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indouloureux · 2 years

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chateau (feel alright)

steve harrington x reader

summary: with your insomnia driving you insane, steve goes through the sleepless night helping you fall asleep in his arms.

word count: 3, 577

warnings: insomnia, fluff, smut mdni 18+

a/n: i was like halfway through my mcu peter fic then my brain stopped and told me to write steve??? anyway this is kinda short so bear with me pls hope you guys enjoy

MASTERLIST

explicit warnings: sleepy sex, slight choking, praise kink creampie, oral f receiving, fingering, multiple orgasms (like two lol)

1. shower, 12:34am

“(y/n)?”

Steve’s awakened by the soft pattering of the shower hitting the ceramic floor. His upper body cold with the lack of your warmth, and he immediately thinks that this was one of those nights – the unsleeping mind taking over your poor lethargic body.

He glances to the bedside table and faintly sees your notebook left open with a pencil on the edge. Steve scoots upward and takes the notebook into his large hands, opening the lamp to read your list. In the dim glow, your hand writing presents yourself to him in messy cursive written on the thin lined paper, a list you’d done years ago for nights like these.

It’s not your fault, really, rather it’s the Hawkins’ freakish encounters that keep you up late at night staring at the window, waiting for the inevitable. And a few weeks ago it had been okay – you’d been sleeping right on time, with the help of Steve's tactile touch and sweet loving.

Until right now. For some unknown reason. And he feels the guilt creep up to his chest at the thought that he may have not done enough.

Steve must have woken up too late because he hears the shower turn off. The light seeps through the bottom of the door, and turns off when the lock clicks. Steve places the notebook beside him and rubs the sleep off his eyes, bare chest nipped by the cold air that seeps through the ajar window.

You open the door, clad in a white towel that covers your body, residue water dripping down the carpeted floor. Steve frowns, pushing the covers off his legs to walk over to you, socked feet padding against the floor as he stares at your awfully pretty face that’s sunken by disappointment.

Your back is hunched with the upsetting weight of inertia on your shoulders. Steve places his hands on your shoulders and straightens them, rubbing the wet hair off your forehead. He cups your face, thumbs rubbing your eyebags.

“Hey,” you murmur. “Did I wake you?”

Steve shakes his head, smelling lavender and soap off your body, hands running up and down your shoulders. “No. Just woke up by myself, don’ worry.”

“Yeah,” you tell him, slipping on your underwear, not bothering to wear a bra. “It’s happening again, Steve. I’m sorry.”

Steve doesn’t care being late at night with you, as he’s told you many times before. But he does mind the sadness that creeps up your face when the tiredness can’t let you sleep in those opprobrious nights.

He instructs you to raise your hands and slips on your shirt, careful not to hit your face and smiles when your head peeks through. “‘s alright, babe. I’ll stay up with you.”

Shaking your head, you secure the shorts around your waist and take the towels off his hands. Steve brushes your hair out of your face, running a hand through your slick tresses and untangle the knots. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he places a hand on the back of your neck and kisses your forehead, letting his lips linger on your damp skin before he pulls away to massage wipe droplets off your eyelids. “I’ll be with you till you fall asleep, doll.”

2. read a book, 12: 39am

Steve’s head rests on your shoulder, hair lit into a soft brown provided by the orange light of the lamp beside you. A blanket covering both of your enervated bodies, there’s a hand that runs through his hair, and a hand on your book.

He turns the pages for you when you kiss his forehead, fighting his slowly blinking eyes and tries to read with you. But he finds the book you’re reading awfully disturbing, and when he reads a part that snaps his eyes wide open, Steve looks at you with a befuddled gaze.

“Baby, that book’s messed up,” he mumbles, wrapping the blanket closer around him. The soft fabric tickles your skin, and whilst pushing the glasses up your nose, you kiss his forehead. “I’m not turning that page. Let’s read something else.”

“No,” you whine, pulling on his arm when he tries to get up. “Mike told me to read this and I promised him I’d finish it so I can tell him what happens.”

He snorts, pushing your glasses back up when it continues to fall down your nose. “You’re reading a book so you can tell him what happens in it?” Steve shakes his head. "That kid's spoiled rotten."

There’s an incredulous look on his face that mingles with amusement, because he can’t believe you’re doing this for Mike, of all people. “Yeah. I mean, it’s interesting. It’s a killing, shapeshifting clown.”

“Who eats children,” he points out. “Why don’t you read something friendly? Like…like The Polar Express.” Steve looks up at you with puppy dog eyes, excitement riddling in his face at the mention of a child's book being read.

Your heart melts and breaks at the same time, because you know his excitement for it comes from the lack of affection he gets from his ignorant parents. And just like him, you intend to give love to his empty heart.

But you'd do it on another day. “I’d rather not.”

You kiss his forehead again, and he finally flips the page. He remains silent for the whole time, because he craves more of your soft lips on his skin, and he quietly relishes in your loving hands toy with his hair.

At some point, he's requested for you to read it aloud and you do. Which is a thing he regrets as he's on the verge of falling asleep as you do so, especially when you start reading faster and the kisses become frequent.

The sleep’s phantom hovers but never really mingles, and Steve tries to help you fall asleep faster by kissing everywhere on your shoulder, like it used to work. But when it doesn’t, his arm comes across your waist and tugging you closer to him, hopefully giving you some of his sleep.

3. solve a puzzle, 1: 40am

The gelid water keeps Steve awake as he frowns at the missing puzzle pieces, fingers tapping on his chin as blurry eyes look for the tiny squared cardboards.

“Do you know what that is?” you tap his shoulder and tilt your head sideway, neck gauche in its position. “Looks like a deformed lamb, babe.”

He looks down under the table, the lack of light blending in the pieces onto the floor. Steve hears the rapid clicking of the rubik’s cube you’re trying to solve while you simultaneously look for the other pieces.

“Baby, why are you looking there? It couldn’t have gotten that far.”

“But maybe it got blown away,” you crouch and rest your upper body on the ground to peek beneath the sofa, and still with the darkness, you don’t see anything.

Steve drinks his water and looks at the puzzle. “It actually does look like a deformed lamb. Look, he’s missing his eyes. I-I don’t think this ones supposed to go there.”

“I don’t think this is tiring me out at all.” You stand up, back aching the slightest. Steve makes his way to you, a hand to your back to rub the ache off, offering you his water. “We can do number four now.”

You take a sip, Steve holding the glass for you as your boyfriend’s eyes brighten, and suddenly the sleep is fully off his body and now he’s tugging his shirt off. “Great. I’m gonna fuck your brains out.”

4. have sex, 1: 48am

Steve’s got his mouth hot on yours, kissing you wild like he's been starved as his mouth widens and pushes his tongue inside, touching yours before he closes his lips and sinks deeper.

Your hand comes up to tug on his hair, pulling on the back of his neck as his barely covered cock grinds on your clothed cunt, damp underwears colliding, friction eliciting a low moan on your warm mouths.

"Steve," you whimper, leg coming up to press your clit on his dick. "Touch me."

He inhales your scent, breaking away and kisses his way to your already sweating neck. "Where are your manners, doll?"

Panting, you grab on his shoulders when he starts biting on the juncture of your neck, suckling until he's certain a mark would leave. "Please, Steve. Please please please."

"You'll be a good girl?" the indentation of his smile on your neck tickles you, leaving feather light kisses on the spot you're the most sensitive to. "'d you promise to be a good girl when I fuck you?"

"Yeah," you nod, pulling his face back to yours and kiss his lips. Soft, effervescent. "I'll be a good girl for you."

And so he moves down, kissing his way down your clothed top until he bites on the garter of your sleep shorts, fingers hooking underneath to pull it down with your damp panties coming with.

"God, baby, your pussy's so pretty," he looks up at you, senses the heat rushing to your face and possibly everywhere. "Pussy's so pretty you should feel how hard my cock is."

Steve throws it aside, cock hardening at the sight of your cunt glistening from the minimal light the streetlights give. You're already panting despite the lack of touch he's giving you. With his eyes looking up at you with pupils in a dusk of lustful haze, his tongue sticks out and presses the flat of his thick muscle on your folds.

He moans at your sweetness, pulling back to slip the tip of his tongue between your puffy folds and dragged up in a slow pace that has you mewling with your back arched up against nothing. Steve doesn't stop until he's reached your clit, lazily wrapping his lips around the bud and suckling its arousal.

"You taste so good, baby," a loud, obscene sound created between his lips and your wetness. "So fucking sweet even early in the morning, hm?"

When you move too much at his teasing suckles, his hands slither beneath your thighs until they press flat on your stomach, legs spread as far as they could and thighs locked in place. Steve's access is wide and with his attainability does he take advantage of your cunt open and pretty for him, tongue dragging between your folds and clit but never really going to where you want him.

Hands stopping from clutching the ivory sheets, they go down to tug on Steve's hair, moaning lewdly. "Baby," you whimper. "Stop teasing."

"But I'm supposed to tire you out," he breaks away, lips covered in slick and spreads them around your inner thighs that he generously bites before he's greedily come back to eat your pussy like it's his last meal (like it's not about to be two am). "You gotta be patient, babydoll."

But despite his declaration, a hand leaves your stomach. With your eyes closed, you feel a finger tracing your hold, prodding at it but never sinking in. "Steve!"

Finally, he sinks two inside, slowly as your walls evade his limbs the way you would to his cock. You moan louder than you should, and cover it up by biting your forearm as Steve pushes his fingers in until they're at his knuckles. He rubs your spongy spot, one that has you mewling tumultuously, providing him better music.

"That's it baby, good girl," he curls his fingers, the same way his tone curls into an applaud. It's tantalizingly slow, the pads of his fingers pressing against your walls before they've come to graze your sweet spot over and over again.

With his pink lips wrapped loosely still on your clit, his pace quickens and shoves a third one in, the stretch painfully gratifying until you hear the all too familiar squelching sound of your slick cunt against his versatile fingers. Steve fucks them in with a vigor that you think is impossible for him to have in a very early morning, libido probably driven by the smell of your arousal and your appraising moans.

"That's it, baby," you purr, tugging on his hair and pushing him harder against your cunt. "Fuck! Don't stop,"

And when you feel that coil tightening on your navel, you tell him so that you're close. Steve sucks the living shit out of your clit, fingers using all it's mobility as thrusts them vigorously in a way that you love it, pinky finger slapping on your pussy at every hard thrust.

Steve feels the warm cum evade his three fingers, coating them like paint and doesn't stop until he's milked all of you. He slows his fingers down, lets you ride your high until you push his head away and pull him back up to you.

With a face half covered by your slick and tendrils of cum coating the shadow of his midnight chin, he wipes it off and licks a finger clean, groaning at your delectable nectar. "Like honey on a spring, baby."

He doesn't kiss you first, instead shoves his two cum-coated fingers inside your mouth and presses it flat on your tongue, going deep until you gag around them. You clean your cum off his fingers, swallowing. Steve smiles and pulls them away, replaces it with his tongue that still tastes of you.

Lips still on yours, you tug on his briefs and pull his cock out — all swell and hard for you. You pump him, from base to tip, squeezing until there's a bead of cum seeping through his slit.

"Oh, baby," his head falls into the crook of your neck when you gradually jack him off, jaw slacking at your light squeezes and thumb grazing his head. "Oh, fuck yeah, keep going,"

You do, the other hand coming down to fondle with his balls, squeezing like what you'd do to his shaft, Steve's hips moving and fucking your hand. You tut. "Baby, how 'bout I give you something better? Something tighter?"

Barely a minute of jacking him off and his cock's already twitching. "Baby, you're gonna be the death of me, I swear."

You remove your hands from him, licking his slick off your palm and moaning at his bittersweet taste. Steve props himself up with one forearm, a hand coming down to guide his helmet on your entrance and wastes no time pushing in.

Concomitantly, you both moan at the feeling each other — his cock stretching you out in the best way possible, and your tight walls clenching on his hard cock. You arch your back, clothes tits pressing against his chest but your nipples sensitive and hard from the simple friction.

"N-ah! So, so tight," he kisses your throat, a hand coming up to wrap around it with his thumb and index squeezing the sides. Steve's hips begin moving, pushing out fully with his tip still inside until he sinks back in in a rough force that emits a wet slap from the impact of your sticky thighs. "So good for me, baby. Taking me so well like a good girl,"

Your hands come up to scratch on his back, feeling his muscles flex at every trust he makes. Your legs come up to wrap around his torso, the heels of your feet digging on his fast to urge him to go deeper into your pussy.

"Faster, Steve," you mewl. "Shit—...go harder."

He does, obeying you by fucking your puffy cunt faster, balls slamming on your ass and cock stretching you wide open when he removes he takes his hands and brings them to the back of your thighs, spreading them open to drive his dick deeper into your pussy.

Your moans become high-pitched and short like petulant whines, nipping and kissing Steve's neck as his fucking has gotten to a point where the headboard slams on the wall.

"I'm close," Steve pants, eyes closed tightly and jaw slacked open with a sheen coat of sweat dripping down his forehead and his baby hair. "Fuck, baby I'm gonna cum."

"Then cum," you clench around him, as tight as you could as you bring him closer to his orgasm. "I'm coming with you."

And when his hips stutter and a loud moan leaves his slackened mouth, face scrunched into what is a calamitous orgasm, you whimper and moan as you cum around his cock, his alabaster ropes filling you up to the brim and mixing your cum with his.

Steve drops down on top of you, hands massaging your sides as his ass raise and pulls his softening cock out of your full cunt. He knows he's gotten hard at the sight of his cum leaking off your gaping, clenching hole.

"Fuck, baby," he runs a hand through his hair. "That's so hot."

"Um, Steve?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want another go?"

How could he say no when his cock suddenly springs up when you finally exposed your tits to him?

5. watch a movie, 2:55 am

"So you're telling me his mom is trying to bang his son?"

Marty McFly's bright red vest blinds you and Steve's straining eyes. Your boyfriend shakes his head, hand absentmindedly rubbing your inner thigh to massage the ache away. "No. Well, she didn't know."

"She didn't know he was from the future?"

"Yeah."

"Oh," you nod your head. "And you watched this with Robin?"

"When we were high,"

"When you were high?" you sit up, hands on your lap and looking at Steve with wide eyes. His hand stops moving and looks at you perplexingly. "I thought you stopped getting high, Steve?"

"I mean, by accident—!"

"I swear if I find out you're still taking marijuana, I will waterboard you, Harrington."

"Boobies or water, I don't care being waterboarded."

"It's called motor boating for the tits, dumbass," you smack his arm. "You know what? This isn't working."

You reach for the remote and turn the TV off. Steve's smile falls and lets himself sink in disappointment with you, because even sex didn't tire you out. Your eyes adorn a twilight of hopeless glimmer, and all he can do is wrap his arms around your tired body.

Steve sighs. "I'm sorry, doll. Wish I could help you better."

You shake your head. "You did well, babe."

Then an idea comes into his head.

Steve sits forward and reaches for your notebook, hastily taking the pen off the table and scribbles his thought loudly like he's in an exam.

6. eat those sleeping gummies dance with steve!

His capitalized, brazen handwriting next to your looped and poised calligraphy, you read his addition. Your eyebrows furrow, looking up at your boyfriend who's stood up and offered his hand at you.

"Yeah?" his hand tilts. "Gonna dance with me or what?"

You set the notebook down. "Sure this would work?"

"If it's my idea, it totally will."

You stand up and smack his chest. "Cocky bitch."

With bodies entwined and hearts tethered into the dark morning of your shared home, Steve wraps his arms around your waist, yours coming up beneath his armpits and grabbing his shoulders as he gentles you into his soft humming.

And you rest your ear on his heartbeat, his harmonious humming synchs your heartbeat with his, his warmth and faint elation melting with yours.

"So I turn back in time," Steve sings into your hair, bodies dancing into a rhapsodic song. "I'm at the chateau and I feel alright,"

"Cool song." you say. "You made it?"

"For you," he pulls his head away and looks down at you. Steve leans in and presses a gentle kiss of exhaustion against your lips. "Yeah. I made it."

Maybe his idea did work. Because now you're by the sliding door to his backyard, gazing into the naked night sky with the moon high and bright, providing the gentle haze of slumber of those who remain in a dreamless sleep in this nightmarish town.

Your back on Steve's chest, legs on either side of you and yours flat on the carpet as you lay upwards on the couch, his strong arms wrapped around yours with hands entwined in a protective action. The ghost of his lips lingering on your forehead, and you slip in easily into slumber in the arms of your lover.

reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated <3

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companionjones · 8 months

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But He's Married (1/4)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Fandoms: Marvel, MCU

Summary: You meet a guy at a party.

Warnings: *Spoilers* Abusive relationship

1/2/3/4

*******

It was 11pm at a house-warming get-together that your friends Nat and Wanda had thrown you. It was really sweet of them, but honestly, you couldn't wait until everyone was gone and you had your new place to yourself again. You wanted to go to sleep.

"Hey, are you alright?" A man came through the crowd to where you were sitting alone on the couch.

You smiled. "Huh? Yeah. I'm okay. Just a little tired," you admitted.

He nodded. "I know how you feel. Me too. Is it okay if I sit?"

Not minding at all, you gestured to the spot next to you.

The man took a seat. "Yeah. This party's fun and everything, but I'm just more of a home body, I guess."

"Me too!" you related. "But I'm feeling a little less at home now with all these people here."

A look of surprise took over the man's face. "You're Y/n! This party is for you!"

"It is!" You laughed a little at his realization.

He then cringed, "Aw, I'm sorry you're not having fun at your own party. That sucks."

"It's not that bad," you lessened, "I'm very thankful that I have the friends that threw me this party. I'm just--"

"Exhausted," the man finished with you. He continued, "I got that." I had a long day at work today. I didn't really feel like going out."

You nodded. "Where do you work?"

"Stark Security," he answered without a second thought. "You?" He took a sip from his drink.

"The book store over on 3rd and South? I don't know if you know it--"

He almost choked on his beer. "I love going there! Have they got Kelly Pike's new book yet? How have I not seen you there?"

You started to laugh at his enthusiasm. It was adorable. "Well, to answer your first question, I believe her book came in earlier today. And the reason why you haven't seen me there is because I started yesterday. I just moved here. Hence the house-warming party?" You gestured around you.

The man grew sheepish. "Right. I guess I should've put that together..."

You smiled, "No, it's alright. So, what do you do at--"

"James?"

There were so many emotions that crossed his face when he heard what was apparently his name. Guilt, annoyance, even anger. You wondered what could've sparked all that when you turned your head to a very pissed off woman marching through the crowd.

James stood up. You did the same after a second of confusion.

"Shannon!" he greeted with a forced-happy tone. "You found me!"

"What do you mean 'found you'? Were you hiding from me?"

"No, that's not what I was sayi--"

"Who are you?" Shannon turned toward you venomously.

"Y/n L/n," you returned immediately, not trying to anger her further. You offered your hand for her to shake, but you brought it back down to your side when all she did was glare at it. "How do you two know each other?"

James looked as if he was going to say something but Shannon beat him to it. "I'm James' wife."

"Wife." You didn't know why you repeated that. You glanced at James, but he just offered you an apologetic look before Shannon pulled him away from you. She was muttering something about 'going home because this place is trashy'.

The rest of the party filed out pretty soon after that. You tried not to think that it was because of the small scene Shannon had caused.

One of the last guests to leave was a man named Steve. Apparently, he was close friends with James.

"Yeah. Bucky and I go way back," he told you.

"Bucky?" you wondered aloud.

Steve explained the nickname was from James' middle name: Buchanan.

"I saw you met Shannon too," the blond pointed out. "Word of advice: Don't pay much attention to her. Her bark is far worse than her bite." With that, Steve bid goodbye to you, Wanda, and Nat, and left for the night.

"You two don't have to stay to help clean up. It's pretty late." You offered to your two best friends when they started picking up trash.

Natasha clicked her tongue. "Don't start with that. We basically forced you to throw this party. We're staying."

"Of course we're staying," continued Wanda. "When else would we talk to you about McSteamy you were chatting up in the corner!"

Nat started chuckling.

The comment threw you through a loop. You felt your cheeks heat up. "We weren't in the corner..."

Wanda gasped, "So you admit you were chatting him up!"

"Well, I was..." you started.

Natasha's chuckles turned into full-out laughing.

"...But then I found he's married," you completed hastily.

Shaking her head, Wanda sypathized, "Poor, poor girl..."

Nat finished for her, "What have you gotten yourself into?"

*******

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #mcu #sebastian stan #companion jones #but he's married

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3mcwriting · 1 year

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Any Fan's Dream, Part 1

Any Fan's Dream Masterlist

Synopsis:

When you look around and see Avengers Tower in front of you and Peter Parker beside you, you wonder how the hell you managed to get into the MCU.

You blinked, then blinked again.

You observed your surroundings. There were humongous buildings towering over the many people bustling through the sidewalks of the crowded streets. The skyscrapers were hundreds of feet above your head, the view from up there must've been magnificent. But that wasn't what had you staring around in confusion.

The tall building standing proudly in front of you was what caught your attention.

Avengers.

That was what was written on the side of the ginormous building.

You felt someone grab your hand gently. "C’mon (y/n) we have to hurry or Mr. Stark will be mad at you for being late again."

You turned to the all too familiar voice, breath hitching in your throat as you met the eyes of a certain brown haired person that played one of your favorite superheroes, one that had an infamous Peter-tingle and could climb walls and sling from buildings.

"Tom Holland?" you breathed out, incredulous.

He looked at you, head tilted with concern. "Who's Tom Holland?" he questioned. "Are you alright (n/n)? You look a little dazed."

You were frozen.

Why was Tom Holland asking you if you were okay? Why was he talking to you at all? Why was the Avengers tower in front of you? What exactly was happening right now? How come Tom Holland didn't know who Tom Holland was?

"Mr. Stark?.." you asked, faltering. "I-what?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "Are you sure you're alright (n/n)? I'm sure Mr. Stark won't mind if you're not feeling well."

This had to be a dream. It had to be. There was simply no way in hell that you had entered the MCU. You pinched yourself, nothing happened. At this point, you couldn't care less if it was a hallucination. Dream or not, you were talking to PETER MFING PARKER!!

You briefly wondered what age you were in this world. You looked down at your body and it seemed the exact same as when you were in your home world. So, 18. You wondered what part of the timeline you were in? Your eyes scanned Peter's face and decided that he looked the most like in Civil War so you deduced it was sometime around that.

"So...what did you think of Sokovia?" you asked, guessing it was around the time of Age of Ultron.

Peter looked surprised at the question. "It was horrible, why are you asking?"

You nodded.

So it was after Sokovia. Oh shit! Has Civil War happened?

“No reason. Ugh, just one more question. Or, two questions. Are the Avengers still working together?”

Now Peter looked even more confused. “Of course, why wouldn't they be?"

You exhaled a sigh of relief. "Um, no reason. Just really interested in the Avengers, ya know?"

Peter laughed. "Trust me, I know about your Avengers obsession. What was your other question?"

Aha! It seemed like even in this world, you were a fan. Good taste, me.

"Oh, yeah," excitement bubbled up in you. "Can I give you a hug?"

“Uh-sure.” Peter flushed slightly, his voice was a little higher than usual when he answered you.

You laughed, AHHHH HE'S SO ADORABLE!!

You wasted no time and threw your arms around him. You almost screamed when you felt his arms wrap around you. You had no idea what you'd done to earn such an honor but you were thankful for it. Peter patted your back, and you moved away reluctantly. But then you thought of what he had said before, you worked for Tony Stank!!

Peter cleared his throat, a blush settling on his cheeks. "What was the hug for?"

Now, you had no idea what Peter was to you in this word, but guessed he was a close friend. You, having simped for almost all some of the Avengers, were not content with the friendzone. "What? I can't give a hottie a hug?"

Peter choked. "I-what? I mean-you're a hottie too?"

"Is that a question, Parker?" you teased him.

"No! You're a hottie too!" he said, trying to fix his questioning tone.

You laughed, so adorable. "It's fine, Peter. Just messing with you, I know I'm a hottie."

You had no idea how you had gotten to this point. You were restrained in a dark room and had the sneaking suspicion a certain raven-haired god was behind it. You knew that Loki didn't appear again until Thor: Ragnarok after Thor: The Dark World when he fakes his death. You would've thought that he was busy ruling Asgard under the disguise of being Odin (FUCK ODIN HE'S A BITCH) but maybe he doesn't do that the entire time between the movies.

OH MY GOD I WAS KIDNAPPED BY LOKI AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-

Your internal screaming was cut short when the god entered the room.

Holy shit. He's hotter in person.

"So, mortal." Loki said, distaste in his voice. "You are to be quiet and compliant."

You guessed he was waiting for the Avengers to come in and save you, so you were a hostage.

Great job (y/n), you've been in this world for less than an hour and you've already been captured by Loki.

You were slightly worried, knowing that Loki hasn't had all of his character development yet and embraced his role as an anti-hero. But you also knew that he was smart and would keep you alive because a hostage is only valuable while they're alive.

"Soooo, how's life hotstuff?" you said loudly. Internally you were freaking out because a) LOKI was holding you hostage and b) Loki was HOLDING YOU HOSTAGE!!

"Mortal, I told you to be quiet." Loki warned.

You smirked. "But I don't want tooooo. We can have a civilized conversation with each other, don'tcha think? Or you can let me go, that works too."

Loki sighed. "Leave it to a human to disobey the simplest rules."

"So, Loki," you said, "how's life in Asgard?"

A surprised look flashed across his face but was gone almost instantly. "And how would you know about that, mortal?"

You rolled your eyes. "You tried to take over Earth, you're pretty infamous, you know?"

Loki's eyes narrowed. "That's not an answer to my question."

"I learned all that from watching TV and searching you up."

Which was completely honest. You had watched Loki on TV which is where you learned about him, and you searched up most Marvel characters. But you were leaving out a couple of key details you hoped he wouldn't fish for. Because, you didn't have much faith in your deceiving skills when it came to lying to the man who faked his death like a million times.

Loki's expression went back to normal, but there was an emotion hiding in the depths of his green eyes. "I'll offer you a wonderful deal, human. You seem to be somewhat knowledgeable of me and if you can answer some questions about me, I will let you go.

Your eyes went wide. No way he was letting you go for a couple of measly answers about him. You knew something was up, with Loki, there was always a motive and you weren't very eager to find out what it was(that's a lie, you were really curious). But, you were a very knowledgeable simp. And freedom meant having the opportunity to meet more of your favorite heroes.

"Sounds easy," you said confidently.

Loki smirked, making you simultaneously swoon and become nervous. "We shall begin with the questions, then."

"Easy, you're a momma's boy." you answered, cheering in your head. You knew you had gotten all of the answers correct so far, given the intrigued look on Loki's face.

Loki tilted his head. "How would you know that?"

You froze.

Unlike the other questions he had asked before that, you couldn't blame your knowledge of him on the News. He and Frigga never interacted on Earth(as far as anyone knew) and there was no mention of her by any humans so you shouldn't know.

"You just...give off that vibe," you said, laughing nervously. "You know?"

Loki mulled that answer over in his head. "You're quite an intriguing human."

He snapped his fingers, the ropes that were holding you to the chair loosened. You had a brief thought of, YES YES YES!! MAGICCCC!!!!, but then wiggled out of your restraints and stood up.

You looked at Loki, winking at him while trying to hide your nervousness. "It's been a pleasure, see ya, Hotstuff!"

His eyes bored into you, green irises sweeping over your frame. "The pleasure was all mine."

Then he gently grasped your hand and planted a soft kiss on it, winking up at you.

Your knees damn near went out.

You smiled back wobbly, barely managing to restrain yourself from screaming.

Peter scanned the streets, eyes lighting up when he spotted your familiar figure. Quickly, he swung over to you and scooped you up in one swift movement. He had been so worried. You were acting strange before you had been snatched, and then it was like you had just disappeared and he had no idea where you were.

"Hey!" you said, then saw the person who had picked you up. "Wait a damn minute, Pe-Spider Man!"

You barely caught yourself from saying his name, not knowing if you were supposed to know his identity. Then you realized the predicament, you were swinging through the skyline of New York. You gulped when you saw the distance from you to the ground. But, that fear was quickly drowned out by excitement. You were swinging through the city with Peter Parker!! You whooped, laughing as the wind rushed by you. It was exhilarating and free and you loved it.

Your mind was a mixture of:

HOLY SHIT THIS IS SO COOL!!

And:

AHHHH I'M BEING SWUNG THROUGH NEW YORK BY SPIDER MAN!!! THIS IS AWESOME!

“Where are we going, Spider Man?” you tried to yell over the noise of the wind. He glanced at you and held you tighter, swinging to a tall building in the distance.

Ah, we're going to Avengers Tower. But why? You thought back to the timeline, Peter doesn't start working with the Avengers until they start breaking up. Oh, earlier he said I work with the Avengers. Or at least I work for Tony Stark. Maybe because of that? Seems likely enough.

You watched as the tower got closer, enjoying the transportation. You tightened your arms around Peter slightly, giving him a hug mid-swing. You could only imagine the flush painting his cheeks red. Assuming he wasn't super worry-crazy. In which case, he'd be too preoccupied with your disappearance to blush.

You stumbled as you landed on the balcony of the Tower, Peter's arms supporting you. You smiled at him. "Thanks Spider Man, that was so cool!"

Peter saluted and swung away just in time for the door to the balcony to burst wide open.

You sent a lopsided grin to Tony Stark. "Sorry, I'm a little late for work."

The expression of relief on Tony's face struck a chord in your heart. Wow, (y/n) from here must be well-loved. You had the ridiculous urge to be jealous of the girl you replaced. But, was it really so ridiculous? She's friends with Spider Man AND she managed to make Tony Stark care about her. She must be one hell of a person.

"Where have you been, kid?" Tony gave you a hug. You were surprised, but hugged back enthusiastically. Who were you to turn down a hug from Iron Man?

"So?" Tony asked as the two of you walked into the building. He was in classic mom pose, one hand on his hip with a foot tapping against the floor repeatedly.

"Oh! I was on my way here with Peter Parker and then I was snatched and-"

The elevator opened and Peter ran out and tackled you in a hug.

"He insisted on coming up, saying he was Miss. (l/n)'s companion."

Your eyes lit up, FRIDAY!!!!!

You felt a brief sense of surprise but then remembered that after Age of Ultron, Tony uses FRIDAY rather than JARVIS.

"Ohmygodohmygodareyouok??" Peter had his hands on your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. The situation struck you again, making you laugh. THE Spider Man is asking if I'm ok!! Peter didn't wait for you to answer his inquiry and enveloped you in his embrace again. "Don't worry me like that, (n/n). You scared me."

Your smile softened and you pat him on the back as he hugs you. "It's ok, Peter. I'm ok."

Your eyes closed as you hugged him tightly, rubbing circles on his back to sooth him out of the panic he'd worked himself into.

Tony watched the whole ordeal with a knowing smile on his face, Peter is whipped.

"Agent Romanoff and Captain Rogers are entering the room, they heard of Miss, (l/n)'s arrival."

Your eyes snapped open at the names. HOLY SHIT NATASHA ROMANOFF AND STEVE ROGERS ARE COMING IN HERE AND THEY KNOW ME TOO!!!!

The elevator doors dinged open again, letting in more people worried about you. They looked at you, concern in their eyes. Peter was still holding you tightly, so you could do nothing but wave at them.

"Move aside, 5-year-old. I wanna give her a hug too," Natasha said, staring at Peter until he let go of you. Part of you missed Peter's embrace but the rest of you was too caught up on the fact that Natasha Romanoff was about to hug you.

She wrapped her arms around you tightly. "You shouldn't scare us like that, babe. I think Stevie over there almost had a heart attack. You know how old he is, you'll stop his poor heart."

Steve glared at Natasha, his eyes softening when they landed on you. "All joking aside, you worried us. Are you okay, doll?"

You were positive you were in heaven. You had nicknames from Natasha, Steve, and Tony!! And you were best friends with Peter Parker!

"I'm okay, thanks Cap," you said.

Natasha released you from her embrace and you hurried over to Steve to give him a hug. His arms around you were the only things holding you up.

You wouldn’t be surprised if you died from your heart exploding with happiness. First, the Natasha Romanoff hugged you and now Steve “Language!” Rogers did!

It was a dream come true.

The celebration at the tower at the return of a well-loved person did not go unnoticed by a certain black-haired god. Green eyes swept over the scene playing out, intrigue growing in his being.

#mcu #marvel x reader #the avengers #avengers x reader #tony stark #clint barton #steve rodgers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #peter parker x reader #loki x reader #thor x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #any fan's dream

308 notes · View notes

liyawritesss · 1 year

Note

riri x reader going to a game or playing video games together late at night

ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʀᴇʟᴀx ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍɪɴᴅ

Characters: MCU!Riri Williams x Black!Fem!Reader

Type: Drabble

Synopsis: Finals are here and you've been studying non-stop for the past few weeks. Riri gets you to unwind in the only way you can’t refuse.

Warnings: cursing, riri gets a bit upset cuz you're not taking care of yourself, one mention of the word 'depression'

A/N: a mix of a drabble + textfic style that I thought would fit for this request. It's also been a minute since I actually wrote for riri but I have engaged in a lot of the his floating around for her. Particularly the stud!riri ones....if you squint you'll def see the inspiration lmaoo.

Tags: @6-noir @playhousedistee @shuririsdefenseattorney @shuriszn @zayswriting @wrendermedone @writingintheshadowsforever @mbakuetshurisprincess @verachii @slytherin-34 @the_lesbian-fangirl @itsmaniiiiiiiii @strangefishflapturtle @cuddl3s4shur1 @shuriislut @dejaonline @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @inmyheadimobsessed @aaliyg @cafehyunji @chunkybabygorl @rosielovesfamily @lulu-network

Ten forty-seven.

That was the time on your phone, printed in white against the background of your lock screen. You had been studying for four hours, since the second you got back to your dorm after your last class ended for the day. There had barely been a moment’s rest for you, and after the realization hit that you had been sitting in your seat for four fucking hours rereading the same study guide and notes over and over, you became increasingly aware of the sting your eyes and the soreness of your butt in your desk chair.

Finals were around the corner, and quite frankly, you couldn’t afford to not study. This semester had been exceptionally hard course wise, with the materials for many of your classes being dense and intense. The professors as well were not the kindest, and would make it all too easy for a student to slip up and fail, and you refused to be one of those students.

Your phone buzzes against the wood of your desk, and against your better judgment, you choose to pick it up and see the notifications you have. As you suspect, ignoring your phone and all other electronics for four hours straight garnered you a lot of notifications from the various apps you used on a day to day basis for entertainment and communication. And the first to sit at the top of your notifications column was from none other than your precious girlfriend herself.

riri baby ❣️

babe

baaaaaabbbeeee

let me know you’re alive goddamn

Imyyyyy

like a lot

you know you wouldn’t be stressing like this is you just let me help you study

you know im a good teacher :D

pls answer your goddamn phone

you act like i wont spam your shit you know i’m crazy like that

…..now if i send you sumn imma be in the wrong

you

jesus christ ri

riri baby ❣️

wooooooowwww so you respond to the threat of me sending you nudes but not me being lovey dovey n shit

i see how it is

you

you know what they say

a tit pic a day keeps the depression at bay

riri baby ❣️

I wish my phone wasn’t fucked up so i could send that raven simone gif of her saying ‘ya nasty’

cuz that’s what you are

n a s t y

you

you offered??????

riri baby ❣️

pls tell me you’re not still studying

you been doin that shit since last week

did you even eat anything when you got back to our room

you

I can neither confirm nor deny either of those questions

riri baby ❣️

omfg

ikyfl

Really (Y/N)?

you

that's not my name :(

you make it sound like i’m in trouble or sumn

riri baby ❣️

cuz you are????

bae its finna be eleven at night and you aint eat or take a break since you got back

you

ik ik ik

i tried to take one i really did

but i was just starting to understand some stuff and I didn't want my stupid brain to forget it just as i was already beginning to relearn it

and I still have so much to go….

riri baby ❣️

put you sumn on

im finna come pick you up and we finna go get sumn to eat

then i’mma spend the night with you and make sure you chill tf out on that studying shit bc you gon fuck around and make yourself sick from all that stress

aight?

you

okay…..

can we get

idk

tacos?

riri baby ❣️

yes we can get tacos pretty girl

And baby?

you

Yes?

riri baby ❣️

i love you

you’re doing great

you

thank you….n I love you too

can we also play the game when we come back?

riri baby ❣️

yes baby we can play the game

im suppose to be teaching you how to play 2K anyway

i’m downstairs mama

hurry up campus security be out here actin shady n shit

You were thankful that Riri had texted you in the end. You probably would be past out in your desk chair right now if you chose to ignore your phone again, but knowing Riri, she wouldn't have let that happen anyway. The trip to your favorite taco spot wasn’t long, and the cashier there who had memorized your orders made the process swift and painless.

Returning to your dorm room, Riri wasted no time in shoving your study materials into the drawer of your desk to be forgotten about until tomorrow. You just sat on your bed, as you watched her move about your room with precision, cleaning up your discarded shoes, jacket and backpack, and turning on your gaming console, slipping the 2K23 disc into the game disc slot and loading up the application.

“C’mere,” Riri mutters as she takes you by your hand and pulls you onto her lap after you’ve finished eating. The warmth from her hoodie warms your body that's littered in goosebumps, and she all but ages you against her by wrapping her arm around her waist to connect with the other handle of the controller. You find yourself paying much more attention to her tutorial of the game than any of the course material from any of your classes, her soft voice coaxing relaxation into your mind. And of course, as the ever so appreciative girlfriend you are to her, you make sure to feed her as well while she’s teaching you.

You’d save study for tomorrow. For right now, you were content with your girlfriend holding you close while she played her game, and you watched attentively, delivering her a victory kiss for every match she wins.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

214 notes · View notes

selfcarecap · 2 years

Text

Transparent Soul [p.p]

Pairing: Peter Parker x ghost!reader

Summary: You’ve been a ghost for nearly a year now, but your new friend Peter makes you feel more human than ever before. You fall in love with him hard and fast and you know he has the power to turn you back into a human, but you only have one chance. Is he really the right person?

Warnings: semi-suicidal thought for like ten seconds, a few mentions of depression, post nwh, mentions of death and dead parents and a car crash, but i promise it’s not a sad fic 💀, smut (no ghost smut </3, oral, f masturbation, finger sucking, protected vaginal sex), little bit of angst, this fic’s timeline vs mcu timeline is a bit wonky but we’ll ignore that <3 (—> peter is college age)

Word Count: um. 13k

Happy Halloween!! Finally managed to write a Halloween fic lol, I hope you enjoy ghost!reader <3

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

One of the things you hate most about being a ghost is not being able to touch anything. Your hand floats right through whatever you try to touch.

You’d give everything to finally pet the cat that you always hang out with on the fire escape of an apartment building in New York. She’s a black cat with piercing yellow eyes and despite being a stray, her fur looks as soft as anything and you keep each other company around this block of houses, though you prefer the one you’re currently on.

You could call this house your home, but you don‘t live in it. You‘re a ghost,. You have no need for an apartment. You just observe the people who live here, without ever interacting with them.

From experience you know that people don‘t react nicely to a ghost, unlike your cat friend. You’ve decided to call her Lucky, simply because you feel Lucky to have her. She’s the only friend you’ve made since becoming a ghost.

Lucky doesn‘t seem to care that you‘re a ghost, or maybe she doesn‘t even know. She always hangs out with you on this fire escape and stays with you for hours. Sometimes the brown-haired boy in apartment 7A leaves his leftovers out for her. You‘re glad someone‘s taking care of her - not that you‘ve ever seen him pet her. But he leaves food for her anyway.

Lucky has decided to leave you for the night - probably anoyed that you won’t pet her no matter how many times she tries to rub her head against your leg, only to be confused because she can’t actually touch you.

You’re visible, but just barely. A faint picture of the human you used to be, anyone could see you, but they would immediately realise that you’re not human, with your transluscent skin and hair and clothes.

You can choose to make yourself fullly invisible though, and it’s how you spend most of your days. Otherwise you’d only be met with fear and malice.

You make yourself invisible as soon as you see the boy from 7A swinging through the streets. Oh, have you forgot to mention? He’s Spider-Man.

You watch him as he makes sure no one sees him climbing into the window of his apartment. He closes the window behind himself and you look away when he changes into his pyjamas.

He’s barely home, always out late being Spider-Man and leaving early in the morning, you assume for work or college - you’ve seen him studying at his desk. He never has friends over and you wonder if he’s as lonely as you are or if he just meets people somewhere else.

You’ve been wanting to talk to him for a while. You’re hesitant because ever since you’ve been a ghost no human has ever reacted positively to you, but Spider-Man could be different.

He’s Spider-Man. An Avenger. If he’s fought a purple alien with a magic glove, then maybe he won’t be too creeped out by a ghost.

You don‘t want to put all of your trust and hope into him but he‘ll be the first person you talk to in months, so it is a big deal no matter how much you try to convince yourself of the opposite.

You‘ve tried to talk to people before, only to leave them traumatised or calling an exorcist and you had to find a new home again. You like this house. It‘s not in the nicest area but the people who live here are fun to observe and you‘d like to stay here, so you can only hope Spider-Man won‘t make you leave.

The thought of talking to him makes you so nervous though, so you’ll give yourself some time before you do it.

The next day, you’re sitting by the fire escape where you always sit.

It’s dark already and not a lot of people are out during this Thursday winter night, so you’re just sitting (well, floating) with your legs dangling off the railing. You’re not bothering to make yourself invisible - no one would see you here anyway.

You’re looking out for Lucky to come and join you, but she’s not here tonight, so you’re just listening to New York’s noises.

And then everything happens so quickly.

You turn your head and you see Spider-Man. You weren’t expecting him to come home yet and you’re too surprised to remember to make yourself invisible. Before you know it, he lands right next to you and you hear a loud and shocked “Oh” from him.

You make yourself invisible but it’s too late, he’s already seen you, so you become visible again. This is your chance to make a friend.

You don’t have a heart, but if you did it would be hammering against your ribcage at full speed. You don’t know what to say but the good news is he’s still here. He hasn’t told you to leave yet.

He just looks a little scared, with his forearms pulled tight to his chest. You can’t read his expression because he still has his mask on.

“Hi,” is all that comes out of your mouth. You haven’t really used your voice much but it sounds surprisingly normal.

He doesn’t reply. “Are you.. are you Spider-Man?” You ask, even though it’s obvious. But you don’t know what else to say. It’s hard to start a conversation when you don’t know if the other person is about to call an exorcist.

He replies with a shaky voice. “Yeah, I am. And, uh, and you are?”

You tell him your name and he nodds politely, still unsure.

“Yeah. I’m a ghost,” you smile slightly.

He relaxes a little, “Oh, I thought so. I wanted to ask but I didn’t know if it was like, uh offensive.”

You laugh and it feels so unfamiliar, “Well, I’m not offended.”

He smiles at you and you smile back, but you don’t know what to say. You’ve forgotten how to talk to people. You wait for him to say something and your (metaphorical) heart sinks with every second that he remains silent and fidgets with his hands instead. It would help if you could at least see his face.

You decide to just be honest. This conversation isn’t going anywhere else.

“I uh, I‘ve been in this house for a while and usually people um. They don‘t react nicely when they see me, so I mostly keep to myself. But then I saw you and I remembered seeing you on the news with the Avengers so if.. if you‘ve been with them then I assumed a ghost wouldn’t be the craziest thing you‘ve ever seen so uh..”

He hasn’t taken off his mask but you think you can see him smiling. It seems as if your explanation is enough for him to deem you harmless, as if he realised that you’re right, he has seen scarier things. What’s a ghost going to do to him?

“It‘s cold out here, do you wanna come in?” His words surprise you and you don’t remember the last time you smiled as widely as you do when he opens the window to his one-room apartment.

“I don’t have any feeling in my body so I can’t feel the cold but, uh, yeah. Thanks. I’ll come in.”

Maybe he just doesn’t value his life very much and that’s why he’s letting you, a stranger who is also a ghost, in his room. But maybe he just sees you. Maybe he sees that you just don’t want to be alone, and that you’re harmless.

You try not to overthink it too much. Maybe he’s just letting you in his room to try and kill you, but you feel good about him. So good that you almost forget you’re not a normal human with feelings who lives a normal human life.

He lets you in first but you float through the wall instead of ducking down to get through the window like he does behind you.

“Woah,” Spider-Man says, grinning. He looks you up and down, as if he’s just now noticing that you’re floating a few inches above the floor. You sit down to hover over his bed as he closes his window.

“So, are the movies about ghosts quite accurate then?” He turns around to ask you, and casually pulls his mask off - probably out of habit from when he comes home. He freezes for a second and then presses the mask over his face. He quickly turns away from you to slip it over his head again, mumbling something under his breath.

“I uh.. I’ve seen your face before but… it’s your choice of course.”

“Oh,” he says.

“I have no interest in exposing your identity,” you say, “It’s not like anyone would believe a ghost anyway,” you add sadly, looking down when you remember that this is not a normal, human, interaction.

“I don’t have much to do so I just like to people watch and uh, I’ve seen you in here with your mask off, so…” You explain, hoping he’ll trust you. Honesty is all you have.

When you look up, Spider-Man has pulled his mask off and smiles softly at you. You know he has no reason to trust you, doesn’t even owe it to you to talk to you. But he does it anyway, and he stretches his hand out, “I’m Peter, by the way.”

It’s nice to finally have a name for the boy from 7A. You reach for his hand out of instinct before you remember that you can’t take it. “Oh, uh, I can’t,” you say as you pull your hand back.

He stares at you for a second before he seems to understand and pulls his arm back too, “Oh, sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay. I forget it too sometimes.”

Peter looks at you curiously, curiously and nothing else, and you realise then that you forgot how it feels to have someone look at you without fear or hate. But you can tell he’s still getting used to talking to a ghost, so you try to start the conversation.

“The movies are quite accurate.”

“Huh?”

“You asked if the ghost movies are accurate. I think the most obvious things are true. You’re a floating nothing that can go through walls,” you chuckle, trying not to think of how shitty it feels to live your life that way.

He smiles and sits down on the bed with you, “Have you always been a ghost?”

The question makes your nonexistant heart ache and Peter must see it on your face, quickly adding, “You don’t have to talk about it, of course.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You take a deep breath and think for a moment. Then, you tell him your story.

You tell him how you were in a car crash with your family right when Thanos made half of the world’s population disappear. You turned into dust just as you were about to die.

When you came back five years later, your family was dead. You always assumed you were just on the brink of death when Thanos snapped his fingers, and the universe couldn’t decide whether to let you live or not, so now you’re somewhere in between. But sometimes, you’d rather be dead.

Peter has tears in his eyes by the time you’re done speaking. You can tell that he’s speechless, and you’re not expecting him to say anything.

“Wow… I’m so sorry,” is all he says.

“I try to see the positive side of things. At least I got another chance at life, not many people do. It’s not really like this life has been worth living but.. maybe I just haven’t figured out how to be a good ghost yet.”

You decide not to tell him how depressed you’ve really been. You haven’t ever talked about what happened, and this was hard enough to talk about. Although it does feel better, finally getting your story off your chest. You remember that you’re telling all your secrets to a stranger, but you already know his biggest secret too, so it’s fair.

“I know I’m not a ghost, so I’m not saying I understand but… I think I kind of understand.”

He tells you about his dead parents, then his dead aunt. He tells you about parallel universes and losing all of his friends. He tells you how everyone had to forget him.

He keeps saying that he knows how crazy it sounds, but it really happened. You assure him that you don’t doubt a single thing he says. Who are you to decide what really happened and what didn’t, when you’re a literal ghost.

He doesn’t tell you how depressed and lonely he is either, but it’s obvious. You assume it’s also obvious to him how sad you are. Maybe you don’t need to say it - you understand each other wordlessly.

He’s careful to not sound like he’s implying that he fully understands you. He’s not a ghost, so of course he can’t. But at the core, you’re the same. You’re alone and you’re lonely.

Yes, he has the chance to make new friends and you don’t, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re both lonely, both suffering.

He’s choked up by the time he’s done talking and you don’t know he’s managed to not break down sobbing yet.

You’re both quiet for a while after he’s finished talking. You can’t say anything to make it better, so you don’t try. You’re here, and that’s more than he’s had in a while.

“Wow, you could have stopped me there,” Peter smiles awkwardly, “Look at me oversharing. Sorry.”

“You and me both,” you say, giving him a reassuring smile, “And it’s okay to cry, by the way. I wish I could.”

“You can’t cry?” He asks, his eyes red and wet, but he’s not crying yet.

“I can’t. I feel things inside, I have feelings and emotions like everyone else. But there’s nothing physical. I don’t eat or sleep or cry. If you touch me I won’t feel it. You won’t either. It’s all just on the inside, and I have the urge to cry sometimes, but I just literally can’t. I’d give everything to cry again. So, please, cry. I can leave if you need time.”

“No no, no,” he wipes his tears away and smiles bashfully at being so eager. He has no idea that you’re even more eager to be spending time together.

You get the feeling he needs the company as much as you do. He just told you how he lost everything. Your situations are so similar it‘s nearly scary. So if you need him, you know he needs you too.

He asks more questions about you being a ghost - more light-hearted ones, and you happily answer them all. The soul-crushing loneliness aside, there are a few cool things about being a ghost.

You can go anywhere you want, without being seen. You don’t have to be scared of men when you’re out late at night, if anything, men would be scared of you. You may or may not have scared some creepy men on purpose before.

There’s one question Peter hasn’t asked yet, but you know he wants to. Instead of making him ask, you just ask him if he wants to touch you. He grins at your offer and you hold out your arm for him to touch it.

His hand goes right through you when he tries to touch you, and he’s as giddy as a child being told they can have some candy. You can tell that he thinks it’s cool.

You like that you’re making Peter smile and laugh and even talking to someone is making you happier than you’ve been in months. But deep down it also makes you sad. You can’t even touch Peter’s hand, let alone hug him, or hold him.

You try to ignore those thoughts though. Being with Peter is still better than all the months you’ve spent alone since you became a ghost.

You know it will make him laugh, so you reach right through his chest, your arm going right through him. And even though there’s still a general sadness within you, Peter is making you so happy right now.

Even though you’re talking about being a ghost, and showing him how not-human you are, even though you’re a floating thing of light that doesn’t feel like it’s there, he makes you feel the most human emotion there is. It’s not love, you’ve only known him a few hours. But you just like him. Maybe you’re just emotionally starved, and you’d like anyone who would give you the time of day, but you can’t feel the difference.

You enjoy spending time with him. You get along well. And it’s making you feel like you could stay with him and talk with him forever. He’s making you feel like you actually have a heart. And your heart is telling you that Peter is a good soul, someone to keep in your life, who deserves all the happiness in the world.

He’s making you feel like a normal person, with normal human emotions. He’s making you forget about all the loss and the loneliness. And it’s all you’ve been asking for since you turned into a ghost.

Being with Peter is wonderful.

You talk through the whole night and it doesn’t even cross your mind that you won’t be able to talk to him forever. He doesn’t realise this either until the sun rises and the streets are bright again.

“Oh my god, it’s so late, well, early,” he looks at his phone, “Shit, I have to go to class like. Right now.”

You watch him pick up a few things and he stuffs them into his bag, sticking his toothbrush in his mouth while he gets ready.

“I uh, I’ll go then,” you call out to him while he’s getting ready. He’s stressed and you don’t want to add to it.

“Wait,” he stops you, “I need to see you again. Uh, I mean, do you want to hang out again later?”

You grin, “Yeah, I’d love to.”

He grins too, unable to look at you, “Okay, where will you be?”

“I’ll be at the fire escape when you come home. Same time as yesterday?”

“Yes. But you can also stay in here, just if you want to.”

��I might. Thanks. Now go and get ready and don’t worry about me.”

He’s gone two minutes later and you’re already looking forward to when he comes back. You go on a walk, the longest route you can think of, to distract yourself.

Peter comes home earlier than he said and seems surprised that you’re there.

“Hi,” you say, getting up from his bed and floating over to him. It’s not like you could hug him hello, but you still want to be close, “How was your day?”

“Hi, it was good, yeah. I’ll tell you later but I uh. Just… just so you know, I didn’t fully express how much I enjoyed last night. If I’m honest, while I was at work I thought maybe I just hallucinated you. Because you’re too good to be true because we just get on so well and also because I’ve never met a ghost before so I didn’t know if you were real,” you both laugh, “But now you’re here again and I‘m just so happy that we met. And that we got along so well and just.. yeah. I really need a friend.”

You don’t know what to say yet, so you just grin. You feel the same, even after one day. Sometimes time doesn’t mean a thing and you just recognise a good soul. Both of you did.

“I just really wish I could hug you right now,” you say, your voice sounds like you’re about to cry but you know it won’t happen.

“We can try,” Peter suggests quietly.

“Okay.”

You both take a step forward and put your arms around each other, but you don’t feel anything. It’s awkward for both of you and you leaned in to much so you’re half standing in Peter.

You decide not to do that again, but your heart breaks; you can’t even pretend to hug someone.

He tells you about his classes and work. He’s college age but after everything that happened to him and with everyone forgetting him, has to redo his general education test. You know he’s smart and doesn’t have to go to classes, but he says he wanted to make some friends there. He hasn’t so far because he’s still too sad and mostly keeps to himself, but he’ll get there eventually.

Even if he hasn’t made friends in class, he’s made a friend at his home. You will never be far.

Even though you don’t mean to, you start talking again for what feels like hours. Before it really becomes hours though, you tell him to go to sleep. He keeps interrupting himself with a yawn and the circles under his eyes are getting darker by the minute.

“I can’t sleep now. I wanna talk to you,” he says and your figurative heart swells.

“I’m not going anywhere. We can still talk tomorrow,” you smile. You reach out to caress his face but pull your hand back when you remember you can’t. You will never get used to it.

He smiles tiredly, “Okay. Will you stay here?”

Before you can answer he adds, “It-it’s obviously okay if not.”

“I’ll stay.”

He sleeps on the left side of his twin bed even though you don’t need any room. You pretend to cuddle him while he sleeps but you’re always floating a few inches too far away from him or end up floating into him.

Becoming Peter’s friend has made you the happiest you’ve been since you became a ghost, but you’ve never been sadder to not be human. To not be able to touch him, to hold his hand, to hug him.

You go outside to float in front of his window, only to find Lucky meowing on the fire escape and you’re once again reminded that you can’t pet her and can’t show her love how you want to. You wonder why she stays with you. You can’t give her food, water or shelter, and not even cuddles.

You go back inside when you hear Peter mumbling something in his sleep. He’s told you about his nightmares and you’ll wake him up if he seems upset. But you think it’s just a normal dream, so you let him sleep.

Peter takes you to the movie theatre the next day while you make yourself invisible. You’ve always thought about doing stuff like this since you’ve had the ability to get into any place unnoticed, but you knew you’d see happy families and friends and couples and would have felt like an outsider.

Now you’re not alone anymore.

“Did you have a bad dream last night? You were talking and moving a bit in your sleep.” You ask him while you walk home through dark empty alleys. You don’t have to make yourself invisible here and people won’t think he’s crazy talking to himself.

“Oh, I…” his cheeks turn red, “No, no. But I wanted to ask you something. Since you told me you just go watch people in our building sometimes. So do you, uh, do you see people having sex a lot?” He laughs shyly.

“I see more people masturbating. I never intentionally watch, but you’d be surprised just how many people do it before going to bed,” you throw him a pointed look and suddenly he seems to find the floor really interesting, “I’d never watch you on purpose, but you do it so much,” you laugh.

“Jeez, okay,” he puts his hands up in defense and looks away from you completely with an embarrassed grin.

You laugh and bump your shoulder against his, forgetting you can’t and walking through him for a second. You’re grateful he’s still not looking.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I wish I could do it. I mean, I can’t even touch myself.”

His eyes meet yours and he smiles, and his blush slowly disappears.

You can’t feel the temperature but just looking at Peter makes you cold. He could go as Rudolph for Halloween with a nose as red as that. All the trees have turned different shades of orange, red and yellow and you ask Peter to take you somewhere livelier where you can look at the change of the season in real time.

You’re invisible again when you get into the lit up streets with more people, but it’s like Peter can always tell where you are. You two don’t say much, but he smiles at you every now and then, and he’s looking right at you even though you know he can’t see you. But he can feel you.

It makes you want to cry.

You stay out well into the night even though it’s too dark to appreciate the colour on the trees. But that doesn’t matter to you. You haven’t spent time more than a block away from Peter’s building in months. Now that you have someone else to go with, it’s all different.

You can’t help but think how much more beautiful it would all be if you were a human with an actual life. If you could have more friends. If you could go out and be seen and not have to worry about people freaking out or about being hunted down if someone sees you.

But for the moment you’re also happy that you have Peter. You always will be. Maybe it was meant to be. You both lost your life, in one way or another, and found each other.

You become best friends over the next few weeks. You knew it was going to happen from the first time you talked for hours, but having a friend is even nicer than you remembered. It feels like your life is worth living again.

You’re actually doing things these days. You have things to look forward to. You have someone to talk to, someone who sees you, someone who accepts you even though, from the outside, you’re just a bit of not-quite-invisible air.

Peter sees your soul, he sees you as a person, but nevertheless he loves you just how you are, no matter how much you hate the state you have to be in forever.

He told you he loves you so early it could be considered rushed, but you couldn’t deny that you feel it too. Maybe it’s all going faster because you’re both starved for love, and for human connection. And maybe that’s okay. You’ve found a true friendship with him, and it has saved both your lives.

You’re not living how you’d wish to, but now that you have Peter, at least you can consider your existence a life. You forgot how much joy other people can bring you, and you’re lucky that Peter turned out to be one of the good ones.

Even though your life has gotten more exciting, and you’re doing more, you probably still prefer being in Peter’s one-room-apartment, just being yourself and talking for hours. You’ve known each other for months now and it feels like you could talk for all the years to come.

When it’s just the two of you, you can just be you. You don’t have to make yourself invisible, and you can’t imagine how weird it must be for Peter to be best friends with a ghost, so you appreciate him even more. Deep down you’re as human as anyone else, but you look far from it.

There are times when Peter forgets. When you’re thinking of getting food, he asks what you want, then he quickly apologises when he realises that you can’t eat, but you’re never mad at him. You still forget it yourself. You forget it even more now.

But while you love your long talks with Peter, about the most profound things, and more often the most meaningless things, what’s special about him is that you don’t have to talk. You can just be.

It’s not awkward when you’re both silent; it feels like the purest form of human connection. You just love him and he loves you. And he’s the best and most important friend you’ve ever had.

It’s not an ideal life, but for a ghost, it’s not too bad.

Peter is hesitant when he asks you to come to his job with him. You think it’s because he doesn’t want you to see what you’re missing out on - talking to people without them freaking out, having a normal life.

But you doubt you’ll be jealous of Peter having to work, plus you’ve always wondered what his workplace looks like. He started off working at a food place, but now he’s got a part-time office job that is less exhausting and pays better.

He says he doesn’t really have friends at his job, only a few colleagues that he’s friendly with, so you don’t think it will make you depressed again to see how he can talk to people when you can’t. You have Peter - a true friend - so why would you be jealous of some shallow and forced office friendships.

You’re just grateful you don’t have to sit around all day until Peter comes home. He’s taken you to class with him once, but you realised just how glad you are to be done with anything related to school and went home early.

He takes you to his work on a Friday, which he says is always the best day. Everyone’s happier because the weekend is close and Peter’s day ends a few hours earlier so he can take you to a street market around the corner after work. You won’t be able to buy anything, but you like looking.

When you’re with Peter, you always enjoy yourself.

The office isn’t far from Peter’s place, so you walk there. You make yourself invisible the first time you see another person and prepare to stay like that all day.

You’re excited to see where Peter spends hours nearly every day, but it’s nothing you didn’t expect. It’s simply an office. But he seems comfortable here and it makes you happy.

You know he’s struggled with money all his life, especially now with no financial support from anyone. Knowing that he makes enough money here to pay for his apartment and maybe even a few nice things every now and then — and it’s not even a full time job — makes you happy for him.

He shouldn’t have to work a day in his life, or at least get paid for being Spider-Man, but there are worse jobs than this, and there are apartments more expensive than his, especially in New York.

He jokes around with a few colleagues and once they’re gone he whispers their names to you. He’s told you about them before and it’s nice to finally put faces to the names. Peter smiles at you even though he can’t see you, but he’s looking right at you every time.

You get bored after the first hour and Peter tells you to do what you want, and you want to go outside.

You walk around a bit, observing people and the tiny moments of their life that you can witness. You wish you were like them.

It starts raining and you rush down the stairs into a subway station. It always feels weird when you’re walking through the rain and you can’t feel any of the raindrops.

You haven’t been at this station in ages - you had no reason to. You watch one train stop and go again, and suddenly you have the urge to go explore. You’ve never taken the time to notice what the underground tunnels look like - not on foot, anyway.

You follow the next train from one station to the next, and you follow it for two more stations. It’s exhilarating how you’re on the tracks but the train can’t hurt you. You don’t have to be scared.

You stop following the train as you take a right at a junction. A different train passes through you, and you walk through another station. At some point though, it’s all quiet. You realise that no train has passed you in twenty minutes, and you have no idea how far you’ve gone.

Suddenly, you notice how dark it is. There are no lights at all except at the end of the tunnel, but it seems so far away. You turn around to go back. You know there is nothing to be scared of. If anyone’s here, they can’t see you, they can’t hurt you.

Despite having no lungs, you feel out of breath as you rush back to where you came from - where you can see light. Your head snaps back when you hear something dripping behind you, then a few taps.

You stop in your tracks - you can’t tell where the noise is coming from. You close your eyes and count how long you think it would take for a deep breath.

When you open your eyes, the light is gone. It’s pitch black. You wish Peter was here to help you. How far from him are you? What if you won’t see him again? You don’t know how to get out of here.

You remember you can float through anything, and you can just go upwards, and you’ll end on some New York street. But when you try, you’ve suddenly lost all sense of direction. It’s like you’re underwater, deep, and no matter how far up you float, you just won’t reach the surface.

Not knowing what else to do, you keep going, anywhere. You’ll get back somehow, you have to.

Then, a door appears in front of you, light coming from behind it. You touch the handle and before you open the door, you’re in a room, sitting on a pillow.

You feel at home immediately. It’s like a spa for your brain. Comfy furniture and decorations, you can barely see the white of the walls. They’re covered in tapestry and spiritual ornaments.

Suddenly, there’s a woman in front of you, sitting on the carpeted floor. She doesn’t look human, but she’s not a ghost like you either. You’re not sure if she’s even real. She’s ethereal.

It crosses your mind for a second that you’ve overused your abilities as a ghost, and you’ve ended up in heaven after being hit by a subway train. Maybe God is sitting in front of you.

When she opens her eyes, it feels like a privilege to look into them, but when she looks right back at you, you realise you never made yourself visible again. How can she see you?

She chuckles, and it’s like an angelic whisper. “Don’t worry, you’re still disguised. It’s just me who can see you like this. It’s okay, my darling. What are you here for?”

You take a few moments to answer. “I.. I didn’t come here for anything. I was just going for a walk and then ended up here. I don’t know how.”

The woman smiles. “That’s what they all say. But no one wanders down the subway tracks if they’re happy with their life. So, what can I do for you?”

“I don’t.. understand. Who are you?”

“There is nothing to understand. You’re overthinking it. Who I am is not important. Now tell me your biggest wish, currently.”

She smiled kindly as you try to process it. The more she looks at you, the more you trust her. Against your own wish to not expose your deepest desires in front of a stranger, you answer. “I want to be human again. I want to live a normal life. With other people. And I want to be able to cry, and to feel touch.”

“Ah,” she quietly laughs to herself, “I could have guessed that myself. You see, my love, what you need is a kiss from the one you love. And it will turn you back. But you get only one try, so choose wisely. Make sure it’s the right person.”

All of a sudden, you can’t help but laugh. You get what’s going on. You’ve ended up in the den of a crackhead or a homeless person who watched too many Disney films growing up.

What are you doing, telling her about yourself?

She smiles at you warmly even after you laugh right in her face, and suddenly you feel bad. She might be out of her mind, but she seems kind.

You open your mouth, but when you blink you’re standing in front of Peter’s office building. You look around a few times. Now you feel like you’re the one out of your mind. You stand there for what feels like a few minutes, confused as anything, a little scared too.

You try to find an explanation and then remember that you’re a barely one year old ghost, and you probably still have a lot to learn. You hope it’s just that.

You forget everything that just happened when you hear Peter’s voice. He’s helplessly fumbling with the straps of his backpack, looking left and right, calling out your name when the people passing are far enough away. You have no idea how long you’ve been gone.

You go towards him and make yourself visible for a second, scaring him with a “Boo!”

He jumps and puts a hand on his chest. You become invisible again. “Oh my god, I thought I lost you. You were gone much longer than you said,” he whispers as people pass.

“Sorry, I went exploring. I would have come home eventually though. I always will.”

You don’t want to scare him, so you don’t tell him what happened. You’re with him now, so you feel safe anyway.

He smiles at you and you make your way back home together. Well, his home, you’re just a guest.

He tells you what he did at work while you were gone and when he asks what you saw when you were out, you tell him you just followed a subway around. That’s why you were gone so long, you followed it for ages and had to go back all the way.

You and Peter watch a film in the evening, but you’re not paying attention. You think back to your encounter with that woman - or whatever she was.

Her words replay in your mind and you realise for the first time what she was actually telling you.

A kiss from the one you love.

Peter.

She was telling you to kiss Peter.

It’s like suddenly something clicks within you.

You’re in love with him.

You’re in love. With Peter.

He’s literally the only person you even have: he’s the one you love.

It hasn’t occurred to you before that he’s more than a friend to you. Maybe you didn’t allow yourself to think it, because it would never work out.

But if that woman is right, you know it can work out. It all becomes as clear as glass. You’re in love with him.

You look at his face and you don’t know how you only saw a friend in him before. He laughs at the movie and the crinkles by his eyes become more prominent, and you just want to kiss them.

His mouth is open in a wide grin as he looks at you and you stare at his lips until his grin fades after a while. “What?” He licks his lips, “Not funny? You said you liked the actor last time so I thought—”

“No. It’s not that. I’m just.. tired.”

“You’re tired? I didn’t know you could be tired.”

“Well uh, no, not tired. But. I don’t know. I just can’t focus on the film right now. Aren’t you tired? You’ve had a busy week,” you suggest. You want him to go to bed, so you can think in peace.

“I am tired,” he smiles shyly, “I just didn’t want you to be bored. Didn’t wanna leave you alone for so long.”

It’s something he’s told you before. While he sleeps, you don’t. Sometimes you go out, but sometimes you stay in his apartment, right next to him. It’s weird when you spend so much time with him, but he’s asleep and it’s like he’s not actually there.

But you tell him it’s okay, and twenty minutes later he’s snoring away while you float around in his room, thinking.

You didn’t want to straight up tell him. You didn’t want to admit your crush, your love. It’s also a lot of pressure to tell him that he can turn you back into a human, fulfill your biggest dream, but only if he loves you back.

If you tell him that you like him, and he rejects you, you’ll lose your only friend. So will he. You can’t do that to yourself or to him.

But what about the woman? She seemed to know what she was talking about. She made you feel safe, once you decided to go along with the situation.

You’re a floating ghost. You have no doubt that fortune tellers could be real.

Then again, it could have just been a homeless woman who was taking drugs in the dirty underground. You have no reason to believe her. You have no reason not to believe her either though.

Maybe you’re just going insane. You teleported to Peter right after. You didn’t know you could do that. Or maybe you‘ve been wrong all this time and ghosts don’t live forever. Maybe your mind is rotting, and maybe you’re dying.

You sit down - you hover - next to Peter on the bed. He’s fast asleep, his hair all over the place. He’s curled up like a baby, and all you want to do is slip under the blanket with him and hold him.

You’ll decide that you’ll take the risk.

You won’t tell him that he could turn you human, but you’ll ask him for a kiss. If he rejects you you’ll… you don’t even want to think about how that would feel. But if he kisses you and you become human, you’ll be able to have a normal life again.

You’ll be able to kiss Peter, to hold his hand, to hug him. You’ll be able to make friends again, you’ll be able to cry, and actually feel the flutter of your heart when Peter smiles at you.

You’ve always trusted in your gut feeling, and in what’s in your heart. And right now you have hope in you. So you’ll trust in that.

By the time Peter wakes up, you’re sceptical again, and nervous. You’d much prefer to live a human life with Peter as your partner, but you couldn’t bare to ask Peter for a kiss, be rejected, and ruin your friendship. You’d be all alone again. You don’t want to risk that.

But you don’t want to be a ghost forever either - not if there’s another option.

You think for a few days, but you just can’t get the idea out of your head. You want to try it - you have to.

Peter has noticed that something’s off, and you don’t want to worry him any longer.

You’ve been trying to pay attention to how he treats you, how he looks at you - but you didn’t even realise you were in love for ages, so it’s even harder to realise if someone else is in love.

But, whether he’s in love with you or not, Peter is a kind soul. He won’t reject you in a mean way, or laugh at you if he doesn’t want to kiss you. It doesn’t mean that your friendship has to be ruined forever.

And anyway, the woman said you need a kiss from the one you love. She never said anything about him loving you back, even though that is implied. She never said anything about romantic love either though, and one thing you are sure about is that Peter at least loves you as a friend.

Today is a day where Peter is being extra adorable. His smile, his hair, the look in his eyes. They’re all perfect. He’s perfect. You just want to kiss him, regardless of if it turns you into a human or not.

You’re in his room, watching a film, but you’re barely paying attention because you’re talking all the time. You wait for a moment where no one’s talking and you’re both watching the film. You ask him to pause it.

Before you can change your mind, you say it.

“Peter, can you kiss me?” Your voice trembles at the end but his shy little smile gives you hope. He turns towards you, his cheeks turning red.

“I, I don’t know. Can I? I thought that wasn’t possible.”

“I know. But can you please try?”

“Oh. Okay.” He smiles softly and clears his throat, and then he leans in. He closes his eyes and so do you when you kiss him.

You briefly open your eyes again when nothing happens, to check if you’re close enough.

You are close enough to kiss him.

You close your eyes again and try to think of how badly you want to turn human again. Maybe you need to convince whoever is responsible for turning you back. A whine slips past your lips when nothing happens.

Peter pulls away and you open your eyes. You look down at yourself.

Still a ghost.

Nothing has changed.

“I have to go.” You don’t even look at him as you get up and leave.

Peter follows you, “No, wait. Wait.”

You make yourself invisible and he stops in his tracks. You stay there - Peter is your safe place, you have nowhere else to go. Peter calls out for you a few times, turning to see if he can find you. He usually can, it’s like he can just feel you, maybe it’s to do with his spidey senses. But this time, while he’s panicking, he can’t calm down to feel where you are.

You leave when a neighbour comes to curse at Peter for being so loud.

You hide in the cellar, where no one bothers you. You’ve never wanted to cry more than now, but you just can’t. The sensation, the urge to cry, is there, but you have no tears.

It was stupid to even think you could kiss him. You thought you’d turn into a solid human once your lips touched. All you did was make it awkward for both of you.

And you can’t believe you were dumb enough to believe that woman. You feel pathetic for letting yourself feel so much hope, all because of what a stranger on drugs said to you.

Or maybe that woman told you the truth. Maybe the woman was right, and Peter just doesn’t love you. Realising that hurts more than knowing you’ll be alone and a ghost forever.

You don’t think you can ever look Peter in the eyes again. You hate to take away the only friend he has, but after putting so much hope in him and being disappointed - you can’t just be his friend. It was unfair of you to expect him to be in love with you, but it didn’t stop you from doing it.

After staying in the basement a day and a night, and trying but failing to cry, you realise something. If the woman was right, and there is a way for you to get your life back, and the issue was just Peter’s feelings for you, or rather the lack thereof, she should also know how to end your life.

Turning back into a human would revive you, and make your existence into a life that is worth living. If she knows how to do that, she might know you can stop existing altogether. If you can’t find love, what’s the point of being here?

You’ll go along the subway tracks again, and hopefully you’ll find her.

But, even though you don’t want to see him again, you want to say goodbye to Peter. See him one last time. It’s early, so you hope he’s still asleep.

You make your way up to his floor, floating past all of the windows below his. It’s cold and it’s raining, and the sun isn’t quite up yet. You can only just see Peter through his fogged up window.

He’s asleep, but the covers are on the floor, and he’s wearing the same clothes he wore when you last saw him. You hope he’s not too sad. You know he can make other friends. Maybe even meet someone he can fall in love with. You think he’ll be okay.

You curse when a raindrop hits you right in the eye, and the noise you make wakes Peter up. You freeze when he looks right at you and gets out of bed.

“You’re back,” he beams, but you see the dark circles under his eyes.

You look down at yourself and realise you forgot to make yourself invisible. You try, it’s like an instinct at this point - you usually think about it and you become invisible. But nothing happens.

You go through Peter’s window and meet him on the other side. You haven’t seen him in a day, and you already missed being so close to him. God, not being able to hug him will be the death of you.

Peter starts stuttering about how worried he was and how glad he is to see you, meanwhile you’re still trying to make yourself invisible. Finally, you stop him. “You can see me?”

“Oh, uh,” he frowns, “Yeah?”

That’s when you realise. “Wait. Peter. Oh my god. I just felt a raindrop in my eye, when I was outside. There was a raindrop in my eye! And my back has been hurting all night, Peter. My back hurts!”

“I didn’t know your back could hurt.”

“It couldn’t, but now it does. I was sitting down in your basement for like a whole day. And now my back hurt. And I can’t make myself invisible anymore,” you’re nearly shouting now.

Peter looks at you for a few seconds as he processes what you’re saying, “Wait. Are you…”

“I think I am.”

You try to grab his hands in excitement but it doesn’t work. “Oh. And wait, I just floated right through your window. Maybe I… maybe I imagined feeling the raindrop.” You look down as your smile turns into a frown. You’ve once again let yourself get too hopeful about something you’re not sure was even real.

“Try again,” Peter says, folding his arms in front of him, “Try walking through my door.”

“What?” You ask, annoyed.

“Try to go through my door like you always do.” He turns towards his door and you sigh. You float right through the door and come back. Still a ghost. You just want to go back into the basement - you don’t even have enough energy to try and find the subway woman anymore.

“Again,” Peter says. You stare at him and he stares back until you turn around to pathetically float through his door a few times. He tells you to do it again and again but you’ve had enough. You try to float back into his apartment again but you crash against the door with a bang.

Peter comes running and opens the door, “Oh my god, are you okay?”

You don’t answer him - you have no words. You look down at yourself - still a ghost - but you just felt something you haven’t felt in years. You just touched that door, and you felt it in your whole body.

Peter has tears in his eyes now and you look at him, “Peter, what does this mean? Oh my god.”

“I don’t know. Try again,” he says.

You float right through his door about ten times until you bang against it again. This time Peter sees you, and he’s speechless for a few seconds.

“You just- I just- I saw you. As a human. It’s like you flickered to life for a second and you – you weren’t a ghost anymore,” he looks at you completely in awe and it’s like you can feel your heartbeat. You look at your body, and it’s still transparent - there’s no heart inside of you - but you’re hopeful now. And it finally feels like you actually have a reason to be.

“So- so what, should I just walk through your door over and over again until I become solid?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. I don’t think we should force it. Maybe your atoms are still learning how to be atoms again.”

You squint at him, “Thought you were supposed to be good at physics. That doesn’t sound very scientific.”

“I don’t know how much of this is science and how much is.. magic. I don’t know. Maybe we just need to be patient.”

“I can’t be patient.”

“I know, neither can I. But you’ll just hurt yourself by banging against a door ten times. Let’s just sit it out and distract ourselves and wait and see.”

He closes the door and sits on his bed, his eyes never leaving you. You blink at him.

“Peter. I can’t just sit with you here pretending that everything is fine between us and like this doesn’t determine my whole entire being and my life, and my relationship with the only living person I love.”

He looks at you in confusion, “Why does it determine our relationship?”

“You won’t want to be with me if I keep being a ghost.”

“What? Why not?”

“Are you kidding me? You can’t even kiss me. You won’t ever be able to take me on a date anywhere. I can’t even exist except in this apartment.”

“I don’t care as long as we’re together. And I won’t lie, or course it sucks that I can’t kiss you. And that I can’t hug you. But I don’t love you for physical things. I love you for who you are. I love you for things that go beyond flesh and bones and biologically being a human. Who cares about that? I’m in love with who you are in your soul, not your body.”

You can’t believe what he’s telling you. “You’d want to be with me even if I stayed a ghost?”

“Of course. Without a doubt. You think I would have fallen in love with you if it was a dealbreaker for me that you don’t have a physical body?”

That’s when you suddenly realise that you’ve just confessed your feelings for him. And he feels the same.

“You’re in love with me?” You feel your whole body flickering for a second, and from Peter’s face you can tell he saw it too.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, and you both take a step towards each other. The fact that you’re turning back into a human means the woman was right. She was real and she was telling you the truth. You found the right person and kissed him, and now you’re going to be human again.

You can’t believe it. Well, you’re still a ghost but you don’t know what else this would be.

“I’m so in love with you too,” you confess, and you’re grinning at each other so much you could cry. Maybe soon you’ll actually be able to. You can’t wait to cry again.

“Mmmmmh Peter, you better have some good distractions.”

You decide you shouldn’t go outside since you can’t make yourself invisible anymore, so you watch some movies, but you’re both too giddy to pay attention for even a single second.

By evening, you’re still a ghost, and while your hope isn’t gone, you’re starting to overthink. “What if it doesn’t work? What if I’m just imagining things because I’m hopeful? Or what if this is a weird stage between ghost and human that I’m trapped in now? And-and what if that woman was just lying to me, what if she’s cursed me or if she was a crazy woman and I’ve put my whole hope and trust in her and believed that it could turn my whole life around?”

“Wait, what woman?” Peter asks.

Oh. You weren’t going to tell him until this whole turning into a human thing has been sorted. Knowing that Peter loves you back is the only thing that matters, you thought the details could wait.

“Do you remember when you took me to your office a few weeks ago, and I disappeared for a bit? I met this woman, I don’t know if she was a human or a ghost or what, but she seemed so trustworthy and angelic, and she told me… she asked me what my biggest wish was, and I told her I want to be human again. She said I need to kiss the one I love and it will turn me back.”

His gaze turns soft and then excited. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have kissed you right then and there and you could be a human by now. Why are you still doubting that this is working? Oh my god. And I’m the one you chose. I love you.” He runs a hand through his hair and leans in to touch you, but pulls back when he realises he can’t. Not yet. But soon.

You giggle, “I love you too. But I was scared you didn’t feel the same. And I didn’t want to ruin the friendship we have. That’s why I ran away after we kissed. I thought I’d messed everything up. And I wasn’t even sure if that woman was real, so I doubted that you’d believe me.”

“Of course I would have believed you,” he smiles.

“And also… I was scared that it wouldn’t work. And we still don’t know if it worked. I mean, look at me.” You try to take his hand but your hand goes right through his.

“It will work. But you’ve been a ghost for a while now, it will take some time.”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then we’ll find a different way. I promise. And even if not, I’ll make your life worth living. Even as a ghost. I think in the end we’re all just ghosts. Some of us have flesh bodies with gross organs inside. Some of us are just a beautiful floating soul like you.”

You smile and lean in, trying to touch him again. It doesn’t work, but now that you know he loves you either way, it doesn’t matter as much. You’d still prefer a human life though.

You wake up late the next morning. All the excitement must have tired you out eventually. You turn around and see Peter still sleeping, a smile on his face.

You stare at him for a bit. At his toned biceps and the rest of his arm, all the way down to his hand that’s resting on your hip.

His hand. That is resting. On your hip.

You jump up when you look at your legs and they’re actual legs. You’re lying down in Peter’s bed. You’re not floating anymore. And you just woke up. You slept.

You’re human.

All your moving around wakes Peter up and he’s confused for the first few moments, his brain taking a while to start working.

“Peter, I have a flesh body with gross organs inside!” You sit up and jump around on the bed, waiting for him to fully wake up so you can finally finally kiss him.

His eyes go wide when he takes in your body, your human self, and he almost lunges forward to wrap his arms around you and meet your lips in a bruising kiss. You pull him as close to you as you can, pressing your lips against his, and you start to cry. You can’t believe that it’s actually happened. That you’re actually kissing Peter.

You want to kiss him for the rest of your life, but you haven’t touched anything in over a year, so feeling your body for the first time in a long time, being kissed and crying at the same time is a little overwhelming.

When you place your hand on Peter’s chest, he immediately understands what you’re asking and he pushes himself off of you, only hovering above you. His eyes are filled with tears and one of them rolls down his face and lands on your chin, and he wipes it away quickly. “Sorry,” he says quietly.

“It’s okay.” You don’t wipe away your own tears, you want to feel them on your face. The tears feel even more magical than a kiss turning you from a ghost into a human. “Peter,” you take his face between your hands and cup his cheeks, “Look. I have real tears on my face! And I can feel them., I missed them so so much.”

Peter cries with you and turns his face to kiss your hand. “You’re so beautiful. I mean, you were beautiful before but, god. It’s like I’m seeing you for the first time. Really seeing you.”

You’re about to respond when your stomach growls loudly and you both look down at it.

“You must be hungry,” Peter says, getting off of you and walking to the kitchen area, “I can, I think I can make some pancakes. Or just toast? I don’t know if your stomach will have to get used to food again first.”

You sit up and stare at him for a bit. He’s so gorgeous. You’re so glad you met him.

“I want to shower first. Haven’t showered in like a year,” you laugh, walking over to him. Peter lifts your arm and shoves his nose against your armpit, “You smell fine. You smell lovely, actually.” You scream and you giggle as you run away from him through his small but cozy apartment. If you’re honest, it smells a lot better than what you expected of such an old building. You’ve grown so fond of it, although that’s mostly because of Peter.

“Shit,” you realise, “I have to get a job now. And buy food and clothes and pay rent and find a place to live. I wanna be a ghost again,” you joke, but Peter takes your hand and gently pulls you towards him.

“I won’t let that happen. Just stay here. For now, or forever if you want. And I’ll make sure to feed you, you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

You step closer to him and grin against his face. You can see he wants to kiss you, but isn’t sure if he can in case it’s overwhelming. You give him a short kiss and ask him if you can shower. He tells you you can do whatever you want and to tell him if you need anything - including alone time without him. But for now, you just need a shower.

When you come out of the bathroom, Peter has bought new clothes for you. You’re in the clothes you died in, so you’d rather wear anything else, but the clothes Peter bought are quite nice and fit perfectly. He says he just ran to that thrift store around the corner and got you loads of clothes for less than twenty dollars. You always wanted to go there with him. Now you can.

You can do whatever you want with Peter, wherever you want. You can meet new people and make new friends. And you can live a human life.

Peter makes breakfast for you and you spend the rest of the day lying in bed with him, occasionally holding hands or kissing for a second, but making out or even cuddling is still overstimulating. You know you’ll get there soon and you can’t wait until you do so you can physically show Peter just how much you love him, but for now being brought back to life is already making you feel enough things.

You nearly forget that you have to sleep again now. That’s until you yawn and you realise how exhausted you are. Peter tells you to go to sleep and he’ll look after you.

You fall asleep holding his hand.

The next day, Peter has to go back to work, so you spend some time alone.

You touch yourself all over your body, just feeling yourself.

You’re much more used to touch now than you were yesterday, so your hand sneaks down between your thighs, giving yourself the best orgasm of your life.

It’s just you and your body, making love to yourself.

You go for a long walk, enjoying every aspect of it. You don’t have a winter coat so you just take a blanket with you. You hardly even stand out for New York’s standards.

The colourful leaves have all fallen by now and you missed being able to step on the crunchy ones. You missed feeling the wind on your face and how your nose gets all cold in the late autumn air.

You kiss Peter for longer than ever before when he comes home from work, and then you hug him for about ten minutes. And then you kiss him again.

He takes you grocery shopping so he can cook you your favourite meals and he can learn what you like.

You’re in the fruit aisle, asking him which apples to get, and you realise he’s not listening to you, just staring. “What?“ You start grinning at his lovesick expression.

“Nothing. I just love you so much. I mean, look at you.” He twirls you around and doesn’t let go of your hand, “You’re so.. alive,” you both laugh, but you know what he means, “You’re so vibrant. And full of life. You were beautiful before but now? Wow. Like. Oh my fucking god.”

You let him stare and just get the apples that look the best to you.

You’re walking through the streets hand-in-hand a while later. You’re on your way home, enjoying life and enjoying that you can touch Peter and that you can walk outside without having to make yourself invisible.

“The one thing I didn’t miss is how bad this city smells sometimes,” you scrunch up your nose and Peter kisses it. You chase the smell of him when he pulls back, burying your nose against his neck, humming, “Mmh, you smell good though.”

“You smell better,” he grins and kisses your lips, his cold, red nose brushing up against your cheek.

While Peter unlocks the front door to your building, you hear an unmistakable meow from behind you. Lucky. You haven’t seen her in weeks. You were worried something happened to her.

You crouch down in front of her, reaching out your hand. She immediately pushes her head against your palm, asking you to pet her.

You don’t know how - because you didn’t have a smell when you were a ghost - but she recognises you. She knows you. And you finally get to feel her soft fur and make her purr for as long as she wants to.

You don’t dare ask Peter - it’s technically only his apartment and you don’t even know if pets are allowed in the building. “Just take her,” he playfully rolls his eyes and holds the door open for you and Lucky. You’ll let her go out whenever she wants, but if she can’t be bothered catching mice or needs a warm place to stay or to get a cuddle, you want to be there for her. She got you through some rough times.

You and Peter end up cooking together - it’s much more fun like that. Lucky is snoring on your bed, but she’s on Peter’s side, so you leave her there. Lucky stays out most of the time, but you see her every few days, and always welcome her in.

You get yourself a pretty winter coat in a small shop not far from your and Peter’s place, and you notice a sign saying they’re hiring. The manager is beyond kind and it’s only a few hours a week, and you get the job. You don’t really need it while you’re living with Peter in his apartment, but you need something to do and now you and Peter really don’t have to worry about paying rent each month.

You pick Peter up from work that day in your new, pretty coat and it starts snowing. It’s the first snow of the year. Peter tells you how sad and depressed he was last winter and how happy he is now. You tell him how sad and depressed you were last winter and how happy you are now.

You were both so lonely. So lost. With an existence you could barely call a life. And you found each other, and it changed everything. He’s your person. And you’re his.

Peter takes you to meet some colleagues outside of work for the first time and you invite a neighbour you were talking to the other day in your building’s laundry room. You can already see her becoming a new friend, and afterwards Peter tells you how well he gets along with one of his colleagues. It’s a good day.

By now, you’re completely used to all touch and sensation. You can kiss Peter for as long as you want without feeling overwhelmed, and you keep wanting more and more.

Your watching a film one Friday night turns into nothing but kissing. Kissing kissing kissing. It’s not enough though, and you pull Peter’s hoodie off over his head.

“I need you,” you softly say into his ear and he grins.

“You sure?”

“I’m so sure, Peter, please.” You’ve been thinking about having sex with Peter for months now, so now that you’re finally ready, you’re ready.

He smiles at you and leans down to kiss your neck, his hand slipping under the hem of your shirt, fingers slowly sliding up your belly.

It’s torture how light his touch is, so you pull off the shirt you’re wearing, leaving you only in your panties.

Peter licks his lips as he looks at you and slowly lowers his face to your chest, kissing between your breasts and then gently taking one of your nipples into his mouth.

You grab onto his hair and sigh in pleasure, his hands making their way up your sides, but soon you’re hungry for more. Your fingers glide down his chest, past his abs, and find his hard cock beneath his sweatpants.

He stops what he’s doing and moans, pressing his head against your shoulder as you begin to tease him with featherlight touch over his briefs. “Fuck,” he groans, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

The pleasure written all over his features makes you stop what you’re doing. You lift your legs to push your panties down your legs. You’re trying to get Peter’s pants off too but he sits up to spread your legs and sit between them.

Your cheeks heat up as he spreads your lips to look at your pussy, and he shyly tells you how pretty you are. You can feel his breath on your skin and you’re getting wetter by the second.

“Is this okay?” He asks, pressing his lips against your inner thighs with a wet mouth.

“Yes, fuck, more than okay.”

Then his mouth is finally on your clit, and you gasp when you first feel his wet tongue on your pussy. You tell him what to do and he quickly gets the hang of it, his eyes focussing on your face to see what you like most.

He slowly and gently plays with your pussy until you cum all over his face with a cry of his name, and then he doesn’t stop until you cum another time. By your second orgasm, you’re grabbing his hair and grinding your pussy against his face, begging him to get inside of you.

He stands up to get the condom but when you see the bulge in his sweatpants, you want him in your mouth.

You sit up to kneel at the edge of the bed, next to where he’s standing. You touch him over his pants and look up at him with angel eyes. “Can I?”

“Fuck. Of course.” He drops the condoms when you pull down his sweats and wrap your hand around his hard cock.

You’re looking up at him as you take your time with him, tracing his length with wet lips, gently licking his balls, and then you wrap your lips around the head of his cock. You take him deeper each time, slowly moving your head up and down, your spit dripping down him.

He opens his mouth, and nothing but a desperate moan comes out, making you suck his dick faster. You grab his thigh to steady yourself, hollowing your cheeks every time you take him deeper into your mouth.

Seeing him all worked up, gasping and moaning, is making you so wet and desperate, but you can’t stop - you don’t want to. You can hear how close he is by how short his breaths are and how broken his voice sounds.

“Fuck– fuck,” he groans, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, and then he puts a hand on your cheek, making you stop.

“I wanna be inside of you now. I need to–” he takes off his pants and puts on the condom while you lie back down, spreading your legs. Peter stops when he gets back on the bed and presses a kiss onto your clit, taking a second to taste you again.

“Peter…” your whimper, making his head snap towards your face.

“Okay, yes, okay,” he quickly positions himself between your legs, lining himself up with you, “You sure?”

“Yes, oh my god, Peter. Just fuck me.”

He grins and kisses you as he slowly pushes into you. You wrap your arms around him and hold him as close to you as you can. You stop kissing him back - you feel too good to do anything.

All the desperation is gone, it’s just you and him now, taking your time. The rest of the world doesn’t exist. Only Peter does.

He looks into your eyes as he thrusts into you, as deep as he can, and you wrap your legs around his waist, so you’re spread out even more for him. “I love you,” he breathes.

“I love you,” you say, pulling him even closer. You search for his hand and he brings it up to your face. You open your mouth so he can push a finger past your lips, and you hum as you suck his finger into your mouth. The only sounds you can hear are Peter’s breaths, him sliding into your wet pussy, and your wet lips around his finger.

You’re still looking right into his eyes, and he doesn’t look away. You chase his finger with your mouth when he pulls it away, but he quickly soothes you with a deep kiss.

“You wanna cum for me?” He asks, bringing his thumb between your legs to rub your clit. He’s holding himself up with his forearm, still fucking you while he touches your clit.

You never knew how strong he was. But now that he’s on top of you, so desperate and so close, his big biceps right next to your face, he’s still doing everything he can to make you feel good - no weakness in sight.

You feel your orgasm approaching, and press your lips against his. “Fuck, so good for me, so pretty,” he whispers against your mouth, keeping the rhythm steady against your clit.

The waves of your orgasm flood you with pleasure and spread through your whole body. You arch up into him, pressing your chest against his. Your pussy squeezes him so tight that he cums with you, moaning into your mouth, short thrusts into your pussy until you’re both coming down from your highs.

You stay wrapped in each other for a while, his forehead pressed against yours. You’re breathing each other, pressing kisses onto each other’s faces.

“I love you,” he says, still out of breath.

You grin at him and put your hand on his cheek as you kiss him, “I love you too.”

You’re walking down the streets of a holiday-themed market a few weeks later, a hot drink in one hand, your other one intertwined with Peter’s, snowflakes flying through the air.

He’s showing you a cute holiday bauble when you see the reflection of someone you know in it. Your quickly turn around and then you see the woman. The woman who told you how to become human.

She’s standing far away, but you can see her clearly. She smiles at you and you beam back at her. You want to walk towards her to thank her, but something tells you to stay right where you are.

“I knew you’d make the right choice,” she smiles warmly, and then she vanishes into thin air. You grin.

You look at Peter and his adorable face for a few seconds. Then you grab him to kiss him, and he kisses you back with so much love.

She’s right. You made the right choice.

☆.｡.:*support a writer and reblog or send an ask if you enjoyed, it helps out a lot.｡.:*☆

#peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x you #peter parker friends to lovers #ghost!reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker #Spiderman smut #Spiderman x reader #fem!reader #tom holland #peter parker halloween fic #halloween

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inklore · 2 years

Text

spellblind

premise: there’s a long list of reasons why peter should ignore the dark thoughts in his head, but none of those reasons gets him you.

pairing: dark!peter parker x bestfriend!reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: eighteen+ content, noncon, this is dark as hell so please mind the tags babes, hypnotism, unprotected p in v, creampie, au since spider man don’t got hypno powers but also this is set after no way home, slight obsessed!peter, one sided love, oral sex, marking, mentions of captivity.

etc: this is my first time writing for mcu!peter and i made it dark and messed up, this is shocking to no one lmaosjsj.

kinktober 04 | kinktober masterlist

There’s a part of Peter that knows this is wrong—a section of his brain that is waving red flags and flashing lights telling him to stop, to not let anything go as far as where the dark recesses of his mind are tempting him to.

He’s Peter Parker. The friendly neighborhood spider-man, he should know better—does know better. Was taught right from wrong and always does the right thing. Always stays on that path of golden behavior even when it lands him with blood and bruises, or flat on the concrete.

He’s always playing the good guy; is the good guy, the best guy. This doesn’t make him a bad guy, the worst guy…he didn’t even mean for it to happen. This hadn’t been his intention when he had asked you over tonight.

A simple movie date with his best friend turning into something else entirely.

Something out of his control.

And it wasn’t really his fault. His powers were ever changing, new things being discovered, his body mutating and becoming more insect than man.

Simple interests becoming urges. Simple thoughts and kind acts finished with an ‘but what do I get in return, shouldn’t I be rewarded for saving lives?’ In those newly dark parts of his mind.

He had thought it was just exhaustion. Saving the city, getting his G.E.D and trying to make money to stay in a cheap apartment was easier envisioned than exercised.

He had thought these new dark feelings were nothing a drink at the bar a couple of blocks down, or hanging out with you—his only friend and neighbor—couldn’t fix.

But now he’s realizing that was furthest from the truth, as those dark thoughts have his knee bouncing, fingers tingling for all the wrong reasons; to reach out and touch parts of you he’s only dreamt about. Fantasized about late at night.

One minute you were looking into his eyes laughing at the rom com on his cheap tv, and the next you were still as a board, expression slack, unresponsive. Body compliant as Peter easily shook you to get you to come too.

It was as if you were hypnotized.

As if his thought—as the two of you held eye contact—dark and bitter had manifested itself into his eyes going dark, mind buzzing. Peter coming to to you in this state.

A state that sends him in a panic; until it doesn’t.

Until the dark thoughts win and he’s thinking perverse thoughts that make his cheeks burn hot and cock grow hard against his jeans. Thoughts he shouldn’t be having, shouldn’t be entertaining.

But he’s wanted you for so long.

Longed for you even longer; watching you through his peephole when he was too scared to say hi, cheesy jokes exchanged as the two of you got your mail, both elements soon forming into a tight friendship he doesn’t know what he would do without. He’s already lost so much.

There had been many times he could have confessed his feelings, professed his crush that quickly turned into something stronger—something aching and dreadful each time you didn’t see it. Didn’t get the hint. Ignored all the signs. Dated other people; guys who were no good and only hurt you.

Peter would never hurt you.

He’d treat you the way you deserved to be treated: like a damn goddess.

If only you’d give him a chance.

But maybe he was done waiting. Waiting for something that may never come. Maybe this was his only way of having you. Maybe this was a sign that he should at least know what it’s like to be with you, this way, any way.

Peter tries to make a con list in his head. A list of why he shouldn’t be thinking like this—why he shouldn’t do this.

He really tries to ignore those dark thoughts, fighting tooth and nail against his mind….but you look so pretty in that dress, the dip in the summer fabric showing just the right amount of cleavage.

And it’s like a moth to a flame because the next thing he knows his palm his cupping you. The pad of his thumb running over your nipple, his eyes flashing to yours to see if you react but there’s nothing. No signal or indication that lets him know you’re coherent.

It should stop him, but it does the opposite.

As he pulls down the top of your dress, your bra going with it. Putting your chest on full display to him. A hard swallow bobbing his throat as he stares, mouth watering. Jaw ticking in want, driving him to lean forward and wrap his lips around your nipple. To moan and suck and bite at the sensitive flesh, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as he kneads your other breast with his palm. Switching back and forth between the two.

Your skin feeling so soft and delicate against his tongue.

He leaves stray kisses and saliva covered bruises along them. Doesn’t care that you’ll come too later and see them. He wants you to see them, to wonder, to think that they could be from him.

The thought of you walking around carrying marks from him making his cock throb even more; to the point of pain.

That’s why he lays you down on the couch. That’s why he pulls your dress up, why he presses his nose to your underwear and inhales, runs his tongue against the outside of them. Hooks a finger in them and pulls them to the side to reveal your pussy.

A hungry noise hitting the back of his throat when he dives into you, letting his mouth and tongue eat you out with vigor. Memorizing the way you feel against him, the way you taste, the way he groans each time he swallows you down.

When he feels your entrance clench around the tip of his tongue, he has to move back from your body, has to make sure you’re still out of it.

Smirking with the knowledge that he can still make your body come like this. That the two of you can still be connected this way, even with you in this state. Your body still gives yourself over to him. Still opens for him when he pushes his fingers inside of you, your walls quivering around them.

He could get addicted to this. To having his mouth on your pussy, to finger fucking you hard as he runs his throbbing cock against the seam of his jeans, as he makes you come without you even stirring.

And as Peter sits up, as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, staring down at your body; open legs, thighs covered in your own wetness, underwear thrown to the side, dress pushed up and pulled down, your boobs still on display for him—how could he not fuck you?

He has to. Needs to.

Thinks he might go insane if he doesn’t. If he doesn’t live out his fantasies and finally know what you feel like. Finally fuck you instead of his fist.

So with hesitation still the farthest from his being, he makes quick work with unbutton his pants, pulling himself out and giving himself a few deft strokes before he lets the tip of his cock run through your lips. Mouth hung open at how beautiful the sound is.

A gasp torn from his lungs when he finally pushes inside of you, when your warmth finally engulfs him.

“Oh my god,” you’re so tight, so warm, so wet. He can barely stand it. Can barely catch his breath as he presses his face into your neck, trying to breathe. Trying to not come inside of you so soon. How can something feel this good?

How can something look this beautiful with his cock inside of it and it be wrong?

It can’t. It just can’t.

With his fingers digging into the couch cushion, breaths heavy and groans tumbling from them; he starts to move. Can’t restraint himself from setting a hard rhythm of his hips slapping the insides of your thighs as he fucks you. Your tits bouncing against his chest, body perfect and pliant against him.

“You feel so good, oh my–“ Peter whimpers. Presses his mouth to yours, finally kissing you after all these years. Finally pushing his tongue inside of your mouth, moaning against it, taking another part of you. Making it his. Marking you with bites left on your lower lip, and sucks on the side of your neck.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he’s chanting. As if you can hear him, as if you’ll ever know he’s fucking you. Losing complete control inside of you, your walls gripping him so deliciously he wants to scream. Wants to fill every one of your holes. To not let you leave his apartment until you’re dripping his come from all of them; until you’re stretched and raw from him going so many rounds with your comatose body. “Forgive me.” He kisses your lips, runs his tongue along yours, “I love you, I need it–couldn’t control it. It’s,” he swallows, “it’s too good.”

He wants to hold off longer. To keep fucking you until his cock is raw, but he’s coming before he knows it.

A strangled sob against your cheek as he fills you up. As he continues slow languid thrusts even after he’s spent, the sensitivity only adding to the darkness of the weight of what he just did. The squelch of his come and your wetness louder than his heavy breaths.

Once his breath finally goes back to normal, once his thrusts stop, he pushes himself up to look down at you; to see his come leaking from your pussy and staining his couch. Your chest and neck marred by him, lip having the smallest of cuts on it from how hard he bit you in his lust fueled fury.

You look just as beautiful as ever, if not more now that there’s remnants of him inside and outside of you.

He got what he needed. Finally fucked his best friend, finally showed you how much he loves you.

But…his cock is still hard, and you’re still unresponsive.

There’s no reason why he shouldn’t get his fill of you. You have two other holes that need his attention.

Maybe he’ll keep you like this. That way you can be his forever.

#dark!peter parker #mcu!peter parker smut #mcu!peter parker x reader #mcu!peter x reader #peter parker smut #mcu!peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #tw noncon #kinktober #kinktober 2022

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little-cereal-draws · 2 years

Text

Details I noticed on my second and third rewatches of Werewolf By Night

Jack reached out to touch the bloodstone as soon as he got to the funeral. If he hadn't been interrupted, he would've blown his cover immediately and been killed, let alone doing anything to save Ted. He's such an idiot (affectionate)

When he's talking with that Scottish hunter in the beginning, he says, “I can almost smell the blood on your hands.” Foreshadowing much?

What happened to Elsa’s mom? They imply it's something 'terrible'/dishonorable but they never say

When they're all being introduced in the circle and listing how many kills they have, when it comes to Jack the line is “And over 100 deaths. Give it take.” I thought it was interesting how they suddenly used deaths vs kills (especially because Jack probably told them that. Let the angst begin lol)

It says "This end up on coffin" lol

Jack chews on his lip during Ulysses’ speech about the strongest hunters gathering and the crusade against monsters. It's so very subtle but you can see he's nervous

Jack looks scared and concerned when they get told the stone would be put on the monster. It's a split second but his eyes get wide and he goes :o

The set is actually amazing, especially the garden maze

In the tomb Jack gets the most brilliant smile when he says he's "not that kind of hunter" and Elsa says she’s not either. He probably thought she was secretly some kind of monster too for a second because his face literally looks like when a dog sees another dog or when a queer person sees another queer person in public. Like "Hello!! You're like me?? Like me??? Hello! Hi!!"

When talking with Elsa about families, Jack says, “My family was very different.” Why does he say "was???" What happened to his family??? (Another opportunity for angst lol)

In that same conversation, Jack also says, “We think that by doing something specific we cannot be like them.” Why does he want to be different than his family? What specific thing did he do? I need more backstory!!

All the bugs and spiders crawling out of Aunt Frances' tomb was a very nice touch lol

Laura Donnelly's (Elsa’s) acting. She's trembling. She genuinely looks terrified but like she’s making herself be brave anyway. The single tear that rolls down her cheek right before he turns and how she just nods at his apology because she can't trust herself to speak? The way she's made herself as small as possible and is partly covering her head in fear but can't look away as they shoot him? The way her breath keeps hitching because she has no idea if she's going to die or not as she reaches out to touch his face at the end? It's so much more genuine and realistic than other MCU acting I feel. Like ofc the other actors in other projects are talented but I don't feel like they get scared often or get scared in a realistic way. Like if I was trapped in a cage with an angry werewolf, I also would be curled up on the floor crying. 10000/10

Before he turns, Jack says he has “systems” in place to stop himself from turning or at least calm it down. Besides locking himself inside, what are his systems?? I want to know!!!

When Elsa asks if remembering people's scents have ever worked before, Jack immediately shakes his head. Almost as an afterthought, he says “Once.” Who was it??? Why is he still so sad if it worked?? Did they die immediately anyway for some other reason??? Did he not recognize their scent until it was too late??? I NEED BACKSTORY! (and more angst)

When Jack asks to be killed as he is "or there will be no mercy," the old lady, who's name I can't remember, says, “Our system is built on mercy for you.” She genuinely seems to believe it for a second before bursting out laughing and going back to being evil. The story is told from the perspective of those against the hunters, but I want to know what the thought process/justification of the hunters is! Ofc they're doing it to protect innocent people from dying (like they mention) and there is certainly an element of personal gain/ego in it but how do they believe they're having mercy on the monsters themselves? What's the ideology behind it all?

In werewolf form, Jack's eyes glow in the dark but when you get up close, they look like human eyes

The blood on the camera. Such a cool touch

A list of things Ted had at their camp: Two suitcases (one with clothes in it), a sunflower mug, a deck of cards, a cowbell (why is there a cowbell??? lol), a gramophone, a guitar, just the phone part of a phone booth (again, what???), a blanket, and a fire extinguisher

Jack uses both hands to hold the sunflower mug because he's so shaky and tired, he would drop it otherwise

The groans Jack makes as he stands up lol That is also how I sound when I stand up

Jack and Ted's banter on the log. It doesn't matter if you don't know what they're saying, you can instantly tell they're best friends. The way they're laughing and pushing each other and how quickly it switches into annoyance. ...Which only lasts a couple seconds before they're chummy again. True friend conversation

Ted's eyes are really cute in color. His pupils are little star/flower shapes

#rewatch #marvel #mcu #wwbn #werewolf by night #jack russell #elsa bloodstone #ted manthing #man thing #gael garcia bernal #laura donnelly

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percheduphere · 6 months

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I’m a new follower and wanted to say that I really enjoy reading your Lokius content. They are really well thought out and written. I was wondering if you have any headcanons on Loki’s time in Asgard like his relationships, any events you think could’ve happened, etc.

Hi Anon!

Sorry for the late reply and thank you for your patience. I have several headcanons about Loki's Asgardian relationships based on comics canon and MCU canon.

I'm going to focus on characters outside of Thor, Odin, and Frigga, as I believe those relationships have been discussed at length by many other fans.

FANDRAL - Back in 2014/2015, I used to ship them together romantically. I'd like to think I added some depth to his character, but the truth is the canon leaves much to be desired with ONE exception. Comics canon reveals that Fandral fell into a portal that landed him in medieval Midgard where he became Robin Hood, married Maid Marion, stayed with her despite her aging while he remained young, mourned her death, and couldn't have a serious romantic affair since. I used this to flesh him out and create a healthier relationship with Loki, but I digress. I think at the very least, Loki and Fandral slept together, perhaps on more than one occasion. At the very least, they are somewhat friendly with each other. Loki saves his life in Thor 1 by throwing a dagger at a Jotun that's about to attack him; Fandral's the least hostile to Loki of the Warriors Three and Sif; in comics canon, he's the smartest/most cunning of the Warriors Three; he is the only character among Thor's closest friends to not threaten to kill Loki upon their encounter in Thor 2, and quite simply their temperaments when it comes to style, pleasure, and poetics are compatible. I think they suit each other quite well and could have made a good couple canonically if not for the fact that they are both flighty when it comes serious relationships (both due to trauma, if you take Fandral's Robin Hood backstory seriously). At any rate, Mobius surpasses him in many ways and is a wonderful character in his own right, for which I am eternally grateful.

SIF - While I don't think Loki hates Sif, I feel the same cannot be said about Sif for Loki. In Norse mythology, Loki cuts Sif's hair as a prank and is forced by Thor to magically create for Sif hair of gold. In the comics canon, Sif's hair was originally gold and Loki cutting it resulted in it turning dark brown or black. In multiple iterations of the comics canon, Loki's motivation has near-consistently been his jealousy of his brother's attention for her. Now, Sif in the MCU versus Sif in comics reads as a "girl friend" as opposed to a "girlfriend". However, Sif has a strong sense of honor and integrity, neither of which she is willing to compromise. I therefore see her constantly clashing with Loki's morally gray (at best) and outright malicious (at worst) intentions. The most traumatic comics canon experience Sif has been through with Loki was his taking over her body to become Lady Loki. That trauma left her completely untrusting of Loki's motivations even after he is reborn in the Journey into Mystery/Agent of Asgard/God of Stories arcs, despite Thor, Fandral, and Volstagg's advocating for Loki's innocence as a child. They may have been friends as children, but that friendship has long been broken. Whenever they are in the same room, it is tense.

HEIMDALL - Through the Bifrost, he is a near-omniscient guardian being who is significantly older than Thor and his peers. For this reason, I think Heimdall is generally neutral towards Loki's behavior, having witnessed all sorts of behavior throughout the Nine Realms. That said, his friendship with Thor creates a strong sense of protectiveness for him and wariness towards Loki by Thor 2. I was of the belief that Heimdall is the most serious of Thor's friends and that his regard toward Loki was not too afar from the Warrior's Three. However, the Loki series suggests he has a playful side, at least when Thor and Loki were younger. I think he may have humored Loki's antics as he had Thor's, like an uncle who indulges his nephews with an air of amusement, mild exasperation, and reserved affection. I also think he appreciated Loki's intelligence. It is a lonely duty to guard the Bifrost. I think Loki's visits and conversations lifted his spirits from time to time. Unfortunately, Odin's penchant for war and conquest, his political machinations, his deceit, his manipulation, and his favoritism toward Thor all come to a head.

VOLSTAGG - Not much is shown about Volstagg. I can say he is the oldest of Thor's friends and the only father among them. He detests Loki's cunning, and Loki detests him for his boorishness. Their archetypes are the classic "jock's best friend" and "dramatic bookworm." I don't doubt they quarreled a lot when they were younger, if Thor 1 was any indication, and that they secretly enjoyed those quarrels as much as they were annoyed by them. Like the rest of Thor's friends, lines were drawn after Thor 1 and Avengers. However, in comics canon, Volstagg defends the reborn Loki, as a child, in Journey into Mystery. Volstagg has many children with his wife and loves children generally. He provided kid!Loki with warmth, protection, and affection when many refused to give him a chance. I think God of Stories Loki would have respect and even some fondess for Volstagg because Volstagg shares some of Mobius's quirks: his love of food, his a soft spot for the small and helpless, and his exceptional devotion to his spouse (in Mobius's case, his partnership with Loki rather than his wife).

HOGUN - Hogun is the most difficult character for me to get a read on because he is just as quiet in comics canon as, if not more so, MCU canon. I can say he and Sif are likely close in personality. In my opinion, they therefore would be best friends with one another after Thor. His doubt of Loki and anger towards him come across as more muted (still waters run deep) than the others, but that does not mean it is any less passionate. He is also the toughest of the Warriors Three, the last to die in Ragnarok. In their youth, I can see him putting Loki at a distance, carefully observing him, but actively not engaging with him unless absolutely necessary.

#anon asks #asks #loki #fandral #sif #heimdall #hogun #dashingfrost #loki headcanons #my headcanons #loki meta #my meta #loki analysis #my analysis #marvel comics canon #volstagg #lokius

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marvelmaniac2000 · 5 months

Text

Summary: Loki finally catches you time slipping after you guys break up. Little does he know the different lives you guys could have shared.

Characters: Loki x (Reader (Y/N) Mobius, Sylvie

Subject: Fingering, foreplay, french kissing, angst reader, dominant Loki, makeup sex, Loki season 2 (non spoiler smut) , 18+ ONLY,

Intercourse, doggy style, slow burn emotional sex,

Words:1.4k

(I wish I could watch Loki again for the first time. I love the aesthetic. It’s probably the only MCU show I’m able to keep up with at the moment. Everything else is not on my agenda lately to be written about.) Wrote this late at night tired af 🤡

You TemPad back into the TVA with burning red eyes trying to hold back the tears. There was nothing in your mind that mattered but some sheer solitude away from loki. He completely messed up your life. He was just a regular variant that needed to be controlled. What made him seem like he was any different from the rest? Maybe you were the weaker link in the TVA that he was able to manipulate the most.

You stood in the middle of the TVA main monitor before striding down the hall toward a vacant interrogation room. You slumped down in the chair and exhaled. Loki was under Mobius' responsibility and couldn’t run off without knowing his where abouts at all times. This was your chance to disconnect from whatever was happening. Mobius warned you many times before to stay away from him but you couldn’t help wondering what made this man think he was different from the rest of the variants at the TVA. Every flirtatious moment, slight touch and seductive gazed sent major shivers down your spine when he was even near you. Loki was helping you guys track down the unknown variant but little did you know that the same viarant apparently named “Sylvie” was something of his own new desire.

You heard a slight presence from somewhere in the dark room. “I told you, didn't I? Mobius lingered from behind. “Please leave me alone in my own thoughts for a second before you rub it in my face” “Nahhh I think this is all too good of a moment to pass up” Mobius slid his hands in his pockets. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, just think about it for a sec…the guy fell for a female version of himself.. That isn’t someone worth gloating about... trust me” Mobius stood across from the table. “Well you know you can't help who you fall in love with” you whispered. “That doesn’t exist here. You had a job to do, and you preferred to be selfish and cause more timelines to branch out. I hope you’re happy”

“You and I both know that wasn’t the plan” you retorted.

“None of this was (Y/N)!.. “ He scoffed. Now you are a part of a case that I do not want my own friend involved in. It just became personal and more difficult, so I hope I won’t have to prune you.”

“Don’t worry. you won’t” you flipped your TemPad open and vanished.

.............................

“I care about you Sylvie and quite honestly I did at one point wanted to be with you but I don’t really like you in that way .” Loki reached out for Sylvie sitting down. “Look it doesn’t not matter what I think, the TVA is in complete shambles and that’s really the only thing that makes me happy at the moment.”

Loki looked up at Sylvie’s face and noticed a glimpse of hurt. “I think you’re a pain in the ass,” he chuckled. “Why? You got what you wanted but do you realize it won’t include you if there isn't a timeline to begin with?”

Sylvie slid down off of the truck. “ I meant every last word. Now excuse me, I’ll like to enjoy my peace.” With a brush against Loki’s shoulder, Sylvie walked back into the restaurant.

Loki pinched his nose. His patience was running thin with everyone. For the love of god, he loved both you and Sylvie but only he couldn’t go back to the godly way of juggling several women at once. All he could think about was you right now and being wrapped up in your sheer company. Maybe he should just let Sylvie be alone for a while, he was sure she would be okay for the “time” being. First, he needed to find you and make sure you were not going to disappear from the end of time.

The gentle breeze swept your face as you inhaled the beautiful air from outside. You watched from across the street an amazing white picket fence house with a red truck parked right outside the garage. You moved your hands in your pocket and watched your variant self with a yoga mat and gigantic hand bag in the other. Also resting between your ear and shoulder was your phone talking extremely loud to whatever person there was. Just look at you, you did a sly smile to yourself and felt the sheer joy of seeing not only a different version of yourself but the most regular you but with Loki in it too. There he went trying to walk to the mailbox looking at maybe letters? Bills? Who knows. But it made you happy. Your variant self drove off in a hurry and waved Loki bye in the process. You wondered what it would be like to meet this version of him. Would he still look at you the same? Touch you? Or would he come off as a weird delusional variant? It wouldn’t hurt to try to see. Before you could take another step closer a strong arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you into another dimension.

You lunged toward an unknown bedroom. You turned to meet Loki’s gaze staring right at you.

“Why?’ That’s all you could spit out. “I’m pretty sure I’m the last person you need to talk to save the universe? Am I not correct?”

“Listen, I can explain” Loki gently closed the gap between you too. “I don’t need to hear your lies” you didn’t even want to look at his face.

“(Y/N) please I love you” he took your hands into his and gave you those big pleading eyes.

“What about Sylvie? Isn’t she more important?” You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Just a friend my dearest” he brushed your hot cheek with his thumb. Oh how much you missed his touch.

“I’ll prove it to you” he slowly pressed his lips against yours. You moan into his mouth and let him take the lead. “I’ve always loved you and only you” he kissed the crook of your neck and sucked on the area that made you squirm. Your hands roamed between his loose strands of raven black hair. You gasped, making your grip harder around his shoulders. You backed away and slipped off your TVA jacket and pulled your shirt off.

“May I?” Loki gestured toward your pants and gently undid your buttons. He locked his lips onto yours wanting access with his tongue. You hummed letting him dance around your mouth. His hands pulled your pants down leaving you with nothing but bare lace panties. Loki let fingers slip into your bare wetness. You bite your lip watching him dance his fingers around your clit in slow strokes.

“Oh how much I’ve wanted to pleasure you” Loki soft fingers builded up the milky white wetness of your flower while you cry out in moans into his ear.

“Loki” you whispered, grinding your hips to his hand. His pace quickened while he devoured your neck with his wet tongue. Your fingers scratched his jacket wanting more of him inside.

“Please” you breathed. Loki pulled his fingers away and sucked his fingers clean of your juices.

“Lay down” he gently gestured you toward the bed.

“I want you on your hands and knees dear” You do as you were told and kneel with your bare ass in the air. You hear the sound of a belt buckle before Loki adjusted your hips toward his entrance. You gently hitched your breath feeling him tease his tip inside your wet dripping folds.

“Are you ready my love?” he bent over nibbling at your ear. Moaning while you feel him fill you up.

‘Y-yes” you breathed. Loki smirked, ready to make you his.

<<<<< Likes, reblogs, requests, or comments >>>>> let me know

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romanestuffsposts · 1 year

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Hi!! Idk if it's been done before but🥹 how about daddy!stucky x little reader, where another daddy tries to discipline her; possibly a behavior that stucky lets her do, such as reasoning? like they want her to be heard at all times, and kind of like let her explain herself, so when she tries to explain a like an accident the other guy thinks she's being smart and tries to punish her like she's their little?? I just know they would go feralllll😭😭

Hi there love! 💜

Thank you for the request, I love the idea!

I Hope you like how I turned it ❤️

****

Warnings : cries, yell, violence, aggression, stranger, abused, bruises, reassurance, cuddles, comfort, fluff, kisses, mention of reader peeing on herself, paci, bottle of warm milk, stuffie

Pairings : daddies!stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little! reader + another daddy!stranger (not the character from MCU)

Summary : What can goes wrong when you're at the mall with your daddies telling them a funny story that happened at work ?

A/N : Part 2 for the man's punishment maybe ? Let me know lovers

****

You love the mall, sometimes it’s calm and cosy because there isn’t so many people and other time it’s all noisy but when it came to the mall you don’t really care. Usually you hate when there’s too much noise, it give you anxiety and you feel overwhelmed by everything that happen around you. Maybe you don’t feel that way at the mall because it’s a big building so there’s enough room for many people which means it doesn’t seems that noisy.

That’s why you didn’t chose a noisy job. You like your job, it’s quiet and cosy, it has to be. When you have to read books all day and decide whether they will create a controversy about a small topic or if they will be the next best seller, it has to be quiet. How do you want to do that when everyone talk ? It’s impossible

So when you look through some clothes with your daddies you explained to them what happened yesterday at work. You didn’t get to told them yesterday night because it was too late and you were too tired. It’s a funny story so you need to be awake and ready to laugh when you hear it

Your daddies listen to you with smiles on their face. They always have that smile when you explain something that make you happy or giggly. They have all kind of smile when it comes to you. One when they’re watching you sleep, another one when they watch you play, one when you laugh your lungs out in front of a movie,… and you love all of them

So of course you love explaining stories because you are sure they will have one of their beautiful smiles. You look through some shirts for your daddies ‘’ it was so funny’’ you giggle ‘’are you ready to heaw it ?’’ You ask unable to hide your excited smile

You nor your daddies see the man who is near you since a while now, staring at you with deep and dark eyes

‘’Sure, little one’’ your daddy smiles while poking your nose with his finger

Little one

You giggle before explaining ‘’we were in the middle of our books when one of the man came back with coffees in his hands, he ends up tripping and all the coffees were on the ground’’ you giggle ‘’he wanted to bring to everyone their coffee but he messed up’’

Bucky and Steve chuckles at your story as they keep walking deeper In the store while your staring at beautiful sunglasses ‘’i think it’s silly to-‘’

‘’Talk louder, sweetie. You can stay where you are- where we can have an eye on you, but talk louder if you want us to hear you’’ your Papa says

You lift your head so the sound can go further and you speak louder like your papa asked ‘’I think it’s silly to bring all the coffee at one time. He could have gone back and forth several times’’ you say still watching the beautiful purple glasses ‘’don’t you think ? I would never have done things like him, I would have let some and go back to get them to be sure all the coffees are safe in every hands’’ you add

What you thought were your daddies steps behind you is the steps of a total stranger. He grabs your arm and turn you around in a harsh way making you let out a cry in pain ‘’you think you’re funny ? You think you’re smart ? Who the hell do you think you are!? A grown up ? A big and indépendant woman ?’’ He spits through his teeth. His deep, dark and empty eyes fall into yours ‘’someone asked for your opinion ? No one care what a little baby like you think about the real life! You don’t know a thing about what’s happening around you and you dare speaking like you live that life every day ? When in fact you’re just a baby who can’t do anything without her daddies. When you’re absolutely useless and a burden to everyone around you in your life!!’’ His hand is tights around your arm and you don’t remember feeling a pain that intense once in your life.

You’re too stunned to speak, you’re too hurt to speak. The tears make their way in your eyes as you look into his eyes

Where are your daddies ? Why don’t they come and protect you ? Do they have something to do with this ? Did they asked this man to talk to you like that to make you understand how they felt toward you ? Is the man speaking for your daddies ? Where they too scared to tell you that in your face so they send someone else to do it ?

All kind of horrible thoughts make their way in your mind and the only thing you want to do is pushing them away, far away, just like you want to do for that stranger who is bringing his face closer to you with every passing seconds. You want to but you can’t. Not when all your muscles are freezing

‘´you need a lesson. That’s not how little ones are suppose to act. You don’t speak like that. you don’t value yourself. You shut up and cash in. That’s how it work’’ he adds and starts to drag you out of the store.

What do I do ? Do I scream ? But what if I can’t ? What if I’m not able to scream ? What if the man will be more angry ? What if…

You gasp and all you want to do is to pull your arm away from his tight grip. He yanks your arm toward him sending you a huge pain in all your arm and making you falling forward at his feet. He keeps walking, dragging you with him, somewhere, away from your daddies.

You thought he will never let you go, you thought he will drag you away and nobody would've found you. You thought you'll be alone, abandonned once he will go away. His fingers are squeeaing your arm really hard making you think you're blood can't run in it anymore.

You don't know what to do, you don't know what happen. Everything happened so fast, you didn't had time to look behind you at your daddies, you didn't had time to understand what happened and where you're going

"I'll show you how you're suppose to act. I'll put you back in your place, where you belong to, where you're not suppose to go out." he snaps while walking deeper. Even though there's people here, and the man drags you like he shouldn't to, it doesn't seems to alert anyone. Maybe it's normal ? Maybe not ?

For a second time, everything happen too fast for you to understand. Someone else grabs your arm and tries to pull you to him while another one goes tot he man. You close your eyes, if it's your daddies then it's perfect and if it's not, it still can't be more bad than it was. Ypu feel the mean stranger letting your arm go and you go to run away from everyone, not knowing if you were still in danger or not. You're free and that's what matters, now you have to go back to your daddies before they get worried

"sweetness," Your Papa calls you as he reaches for your arm again. You stop running and turn around, your eyes found his body and once you're sure it's him you run to him. He lifts you up in his arms and sighs in relief once you're safe in his arms. You hide your face in his neck and he breathes your sent.

His arms are tight around you but not in the same way than the hand's man, this time it's in a good way. He rocks you from side to side and shushes you to try to calm your sobs and cries.

All you can do is to let go of everything. You're safe and it's like an open door to all your cries so they can finally come out.

"You're okay now, sweetie. I won't let you go. You're safe. No one can hurt you, i'm here now, i'm here" he whispers in your ear hoping it'll make you feel better

You squeeze your arms around his neck and you feel him taking a big and deep breath. You don't realize how worry they were when they turned around and didn't saw you anymore, how worry they were when a woman who was in the store the whole time explained to them that she saw a man yelling at you before taking you with him. She knews you were with Steve and Bucky so she went straight to them once she found them in the store.

"Daddy ?" you whisper, still scared to look away from your Papa's neck. He strokes your back "he'll be here any time soon, baby" he reassures you. Steve watches Bucky dragging the man out of the mall. He has to keep his anger for himslef even if all he want to do right now is killing him after hurting him. He knows he has to wait for Steve but he still punches the stranger in the face a couple times before putting him into a van driving by Natasha.

They'll handle it at the avenger's home, not now, not here. Right now they're here for you. They'll stay with you as much time as you need and want to. The man will have to wait because there's no way they'll let you alone for handeling that.

Bucky rushes to you and takes you in his arms. He gives Steve his keys and they start going to the car "we're so sorry that we let you alone in the store, we're so so sorry, babygirl. It'll never happen again, i promise you. We're here and we'll keep you safe no matter what" Bucky says sliding his hand under your shirt to stroke your bare back. You hide your face in his neck just like with your Papa and keep sobbing your little heart out

Bucky and you sit on the backseat of the car while Steve drives back home as fast as he can without putting you all in danger. His eyes go fro time to time in the mirror to check on you even though your Daddy is with you, he can't help himself.

You're curled up against Bucky's body, you don't let him go, you don't want to. Now that you have a grip on one of them, you won't ever let them go

Bucky strokes your back and legs until the car stop in front of the house. They trust their collegues to take care of the stranger until they get there.

Steve opens your door and Bucky gets out still with you attached to him like a Koala. They go upstairs and your Daddy lies you down on the bed while your Papa goes grab your pyjama. Bucky carefuly removes your pants and just like he thought, you'll need a new panties and a shower, but that's okay. They knew something like that can happen and even more when you have a very stressed moment. They will never yell at you or punish you because of that

He moves your panties before moving your clothes on your upper body, leaving you naked on the soft bed. He looks around your body to see if there's any mark on you and his blood runs cold when he sees your arm. Your sweet arm now paint with a mixt of colours.He tries to stay calm, for you and for himself. He bends over to stop staring at it and kisses your little belly making you smile a little. He smiles back at you, that's all he wanted, seeing you smile and he succeed

He carries you in the bathroom and sees Steve already getting the shower ready. Your Papa checks the water while your Daddy sits you on the toilet in case there's more who want to come out

He kneels before you and moves your hair behind your ears "my beautiful babydoll" he quietly says while staring at you. You sniff and melt into his touch

Once the shower is ready and you're too, your Papa lifts you up and puts you in the shower while your Daddy leaves the bathroom against his will. All they want to do is stay with you, the last thing they want is to look away from you but one of them has to get everything ready for you, and since Steve didn't had you in his arms since a long time and since he went to grab your pyjama, it's only fair that it's his turn to stay with you while Bucky prepares everything you'll need, such as your paci and Bucksie, a warm blanket and your bottle of hot milk.

As he finishes preparing the couch, he hears his husband coming downstairs with you on his hip. Your Daddy kisses your cheek and helps Steve laying you on the couch. Your Papa grabs the bottle of milk and your paci while your Daddy puts a blanket on top of you, and gives you Bucksie.

Your Papa sits down and rests your head on his laps before giving you your bottle and your Daddy lifts your legs and rests your feet against his laps. Your staring at the tv playing your favorite cartoon while you feel your daddies fingers on your body. Your Papa slides his fingers on your bare belly, knowing it's something who calm you down and who help you relax, your Daddy slides his fingers on your bare legs and bare feet making you giggle softly from times to times when it get too tickly.

They concentrate on you, they can't do otherwise. If they don't concentrate on you, they'll think about him, they'll see red and it's not the time, it won't be good. He'll have his moment too. He'll suffer for making you scared and wanted to touch you, he'll pay for hurting you. The time will come, sooner than expect

#@aagn360 #bucky barnes x steve rogers x little reader #daddies!stucky #daddy!bucky #little space #little!reader #bucky barnes #papa!steve #steve rogers #stucky x little reader #bucky barnes fic #steve x bucky #bucky x little!reader #bucky imagine #bucky fluff #steve rogers fic #steve x little!reader #steve roger

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heliads · 7 months

Text

'wckd is good' part 2 - newt

Based on a past request for a Maze Runner fic set in the MCU where Newt was Venom, Reader was Spider-Woman.

part one / masterlist

a/n yes this is wayy longer than i expected lmao but i choose to see this as a good thing

Running has always been easier than staying to face the truth. As you swing back through the dark city, you hear Newt’s words echoing in your head with every snap of web hitting concrete and glass. It is foolish to let one conversation shatter your entire worldview, but even running can’t convince your mind to settle back the way it had been. Newt has done his part well.

Worst of all, you think he was right about you, about everything. Usually, when the moon hangs low over the city such that its glow can be hidden by the shadows of the skyscrapers around you, your worst fears about this city seem like they couldn’t be more true. On nights like these, you always see a monster lurking in the face of every man, the darkness bleeding from every eye. Now, though, in every face you see only a blond boy grinning back at you. If the worst monster you’ve seen lately was just a kid like you, what does that say about every creature you’ve killed in the name of preserving the peace? What does that say about you?

You don’t get into any more confrontations that night, electing instead to perch on the edge of a dark roof and watch the lights of the cars go by far below you. Your shift ends, but you only return to WCKD headquarters when you’re certain no one else will be there. A few rooms have lights on, but you avoid them as best you can. There is no one you want to see right now. No, not true— there is one person you want to see, but if he’s in WCKD’s clutches, it’s all over.

Sleep comes fitfully that night, as it has every night before that and will every night again. You see Newt reaching out a hand to you, smiling easily, but then his jaw ripples and the monster’s awful fangs come out again, distorting his charm into something terrible. You wake up screaming; for you or for him, you can’t be sure.

Even more restless than usual that morning, you decide to go on a walk to clear your head. Normally, walking around in the bright sunshine, seeing the smiling families, the upturned faces, all serves to lift your mood. A strong city is a happy city; this is why you do it, remember? You protect these people, all of them. It’s worth every sacrifice.

Turning down another street, though, your spirits refuse to lift. How many more people would be here if you hadn’t been in charge of taking them out? How many times did you get it wrong? How many Albys do there have to be before you realize that you can’t make judgment calls on someone’s life?

Lost in thought, your guard slips unconsciously. You don’t notice the hand snaking out to grab your arm until someone’s already pulled you under a shadowy overhang. Immediately, you’re on high alert, grabbing a knife from your belt to press against their throat, but your attacker just laughs. It is this sound and this sound alone, that call like the high-pitched ring of a bell, that stops you from slitting his throat.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Newt,” you warn him as you pull your knife away from his neck.

For someone who’s life almost ended, he seems remarkably unaffected by your words. “It’s lovely to see you, too. Didn’t realize you remembered my name.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s my job to know things. Don’t take it personally.”

“Yes, Y/N, because it would be terrible to not be as affectionate as you,” Newt muses. “Forgive me for wanting to be friendly.”

“Being friendly gets you killed.” You remark plainly. “So does trying to sneak up on an assassin. Don’t let that happen again.”

You turn away and walk back onto the sidewalk. Newt, however, just joins you without a heartbeat’s delay. “It’s not up to me whether this happens again. I think you wanted to see me a little more than you care to admit.”

You shoot him an angry look, but Newt remains resolutely cheerful. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” Newt asks. Without giving you a chance to interject, he carried on blithely, “Or maybe you’re right. Here, I’ll give you a chance to prove it. I’m meeting up with some friends tonight to discuss our favorite enemy. If you don’t want any of this, feel free to stay away. Or don’t.”

He casually passes you a folded paper that’s been creased from staying in his pocket. A quick glance towards its contents reveals a place and time.

You arch a brow. “If this little gathering is happening so you can denounce WCKD, I don’t think giving the location to one of its best soldiers is really the brightest idea.”

Newt lifts a shoulder. “That’s what they said too, but I know what I saw last night. They don’t have a chokehold on you, Y/N, despite what you might try to tell me. Somewhere in there,” he says, brushing a hand against your temples, “you want out. Let me help you with that.”

You press your lips together, thinking. Going could be suicide. What if this is just a trap to take out WCKD’s finest agents one by one, and Newt’s just telling you this so he can lure you into letting your guard down?

At the same time, your mind whispers selfishly, what if he isn’t lying? What if there was a world without WCKD? You haven’t dared to let yourself imagine such a thing in a long time; security cracked down after Thomas and Minho ran away a year or so ago. There’s no way they’d let you go without a fight. If Newt’s friends had your back, then maybe, just maybe, you might win this one.

“You told your friends about me? Moving awfully fast, aren’t you?” You question.

Newt grins. “Don’t take it personally, baby. I tell them a lot. Doesn’t mean we aren’t special, of course, but you wouldn’t be the first girl I’ve brought home.”

You laugh, surprising yourself. “No need to get carried away.”

“Too late,” he says, smiling back at you, and then he turns down a corner and disappears into the crowd. You’re left clutching the note, wondering if this mistake might cost you your life, and if you’re leading any sort of life that’s worth saving to avoid a chance like this.

You shouldn’t go. Odds are, WCKD has someone tailing you, and even though you’re always careful to shake anyone you even suspect to be following you, there’s no way to tell for certain that you got rid of everyone. You check your clothes and personal items thoroughly for recording devices every time you leave WCKD headquarters, but what’s the precautions of one girl against such a massive organization?

You check the note once, twice, and then again. The time is later tonight, the pickup location outside the docks near the south of the city. Newt hasn’t given you many hours to deliberate, although you suspect that was intentional. The less time you have to ponder about whether or not you’ll take him up on his offer, the less time you have to turn them into WCKD if you decide to betray him instead of trying to run.

In the end, you put away your sense of self-preservation and head out again. You aren’t scheduled to go out on patrol until tomorrow, so you’ll have plenty of time in case something happens. You don nondescript clothing and pull a baseball cap low over your head to disguise your face. After taking a long, roundabout way to the docks to avoid suspicion, you stand on a pier, watching the dark water go by.

It was smart of them to pick this place. The sound of the tides, the churning of the boats up and down the water, the roaring of distant traffic echoing off of the tall buildings, all serve to muffle the sound of the strangers as they walk up to you. Normally, you’re able to sense trouble when it comes to you, but maybe your reflexes decide that your assailants aren’t a threat before your head makes that call, because you don’t notice anyone sneaking up behind you until they’ve already shoved a dark hood over your head and clamped a mouth over your hand to silence any shouts.

The second the hood is pulled over your eyes, you’re swimming in dark danger. You can feel the heartbeats of the people around you; four of them, men, young men. Boys. Newt’s age. Your age. They’re desperate, you can taste their fear like metal on your tongue. One of them has a limp. If you strike now, you could break a leg, roll away long enough to get the hood off of your head, then kill them all. They’d be dead before they even hit the ground. The blood would run scarlet into the river and ruin your last chances of leaving this hell. You’d be alive, though. Isn’t that why you do all of this, to live? Isn’t that the only motivation any of us have ever had?

A whisper in your ear, sharp and urgent: “Trust me. Please.”

Newt.

You don’t trust people. You shouldn’t. He knows this. If Newt set you up to die, though, he would have killed you already. Newt’s monster doesn’t need to sneak up on you and blind you to kill you. One snap of those jaws would do the trick. If Newt wants you to play by these shifty rules, there must be a reason. Strangely enough, you realize that you believe in him enough to want to know what that reason is.

You comply, going limp long enough for the others to seize hold of your arms and take you with them into a waiting car. They intentionally take a confusing, circuitous route so as to confuse you. Still, you carefully note each turn, how long you stop at traffic lights or stop signs. Then you’re bustled out of the car again and into a building with tall ceilings; you can tell from how your footsteps echo against the top that the sound has a long way to go.

Eventually, you’re sat down on a chair, your hands bound behind you. The others hover nearby, you can sense their presences. There are more of them now, probably a dozen. Mostly inhumans, with the occasional exception. Not bad numbers, but not enough to really challenge WCKD. That’s why they’ve gone to you, though, you suppose. Foolhardy, but not completely insane.

A voice, loud and challenging, calls you sharply back to reality. “Y/N. You work for WCKD, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you answer deadpan. “None of you do. That’s why you were so kind as to bring me here, right? You were desperate. Now, can you take this hood off of my head? I would hate for you to miss anything I said.”

The loud boy scoffs. “There’s no way we’re letting you get a good look at us. You’d just turn us in.”

You cock your head to the side, staring exactly where you think the boy’s eyes are. “Would I? I don’t need my sight to do that. There are fifteen of you in this room right now, but that’s not all of you. About five leaders, I think. All teenagers. One adult, though. He drove. And one little boy. I can hear your heartbeats. I know who you are.”

A young voice lets out a muffled complaint from the far side of the room. “I’m not a little boy.”

Instantly, he’s shamed into silence. “Shut it, Chuck. Don’t give yourself away.”

A weakness. You grin, even though they can’t see it. “Chuck? That’s the boy, then. If I looked up connections between boys named Newt and Chuck, how long do you think it would take for me to track all of you down? I’d start by checking security cams near the docks. We’re in the warehouses near the docks. I’d guess the third from the left in the second row, yes? Usually used for temporary storage of agricultural products, but you’re in between seasons, so it’s empty for now and you’ve been borrowing it for meetings.”

A collection of gasps confirms your theory. You press on. “I know where you are, I know who you are. Bonds and a hood won’t keep me. Hell, I don’t even need you to undo me. I can manage that by myself.”

See, your would-be captors were so distracted by their own seeming safety that they didn’t check to make sure your wrists were fully together when they tied you down. Also, they were so stunned by you being able to catch onto them that they didn’t notice you slowly pulling a blade from your sleeve, nor spot when you sawed through your bonds. You stand up easily, toss the ropes to the ground, and pull the hood from your head.

You’re greeted with fifteen shocked faces. Well, fourteen. One’s grinning proudly. Newt. He winks when you catch his eye, but he’s careful not to let his friends see. Another boy, with close-cropped hair and a dark glare, looks particularly unhappy about your little escape. This is the one who had been speaking to you, you assume, and there’s the man in the back who drove you here. Silver touches his dark hair near his temples, but he looks intimidating enough anyway. Close by him is a girl about your age.

The angry boy who had spoken earlier groans in disgust. The angrier he gets, the more his eyes start to flicker, turning from green to a fiery red. Sparks flash along his clenched fists. Another inhuman, then. Fire powers. He’s probably somewhere on your list. “Who tied her up? Winston, you know to make the bonds stronger than that.”

“Wasn’t his fault,” you call out, and hold up the knife you’d disguised in your sleeve to make your point.

The boy groans again. “What is that? No one checked her for weapons?”

“You certainly didn’t, Gally,” Newt points out.

The boy– Gally– tosses Newt an irritated look. “Don’t start with me, Newt. I bet you’re just delighted with her for this bit of showmanship, aren’t you?”

“Very,” Newt says, grinning over at you.

Gally looks like he can’t decide who he wants to throttle more, you or Newt. “Fine. Fine. Let’s get started, if that’s what you really want. How do we know we can trust you?”

“You’re the ones who kidnapped me,” you argue. “I think I should be asking that question first.”

Gally might actually try to kill you this time, so Newt quickly steps in before things can escalate further. “Play along, will you?” Newt asks. “We’ll get nowhere if both of you are bickering the whole time.”

You sigh. “Alright, fine. If I wanted to turn you guys in, you’d already be dead. WCKD doesn’t cut corners, you know that. We would have burned your entire establishment to the ground. Happy?”

“Very,” Gally remarks dryly. “We’re familiar with your typical way of handling things, thank you very much. We know how WCKD operates.”

“If you know so much, why do you need me?” You ask. “Newt knew where to find me even on my off day. I’m assuming you’ve done your research thoroughly or you’ve got a source, in which case you’d have no reason to reach out to me, too. Why take a risk like this?”

“Because our source is no longer in WCKD,” Newt interjects. “Our information is out of date. We want more relevant gossip, to put it plainly.”

You frown. “You used to have a source in WCKD? Who?”

Newt goes silent, something almost like pity in his eyes. Gally, unencumbered by weak things like empathy, answers your question. “Thomas.”

You draw in a harsh breath. “You know Thomas?”

This changes the whole situation. Thomas– Thomas was everything. He and Teresa were the very first to show up to WCKD. You were the third, but they’d been there for at least a year before you. It changed them, you think. It made them closer than anyone else. When Thomas left, it destroyed Teresa. You and Teresa have known each other for years now, but it’s nowhere remotely close to the bond she shared with Thomas. Nothing can ever match that.

Thomas had been the last of the good ones, you think. After he left, everything was ruined. It was the first sign of the end of days. If Thomas, Thomas the believer, Thomas, the one who was willing to give everything to cause even when it left him broken and bloody, could walk away, what claim did the rest of you have to anything at all?

Thomas’ departure changed the way that WCKD worked. Neither Thomas nor Teresa had been true experiments. Teresa was trained as a Black Widow, and Thomas made himself an indestructible shield, running around the city as Captain America and saving people wherever he went. They juiced him up a little to make him stronger, but nothing as intense as the rest of you. No cuts were made.

Thomas was the last ideal any of you had that humanity could be protected by other humans. Once Thomas was gone, WCKD started up their labs in earnest. Now, almost every one of their teenage recruits is modified in some way. They say it’s because you have to fight fire with fire, that you can’t possibly compete with mutants if you’re not more than human yourself, but many terrible things have been done in the name of scientific progress. This would not be the first.

And now you find out that Thomas had once been here. Thomas had been friends with everyone in this room. You look wildly from face to face, expecting to find the boy you had once pledged to defend until your dying breath. The two of you had saved each other on countless dangerous missions, but now he’s just gone, and you aren’t even entirely sure that you would recognize him were you to see him again.

Newt saves you from the peril of not knowing. “He’s not here,” he answers you gently. “Thomas got out. He told us to try to reach you, though. Said you could be trusted.”

“Not Teresa?” You ask softly. That surprises you. If Thomas could save anyone, wouldn’t it be her?

Newt shakes his head. “He said Teresa was better than him. She would never leave.”

“But I would?” You say bitterly.

“He knew you could save us, not just the city,” Newt supplies. You’re not sure if that makes it all better or worse, but it is an answer to fill the empty silence curling between your ribs, so that helps with something, at least.

You nod curtly. “Alright, then. If you’ve got Thomas on your side, I’ll help. Just– have you seen him recently? Is he still alive? I would ask on my end, but I don’t know if WCKD would tell us if they– if they killed him.”

Gally looks vaguely irritated. “No, the asshole’s still alive. He’s a major pain, won’t stop asking questions or getting in the way we do things, but he’s still kicking.”

You grin in spite of yourself. “That’s Thomas for you. He has a way of getting under your skin. He means well, though.”

Newt laughs. “That’s one way of putting it. He skipped town a week or so back. Said he was going to try to look for an old friend.”

At first, you’re confused about who that would be except for you and Teresa, and then– Oh. It hits you like a tidal wave. “Minho.”

Newt nods. “You knew him too?”

You smile. “The four of us were always the closest. Maybe we can do a little family reunion if I can get away without WCKD always watching my back.”

Gally coughs pointedly. “Let’s get back to business. You can reminisce later about the good old days of killing mutants together. You’re willing to help?”

You incline your head. “As best I can. Tell me what you need and I’ll do my best to get it. It might be slow going at first, I’ve got to divert suspicion, but I have access to just about everything. Perks of working for them since I was small. Satellite feeds, location tracking, anything.”

For the first time all night, you think Gally smiles. “You know what, I think we just might be friends after all.”

Isn’t that a lovely thought? As it turns out, Gally isn’t wrong. Days turn into weeks, and the information you accumulate for Newt’s friends steadily turns into a virtual mountain. You find mutants for them, people with abilities who WCKD would kill but they can save. They have friends, too, who are already on WCKD’s radar and need to be removed from the list. You pretend to kill them to erase any sign of their existence. After that, they can run without getting gunned down when they try to leave the city. WCKD has this place on lockdown, the only way you can escape their clutches is in a bodybag, so you fake that part and everything goes according to plan.

You usually rotate members of Newt’s group when handing off information to avoid suspicion, but your favorite blond shows up the most often. You heard one of the other boys grumbling once that Newt has a habit of insisting that it be him to meet up with you, even threatening to set his monster on someone who argued too hard against it, but that just makes you laugh. Newt’s a sweetheart. He wouldn’t hurt any of his friends to stop them from flirting with you. Hopefully.

One evening, the two of you are walking along the river for such a handoff when Newt breaks the one boundary both of you have had the good sense to maintain and asks you when you’re going to leave along with them. Newt’s friends aren’t interested in making a stand against WCKD, they just want to get the last of their allies out of the city before the whole thing burns down.

The more you research on Newt’s behalf, the more you realize how precarious the whole affair is. WCKD has no surefire way of keeping crime out. Their only solution for stopping violence is to nip it in the bud, so to speak, but innocents get caught in the crossfires more often than not. The murder rate is skyrocketing anyway. Nothing any of you do will matter in the long run, and it just puts the teenagers WCKD hires in harm’s way more than the adults who hide in the wings and keep their hands clean.

It’s like working just downhill from a volcano. At some point, the lava will flood into your streets and engulf you all in an inferno of blood and tears. You pretend that you can just work hard enough to fight that, but it isn’t working. It hasn’t since the start. You can push off the inevitable a few weeks, but it always comes in the end.

That’s why Newt and his friends are so interested in getting out. WCKD keeps clear tags on all mutants and inhumans in the area. The second any of you try to run, they send an assassin out to kill you. Supposedly, it’s all about containing the threat, but none of this has ever been about having a good motive, no matter what you say. Everything leads back to power. If you run the city with all the inhumans, you have more power than the rest. Easy as that.

You’ve been steadily helping people escape. Chuck was one of the first to go, all of you agreed. He was just a kid, hardly twelve. He ended up on WCKD’s list because he figured out how to turn his flesh and bone into any material. Soft skin could become as hard as diamond or as pliable as water in a second if he just thought about it. Often, he didn’t, electing instead to just ignore his mutation in favor of trying to blend in with the rest of the guys he idolized, but WCKD doesn’t forget as easily as a preteen.

There were others, too. Clint, a boy about your age, who could heal from any injury. Frypan found an old spell book and learned how to cook up portals to other places and fantastic rings of glowing energy. Zart could shrink as small as an ant or grow taller than a skyscraper. Jorge had a mechanical suit impervious to most attacks that let him fly so long as he kept it up to date; he taught a girl named Brenda how to do the same. They don’t like being apart.

Only a few remain now. Newt, with his monster. Gally, with his fire abilities. You, with your webs. Thomas has appeared a few times now to help ferry people out of the city. The first time you saw him, you nearly wept. It was like seeing a ghost. You assumed he had died a long time ago, but then you’d walked into the warehouse one day and there he was, making a sarcastic joke to Newt. He’d turned to look at you as you slowly approached, and said it was good to see you again. It had taken everything in you not to break down at that very moment.

So he’s alive, then, and Minho is too. Hypothetically, the rest of the boys you’ve been slowly ferrying out are with them. In reality, you have no idea if any of them managed to survive past the edge of the city, but you can hope. That’s all any of you have at this point, hope that someday, you’ll all live past WCKD’s imposed expiration date.

There is, of course, the idea that once the last of them leave, you’ll be left alone with the organization you’ve been steadily betraying, but truth be told, you thought you’d be found out long before the last of Newt’s crew left, so that decision was never going to be yours to make anyway.

Newt doesn’t care about that, though. Newt has told you that he’d break into WCKD headquarters all by himself if you were captured or discovered. So of course it makes sense that Newt is the one to look you in the eyes at last and ask when– not if, but when– you’d be leaving with the rest of them.

You let out a shaky breath. “I wasn’t under the impression that I would be going with you.”

Newt reacts as if you’ve slapped him. “Why wouldn’t you? You don’t believe in WCKD anymore. Burn them to the ground one last time, then leave with us.”

You sigh. “I would be abandoning the only life I’ve ever known. If I leave, WCKD would know for certain that I’d betrayed them, if they haven’t figured it out already. They have evidence of dozens of murders I’ve committed. If they wanted to, they could release that information and have the police drag me back to them. WCKD doesn’t like it when their experiments try to run away.”

You learned that lesson well enough with Thomas. Newt’s jaw locks at the mention of what WCKD had done to you, but he manages to keep his cool. “Exactly why you should leave. Where we’re going, no one will find us. It’s wild land in the middle of nowhere. There’s a total maze of forest cutting off outside access. We’ve got farmland and a big house for all of us. It’ll be a simpler life than we’re used to leading, sure, but no one can find us there. You’ll be safe, Y/N. We all will.”

You’re not sure if you want to laugh or cry at the fierce hope in his eyes. “Do you really believe that?”

“Yes,” Newt says decisively. “We’re so close, Y/N. Most of us are gone, only a few left. Promise me that you’ll go with us when the last of us leave. Maybe we can fake our deaths or something to stop them from looking. Just promise me you won’t let me leave alone.”

Promises are dangerous. They have a way of being broken. Still, you nod, and press your fingers against his when Newt takes your hand. “I’ll do it. I promise.”

A sunrise of a smile splits Newt’s face. “I’m holding you to that.”

You hope against everything that he does. To be honest, hearing him talk, you almost think that you could do it; make it out alive. The last few kids are shipped out of the city, and then Newt meets up with you, says that only he and Gally are left. It’s time to go. You agree to meet him that night to run. You haven’t let your hopes truly rise all this time, but it’s impossible to avoid now. A life without killing. It seems like a dream, but it might be yours after all.

And then, a few hours before you’re scheduled to meet Newt to leave the city behind, you get a call from WCKD saying they want to meet with you to discuss recent progress. You text Newt from a burner phone telling him that you might be late and to go on without you if you take too long. You know he won’t, but the comforting lie that he might make it out without getting caught up in your capture carries you to WCKD.

Your heels click on the tiled floor. You know everyone here, you have since you were small. That fact used to fill you with pride; after years of watching people get replaced, you alone stayed, along with Teresa. You had what it took to put your life on the line and keep going. You were the best of the best.

Now, it just seems like another betrayal. How could all of those people watch you grow up and still condone what they had forced you to do? You try to imagine making Chuck go out and hunt down kids his age. It makes you sick to your stomach. All of these people are complicit in the blood caking your hands, and they will never, ever be accountable for it.

You’re certain that they must know what you’ve done. You walk to the conference room in a haze. Newt is on the other side of the city by now. Maybe he’s already out. Maybe they’re all out. If there was one good thing you did in your life, you couldn’t be more proud that it was for him. After years of senseless death, you saved the lives of other mutants just like you. It won’t be enough to wash your ledger clean, but it’s a start. It’s a shame it’s all over now. No more chances to improve. Just one last opportunity to die.

You walk into the meeting room and take the only empty seat. Around you are many familiar faces. Dr. Ava Paige sits at the head of the table, her second in command, a sickly man named Janson at one side, Teresa at the other. Teresa eyes you with no small amount of judgment. How righteous she must feel, knowing that of the three kids who started it all, she alone was capable of carrying out the blessed mission without getting corrupted. How challenging, to wonder why both you and Thomas needed to leave and she could never find a reason why.

Other WCKD officials and high-level agents crowd the ranks. There are only a dozen people in here, maximum, but Ava Paige has chosen them well. They’re all older than you, making the aura in here quite sinister indeed.

Once you’ve sat down and the door closes behind you (do you hear a lock slide shut, or are you just paranoid?), Dr. Paige begins. “We’ve had reason to worry about you, Y/N,” she says. “You’ve always been one of our best agents, but your quotas have been down as of late.”

“By quotas, you mean the people that I’ve killed, correct?” You clarify, sending a ripple of whispers around the room.

Dr. Paige’s face tightens. “I refer to the threats you have eliminated from our glorious city, but if that’s the way you’d like to put it, fine. You have killed fewer times, yes. Why?”

“Maybe I didn’t find any more threats,” you reply.

Janson arches a brow. “There are always threats. Have you lost your stomach for it?”

You smile, although the expression is cold. “I have a question, Dr. Janson. Why is it always me?”

He frowns. “Pardon?”

“Why is it always me out there in the field?” You repeat. “All of you in this room would rather send a child out to kill inhumans than do it yourselves. Does that ease your conscience? Does it reduce variables of concern for human life if you force a teenager to kill instead of doing it yourself?”

Ava Paige rises to her feet. “Y/N L/N, you have been a part of this organization since the start. I remember when you were fiercely dedicated to the cause. Don’t tell me you’re walking away now because you’ve decided to reinsert morals into the equation. What about the people who will die because you are no longer willing to protect them?”

“I’ll find another way to protect them,” you shoot back, “One that doesn’t involve murdering people just because you think they might one day become a problem.”

“That’s naive and you know it. You can’t leave,” Dr. Paige says, her face bleached pale.

“Why not?” You ask. “Are you afraid that I’ll tell people what you had me do? What will you do to stop me?”

When she remains silent, you realize that it’s not just you who has something to fear from WCKD’s actions becoming public. They’ve sanctioned killing dozens if not hundreds of times. They can’t afford to call you back without letting all of their dirty secrets go, and that is a loophole you will most certainly exploit.

You stand. “I think we’re done here. I am.”

They don’t try to stop you. Teresa, however, runs out the door after you. “Don’t you leave us, Y/N. You know what WCKD means to this city.”

“I know what it means to innocent inhumans who have to fear for their lives every time they leave their homes,” you retort.

She pulls you into an empty room. In the half-light of the nearby windows, her eyes are frantic. “You’re the only one I have left. The only one who believed like I did. You know we have a responsibility to this city.”

“Not like this,” you whisper sadly. “Teresa, you know this isn’t the way. We can still save the world in our own right, but it shouldn’t come at the cost of this much blood. There are other ways.”

“What, like with that little group of mutants you’ve been running around with recently?” Teresa’s voice is shrill, and you feel your blood ice over in your veins. “I know, Y/N. I know everything. I know you’ve been feeding them information. You’ve been working with the enemy all along.”

“Then why haven’t you turned me in yet?” You ask quietly. “That would be what WCKD wanted, to know about moles or liars. Why are you telling me this now?”

She’s silent for a while, then: “I wanted to know why you would throw all of this away for nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing,” you tell her. “I made friends there. Real friends, who wanted me to be safe.”

“They’re not your friends, I am. Those are perfect strangers who could be planning to kill you the second you all leave the city. You can’t trust any of them.” Teresa argues.

You look her steadily in the eyes. “Maybe not, but I trust Thomas.”

That finally gets through to her. Teresa rears back. “No. He wouldn’t–”

“He would,” you continue. “I’ve seen him, Teresa. He knows all of my friends. Thomas is the one who wants us to get out alive.”

She shakes her head, but the fight is gone from her eyes, you can see it. “No. That can’t be true.”

“It is, Teresa,” you say, then on a sudden urge, “Come with us. There’s still time. WCKD is going to destroy itself in a matter of months, you know this. I don’t want you there when the whole thing goes up in flames. Come with me. Stay alive.”

You reach out to her, but Teresa backs away slowly. “I can’t abandon the cause,” she whispers.

It hurts like a broken bone, but you can’t say you didn’t see it coming. “Goodbye,” you tell her at last. “Thank you for being my friend.”

She nods once, tight and controlled. “You should go now. Before they try to stop you.”

There is nothing else to say, so you take one last look at her and run. She’s saved you one final time by not turning you in, but she’ll do no more for you from here on out. This is the end of you and her, although if you were going to be honest, you would know that your friendship effectively ended when you first started going against WCKD. Everything past that was a betrayal of your work with her, and Teresa knew it all along but didn’t say a word. She has always been the best at sacrifices, hasn’t she?

You should still have time to get to Newt before their car leaves. He’s probably stalling with everything he has so you can make it to him, and you won’t let him down now. You practically sprint out the door and down the sidewalk, hurtling towards the pickup location. Secrecy doesn’t matter anymore. WCKD caught on to the fact that you no longer want anything to do with them, and they’ll be sending someone after you to kill you soon if they haven’t already.

You whip around a few corners. You’re meeting at the docks one last time, it’s just a few corners down. You take a shortcut across a parking lot, but several dark cars screech into the space behind you just as you enter. WCKD already. You swear under your breath and pick up speed, turning down an alley so they can’t follow you except on foot.

One of your stalkers is crazy enough to run after you. He’s bigger than you, and gains ground quicker than you’d like. You take several quick turns, but can’t shake him. The alley opens up to the docks, and you sprint towards the empty pavement of the loading area. You’ve hardly left the shade of the alleys behind when someone collides with you from behind, sending both of you toppling to the ground.

You shove the man off of you, staggering to your knees to come eye to eye with Janson. “Experiments can’t leave,” he growls. “We’ll learn from your bones if not your missions.”

He draws a gun from his belt and points it at you. “Come with me, now. Don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be. I can collect your corpse if that’s easier.”

You wonder if Newt is still here, if he can hear you. You hope that he’s already gone. It’ll be far worse for him to watch you die. He’s already watched too many of his friends lose their lives to WCKD, you cannot be another one.

You hold up your hand slowly. “Don’t do something you’d regret.”

“I should be telling you that,” Janson snarls.

You wait for him to be distracted trying to move across the uneven ground, then lunge for the ground, shooting a web at his hand to muffle the trigger. He shifts at the last second, and the spider web hits the trigger instead, sending a rogue shot against the side of a nearby shipping container instead of you.

You duck on instinct, rolling away in case he tries to shoot again. Janson looks half mad as he aims at you again. “You can’t leave us,” he says, “We made you. You cannot abandon your creators.”

There’s a shadow moving somewhere behind him. With a chill, you realize you know who it is. Newt doesn’t know that Janson has reinforcements; although they’re still a little behind, they’ll catch up soon enough. You cannot afford for Newt to be caught, not now.

You shout as loud as you can, “Don’t do it! You have to run!”

Janson glances at you, confused. “Who are you talking to?”

You ignore him, calling again to the shifting mass of shadows steadily growing darker by the edge of the shipping containers. “You have to go! Leave me!”

“No,” answers the darkness slithering across the ground, forming into a massive monster behind Janson.

Janson whips around, and his eyes grow large at the sight of Newt’s monster. It snarls at him, displaying rows of wickedly sharp teeth. He tries to shoot, but the monster grabs the gun with one muscular hand, forcing it away and snapping several of the bones in Janson’s hand at the same time.

Janson screams in pain. “This is what you leave us for, Y/N? This monster? You’re no better than everyone you killed. You’ll always be a disease upon this earth.”

“Actually,” the monster corrects, “You are.”

Before your eyes, the shadows start to run away from Newt all at once, but instead of disappearing like normal, they coalesce onto Janson instead. Janson’s head is flung back as the monster enters him, eyes shot with dark veins. When it’s over, Janson is comatose on the ground, arms and face shadowed with the monster, and Newt is running over to you, human, anxiously searching you for any sign of harm.

“I’m fine,” you promise him, “But– what did you do?”

“I gave it up,” Newt says wryly. “I didn’t need the hate anymore. I just needed you to be alive.”

At last, you understand. Newt needed the monster so he could protect his friends from WCKD, but that’s over now. The last car is about to leave, and then the city, the dying, all of it will be a nightmare that has finally ended.

He grabs your hand. “We need to hurry. Jorge’s waiting, but he won’t want to stick around much longer.”

You run with him towards the waiting car. Gally’s in shotgun, and although he’s always sworn that he doesn’t need any of you, you swear he almost smiles in relief when he sees you and Newt slide in. “Way to cut it close, you guys,” he admonishes you.

Newt rolls his eyes. “We’re here now, aren’t we? Let’s go.”

“I’m perfectly fine with that,” Jorge says, and pulls away into the night.

You watch the dock disappear behind you into a web of roads and street lights. You thought it would be impossible somehow, leaving, like there would be an invisible wall to keep you here. When the lights of the city fade into a dim skyline, then vanish behind the safety of miles of distance crossed, you realize at last that you’ve done it, you’ve left. Now, all that exists for you is a wild dream of a simple life, one with your friends where no one tries to hunt you down.

Newt takes your hand and squeezes it. “We’re out,” he says.

“We’re out,” you repeat in somewhat of a daze. “Where are we going again? What’s that place where everyone’s waiting?”

Newt chuckles. “It’s a bit of a mess right now. It’s just us in the middle of nowhere, but that’s the way we like it. Thomas managed to acquire a property surrounded by parkland so no one could build nearby. It’s just us. Nice place, though. Lots of green space. We’re thinking about calling it the Glade.”

A soft smile crosses your lips. “The Glade. I like that.”

It sounds good. It sounds, at last, like a quiet end to your otherwise violent story. Sometimes, though, quiet isn’t always bad. It lets you know that you’re alive, that you made it. Quiet tells you that you’re going to be okay.

first part requested by @thornyrose463

maze runner tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @mayfieldss, @hiya-itsamber, @gods-fools-heroes, @hope92100, @23victoria, @w1shes43, @imwaysthelastchoice, @fadedver

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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