preceded and followed by many news specials. Now you know more about him than you ever did before, and so much about him makes sense to you, though you imagine you will never know the whole story. Even now, so much that has been pieced together by the media and further sketched out by you is fractured, pieces missing, conjectures tying gaps together.

That he’s resurfaced in your life at this point is perhaps just as it should be. Though not physically present, he provides a consuming something else to think about in the new stage of your life where the other man who has been at the center of your life is also no longer physically present, as you awake and remember with a fresh wave of grief each day.

You’re not consumed by grief, there are still children, and grandchildren, friends, errands, hobbies, dreams, social obligations, but the person who was your constant is gone, and it’s always an ache.

You and Hudson had celebrated your fiftieth wedding anniversary at the beginning of the year, a stroke taking him one afternoon unexpectedly in the early spring. He was your best friend, and the two of you had certainly built a life together. It was not a fairytale perfect marriage, but pretty damn near close, and Hudson was the love of your life despite the man you now know was the Winter Soldier dropping incidents of indiscretion into your history. Over the years you had never spoken of the other man to anyone, reckoning with the incongruence on your own, knowing that the ties to both men existed but who your home was.

Nobody needs to know, all of that merely moments, unconnected to your true life.

Spring 2016 – Bucharest, Romania

You see him one last time as you lay in a hospital bed. He hovers just outside your door wearing the medical scrubs of the other nurses.

“Jane?” You draw your granddaughter’s attention from her book as she’s curled up in what can only be a moderately comfortable chair at your bedside.

“Yes, Gran?”

“Be a dear and go get me a real cup tea? You said there’s a good café just down at the corner, right?”

She stands and smiles. “I did. And if you’re craving tea, you must be feeling a little better.”

“Mhmm,” you hum. “It will be good for you to stretch your legs, too.”

“Alright, I’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll just wait here.”

She grins and shakes her head. “You better. No adventures without me.”

She slips her jacket on and slips out of your room.

A moment later, he enters.

“Hello, Sergeant Barnes.”

He smirks. “You know who I actually am.”

You nod. “How did you know I was here?”

“I saw you collapse this morning in the museum.”

You shake your head. “It’s nothing serious,” you say as he reaches for your charts.

“Cardiac arrhythmias.”

“Heart palpitations. Light fainting spell this morning. It hasn’t happened for a few years, and I hadn’t been eating properly the last few days. They’re keeping me for observation for twenty-four hours and then they’ll let me go if my heart behaves.”

“Good, you should have a good few years ahead of you still,” he says, almost admonishingly.

He stands at the side of your bed, but at the very foot of it seemingly trying to keep his distance, as if he doesn’t trust himself around others. Now that you know his story, his current behavior makes sense – especially why he was guarded but never hesitant before but keeps that buffer of distance now.

“She looks like you.”

“Jane? She’s a beautiful and brilliant young woman,” you say, a warm smile spreading across your face. “I’ll never admit aloud that she’s my favorite grandchild though.”

He doesn’t respond but gives you a tight-lipped smile.

“She’s my traveling companion for a grand adventure around Europe.”

“It’s only the two of you here in Bucharest?”

You hesitate before answering. “Yes.”

This ageless Peter Pan could capture her easily into his orbit. She’s twenty-one, the same age you were when you first ran into the Winter Soldier. He must suspect that’s what you’re thinking.

“I’ll make sure she stays safe.”

“She’s young.”

“No younger than you were when we met.”

The heat rises in your cheeks. “It’s different.”

He nods and you notice his face soften slightly. “It is. I’m ancient.”

“Come sit by me, old man.” You motion to the chair next to your bed, and he comes forward and takes a seat, perching on the edge, back ramrod straight.

“You said you saw us at the museum. Why do I have the feeling you’ve been watching us since before today?”

He regards you for just a split second before answering. “I stay near the train station, close enough to leave town quickly if I need to. I saw you arrive two nights ago when I was walking back to my place.”

“How often did you see me before I saw you?”

“Every time. There were times you never knew I was there.”

“Were you checking up on me?”

He shook his head. “Not at first. St. Tropez, Dallas, Milan, DC, and Seattle were purely circumstantial, but after DC I did check on where you were when I could.”

“But how did you remember me when they took so much else away from you?”

His face churns out a wry, bitter smile. “Yeah, they took away a lot of who I was, tried to overwrite my memories and what I knew before they took me, but after the initial programming,” his tone with that particular word is more vitriolic than the rest, ”they thought it was good for me to have context and history for the missions they sent me on, the new skills I learned, knowledge I acquired. Wiping was messy, and they had to know what to wipe. You were never an interference of any kind all those years and part of the Winter Soldier – part of me – I think never gave them a hint of your existence because I knew they knew everything else about me, had control over everything, and I didn’t want to risk losing this one piece I had found outside of what they made me. The Winter Soldier wanted the secret and thank God for that because If they’d ever found out about you...”

He doesn’t need to finish the sentence. He studies the pattern of the hospital bedding, and it gives you a moment to study his face – you’re sure he knows this, allows it.

After a moment, you say, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk so much in all our meetings over the years.”

“I didn’t converse much as the Winter Soldier,” he replies, his eyes meeting yours again, his entire presence softening just a degree. “It’s still not something I’m used to yet.”

“I know so much about you now, and I thought I’d have a hundred questions to ask if I ever saw you again, but…”

“But?”

“But I imagine you are still searching and want answers about your own more than I do.” You move your hand to the edge of the bed and offer him your palm. “So just sit with me.”

You almost thought he would refuse, but he removes the glove from his right hand and then carefully puts his hand in yours, his gaze returning to your face.

“Just this afternoon.”

“Just us.”

You brush your thumb over the back of his hand. There isn’t heat between you today, but there’s still a closeness that is only the two of you.

2026

The next and last time he sees you is from a distance, laid to rest in a beautifully polished wooden casket covered in an abundant spray of white flowers, surrounded in a sea of people in black. He recognizes Jane among them, as well. Though the Winter Soldier had claimed a piece of you belonged to him, destiny entwining your paths too many times in those early years, he could see now and had always been glad to know you had a full life outside your scattered encounters. He sends his goodbye silently across the cemetery from where he watches unseen, and finally slips away.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

If you want to see more of this, anything else I'm working on, or chat about anything about my stories, MY ASKBOX IS ALWAYS OPEN!

VERY INFORMAL HISTORICAL/TIMELINE NOTES:

St. Tropez 1961 = St. Tropez was a big port for shipping at the time, so these deaths were two problematic traders making moving things in and out of the port difficult for Hydra.

Dallas 1963 = Assassination of President John F. Kennedy

Milan 1972 = From Wikipedia: Giangiacomo Feltrinelli (45), who had during the 1950s published the smuggled manuscript of Boris Pasternak's novel Doctor Zhivago, but later became a left-wing militant during Italy's Years of Lead, was found dead at the base of a power-line transmission tower outside Segrate, near his native Milan, on 15 March 1972. It was believed that he had died when a bomb he was attempting to plant on the tower went off, and later testimony by other members of the Red Brigades supported this. However, the death was always viewed suspiciously, and in the 2010s forensic reports surfaced that suggested he had been tied to the tower before the bomb went off, with various intelligence agencies inside and outside of Italy suspected of responsibility.

…sounds like the Winter Soldier to me.

Washington 1991 = Howard and Maria Stark and the acquisition of the newly developed super soldier serum.

Seattle 2001 = Unsolved murder of former US Attorney General Thomas Crane Wales, announced by the FBI in 2018 to likely have been the work of a paid hitman – or the Winter Soldier.

2014 = Aftermath of Captain America: The Winter Soldier

Romania 2016 = Theoretically just before the events of Captain America: Civil War.

2026 = arbitrary future date, Bucky just came to pay his respects, no mission or happenstance connected

#bucky x yn #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky x you #the winter soldier #winter soldier #winter soldier x y/n #winter soldier x you #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x female reader #winter soldier smut #bucky barnes smut #smut #peter pan influence #aspen wrote something #female reader

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lunarspiral1127 · 11 days

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X-Men 97 episode 6 *SPOILERS*

Shi'ar Empire/Space

Honestly, I wasn't expecting to see them and get an update on Xavier in this episode cause I thought this was gonna be the full Lifedeath conclusion, so more focus on Storm. But, I think it's nice to see how he's doing.

This is the first time we see Deathbird AKA Lilandra's sister in the X-Men animated series, and I like her look.

Gladiator is such a stoic bad@$$. Ngl, after seeing him fight after so long, Superman popped into my head. I think it was the powerset he displayed.

Ronan and the Kree! I wasn't expecting to see them cause we never had the Kree mentioned or shown in the previous show, so this was a nice surprise. Aldo, it's so refreshing to see Ronan the Accuser in his more comic- accurate outfit. Cause, I've only recently seen him and the Kree in their MCU outfits, so seeing the classics was nice.

Noticed Vulcan during the beginning....kinda awkward cause he's Scott's other brother. Dunno if they'll do anything with that, but then again, they didn't do much with Havok in the previous show.

It's good to see Xavier healthy again, but why hasn't he checked up on the X-Men during that year? Why didn't he let them know that he's okay? Is it because of that black hole?

Didn't know Xavier was interested in being Lilandra's....pet....psychics be kinky.

Xavier talking about Magnus....oh god, when he finds out what happened to him....

Man, even in space, mutants can't catch a break! Xavier gonna be emperor along with Lilandra, and these sunsofbeeches hate it cause he's Terran AND a mutant. Like, can the mutants EVER get anything nice?!

Xavier was willing to forgo his memories on Earth and of his friends and family. Just to be with Lilandra....god dammit, this show really is a soap opera.

Xavier educating the Shi'ar council, Deathbird, Gladiator, and even Lilandra on their system and why it's bad was pretty funny. Dude was going back to being a teacher. And, I thought he was succeeding until....

The vision. Now, he knows what happened to Genosha, and he gotta go back. Good, cause they need him more than ever. I just wish it didn't have to break him and Lilandra up. Like, can we have a good relationship that doesn't end in a breakup, death, or have way too much drama, please?!?!

GAMBIT!!! 😭 It still hurts! But, the vision could also be foreshadowing that he'll become Death of the Four Horsemen. And Magneto wasn't there, so does that mean he survived?!

Storm, Forge, and the Adversary

Storm called Forge "my love". She was mad at him earlier, but I guess despite the anger, she loves him too and understood that he tried to help her despite what he did.

The Adversary is spooky. I didn't get how they appeared, but from what the show says, the demon appears to feed on the self-loathing, so they sensed Forge AND Storm and came to them.

Storm's fear of tight spaces comes into play. The Adversary used her fear against her which almost worked. First time Forge was able to banish the demon, despite being poisoned, and the second time, Storm overcame her fears and doubts and got her powers back.

Oh yeah, MISTRESS OF THE ELEMENTS IS BACK!!! 🤩 She even got her iconic black outfit with the tiara! I'll miss her classic white outfit, though. And she got her long hair back! No offense to the mohawk.

Shoutout to @stormandforge for talking about how she got her powers back cause I was so confused and sleep-deprived. What makes the most sense was the machine Forge used worked. It's just that she had some kind of mental/psychological block going on with her powers and had to overcome it to reactivate them. Kinda like how Peter lost his powers in Spider-Man 2. As for how she got her outfit, well, Storm, in the very first episode in the previous show, used her lightning to change outfits. So, I chopped it off to that. Yeah, lightning doesn't work like that, but she looks beautiful! The hair was actually what I was most confused about cause she had a mohawk, and suddenly, her hair got long again? I thought some parts of her head was shaved. So how did her change? Same way as the outfit?

Forge is cured, so fingers crossed these two will be together and not end poorly and messy as it did in the comics. Please, I just need one good relationship in this freaking show that isn't gonna end in tragedy.

And she knows about Genosha. God, I really hope she doesn't get survivors guilt over this. But, we need her and Xavier more than ever with what's to come.

The rest

Y'know, it was one thing for Trask to be involved with the massacre, but Mr. Sinister? I wasn't expecting that. I thought it was the FoH or Apocalypse or maybe Nimrod. Either way, I'm mad now that I know who's responsible cause how dare them kill Gambit, Magneto, Leech and the others, and hurt Nightcrawler and Rogue! I really hope that they find a way to finish him off for good and make it hurt like hell!

NIGHTCRAWLER GOT TO BE PART OF THE INTRO!!! 🤩 Does that mean he's gonna be finally part of the X-Men? Will we ever get him using his swords? Cause they keep teasing that!

I just wish it wasn't at the expense of Magneto and Gambit's intros. Man, I was bracing myself, and they had to do that and the recap! UGH, IT STILL HURTS! 😭

The episodes have really alternated with multiple storylines in this show. The previous one usually focuses on one story at a time.

So, that's pretty much it. Good episode. One more episode left until even more trauma will be inflicted on us cause 8-10 are gonna be a doozy.

#x men 97 #x-men 97 #xmen 97 #episode 6 #episode six #x men 97 spoilers #marvel #charles xavier #lilandra #storm #ororo munroe #forge

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 5 months

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Phantom

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Nothing that's not Canon. But just in case, mentions of torture

Author’s Note: Its a day early but I dont care. A little bit more of torture. But I keep writing and adding more. 😅 I promise action and more next chapter. Characters might be a little out of character (Tony mostly) because I was having issues writing. My muse has been a fickle bitch lately. As a reminder, please be sure to follow @xxwritemeastoryxxlibrary and turn on notifications so you never miss a fic!

I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥

Phantom Masterlist || MCU Masterlist || Taglist

Every detail about her time as Phantom was sitting in his hand. Her trigger words, the torment and conditioning she had been subjected to, along with notes from her handlers about her missions would be within the pages of the journal. The one thing that kept her from ever falling into the wrong hands without a fight and he now had it.

She trusted him with the very detailed past she tried so hard to keep hidden from him. Trusted him with the very thing that could be used against her time and time again if allowed. He had it in his hand and he wanted nothing more than to watch it burn.

"FRIDAY, pull up any footage that may have caught a glimpse of Y/N."

Tony’s voice had caused Bucky to put everything back into its place before almost slamming the top back onto the box earning looks from the others. He simply shrugged his shoulders before bringing the box to his side. The vibranium keeping the box in a tight hold.

Unfortunately the only footage found was time stamped two days before her capture. A projected video came up from Tony’s watch. A tourist couple had been recording the vendors area.

Bucky had moved closer to look at the video footage as it began to play. They could hear the loud environment as the video began to pan over the vendors. People were chatting away and you could hear some laughter in the background.

Different vendors panned within seconds before a particular stand came into view. While the person behind the camera had been focused only on the goods each vendor had, they had unknowingly caught Y/N on camera.

Bucky watched as she spoke with a vendor. Watched as she would occasionally take in her surroundings, keeping watch of what could be lurking. A moment later the vendor pointed to something up and off screen. Y/N nodded her head a moment later before handing over cash. It wasn't long after that the person filming had moved past that particular stand and filmed the next vendor.

"This is how they found her. " Natasha noted.

"Why didn't we get notified about this clip?" Bucky asked.

With the recent missions, the data changed the sequence of importance in regards to Y/N. FRIDAY began. It earned a glare from Bucky. The more the team has cleaned up Hydra, the less information there is on her. Facial recognition scans have not been successful until now.

"Why don't we take this back to the quinjet?" Natasha offered. She could see the look of frustration and anger growing on Bucky. Her head nodded towards the shop owner who was leaning on the countertop listening with curiosity.

Bucky shook his head slightly before he turned and walked out of the shop. The sound of the door swinging open and slamming shut had caused the bells to rattle loudly causing the shop owner to flinch as it did.

"You know how this argument is going to happen, right?" Natasha asked as she watched Bucky through the window.

A long sigh came from Tony. "Yeah. If she was anyone else, she shouldn't have dropped lower on the priority list. I dropped the ball."

Bucky’s pace back to the quinjet had been quick. Each step he had taken seemed to cause the people around him to open a path for him to pass. He was sure that his stance was probably intimidating but at the moment he was trying to calm the internal storm that was brewing. And endless cycle of questions playing through his head.

How could she drop on the priority list?

How could FRIDAY not alert there was a video of her?

Would she be in Hydra’s hold now if I had known sooner?

Would I have made it in time to prevent it?

He didn't even notice the others coming towards him after looking through the apartments. He hadn't heard when Steve yelled out his name to get his attention several times. Nor did he notice the medium size box that Wanda held in her arms.

_____

The lies have finally caught up to me. I thought I burned and buried it deep enough. The hurt on Bucky’s face was proof that it hadn't been deep enough. I deserved every reaction he gave tonight before giving me the slightest moment of having a real birthday. I didn't deserve his kindness. If I'm being honest I should be locked away in a cell somewhere. Not currently sitting under an overpass for the night.

I can't stop seeing the look on his face and it kills me. I hurt him and I betrayed him in a way that there's no going back from.

Bucky knew he needed a moment to cool off. That up until recently everyone believed that Y/N was keeping to herself and doing a damn good job of it. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to argue with Stark about it all. But in reality, the blame game wouldn't do any of them any good.

Once he was on the quinjet alone, he found himself pulling out her journal and flipping through the pages. Part of him yelled that he shouldn't go through it. But the other part had wanted to believe there was something in there she'd leave for him to find.

His attention caught her birthday entry. As much as he tried to forget how things happened that night, they've haunted him since. Reading that entry however, hadn't brought him any kind of comfort.

I hope that one day he can forgive me. But I know there's a chance he never will. Life sure does have a way of coming back around and biting you in the ass. I should have done things differently. I should have… It's pointless to think about all the things I could have done. I've made my bed. The least I can do is lie uncomfortably in it.

"Bucky?" Wanda's voice was soft, pulling his attention from the journal. When Bucky looked up, he found Wanda standing there with a box in her arms. She had a small sympathetic smile on her face. "We found the apartment she used."

Quickly closing the journal, he set it on top of the box beside him before standing. "Anything?"

"Nothing that would help us to figure out where they might have gone." She said with a slight tilt of her head. "But I've found things she left behind. I thought you would want to go through them instead of leaving them there."

As she held the box out, Bucky gently took it from her. "Thank you for grabbing it." He turned and placed the box next to the other.

Wanda watched as he had done so. "Can I tell you something?" She asked a moment later.

Bucky’s eyebrow raised slightly as he turned to face her, but he nodded. "Sure."

"It isn't my intention to make you feel guilt or fear in any way with what I'm about to say." She watched as Bucky almost steeled himself for the inevitable. "While I have never attempted to see into your mind for respect for your privacy, there was a time I saw into hers for a moment. She did not fear many things. Not with the history she had. But she feared for you." She watched as Bucky’s face fell. "I did not understand why until recently." She paused for a moment as she heard the others begin to board the quinjet. "Her greatest fear was losing you by her own doing. I do not know if that fear was centered around what has already happened or if it was rooted deeper than keeping her past from you."

Bucky could only nod his head as he tried to process the information she had given him. He could now understand why that had been her fear. He understood the possibility of what she could possibly do in the process. Not only to him, but to others and the emotional torment that came with it.

"Did you know?" He asked curiously. If Wanda had seen into her mind, she must have seen something that gave Y/N away.

"Not until her party." Wanda responded. "Probably after you had learned the truth. Her mind had been completely open after you returned to the party." She sighed softly. "She was saying goodbye while we sang to her."

Flashes of memories played through his mind at her words. The fake smile that was plastered on his face as anger and betrayal laid just beneath it. The way Y/N had a smile on her face as their friends had begun to sing to her.

But he had missed the shift in her eyes that had been clear to Wanda. He had missed the moment Y/N had said her goodbyes through facial expressions. He had been too busy being angry with her.

Tony cleared his throat getting their attention. The others had been standing off not too far. When Bucky looked towards him, Tony had been rubbing the back of his neck.

"I adjusted protocols with FRIDAY. Y/N has been prioritized as unchanging number one." He began. "I've also adjusted it so that any and all new information comes directly to you to ensure nothing is missed. If I had known she had fallen on the priority list, I would have fixed it immediately. We all want her back and she would have been back sooner if-”

Incoming call from Colonel Rhodes. High priority for the team.

Tony shook his head and mumbled about interrupting him before instructing the AI to put him on speaker. “For someone who was such in rush to leave us earlier, this call sounds like you miss us.” He shrugged slightly. “Or checking in like some overprotective parent.”

"Ha ha, very funny. If I hadn't left, we'd all be in the dark about this. I have some information that might be of interest for that trip you're on." His voice came over the speaker.

"Spill." Tony said as he looked over at the others.

"A convoy with heavy duty machinery was ambushed leaving Germany early this morning."

"That doesn't sound like anything of use." Natasha noted.

"It was an inside job." That caused Bucky’s eyebrow to raise as he listened to the call. "It was decided less than 12 hours ago to move the convoy. No one could plan this elaborate of an ambush given that time frame. The information they had, they knew more than they should have."

"Anything on the team?" Steve asked.

"That's the thing that's got a lot of people scratching their heads on all fronts." The group looked at each other as if hearing those words had sparked something within them. "Ten soldiers were assigned. When the files were pulled for investigation only nine were found. Both physical and digital copies disappeared. When asked about the tenth soldier, they could only say that she was hand selected for her skills. Any piece of footage they have has been scrubbed without so much as a glimpse of her. Whoever she is, she's pretty damn good at being invisible."

"Any survivors?" Tony asked.

"Two fatalities. The others are going to make it out alive. The other mystery is why those two and not the others."

Bucky’s heart dropped as he processed the information. Three weeks had been too long for her. In that time they had manipulated her mind into being the asset she once was and tossed her back into the fire.

"They saw her face." He said a moment later. It caused all eyes to turn towards him. He sighed as he looked back at them. "No loose ends. Everything else can't prove she was there. You leave someone alive that knows who you are and the game is over."

"That makes sense." Natasha said with a shrug. "Can't describe someone you didn't see."

"If it was anyone else who said it, I'd be worried." Rhodes responded. "Now I hate to ask, but how sure are we that this wasn't done willingly?"

"She fought her way out before being captured." Bucky added. "None of this was willing. Everything she's left for us shows she wouldn't go down without a fight."

“Did she happen to leave any idea where they'd be heading next?" Rhodes asked.

"I doubt it." Bucky said with a sigh. "I haven't had a chance to go digging through what she left behind."

"That's if she even had a chance to leave anything behind." Sam noted. "By the looks of things she barely had enough time to leave what she did."

"If she did leave any indication, Hydra found it while searching her apartment." Steve added. It caused Bucky’s eyes to shoot over to Steve. "With the way the place was ransacked, they might have found what they were looking for. "

Keep it safe. Keep it hidden.

Bucky had almost mentioned they hadn't found what they were looking for. He had the very thing they were wanting and they couldn't find it. He should have mentioned it. He should have told them about the journal, but he couldn't bring himself to.

He trusted the people currently standing in the room with him and would gladly watch their backs at any given time. He would put his life on the line for a majority of them without a second thought. But the fear of having that journal fall into the wrong hands stopped him from saying anything about it.

"Just means we're gonna have to do a wide search while digging deep." He said instead. "We know they're out there and they're using her. With the proper channels, we should be able to find something to get a lead before she's used for anything more drastic."

"You mean more than killing people?" Rhodes' voice filled the air.

"Given how Hydra used her in the past," Natasha began before Bucky could. "A few deaths are better than her being used to bring down governments in Hydra’s favor. So yeah, let's get her back before we find ourselves either preventing or fighting a war we couldn't prevent.”

____

Six Months Later

The main conference room walls had been covered in papers taped to the walls. Each paper corresponds to a recent event that involved Hydra in some way. Each grouping of papers laid out the details of another ambush at Hydra’s hands. Each one taking either a piece of equipment or technology.

Even with all the information displayed on the walls, the Avengers had no idea what Hydra was attempting to assemble. FRIDAY couldn't pinpoint any variations of possible weapons. Nor could the AI predict where they could possibly hit next.

However, over the last several months they had been able to uncover several new hideaways that Hydra had been using. Each of them had helped to supply information towards the grand scheme of things. But with each thorough sweep, there were never any signs of Y/N.

With every Hydra captive they interrogated, none of them had physically laid eyes on Phantom. They all gave the same answer in different words but none of them could give locations. Phantom was only accessible through her handler.

Her handler that they all refused to give up any details about. The captives either went silent and refused to say anything else, or they purposely gave false information to throw off the Avengers. And when they came up empty handed from those false leads, it was Bucky that paid them a visit.

Bucky practically moved into the conference room. A pillow and blankets found a new home on the couch by the back wall. Only leaving when the missions deemed it necessary.

As he stood by the conference table going over the new files from their recent raid, Bucky’s mind occasionally went back to Y/N's journal. He had read it cover to cover several times and the small passages that surprisingly made him smile had played on a loop when he felt he needed it.

This is a little slice of heaven. I found myself actually enjoying a beach day. Last week, I walked past an antique shop that had a globe sitting in view of the window. I couldn't resist and I found myself spinning it. I was reminded how much we talked about doing something like picking a place on a spinning globe and just going there. It's how I ended up in Italy. It's peace. A calm that I haven't felt in months.

He could easily picture her sitting with her toes in the sand as she watched the waves. How he wished he would have been able to see her that day. But then there were entries that stuck in his mind for other reasons.

Out of all the things I've seen and believed in, you'd think I wouldn't be skeptical about psychics. But here I am sitting in the corner booth of a sketchy bar and this woman said she needed to speak with me. That the thoughts troubling me wouldn't last forever. And then she asked for his name. A name that I haven't physically spoken in over a year. Before I could even muster up a fake name to give her, she knew his name. Knew without me even saying anything. She told me he'd come around. That one day he was going to find me and save me from the internal torment that I'm facing. For a brief moment there was hope that sparked within me that maybe one day it would happen. Maybe one day Bucky will let me apologize a million times over. I hope that he can forgive me. But the reality is, after almost a year later, I don't think he will.

With each entry he read Bucky wondered what would have happened if he hadn't waited so long to go looking for her. Would they be put on a mission together like they used to by now? Or would they be on that vacation he talked about taking with her at one point.

Each page of her writing gave him a reason to kick himself in the ass for waiting so long. But in truth, he hadn't been ready to forgive her. The day he realized how much he missed her, she hadn't been to a safe house for six months. The day he forgave her was the day he started looking in vacant apartments when they completed missions.

And now as he stared at the papers in front of him, he knew that no matter how many what if situations he played in his mind, they wouldn't fix anything. The what ifs weren't going to get her back from Hydra. They weren't going to free her from the hold the black journal held over her.

At first Bucky kept the journal hidden. He didn't dare to open it and read any of the contents the pages held. He hadn't even thought about it until one night his nightmare got the best of him. One where Y/N couldn't be stopped from almost killing her friends.

Bucky searched through the pages for one command and one command only. While he hoped it would never come down to it, he felt a little better knowing he could stop her from doing something she’d never recover from.

A sigh passed his lips at the same time Steve walked into the room.

“That bad?” Steve asked with a chuckle.

Bucky shook his head. “No. I just…” He stopped for a moment as he looked at the file before him. “I thought by now we would have found her.”

“We're not going to stop until we do.” Steve noted as he looked at the current spread of papers on the table. “Anything from Mexico?”

A recent mission to a Hydra base just north of Mexico City provided them with more information than they had gotten in months. Bucky was attempting to sift through it all to see if anything could point them in the next direction.

“Same as the others so far.” Bucky shook his head. “Intel for everything else but for her.”

“The guys below haven't given up her handler either.” Steve added. More captives from the base, none of which wanted to speak about the handler. "Nat is giving it a go."

“Whoever it is, they're staying in the dark. They know the blind spots and use it to their advantage.” It was frustrating to Bucky. Frustrating to the team that a good lead would leave them empty handed.

Bucky picked up a CCTV still from the file he had been going through. The stills were deemed priority by FRIDAY for one reason or another. And as Bucky scanned the image attempting to find the reason, his eye caught the top corner of it.

“What is it?” Steve asked as he caught the way Bucky’s brows began to furrow as he looked at the image.

“FRIDAY?” Bucky called out to the AI. “Do we have the full clip from camera 5 that was flagged?” A moment later a projected image appeared from the middle of the table.

Playing now.

Both Bucky and Steve watched the clip. The camera angle had captured a side room and a hallway. A hallway that Bucky had recognized as he walked through it during the mission. The room in view was empty when he walked into it.

But as the camera panned the area, equipment could be seen in the room. The sight of it caused his heart to pick up in pace as flashes of memories played in front of him. His fist clenched around the photo in his hand as he tried to push the memories away. He shook his head slightly as he watched soldiers begin making their way down the hallway.

Several of them were struggling as they walked. Some were knocked down before quickly getting back up. A moment later, Y/N came into view, attempting to fight her way out of their hold. In view of the camera they watched as she threw punches and kicks. At one point she got a few of them off of her before a soldier came and tased her, sending her to the ground.

Steve's eyes shot to Bucky. He knew what was about to happen given what he was watching. Bucky’s eyes had been fixed on the projection. Steve could see the anger growing within his body language as well as tears well up in his eyes.

“FRIDAY turn-”

“No.” Bucky said never taking his eyes off the video.

It made Steve glad there was no audio attached to this clip. That there was no way for Bucky to hear the torment he was watching on the screen. He wouldn't be able to hear the way she started screaming the moment she was strapped in.

“Buck,” Steve said the moment he watched a tear fall on Bucky’s cheek. He tried to get his attention away from the screen.

“If her handler is in this video, I have to-”

“FRIDAY, run facial recognition through the whole clip and shut this off.” It was Tony's voice that filled the air. Bucky turned towards him the moment FRIDAY shut off the video, shaking his head and ready to protest. “Natasha can be quite persuasive in her interrogations." He walked further into the room. "We were able to piece together what they're trying to make. And in the process, we learned what two things they'll be going for next and where they'll more than likely be hit.”

“Where?” Bucky asked. The anger he felt didn't evaporate entirely. If anything it was fueling the need to get things rolling. He knew she was going to be the main player and that was his chance to get her back.

Tony sighed as he looked over at Steve for a moment before looking back at Bucky. “That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Y/N won't be at either of them.”

“Why wouldn't she be?” Bucky asked with a raised brow.

“Unless this is another false lead, which doesn't seem likely, given how Natasha obtained the information, but "Phantom" has a new mission she's been tasked with.” When Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, Tony continued. “It's us.”

Phantom Masterlist || MCU Masterlist || Taglist

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#marvel mcu #mcu fanfiction #Bucky Barnes #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x female reader #bucky barnes fics #bucky barnes fanfics #bucky barnes fanfiction #Phantom Series #Phantom #xxwritemeastoryxx writes 2023

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