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eunoiaastralwings · 5 months

Text

Effects of a Truth Serum

featuring bucky x girlfriend!reader

fandom mcu- tfatws era

a/n dont ask me why i just did - it was a crack idea that got out off hand

warnings crack fic, fluff. innuendo (?) - SMUG BUCKY IS A WARNING. illusion into smut. and before you read just know am dyslexic. also the reader lowkey became my oc again. . . oop

You cover your mouth as you tried not to laugh as her boyfriend – who managed to get injected with the truth serum while they were trying to stop a few the flag smashers.

“you poor poor thing. . .”

You tease Bucky seeing how he looked annoyed and grumpy as he sat across from her – he was definitely mad at himself.

Bucky looks up at you.

Despite being under the influence of the Truth Serum – he’s annoyed by his girlfriend’s teasing and playful nature.

He doesn’t say anything – but the annoyed expression plastered on his face is clear enough.

You grins at your grumpy looking boyfriend.

“How you feeling, sergeant?”

You teased him cutely.

Bucky raises his eyebrow a little, slightly irritated by your continued teasing.

He finally breaks his silence.

“I feel. . . cranked; weird. This stuff’s really messing with my head.”

He looks at you – his expression slightly softer now but still slightly annoyed.

You sighed – gently holding his hand caressing it knowing he hated things that messed with his head or mind.

Bucky’s eyes follow your hand as you hold his.

His grip tightens slightly as you rub his hand. After a moment – his expression softens a little but his annoyance with the truth serum still hasn’t subsided.

Then you smirk – seemingly have very bright idea as she looked back up at your boyfriend holding back a huge mischievous grin.

Bucky watches you as you look up at him. He raises an eyebrow in curiosity, clearly wondering what exactly she’s planning.

“So. . .I just realized, I can ask you any question I want.”

You snickered.

Bucky doesn’t say anything at first.

He watches you and your mischievous grin with growing suspicion and curiosity – knowing exactly where this is leading. After a moment, he responds.

“I suppose you could. . .”

You smirked and leaned back crossing her arms thinking of the perfect questions.

As you lean back and thinks of the perfect questions to ask him, Bucky’s curiosity grows and he leans forward slightly – his eyes locked on you.

“How many women have actually been with back in the 40s!”

You instantly blurts out asking him – knowing he was quite the ladies man.

He raises his eyebrows and looks at you, and then he can’t help but let out a chuckle.

“I don't know the exact number. . .but more than you can count on two hands. . .and more. . .”

He shrugs his shoulders – still smirking.

Your jaw dropped “James. Buchanan. Barnes!”

“It doesn’t count if it was in war time!”

He mutters as if it were a valid excuse.

“Oh, of course, you probably slept with every nurse in the camp, didn’t you?”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“Not every nurse.”

He chuckles.

“But. . .I think. . .a lot of them. Yeah. . .”

He says thinking – causing you to raise an eyebrow at him.

“I was lonely, okay? And, I was young. And. . . hormonal.”

He shrugs again.

You smirk as the truth serum causes Bucky to say more of the truths.

Bucky clears his throat looking away – seemingly trying to keep himself shut; a faint blush from embarrassment on his cheeks.

“Right then. . .Hmm. . .”

You leaned back thinking of questions.

He waits patiently - or, as patiently as he can. The truth serum is doing its so-called magic.

Then she smirks again.

“When, how and where did you lose your virginity?”

His eyes widen.

“Jesus Christ. . .”

Bucky sighs and looks at you.

“You are making me answer everything, aren’t you?”

He’s slightly nervous – but doesn’t deny what he had just said.

You only smirk at your boyfriend.

“You know about mine”

You said.

“Yeah! Because I’m the one that took it! – I hate you right now!”

He rolls his eyes, but the smirk never leaves his face.

You only smirk as you watch him fight against the truth serum.

Bucky tries to hold it back – shutting his eyes but it was forced out.

“You’re evil”

Bucky laughs, slightly annoyed. But he doesn't lie to answer the question.

“The first time was in a bar. . .with a random waitress. . . in the back of the kitchen. . .Or back alleyway. I don’t even remember.”

He shrugs – “I was young and stupid.”

You just blink at him

“Wow. . .”

You whispered.

“What? You thought I was always a saint?”

He laughs lightly.

“I wasn’t always Winter Soldier, doll.”

“Come on. We were soldiers, back in the 40s. It was practically guaranteed to hook-up with other soldiers.”

Bucky smirks at the memory – “It was fun, I can't deny it.”

“Funny, how you can remember all that but not anything else!”

You narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend.

“I remember. . .certain parts of my time in the 40s.”

He looks back at her, smirking.

“I remember the women” He chuckles. – “It was one of the perks of being a soldier, back then.”

“Do you have a death wish?”

She asked her boyfriend – growing a little jealous now.

“Don’t start, doll”.

He says, knowing he’s in trouble. – “Relax.”

He looks into your eyes again – “It was a lifetime ago, honey. I’m all yours now.”

But you still had your eyes narrowed.

“Y/N. . .”

Bucky sighs – still looking into your eyes.

“I’m in love with you. It’s been years since I’ve even spoken of any of the women from my past. Can’t we just move on?”

He tries to smile in a reassuring way.

“I’m your only one. All the other women from my past. . .”

He chuckles to himself.

“They’re all just a distant memory at this point.”

Bucky says – gently tries to coax you into his arms again.

“Promise?”

You asked – as you reluctantly lets yourself be pulled into his arms.

“Always, doll.”

He smiles and wraps his arms around you.

“Just trust me, Y/N. I’m yours. . .and only yours.”

He gently leans in to kiss him.

You smile and softly kiss him back.

It wasn’t long before Bucky placed your back against the mattress too.

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comicaurora · 9 months

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What are your thoughts on guardians vol.3? (If you have watched it) I went into it, expecting it went to the garbage like the rest of the mcu, but I was pleasantly surprised by its creativity, trope subversion, and how it wrapped up the previously unresolved arks of its characters.

That's what I've heard!

The thing is, Guardians 3 could be the most transcendent work of cinema ever made, and I'd probably still feel little to no motivation to watch it at this point. It's not Guardians's fault - it's just suffering from the same problem that superhero comics have been struggling with for decades: no matter how good an individual arc or run is, absolutely nothing good lasts or matters in the long term, and the stories are shaped in such a way that "the long term" is the only thing anyone gets to build towards.

Whenever I complain about the MCU I get a handful of people loudly complaining about my complaining, with the general thesis that if I don't like it I shouldn't watch it or talk about it - if I'm not having fun, just stop engaging with it. And the thing is, I have. I am intellectually interested in why this massive franchise is fumbling the bag so hard, which is why I still check in on it sometimes, but I've long since stopped turning to the MCU for uncritical entertainment. And even the good movies or shows with a lot of interesting ideas - good character arcs, fun concepts, interesting planting for future payoff - don't draw me in anymore, because they're hooked into a massive moneymaking machine that will scrap and squander anything if they think it'll make them more in the quarter. It doesn't matter how good the writing is, because the writers are not allowed to tell a complete, finished story, and they have no control over what happens to their characters outside of their own script.

Captain America's arc was set up from literally minute one to answer one burning question at the core of his character: does a world without a war still need Captain America? After that incredibly basic tee-up at the end of First Avenger, half a dozen movies failed to come up with a reason to say "yes," and now Steve is retired for good after getting fumbled through four different storylines that couldn't even pretend that they needed him (the unused Chekhov's Phone from the end of Civil War still haunts me). The foundational arc of his entire character never happened because nobody bothered to keep track of it past a single movie.

Taika did something interesting with Thor in Ragnarok - take away Mjolnir, force him to recognize what it means to be the god of thunder, give him a very Odin-y missing eye - and the very next movie undid all of it. Just kidding, never mind, here's an eye and a new weapon and also his old weapon again, and in one more movie we're even gonna give him his hair back, probably as an apology for all the completely unironic fatphobia we're gonna slather him in for two and a half hours. I'm not even surprised Love And Thunder was such an overblown mess that barely took itself seriously - why would Taika bother trying to give Thor another arc when the powers that be will just roll it back in six months anyway?

I hear Rocket Raccoon has a fantastic arc in this movie. That's great, and demonstrates that he's being written by a writer that deeply cares about him. But he's part of the MCU, and the MCU doesn't let anything end, so if current patterns hold, Rocket is going to continue to serve as quippy plushie-bait for the next dozen movies and none of that depth is going to come through in the long term. Hell, since they're making Kang noises for the Next Big Threat and Kang's entire gimmick is rewriting timelines, literally none of this is guaranteed to matter. By next year, it might not have even happened anymore.

The MCU has successfully shaped itself into a paradigm where the bright spots of good writing are overridden and lost as soon as the writers room turns over, and that makes it really hard for me to muster up the enthusiasm to watch even a really good movie that's locked into the exact same grist mill as everything else. I'm glad people liked it, I hope it gets to stay good this time - I just have no desire to watch it.

#asks #not aurora

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winterarmyy · 10 months

Text

Promise Me | Part II

When he was sent out for war, Bucky made a promise to his lover that might just last through several lifetimes.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)

Words: 5.2k++

Pairing: 40s!bucky / eventually tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: little angst, melancholy but fluffy stuff, we have bucky's pov in this one, lovers who missed each other very much, emotional reunion, probably bad writing of fighting scenes (sorry guys), mentions of suicide, mentions of sexy times, death of main character (y/n' s past life), another attempt to follow mcu timeline, otherwise, nothing that's too heavy/sensitive for anyone to read.

P/S: Thanks so much for the feedbacks in previous chapters! Here's the new update, guys! I hope you enjoy your reading!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Brooklyn, 2024 – Glimpses of the past

"So, Mr. Barnes, are you still having nightmares?" Dr. Raynor asked as she leaned leisurely on her chair. However long it had been since the first time she met Bucky on their first therapy session, she still couldn't crack the man to talk more than he deem necessary.

Bucky sat silently on the sofa that was certainly big enough to fit three people with its size, as he stared blankly at the door behind Dr. Raynor, wanting to avoid eye contact with the woman.

"James, I asked you a question." She prompted as she crosses her legs together. "Are you still having nightmares?"

If he was being truthful, then his answer would've been yes, however he decided to test if she managed to see through him, "No." He replied with a convincing tone.

Dr. Raynor paused for a moment as she eyed his behaviour, "We’ve been doing this long enough that I can tell when you’re lying." She quirked her eyebrow as if she was non-verbally asked him to cut the crap.

"Well, you seem a little off today. Did something happen recently?"

Yes. Something did happened recently.

Sure, there was the horrid nightmare that had been haunting him in his sleep most of the nights, but lately there was something else that's been making unannounced appearance in his dreams. Something much older than his memories of the Winter Soldier.

They were glimpses of the past where he was but a man in his mid 20's living his best life with a woman he thought he was going to end up growing old with.

Bucky saw images of his younger, undamaged self tangled up in bed with that woman. His hands raking through her raven hair as he pushed the mess away from her face. And when she whined in her sleep he would let out a soft chuckle as he lovingly stroke his thumb across her cheek.

He remembered feeling the tug in his chest when the morning light touches her brown eyes as she peeled them open. He remembered the sweet smile she graced upon him as she pulled him in for an innocent kiss. He remembered the warmth of her naked skin rubbing against his own when she snuggled back into his body.

Those were always a pleasant dream to have during his sleepless nights. However rare it was to have them; he found himself spared in the gentle grace that she left behind from those loose pieces of memories. He realized that his broken soul yearns for her peace more than his will longs for his freedom.

"No." He lied again.

"You’re a civilian now. With your history, the government needs to know that you’re not gonna…" Dr. Raynor gestured her hands as if there was an invisible knife in her grasp as she motioned a stabbing movement.

Bucky let out a silent sigh, nodding his head with a somewhat forced derpy smile as she continued to explain, "It’s a condition of your pardon. So, tell me about your most recent nightmare."

However, Bucky remained stubborn on keeping the memories of his lover to himself. He simply shook his head as he briefly looked to the side and out the window, before coming back and confessed, "I didn’t have a nightmare."

Dr. Raynor breathed deeply, letting the air out through her nose as she clicked on the mechanical pen. The pointer latched on the surface of the lined papers as she started to write down her observation.

Bucky who was sitting on the opposite side only scoffed in respond to her petty attempt of threat, "Oh, come on. Really?" He taunted, "You’re gonna do the notebook thing?" Rolling his eyes in annoyance as he commented his thoughts outspokenly, "Why? It’s passive aggressive."

"You don’t talk. I write." The therapist replied with a short comeback.

Bucky glared intensely at her before letting out a sigh, "Okay. Okay."

His flesh fingers started to fiddle with his metal ones, a habit which he noticed he recently picked up after getting used to the high-tech vibranium arm.

"It wasn't a nightmare. It's just..." Bucky didn't know how to put it in words other than, "...a good dream."

It was in the peak of witching hours, when Y/N stood in the middle of the tiny kitchen section of her lover's humble apartment. The quiet of the night sometimes interrupted by the sound of the droplets trickling from the faucet.

There was a luminating light of the full moon that leaks through the open window, granting enough of a vision to see the layout of the kitchen. The stillness of the air made Y/N wonder if this is what she would need to go through soon.

Just an empty atmosphere without the presence of her lover.

And there she goes again, wondering in the seemingly endless darkness, thinking of the worst things that could possibly happen.

She had been staring unblinkingly at the counter top for who knows how long since she was woken up from her slumber.

Y/N couldn't go back sleep even if she needed to. Not when tomorrow is the day that she dreaded the most. The day Bucky was going on his first call, to be sent away to England first thing morning.

"Missed you in bed, yknow?" The huskiness of Bucky's voice broke her from the gloomy thoughts.

Y/N turned around to first see the bare shape of her lover's body, lean and slightly muscular, then trailed up to his sleepy grin, barely opened eyes and the mess of his bed hair sticking out all over the place.

She had to admit, partially, it was her fault for constantly pulling on them when he went down on her. But it was also important to note that it was entirely his fault for being so damn good at it.

Bucky's humming was hoarse when he walked towards her, "What are you doing up, doll?" While Y/N watched his naked figure moved closer.

Bucky Barnes is a beautiful man.

She knew that even before they started dating but it is a wonder that his beauty still to manage to catch her off guard sometimes.

The moment he engulfed her into his arms, she whispered onto his skin, "Can't sleep." She kept it short and ambiguous but that only became the biggest giveaway to Bucky.

Bucky effortlessly lifted her up on the counter as he settled comfortably in between her legs. His hands trailed along the side of her thighs, casually lifting up the thin material of her night gown before going under it to gently fondle with the flesh of her hips.

He leaned upwards, placing the softest kiss on her lips as he murmured, "Everything's going to be alright, y/n." He kissed her again for a good measure, "I'll be home to you before you know it."

Y/N wrapped arms around his neck, pulling him closer until their forehead touches each other's, "You must write me, always." She spoke quietly; as if it was a secret she wanted to keep from the world.

"You must tell me everything, James. Don't hide anything from me; every blood, sweat and tears. I want to know all of it." Her eyes pleaded desperately, "You must be safe." Their lips hovered over each others; so close, barely even touching, "And come home."

The blue of his eyes were glazed with so much love and adoration as he whispered, "I promise, doll. I'm not going to die before I meet you at the end of the isle."

Somehow, Bucky always knew what to say to make her crack a smile, "I love you, James. Too much for my own good." She pulled him as she kissed his soft lips, "I love you too, y/n. More than anything." He grabbed her by the head, latching his mouth on hers as if it was their last kiss.

Before she knew it, Bucky swiftly pulled her off from the counter and grabbed her onto his shoulder, causing her to yelp in surprise. "Oh my god, Bucky! Put me down right now!" The brunette simply laugh as she shriek his name, "James!"

"James!" Dr. Raynor managed to pull Bucky out of his thoughts. "You're clearly out of it today." She remarked before continuing, "And so, this woman in your dreams... Is she someone you knew back in the 40's?"

Bucky replied, "Most probably." He hesitated as he thought thoroughly, "Or it could just be a made up character that only exists in my dreams."

"Does she perhaps, have a name?" Dr. Raynor asked, in which he simply answered, "She does."

There was brief silence of unbroken eye-contact between them, before Bucky realized that the therapist was silently enquiring her name.

Bucky straightened his position in his seat as blatantly stated, "I'm not telling you her name." That was where he drew the line. Therapist or not; she didn't need to know his lover's identity.

Dr. Raynor hanged her hands up as a sign of defeat, "Okay, okay. That's fair." That was when the timer on her phone went off, "Oh, time's up." She reached for her phone and slide across the screen.

She quickly stood on her feet as soon as Bucky did on his own, "That would be all for this session. Thank you for coming in today, Mr. Barnes."

He had to let out a sarcastic chuckle when he said, "It's not that I want to anyway. It's mandatory." He walked towards the door but before he could turn the knob, Dr. Raynor spoke.

"Outside of this 'mandatory' session, I'd say my advice to you as a friend, is to maybe find her. Or her family." She suggested, "And if you're lucky..." She briefly paused, "...maybe she's still alive somewhere."

Bucky remained static for a moment before he spoke, "Thanks, Doc." He didn't look back to face her at all, before walking out the room feeling much more burdened than he did entering it.

Dr. Raynor's advice soon turned out to be a constant dilemma to him more than he anticipated.

Virginia, 1991 �� The man she once loved

Y/N panicked. She didn't think the appearance of that metal-armed man will trigger a deep-rooted memories she was desperately trying to forget; spiralling her back into old chapters of her previous life.

It was the year of 1991 and Y/N was in her 6th life. She was a black widow that went rogue after managed on escaping the Red Room program about a few years prior. She was drunk on hatred and vengeance that she almost recklessly killed half of the people in her facility on the day she escaped.

It's not to say that she came out uncut, it was quite the opposite really. Y/N had left the grounds with multiple holes on her body and a deep wound her face; a cut from the inner edge of her right brow all the way across her left cheek.

And that left her with a very prominent and unforgettable scar. Though she couldn't care less about it, especially when she knew Hydra was out there still thriving under another intellegence organization like some kind of parasite.

After she heard the news that Howard Stark has successfully replicate the super soldier serum, she is now somewhere in Virginia, trying to hijack the products before it falls in the hands of the Pentagon or worst, Hydra.

Unfortunately for her, the worst thing that could happen, happened.

Someone from Hydra managed to get their hands on them before she could, leaving the corpses of Howard Stark and his wife in the broken down car, posing it as a road accident.

The bodies was still warm and she knew the culprit won't be far from the crime scene, so she rode on forward until managed to catch up with him. She never intended to confront him head on. She was planning to follow him to the meeting point where they will transfer the products to another Hydra agent, like they always do.

But he certainly didn't care about her plan when he changed his route to a different location. She didn't even realized that her incognito was useless when he nearly shot her in the head.

Now, with her cover blown, it was just him and her alone at the gate of an abandoned building. "Well, shit." Y/N cursed.

She could feel the heavy tension from the atmosphere. Silence from the wordless man were screaming louder than her pumping heartbeat.

There were only two of those run-down street lamp that helped to brigthen up the battlefield. But even with the dying light, Y/N could see the silver of left arms, a red star on the upper side, black mask covering lower half of his face and a messy black shadow all over his eyes.

She knew who he was; though most of the intelligence community doesn't believe he exists. The ones that do call him the Winter Soldier. Hydra's most prized asset from the Winter Soldier program that Y/N had been trying to track for months.

Maybe it was a careless greed, or maybe she was just tired of living. But, Y/N dared herself to fight the against super soldier. It was intense but completely one-sided as the soldier managed to counter most her punches and kicks.

There were times that she felt like he was simply playing around with her and that riled Y/N to the core. If it wasn't enough for God to toy with her life, now this weapon of Hydra is joining the fun.

She was sick of it; and it got her to be impatient. That, however, was a mistake that she shouldn't have done especially during a hand-to-hand combat with the Winter Soldier himself.

Y/N ducked down from his swinging arm as she surged her own towards him but the man could see her moves from a mile away, so he dropped his knife to his other hand and managed to strike the blade right into where her pulsing heart resides.

All the times she had ripped her own life, it seemed that her soul was used to the pain that it took a few moments of time to register the pain.

"Ah, this is truly exhausting." She thought to herself.

She wanted it to end.

She wanted to rest. For good.

In her hazy vision, she looked up at the soldier and noticed that he had been staring blankly into her eyes; like a curious predator watching his dying prey.

She knew it was wrong, but looking closer at the shade of blue in his dead and frozen eyes, she couldn't help to find the resemblance in the man she once loved.

It was cruel to find the semblance of her lover in the eyes of her killer, but that tends to happen when a person's soul longed for someone so much that everything and anything became the reminder of them.

Streams of tears trickled down into her ears as her blood seeped through her clothes, staining the fabric and the ground under her.

Instead of hearing the sound of the soldier's footstep walking away, all she could hear was the vivid memories of Bucky's laughter, "I miss you, James."

She truly did.

She missed him so much that she wished that she can finally die this time around, praying for a chance to meet him once more.

But alas, that's not gonna happen anytime soon. Not when the God hates her now.

"I miss you so much." her voice shivered as she whispered her last breath.

Madripoor, 2024 – Long-lost lover

Easy to say, Y/N was furious that she let the memories of her past, the appearance of the winter soldier, distract her focus for her mission. She was furious that she didn't manage to get into Wilfred's lab before someone else did.

Don't get her wrong, though.

She was somewhat grateful when she found him dead, because that's means there's one less parasite that could potentially revive Hydra from the recreation of super soldier serum. But, she was pissed that she wasn't able to dig for more information about his research and the people he was affiliated with.

She knew he was recruited by the CIA before the blip but seeing that his lab is now basically a cargo, located in Madripoor, she doubt that he has anything to do with CIA now.

He's probably working with someone else in the underground scene.

Y/N sat leg-crossed on stacks of cargo, as she watched the scene from afar. The bounty hunters were ruthlessly attacking a group of criminals that attacked Shelby last night, while they were completely out-numbered.

She heard from the bar that it was considerably a high pay for the rewards especially when the targets were consists of the runaway prisoner, Zemo, Hydra's weapon, the Winter Soldier and the member of Avenger, the Falcon.

It was indeed an odd group of people but she couldn't care less about how that came to be. What caught her attention was the fact that the Falcon, who is a member of the Avenger, was affiliated with the Winter Soldier, who is an asset of Hydra.

And the fact that they were digging their feet in the underground world for the super soldier serum making the trio combination even more concerning.

She knew it was the best bet to approach the Falcon for information rather than going for the other two, so when the group split up during their fight, she quietly followed the Falcon.

He was a bit clumsy when fighting alone; or maybe it was because the hunters kept streaming in non-stop. Nonetheless, one by one, eventually the Falcon managed to take them down.

Y/N lurked at the corner, quietly observing his fighting style as he struggled with the few that was left.

"He's going to run out of ammo." She thought to herself.

And two shots later, he did.

There were two hunters left and he had no choice but to use his fists. Looking at him now, maybe he suited the hand-to-hand combat style more than gun combat. Y/N noticed his moves are more seamless than when he fight with a gun a few seconds ago.

The Falcon breathed heavily as the last hunter was tackled down. She decided that it had to be now or never, at least before the winter soldier came to the scene to regroup. When she stepped out of her camouflage, the Falcon only noticed her presence that he missed the red dot on his chest.

But, Y/N saw it, "Fuck! He can't die. Not before I get what I want." She couldn't let him go without getting information she needed from him.

In mere seconds, she jumped towards him and managed to pulled him away from the target. However, it was not far enough, that was when the bullet grazed on his side. Y/N quickly grabbed her throwing knife and land it right into the hunter's head.

The Falcon staggered backwards, meeting his back on the side of the cargo as he groaned in pain. His eyes scanned the appearance of his potential saviour; hooded figure, mask-covered face, assassin-like dressed – he realized that she matched the description of what Sharon had warned him before.

"So before we move, this might be unrelated, but I gotta warn you guys about someone." Sharon spoke as she equipped herself.

The three men looked over her as they gave their undivided attention, "While last night was hectic with the return of the Winter Soldier." She briefly looked over at Bucky, "But, there was also another person that made an appearance."

"She's known as the Deathstalker." She paused. "What I can say about her is she's a basically mystery; appeared out of thin air a few months into the blip." Sharon explained, earning a couple of nods from Sam and the signature frown from Bucky.

However, Zemo simply smiled and commented, "Ah, the pretty little Deathstalker." The mannerism of his speech was thick with Sokovian accent.

"You know her?" Sharon quirked.

Zemo smiled again, this time a little bit too smug, "We might have once crossed our path." He kept it ambiguous.

"When? You were in the prison years before the blip." Sam frowned as he questioned.

Sipping on the glass of liquor, Zemo answered, "She may or may not have 'visited' me to get some information about Hydra."

The mention of Hydra caught Bucky's attention but he kept it well hidden under his stoic expression. Noticing Sam's confusion with Zemo's insinuating answer, Bucky simply laid it out for him, "It means, she broke into the prison, Sam." he simply sighed.

Sam jutted his lips as he shrugged, "Guess you're not the only one who's insane here, Buck." He teased as he poked fun of Bucky's decision of 'breaking into the prison' to let Zemo out.

"You said, 'pretty little Deathstalker'. So you've seen her face?" Sharon asked curiously as she crossed her arms to her chest. No one had seen the assassin's face before, so she could help but to ask.

Zemo shook his head, "No. But that signature mask of hers cannot hide the beauty within." He smirked as he recalled the look in the Deathstalker's eyes; she had that obsession for vengeance. As he did when he broke the Avengers apart .

"You see, I've always had the eyes for beautiful things." He explained as if it was a natural thing to say.

Sharon knew shouldn't let herself expect too much from Zemo, especially when he had that attitude. She simply rolled her eyes and walked towards the seat next to Sam.

Bucky leaned his back into the sofa, spreading his legs apart as he asked, "Is she gonna be a problem?" An assissin that's been breaking into prison to ask Zemo about Hydra. That doesn't seem like a casual information to overlook.

Sharon shrugged as she continued, "Well, depends on your move. But, I'd advice you to never get on her bad side. People speculated that she's a rogue assassin turned bounty hunter but the thing is... she has never taken any job."

Bounty hunters get their money from jobs that's advertised all over the city. So, the Deathstalker couldn't be called a Bounty Hunter when she never take jobs before. If it were up to Sharon, the Deathstalker was much suited under the same category as Ronin, the masked vigilante who tracks down and slaughters criminals during the blip.

Sharon explained that, "She just stalks around the underground scene, and leave bodies behind for people to find."

Zemo interjected, "Hence, her name." Gaining a glare from Sharon, that translates to "Do you want to tell the story or what?"

"Right." Sam nodded as he takes in the information.

After earning a silent apology from Zemo, Sharon continued, "No one knows who she works for or what her aim is but there's rumours she's been hunting down Hydra, or anyone and anything affiliated to it."

Again, the Deathstalker's obsession with Hydra had caught Bucky's attention. A rogue assassin seemingly made it her mission to hunt down Hydra?

Bucky doesn't know what to make of that. So, he kept his questions to himself. Eitherway, if she gets in their way, he'd still need to fight against her.

"Why are you telling us this again?" Sam asked as he didn't find the connection between their mission and the Deathstalker.

Sharon replied, "It's just worth to note that she might be hunting for Wilfred Nagel too." She paused as her gaze fell into Bucky's, "...since the super soldier serum had been Hydra's obsession for centuries."

The Dealthstalker technically saved his life.

So, does that mean that she was not an enemy?

Sam was struggling between containing his pain and coming up with a plausible conclusion but Y/N's action quickly give him the answer he needed.

Within seconds, she had Sam pinned against the wall as the edge of her sharp blade dug into the skin of his neck, "What is an Avenger doing with the Asset?" Her voice sounded distorted through the voice-changing mask.

"Lady, I don't know what you're talking about!" He grunted in protest.

Sam was not used to Bucky being labeled as an "asset". Sure, he knew the name of Winter Soldier or Soldat. But, Bucky was never addressed as the Asset, at least not by the people around him.

Y/N grabbed him by the collar and harshly slammed him against the metal of the cargo behind him, causing him to curse as the pain struck on the side of his abdomen.

"Are you planning to revive Hydra?" Her menancing eyes searched into his, demanding for a truthful answer.

What kind of bullshit was she talking about?

Reviving Hydra?

Why the hell would he do that?

However, before Sam could retort to her accusation, Y/N was pulled back by an arm, wrapped around her neck from behind. She knew it was the Winter Soldier from the cold metal burning into her skin. The soldier's other hand grabbed onto her wielded hand, forcefully bending her wrist until the knife fell from her grasp.

He easily lifted her up in the air as he backed away, tightening the lock of his left arm around her neck while twisting her right hand to her back with his flesh hand. The smaller let out a robotic groan through her mask as she struggled in his chokehold.

While the two wrestled in between holding one down and freeing oneself, Sharon quickly ran to Sam's side, "Are you alright?" she prompted as she examined his wounds. The male simply nodded his head, "Yeah, it's just a graze." He explained before asking, "Is that the Deathstalker chick that you've been talking about?"

Sharon followed his gaze, and eyed the woman who was still struggling in Bucky's hold before she managed to land a paticularly sharp strike right into Bucky's stomach, "Yeap, that would be her." Sharon answered.

Usually a few strikes by an elbow of a woman doesn't really hurt the super soldier but unfortunately for him, the elbows of the suit Y/N was wearing were armored with thin yet effective pad made of vibranium. Due to its ability is to absorb and dissipate shocks, it managed to push him back and simultaneously loosen his hold on her.

When his guard was down, Y/N took the opportunity to slightly twist her foot back around his and grab onto his left arm. She pushed her bottom into his hips as she bend over, pulling onto his arm as she flipped him forward.

Y/N stepped backwards, standing on guard as the soldier rolled over on the ground before finding a position to stop the inertia; one knee of the ground while the other leg paused at his foot with his back facing her.

Her hands reached to her back and pulled two knives from the holster on the belt, gripping them by the handle while the blades facing downwards. She bended her knees into stance, much like a panther ready to pounce.

But when the soldier stood on his feet and turned around, suddenly her defensive stance flatter and her breath were cut short. The battled-tensed surroundings did not matter when all she could see was the soldier's face.

He looked a bit aged from the last time she saw him but a lot younger considering it was decades ago.

How could she forget those livid-blue eyes sharpen beneath the deep frown he was wearing?

Or the softness of his pursed lips ghosting over her own?

Even if the smooth skin of his forehead were now decorated with thin lines of wrinkles, and the exhaustion in the discoloration under his eyes had overshadowed the playful glint he used to have; they could never fool her to believe that the man standing in front of her right now was not her long-lost lover.

"James?" Her voice was gentle but the voice changer behind her mask didn't quite conveyed her tone.

Suddenly, the high walls of her defences begin to crumble into mere pieces of fragments like crushed dried leaves on autumn grounds. Time suspended, almost too still, as if it was trying to give her the luxury to cherish the revelation; to revel in the moment of joy and relief.

And there wasn't any thoughts formulated in the fog of her mind besides the need to melt in his arm. Somehow the dark side of her mind managed to trick her into believing that if she didn't touch him now, then she would perish in despair.

Her feet inches forward closer and closer, and her knives were long forgone, leaving clancking sounds on the surface of the ground.

When Bucky heard his name uttered by the woman, somehow it didn't sound foreign to him. It was as if he'd heard it before.

And when he saw the wet glaze in her brown eyes as she hesitantly walk towards him, he knew then that she was not approaching with an intent to kill him; he'd dare to say it was quite the opposite.

There were so much emotions in her gaze; grief, yearning, sorrow, need, joy – that he even his ex-assassin's skill couldn't possibly decipher them all. And that had impeccably managed froze every nerves in his body until he can only stood there, paralyzed on his spot.

With each hesitant step, more tears started to swell in her eyes. Step by step she took, hoping he wasn't another fragments of hallucination that she made up to ease her needs, until she finally stood close enough to him to realize he was real.

Bucky knew he should move. Reprimand her before she could land any sneak attack that he might not expect; but he couldn't. Not when she gaze up at him with that look in her eyes.

He unexpectedly drowned himself in those waves of emotions in her eyes, not realizing her actions until her shivering hands cupped his face.

Her fingers were cold as if they were soaked in ice.

Her voice slightly cracked when she spoke, "Is that really you, James?" Even if she was looking directly into his eyes, somehow the question sounded like it directed towards herself rather than to Bucky.

It's real.

He's real.

Her eyes casted down to where her skin met his warmth. There was a slight tingle when her thumbs rubbed against the stubble of his jaw, prickling her skin perfectly just as she remembered.

"It's you. James. It's really you." She mumbled under her breath, convincing herself over and over as if her brain refused to acknowledge it while her heart does otherwise.

Bucky, on the other hand, didn't know what to do or what to say. But, he hadn't heard anyone called him by that name so affectionately since Y/N. The lover he left behind during WWII, who's grave he had been visiting every Tuesday morning ever since that particular session with Dr. Raynor.

However, something in his guts were screaming at him to reach out to this woman's plea as she cried in his presence, lost in her own world as she muttered his name again and again.

But, why?

Why does he feel the need to cradle her body in his arms, and whisper the sweetest things to calm her down?

Why?

Bucky gulped as his eyes loomed over hers, "Who are you?"

<< Part I || Part III >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Feel free to leave feedbacks! I'd love to hear your thoughts! Until then, see you in the next part 🤍

#winterarmyyfics #promise me au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x you #40s!bucky #tfatws!bucky #winter soldier!bucky #1940s!bucky

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presidentlokis-hornyhelmet · 10 months

Text

Loki x wife!Reader Headcanons [throughout the MCU]

Thor1 Loki: He's so soft soft baby TM and caring and always so sweet to you, in private or in public. Love is overflowing! Always kissing you and spoiling you. Not handsy but is always hand holding, or wraps arm around your waist. 2x Verbal Admiration than when he courted you. Favorite thing in the world is your blush and your laugh. You make him melt and he worships the ground you walk on. Gifts, LOTS of gifts.

"i don't deserve you, y/n." "If You don't deserve me, no one else does."

💕How is the love-making?: Soft and Full of emotion! Worships your body; worships You. He'll make you understand why it's called love-making. Frequent eye contact because he loves getting lost in your eyes. Asgard who? (Odin has to forbid you from seeing Loki at work hours because it distracts him😂)

Avengers1 Loki: won't even look you in the eye, ignores your presence like his heritage. When you do manage to get a word with him, he'll Loki-talk you (i.e. vague words with ambiguous meanings that can be interpreted any way) into thinking he's been cheating on you (LIES). Not even a decent answer. Refuses to give you anything but his ire.

"You still think me a lovesick puppy, girl?" "My husband is a God who's just deeply devoted to his wife! Who are you and what have you done to him!?" "Tut tut, my darling Lorelei -oh wait, that's not Your name." *smirks evilly and vanishes*

💕Um.. love-making..?: most probably not, he's busy being Villain TM. But if you do manage to, he'll end up leaving you unsatisfied or humiliated, tossing you away like a rag doll -anything to make you think he's a bad guy (He's not. But you have to, otherwise The Other might hurt you too.)

TDW Loki: he'd still keep up the A1 facade and if you still want him, he'll be mean and act borderline disrespectful, claiming it's your duty as his wife. But in reality, he only wants to hurt you because spending the rest of his life locked up will be easier with you hating him. Looks at you longingly from his cell with an inexplicable sadness in his eyes, but will aboslutely deny it.

"I know you wouldn't invade Midgard simply for power. I know you are above that, Loki." "It is 'my Prince' to you. And, I'd rather you stick to your duties as just my wife."

💕Smut?: Sure, if you hide it from Odin's knowledge. Lots of degradation, though. You can see the apology on his face, feel the desperation on his touch and hear the veiled sadness is his piercing words. His body language is begging you to stay, yearning for you and hoping you'd understand. Once it's over, he won't even look at your eyes knowing if he does, he can't be mean to you. What hurts him should make him stronger.

TR Loki: After he shockingly discovered his mysterious survival, he ran back to the palace in search of you. But got to Odin first and.. y'know. He's successfully avoided any romance with you thanks to his disguise, but yearning is on the double when he sees the depth of your devotion.

"All-Father, I wish to petition a statue on my... late husband's behalf. Of him, of what he's done for Asgard." "He's a traitor and a convict." "Who gave his life in atonement. It was a misguided atte-" "Misguided!? Is that what you call acting against the Hlidskjalf? He invaded Midgard and took innocent lives!" "And paid for it with his own. I beg your reconsideration, All-Father." *After a long, scrutinizing pause* "The council will decide." "T-thank you, All-Father." *Loki as Odin looks at you bow and retreat, sadness in his eyes* 'Oh, my love, how do you still love me after all I've done to you?'

After evading death by planetary destruction and back in the Statesman hale, healthy and alive, he makes up for earlier. You refuse to accept, still feeling bitter, but Loki has his ways ;)

💕How so? 👀: As I said, making up. For dayyyys. Lots of apologizing, lots of begging and even the occasional spanking. Many, many rounds even. Thor is quite concerned. Wait, why is Loki carrying you everywhere, can't you wal- OH.

IW Loki: If you thought you knew how much he loves you (in Thor1), oh baby, you're about to be proven wrong. F*cking killed Thanos in, like, 2 seconds max. All it took was Big Ugly Grape-head to see you and give a creepy smile, the next minute he's lying headless on the ground, his army dissipating into dust.

"The tesseract or yo-" *gets decapitated by Loki*

❓And the love-making?: .... uh, doubtful.. Thor is busy choking your husband about why the f*ck he didn't say anything of having the tesseract. (Seriously, Thor, how else did you think he survived a planetary level destruction!? *exasperated sigh*)

And you lived happily ever after <3

The end. 💚

#loki x reader #loki x reader imagine #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki imagines #loki headcanon #loki x you imagine #loki x wife reader #loki x female reader #loki x f!reader #loki x fem reader #loki x y/n imagines #loki imagine #loki x reader imadine #loki x reader headcanon #loki #loki marvel #loki mcu

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lixxen · 1 year

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Details I have catched after watching Across the Spider-Verse four times:

(spoilers UTC)

Miguel telling Gwen and Peter B he's only going to keep Miles in his little bubble for two or three days so the event can pass

Hobie calling Peter B "the Ultimate Spider-Man", referencing that he's 616

Miguel having heart pupils while watching his monitors, specifically watching Gabriella

Popsicle Spider-Man is in the movie

Miguel doesn't bare his fangs at Miles until the final part. Only claws

Rio has green eyes in 42

Miles STILL doesn't know what Comic Con is

Therapist Spider-Man does have a diploma with his name on it (I don't remember it)

The frownie face on the dead 42 spider label

Spot clearing the room of the 50101 collider so no one else gets hurt (I noticed this the first time but no one mentioned it yet)

Miguel has freckles on his back when we see it for .01 seconds

The Spot is actually looking at the chess game and probably about to make a move before Miles drags him away at the beginning fight

In Gwen's backstory, as we watch Cptn. Stacy walk towards the scene, a man walks into the road but gets pushed behind the barriers by an officer

"I'm not your guy in a chair" is probably a direct reference to the fans calling Ganke that and forcing him into Ned's role from the MCU [EDIT: I KNOW he was originally that in the comics. It's a meta joke. They know he used to be before Ned, but people were being obnoxious]

Ned is Peter's bully I'm Gwen's universe

There's a Spider-Man holding the cat variant on the train at the end

We actually get to see the deleted Spot intro scene on Miguel's monitor, but not the cut end credit (since it hasn't happened)

Miguel actually isn't a bloodthirsty dick until Miles runs. He's being rather nice to Miles considering everything until the end (my friend brought this up)

The "I actually heard he's Dominican" (in response to Rio saying Spider-Man is Puerto Rican) is a meta joke

I hate the AM I hate the PM is a reference to the prime minister and mornings. Not everyone caught that apparently

#spider man across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spider man across the spiderverse spoilers #spiderverse #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #the spot #spot atsv #atsv #miles morales #hobie brown #gwen stacy

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literaryavenger · 6 months

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Meet The Guardians Of The Galaxy

Summary: The Avengers meet the Guardians of the Galaxy for the first time.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: I'm not sure what this is, but I was just thinking how it might go if the Avengers met the Guardians of the Galaxy. It started with the reader cooing at Groot and Bucky being jealous and this is what came out, lol, hope you like it! Needless to say, this doesn't follow the MCU timeline, like basically all of my other stories. Don't ask me how Thor knows the Guardians, the bitch just do. I also just needed Bucky fluff, like always, and I'm really happy how it turned out! Like always I appreciate asks and messages and am always up for it if you have any ideas.

Masterlist

By this point you’re very aware that there’s life on other planets, that the universe is a place much bigger than you ever imagined. Working with the Avengers allows you to see so many things that you never thought could possibly even exist.

Super soldiers, superheroes, enhanced individuals, even Thor himself is a demi-god from literally a different planet.

This particular demi-god is the reason why today you and the rest of the team find yourselves in the common room of the Avengers Compound, a spaceship casually parked in your yard.

They call themselves the Guardians of the Galaxy: Peter Quill, Gamora, Rocket, Nebula, Drax and Mantis, literal aliens currently bickering amongst themselves because they came to earth to visit Thor the wrong day, resulting in Thor not being home for their arrival.

"Is that a plushie?" you ask, a little confused, pointing at a little teddy bear-like thing on Quill’s shoulder and effectively ending their search for who is at fault for their mistake.

He looks even more confused than you and asks "What the hell is a plushie? This is Groot, he’s a Flora Colossi."

You decide, for my own peace of mind, to ignore the latin and instead focus on the cute little thing on his shoulder who is now moving and looking at you weirdly.

"I am Groot." he says in the cutest voice ever.

"Oh my god, you're just adorable!" You say, reaching your finger out for him to hold, freaking out at his cuteness.

"I remember when you used to talk to me like that…" you hear Bucky mumble behind you, which makes you laugh and, with your attention still completely on Groot, you tell him "God, you really are a needy bitch, Barnes." at which everybody laughs.

"Yeah? And you’re just a bi-"

"Hey!" you basically yell, interrupting him and startling Groot.

"I’m kidding!" he quickly says, putting up his hands in defeat. With one last glare at Bucky, your attention turns back to Groot.

"I am Groot!" he says again.

"I know honey, you said that." you tell him.

"I am Groot." he says, yet again, at which Sam answers "Yeah, you’re Groot, got it."

Groot says "I am Groot." again and, before Sam can say something that you're sure is gonna be very rude, you turn to the Guardians and ask "Why does he keep saying that?"

Rocket is the one to answer "Well, he don't know talking good like me and you. So his vocabulistics is limited to I and am and Groot. Exclusively in that order."

His answer leaves you all a little dumbfounded but again, for your own sanity, you all seem to decide to let it go.

Instead Bruce asks "So how do you understand him?"

"We speak Groot." Nebula says like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"How can you speak ‘Groot’ if he says literally the same three words, in the exact same order, in the same way every time?" Tony asks, starting to get a little frustrated, probably because the genius can’t do something that seems to come really easy to a bunch of space idiots.

"We manage." Quill simply says.

At this point Groot reaches his little hands towards you, signaling that he wants to be picked up, so, before Tony can make any sarcastic comment, you look at Quill and ask, excitement clear on your face "Can I?" while pointing at an awaiting Groot.

"Sure." He says, and you very carefully pick him up and put him on your shoulder.

"Be careful not to move too fast, he’ll hold onto your hair for dear life." Gamora warns you.

"Noted." you say giggling a little when Groot sticks his tongue out to Gamora, then she does the same to him, making everyone else laugh too.

"Buck, look how cute he is." you coo at Groot who's playing with your finger.

"’s not that cute…" he says quietly but you hear him, and apparently so does Groot because he says "I am Groot." in a very annoyed tone that prompts a chorus of whoas and protests from the guardians.

"The acorns on you, kid!" Quill says, and everybody just knows he said some really bad words to Bucky.

"Who even taught you that word?!" Rocket sounds like an exasperated parent.

"I am Groot."

"What do you mean, Drax taught you?! WHY WOULD YOU TEACH HIM THAT?"

"The small tree asked." Drax says unbothered.

"Just because he asks doesn't mean you have to teach him dirty words!"

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"It's really common sense, Drax." Gamora interjects, calmer than Rocket.

"I am Groot."

"See, even Groot knows you don’t have common sense, Drax, that’s why he asked you." Quill says.

"I am Groot."

"I am not stupid, tree!" Drax glares at Groot.

"See, he’s not cute. He’s a disrespectful little shit!" Bucky says, also glaring at poor Groot.

"I am Groot." the guardians snicker, leaving the rest of you confused.

"What? What did he say?" you're too curious not to ask as Groot is now glaring back at Bucky.

"He said he doesn’t understand how a sweet person like you is with someone like him." Nebula translates, earning some gasps and snickers from everyone else too.

You look at Bucky trying hard not to laugh and he looks like he's about 5 seconds away from murdering Groot.

He takes a step towards you but Groot, still on your shoulder, makes the cutest little growl and starts flinging one of his arms around in Bucky’s direction, the other one holding to your hair so as to not fall.

"Oh, he’s ready to fight a bitch." you say unable to hold in your laughter any longer and the others follow you.

"What?" you turn around and Drax is giving you a confused look.

"What?" you say, calming down from your laughter.

"I do not understand. He does not resemble a female dog." he looks at Bucky and then back at you.

"He- I don- What?" you’re as confused as you’ve ever been, everybody else’s faces mirroring your own.

"His people are completely literal, he doesn’t understand metaphors." Rocket explains.

"Oh… fun." Tony says, still a little confused.

"Is it though?" you hear Gamora mumble, before Mantis starts giggling.

"It is!" she says with the joy of a kid on christmas morning.

"It’s really not." Nebula says casually, and from that the Guardians start bickering amongst each other.

You look at Groot who’s still on the warpath with Bucky and then at Rocket, the only one not saying anything.

He meets your eyes and simply says. "This is what I gotta live with."

"Oh, poor little racoon." you coo at him while laughing and that seems to stop the bickering.

"Hey, I am no racoon!" Rocket tells you defensively.

"I am Groot." Rocket groans and Quill snickers.

"Groot’s right, he’s a trash panda." he says knowing the people of earth will know why that’s funny.

Some of the Avengers laugh, but you gasp trying to hide your amusement for Rocket’s sake.

"You know, you might be right, Buck. He’s not that cute and innocent after all." you turn to your boyfriend, who gives you a slight pout.

"I’m cuter than him, right"- he asks you with those puppy eyes he knows make you melt.

"Aww, of course you are, baby." you give him a kiss on the cheek, almost forgetting about Groot on your shoulder until he talks again.

"I am Groot." the Guardians “aww” and coo at him but before you can ask, Mantis explains. "He says he understands now why you’re together."

"He says he can see how much you two love each other." Gamora finishes.

You smile at Groot and he smiles back before making the cutest yawn, looking at Bucky and doing grabby hands at him.

Bucky looks at you and you take his hand and guide it towards where Groot is, he’s uncertain but when Groot climbs on his hand Bucky looks almost like a little kid seeing a butterfly up close for the first time.

He brings Groot against his chest and the little tree gets comfortable and falls asleep almost immediately, while everyone else in the room coos at the two.

"This might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen." you whisper, not wanting to wake up Groot, and Bucky looks up at you and flashes a smile bright enough to light up the whole of New York.

"I guess he is kind of cute." he says looking back down at Groot’s sleeping form, leaving everyone else snickering as quietly as they can, while he imagines how it would be to be like this one day with a baby that’s his and yours, and you can’t help but think the same thing.

Part 2

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liyawritesss · 1 year

Note

hmm riri finding the perfect ring for you and then proposing hmmmm

ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ɪ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀꜱᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴜᴅ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ

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

Type: Drabble

Word Count: 1k

Synopsis: Normally vows are made at the altar, but Riri just can’t seem to wait till your decked out in white to swear her life to you.

Warnings: mild cursing

A/N: This is honestly such a cute ask….i love Riri being a hopeless romantic and when she finds that one person she knows she’s gonna be with, there’s nothing stopping her from loving you in the way a wife would

Tags: @6-noir @playhousedistee @shuririsdefenseattorney @shuriszn @venusdusse @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 @killmongerskeepermain @riri-red-car

“I have a question.”

It’s the first thing said that breaks the silence that had been looming in Riri’s room for the past hour. It was a comfortable silence, spent with the two of you laying in each other's arms. You’d snuggled up under Riri’s side as she was entranced in a pretty intense basketball game on her gaming console, you busying yourself by watching TikToks on your phone when she had opened the floor for a conversation.

“Yeah?” You respond, still entranced in your phone.

Riri took a pause, her fingers stilling on her controller. She bites her lip, choosing the next words carefully.

“What does a ring mean to you?”

You find yourself stilling with your scrolling as well, eyebrows furrowing as you tear your eyes from your screen to look up at the girl you were cuddled under. Her eyes had stayed glued to the television screen; probably because if Riri were to return your gaze, the practiced prose she had conjured up would have flown out the window.

“What do you mean?” You asked, rightfully confused by her choice of words. A second passes before Riri completely pauses her game to direct her attention to you.

“If I got you a ring, what would it mean to you?”

Many people would say that nineteen was too young to know the person you’d want to spend forever with. At nineteen, you’re supposed to be finishing your first year of college. At nineteen, you’re supposed to be partying with your friends, drinking the night away, figuring out what you want your twenties to look like.

At 19, you’re supposed to be taking risks. But Riri has had enough of taking risks.

You’d been the first good thing to happen to Riri in a long time. Since the death of her best friend. Since the whole ordeal with Wakanda and Talokan. And in the two years of knowing you, and the year of dating you, if anything had become more certain to the young engineer, it was that the way she felt about you was the kind of love her mother and step-father had. The kind of love you could feel from miles away, intense and all-knowing. And she had no intention of letting it go.

“I…I would love it, obviously,” you say, “i love anything you get me, Riri, even though I keep telling you I’on need nothin’-”

“-because having me is enough, yeah, yeah- that’s not the point.”

You move to sit up, and Riri helps you, snaking an arm around your waist, discarding her controller to the side as she puts all her attention on you now. She swears the thumping of her heart can be heard outside her body, it being so harsh and profound in her chest that it almost feels as if it shakes her being with each pump of blood in and out of the organ.

“What would it mean to you if I got you a ring?”

You took a moment, letting the thoughts swirl in your mind, trying to conjure up a response that would satisfy her. There isn’t a word imaginable that would describe the absolute joy you’d be in if the purpose of said jewelry piece was for what you thought it was for.

You took one of Riri’s hands into your own, the caramel velvet of her skin beautifully clashing with your own, molding together as if crafted to belong together.

“It would mean the world to me,” you say, and you’re sure you had more words to say, but once your eyes lock with hers, they get lost in your throat. Perhaps it was the intensity of her stare, and the amount of love they’ve always had for you, or perhaps it’s the way she gently pulls her hand from yours to rest under your chin, focusing your attention onto her, “why?”

Because I have a promise ring under my pillow with our marriage date engraved inside the band. Because I love you fucking much I can’t see life without you anymore. I’ve lost too much. I can’t lose you. I want to promise to be with you until we can make it official.

“Look under my pillow over there,” Riri hums.

There’s a tightness that rises in your chest; a good kind of tightness, anticipation for what you would find. The sound of rustling sheets fill the room as you reach up towards the head of the bed, a hand diving under the feather stuffed pillows, fishing around until your fingers curl around something small, cube like, velvet. You almost stall for a moment, but the hand on your lower back is a reminder that the anticipation you feel is maximized by ten for the engineer behind you. So you pull back, and with you comes the tiny jewelers box, as well as what you know to be inside of it.

A silence fills the room as your gaze switches between Riri and examining the velvet box in your hand.

“It ain’t the real thing yet, but-” Riri begins, her hand slipping the box from yours and into her own, opening the top to reveal the ring inside. It takes a minute for you to recognize that it’s the same ring you’d been gawking at in one of the jewelry stores window displays downtown a month prior. If your calculations were correct, that ring would have cost her at least a band; and if she got herself one as well, then more.

She takes the ring from it’s plush white crevice inside the box, holding it up for the both of you to see, “-I figured it’d be enough til we get everything right.”

It takes everything in you to hold back the tears swelling in your eyes, begging to fall from your lids. Speaking would have surely opened the floodgates as well. All you could do was allow her to hold your hand as she slipped the jewelry onto your ring finger, fitting perfectly onto it.

“I ain’t letting you go, (Y/N),” Riri proclaims, as one hand interlocks with your now ringed hand and the other fishes under her hoodie to reveal the silver chain, which has another ring hanging from it, as you suspected, “but I swear when I get my shit together, there won’t be anything that’s gon’ stop me from asking you.”

And yet, with the glistening in your eyes, and the tightness of which you hold her hand, Riri already knows your answer.

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

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yanderes-galore · 7 months

Note

Romantic yandere concept for Stephen Strange from the MCU, please? Thank you! :>

Okay! It's been awhile since I've seen Doctor Strange's movies so I utilized the wiki to help me out. Hope you enjoy :)

This is me letting brainrot run wild with random HCs, no real plot exists.

Yandere! Stephen Strange Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Trauma, Overprotective behavior, Manipulation, Isolation/Kidnapping, Fear of loss, Paranoia, Stalking, Slight jealousy, Dubious/Forced relationship.

Strange used to be a very selfish and egotistical man, yet overtime he improves to be quite the hero.

I imagine he'd be a very powerful yandere.

Strange would want to make sure you're kept safe as he's scared of loss due to his past trauma.

His fear of loss is what drives his yandere behavior.

It makes him controlling and paranoid.

He is also shown to be emotional at times and doesn't want to hurt others.

Strange is a pacifist and tries not to hurt or kill others.

However, he is one to go to great lengths to protect you.

He's willing to break his morals to do what he feels is right and would be a yandere hard to get away from.

He'd never want to hurt you and would feel bad if he did.

Strange may be a yandere who's jealous at times but tries not to show it.

Yet you can tell by the stern look in his eyes he's annoyed.

Speaking of being annoyed, Strange would definitely express frustration if others kept trying to be close to you or you kept ignoring/fighting him.

This concept is less about how you met and more how he acts.

Strange would definitely be one to keep you with him in the New York Sanctum.

It's there where he feels it's the safest to keep you.

Strange would struggle with telling you why he's scared about your safety.

He won't tell you until later on in his "perceived relationship" that he'll confide in you with his worries.

In the start of his obsession he would allow you to be your own person.

Strange is able to check in on you anywhere and that's how he often visits.

With one simple portal he can check to make sure you're okay, it eases his fears.

Using portals keeps him at bay for the most part.

You most likely see Strange as a friend and hero.

You probably often visit him at the Sanctum to chat.

Strange is always happy to see you... he may not even think his feelings are romantic until later on.

That or he fears the fact they may be romantic.

Strange is one of the Marvel yanderes that would probably keep his darling the safest.

If you're in danger it takes one call and he's opening a portal and dragging you through.

Sometimes you don't even have to call... he just seems to know. (He's stalking you through portals)

Strange is indeed controlling at times.

Even before he moves you to the Sanctum he still feels like he should have a say in what you do.

It often causes arguments and Strange tries to give you space.

Strange used to not be caring... but when he meets you, he is.

I imagine this would be because he meets you sometime after the first movie.

When he meets up with you he'll offer you your favorite drink and tries to be accommodating and affectionate.

For the most part he isn't violent due to his wish to stay a pacifist.

Strange wouldn't "kidnap" you... at first.

Yet if you were in danger and about to be hurt or injured... Strange feels that's okay to use fatal force.

He'll try to make it quick though as he holds no joy in doing it.

At first he'd try to convince you that the Sanctum is the safest place for you.

It's when you refuse that Strange feels he may have to be more forceful to keep you safe.

The idea of losing you and failing to save you is his biggest fear.

You can tell it affects him as sometimes he'll sit and pull you into his lap... only to not let go.

It almost seems like he's shaking.

You are probably the most precious person to him.

He'd give up everything to keep you safe and beside him.

Each kiss and touch is passionate... he apologizes deeply if he hurts you with what he does.

He knows you may be unhappy stuck in the Sanctum.

Yet he always tries to be near you, he may even take you on dates around the world with his portals.

Strange wants you to know he cares.

He does what he does because he loves you.

Every sacrifice is just to keep you both safe if not happy.

Strange is happy he's become a more selfless person when he met you.

He feels he's changed for the better, that he's happy to be your hero and guardian.

However... in ways he's still selfish.

He's determined that he's the one for you.

Strange doesn't think you'll be happier with anyone else.

Why wouldn't you be happy with him?

He understands he used to be a bad person.

Yet now... isn't he better?

He can protect you and the universe.

Could anyone else do that as well as he can?

Strange would isolate you.

Deep down he's still selfish enough to be possessive of the one he loves.

He already keeps you locked away in the Sanctum, of course he doesn't like others around you.

Strange is like this due to trauma, both from childhood and maybe even due to Thanos if this takes place after that time.

This is what makes him controlling and overly protective.

Strange would rather go through anything else but losing you.

If he lost you like he did his sister, mentor, and friends... he may not handle it.

As a result he prefers to prevent such a reality from ever happening.

Anytime he sees you he reassures you it's the only way to keep you alive and happy.

He kisses your lips and skin while holding you... telling you how much he loves you.

Yet you never seem to be happy due to the lack of freedom.

If you tried to escape he can track you down with ease before dragging you back.

Strange is dedicated and determined to fulfill his goals.

If he feels this is the right way to keep you unharmed...

He's going to stubbornly stick to it until he kicks the bucket.

#yandere marvel #yandere mcu #yandere stephen strange #yandere doctor strange

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msfeaths · 10 months

Text

TUTOR

warnings : none

pairing : peter parker (mcu) x reader

summary : when peter parker simply fell in love with you...

a/n : make any requests you want ! i'll be glad to do them if i can :)

The first time Peter Parker ever saw you, it was mid-february, when you juste came in and sat in the same classroom as he was. Professor Harrington introduced you as a new student, giving his speech saying people had to be nice.

Oh Peter wanted to be nice with you. But he immediately thought he would never had a chance. Of course, your hair looked so smooth, you seemed brilliant, and after a while he noticed the way this cute dimple would show up any time you smiled.. You were so pretty to his eyes, even too good to be true.

But you sat next to this other guy. Obviously you just sat at the first seat you saw, not knowing anybody. But he started talking. He was much more a talkative person as Peter ever would be, much more popular but also much more an asshole. And you noticed that quickly. Peter knew you did, because he kept observing you any time he had the chance, and he saw the way you'd back up a little when this other guy would talk to your face. The way you avoided catching his sight. You did stay in his friends group though, and that's what Peter didn't understand.

He was just thinking about it, at lunch, while Ned was telling him about this new game he cracked yesterday. "Hey, are you even listening to me right now ?" he asked, turning his head in the same direction Peter had. "Ah, I see" , Ned kept going.

Peter would sometimes - pretty often - daydream about how would it be to date you. Would you agree to spend lunch time with him and Ned ? Go to his place ? To hold his hand in public ? Or even kiss him ?

"Why don't you go and talk to her ?" asked a girl who was sitting at the same table. MJ constantly watched as Peter was almost drooling on himself just by seeing you.

"W-What ? Why would I go-" he started before getting cut off. "Come on, not to me" she answered. "You've been addicted to {Y/N} since day one". Peter frowned, denying, but he knew this could never change her mind. "MJ's got a point, dude. And maybe you have a chance with {Y/N}, who knows !?" Ned said and his friend immediately looked around to see if anyone might have heard. "Shh Ned are you crazy ?? And don't say stupid things like that.. Both of you". "Whatever", MJ replied, "But it seems like she wouldn't say no if you asked her to try a new friends group. Her's pretty lame".

Peter slowly raised an eyebrow and looked back at you, to see you walking in his direction. He was wondering, what was happening ? Were you actually going towards him ? You met his eyes and gently smiled, not really knowing how to act with him.

"Hi" you started when you reached his table. Peter looked at Ned who was way more excited to see you talking to him. He elbowed him so he could answer you. "Hum, h-hi ?" "Can we do anything for you ? Can Peter do anything for you ?" Ned immediately asked to help his friend. MJ rolled her eyes just by hearing the conversation.

"Yeah, actually" you smiled. "Mr Harrington told me to talk to you... It seems like you've been chosen to be my tutor. Im Y/N, by the way". You didn't really like asking for this - even though you did not really choose it - but Peter immediately nodded, shyly but still. "Yeah -yes of course no problem !" he replied. "Great ! Thank you. We can meet later at the library ?" you proposed. "The library is closed this week, what a shame !! Though, you should go to Peter's. The.. Temperature is great there. You know, to work..." Ned tried to keep going, making you smirk a little bit. You noticed how Peter's eyes suddenly became wide and the red colouring his cheeks. "Oh, well if you don't mind... You know what ? Just text me later today" you gave him your number under his flabbergasted eyes. He nodded and you went to class after smiling at him one last time. It is probably that exact smile that made him realise how screwed he was.

Peter did text you later that day, sending you his address and how to get there from school. You suggested to join him there at 6:00pm to what he agreed.

You arrived in front if his flat in Queens and called him so he could open, and there you were, on his dining room table, tons of books spread out next to you both. He spent a whole hour explaining all the little details that were important in every chapter that you've missed. Good for him, you were a fast learner, something that made him like you even more. He would ask you some questions to check if you were following, and you always were. That kept going until his aunt came back home. "Hey Pete, I've been trying to reach you out for an hour now and you- oh", she smiled widely, "Hello. Excuse me I didn't know you had company", she said, looking at both of you in turn. "May this is Y/N", he said, hoping she wouldn't say anything embarrassing. "Hi, I'm sorry I hope I'm not bothering. Peter is helping me with all the things I've missed at school. I'm a new student".

"No of course it's no problem ! I am always glad to meet Pete's friends. You can even stay for dinner ! Just make sure to tell your parents" she added and didn't wait for your answer before going to another room.

"You don't have to" Peter said, "Stay for dinner, I mean. N-not that I don't want you to stay, I mean you- I don't mind if you stay. At all ! It's just- ugh - if you have anything else to do, don't feel forced to stay here". You smiled at him as an answer before adding "I'd be glad to stay, I don't have any important plans".

So there you were, sitting at the small kitchen table with Peter and his aunt who had just ordered food, since the dish she started had burnt. It was simply pizzas from this place you didn't know, but Peter assured you they were the best.

"There. Start with this one, Joe's an expert at it". And indeed, you were surprised by the amazing taste of this basic pizza. Dinner kept going, and May wanted to know more about you, much to Peter's despair, even though he was interested by anything you were saying.

"From what Peter told me, you quickly made a name for yourself at school. Do you move a lot ?" she asked. "Yeah, actually. I've moved like, 12 times because of my father's job. I repeated a grade because of it" you answered with a sad smile. "Wait you're a year older ?" Peter suddenly said. "Oh no, I skipped a grade in primary school, so it's like it never changed". Peter nodded "Must be hard, I mean, moving all the time".

You looked at him quite surprised. People usually thought you were lucky because you were able to travel and meet a lot of people. Thing is, when you move that much, you don't really have time to get used to the place and make real friends. And it seemed like Peter guessed that. You liked the fact that he wasn't superficial, like a lot of people. So you smiled slightly, letting the cute dimple that he liked make its appearance "Kind of. But it feels like im gonna stick around for a while, this time". And you might didn't know, but at this exact moment, Peter never had been more thrilled.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #marvel #tom holland #tom peter parker #spiderman #love #falling in love #high school peter #peter x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you

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devilfic · 1 year

Text

❝small favor❞

III. peters, peters, peters.

parts: previously / next plot: what’s in a name, anyway? pairing: mcu!peter parker x gn!reader. cw: angst, fluff, lots of feelings, lots of unresolved feelings, protective!peter, a whole lot of overthinking on your part, two steps forward one step back, j jonah jameson jumpscare. words: 4.5k.

a/n: don’t look at me,,, it has been almost THREE years since I updated this series. a lot has changed for peter in the mcu since then....... anyway hope you enjoy ^^

It’s such an ordinary name, “Peter”. There were probably a million Peters in the state of New York alone. Peters of all colors, shapes, sizes. Peters in high school. Peters who were fathers. Peters in punk bands. Peters working bodegas. Peters in retirement. Peters in your house.

Your hand is slack in his grip. His smile wobbles as you stare through your lashes, struggling to comprehend what you’ve just heard. Of course he would spring this on you when you’re least prepared to hear it.

When it becomes evident that you’re just going to sit there gaping like a fish out of water, Spidey releases your hand and backs away. Unconsciously, you follow.

Your knees dig into the arm of the couch, then your feet touch the floor one by one, all the while keeping eye contact with the Spider. Afraid he’ll slip away. He has a wall up all of a sudden. Every time you step too close he puts a little distance between you again.

“That was… not the best time to do that, huh?” Spidey- Peter is all over the place now. Your living room is as familiar to him as the name “Spidey” is to you, yet now both of you were out of your depth with either. “You know when you have a really good idea in your head, and then you say it out loud and it doesn’t sound as good as you planned? But you’ve already said it, so you’ve gotta stick by it-”

“Peter.” He stumbles at the name. So it definitely belonged to him. You feel strange calling him anything other than Spidey, “Why’d you tell me your name?”

“Peter”. Peter worries his bottom lip. You wondered if he did that all the time, discreetly, beneath the mask he’d chosen to leave up this time. “Because... I’m not good at stuff like this. You know? I’ve made a lot of mistakes. Trusted the wrong people, made stupid decisions. One thing they don’t prepare you for in superhero school is how to keep a secret identity. I mean, Iron Man had one for all of two seconds and I- well, I’ve never known life without one. So when I met you, and you never asked or bargained... I knew. You know? Not like when I was a stupid kid and didn’t really know. I knew. Even when you had the chance to unmask me, you never took it. It’s... my name. And it’s a lot. But I trust you.”

He stops worrying his lip. He’s still now, watching you through those prodding white eyes.

It’s weird. A week ago, you only knew the figure that was Spider-Man. Now, in your living room, half his face exposed and his name (such an ordinary name, and still so much) feeling full in your mouth, a boundary had been crossed.

No, not a boundary. A threshold. Your threshold. The threshold of this living room that was so familiar to him as Spider-Man, now being crossed for the first time. As “Peter”.

If Jameson was a fly on the wall, he’d have you tracking down every Peter within an eighty mile radius right about now.

You fall back against the arm of your couch and Peter reaches out to you, fingers outstretched but never confident enough to make contact. You look winded, you’re sure.

The only thing that snaps you out of it is when he pulls down his mask, “It’s late. You really should get some sleep. You’ve got work in the morning, right?”

He’s bouncing backwards, sliding your window up and gracefully climbing out onto your fire escape before you can call out with a weak “Peter!”

But your voice barely echoes after him into the night. He leaps off your fire escape and out of sight by the time you reach your window on shaky legs. His red and blue is nowhere to be seen, as if he’d never been there at all. Your stomach is doing flip after flip and you brace yourself against the window sill for some kind of support.

You’d known him for so long as Spidey—just Spidey—and yet this new name was finding a home on your tongue all the same.

As much as you would have liked to heed Peter’s warning, you, in fact, did not get any sleep.

You’d stayed in a weird, shocked daze from the moment he left, barely having the wits about you to crawl into bed. Even then, you continued to stare off into the dark wondering if, by some magic or cosmic design, you had made all this up in your head. Some mad blogger pretending to know Spider-Man. Know him so well that he kept record of your favorite snacks, had baked with you in your kitchen, had a favorite mug of yours, gave you his name. His real name.

But maybe it wasn’t real? Maybe he’d grown tired of being called Spidey, maybe he wanted to give you an alias that felt more natural? Perhaps he wasn’t a Peter. Maybe he was a Preston or a Pedro...

...but then he said he trusted you. And if Peter was a lie, then that too was a lie. And as much as your frenzied mind would have liked to entertain the idea, the reality was that there was no one else like you to him. What he had started with you had never been done before. Unless he was lying about that too, and Spider-Man never gave the impression he had that kind of time on his hands.

You felt like a little kid, sitting on your hands or busying yourself with menial tasks to distract yourself. He’d been wicked, that Peter, for giving you so much. His voice, his name, his trust. He’d given it all to you willingly. He trusted you. You could slap rhinestones on your forehead and start spinning from the ceiling like a disco ball right now.

Your jitters don’t go unnoticed by your boss, unfortunately, because your name is barked at you the minute you head for your third cup of coffee that afternoon. Nearly spilling it all over yourself, you brace for the inevitable, “Yes, sir?”

Jameson was an irritable man of average stature, but he carried himself like a blimp, inflating the space with his temper and bellow suffocating you all up the walls. He rarely spoke in an octave below a shout, and when he did, he was often working up to it. Your favorite day on the job thus far was when he’d come down with a serious case of strep throat, “Your last article was trash,” he delivers the news as a greeting, giving you no room to argue, “I need you to cover the Stark Charity Ball this Friday.”

You blink, “Me?”

“Am I talking to the coffee machine? Yes, you!”

The Stark Charity Ball had become an annual tradition over the years, an effort on behalf of the late Tony Stark and the surviving Pepper Potts to keep the dream of science alive. The ball was like any other rich person event: full of Forbes’ 30 under 30, the 0.001% of the 1%, and more PhDs in one room than you’d ever reasonably come across in your lifetime. It also wasn’t your scene. You make that clear, “It’s not really my scene.”

Exasperated, Jameson begins walking to his office. You know better than to not follow. “I don’t care if it’s not your scene,” he mocks you, “Jillian’s still out on maternity leave and I don’t trust any other bozos to get me the scoop I need. You, on the other hand, could pass for half-decent. That’s why I need you to make it your scene.”

“But sir, I do crime journalism. I’m not a… ‘stand around and ask billionaires what they think about the stock market’ type of journalist.”

“You won’t be asking about the stock market. You’ll be asking about Wilson Fisk.”

That catches your attention. You pass the threshold of his office, “Fisk? What for?”

Jameson takes a harsh swig of his coffee and starts ruffling one-handed through some files on his desk, “I have a few sources claiming he’ll be at the ball.”

“How’d he even get invited?” By no means was Fisk so socially controversial that being invited to an event like this was unthinkable, but his involvement in the city’s less-than-savory underbelly was more than just rumor. The Pepper Potts wouldn’t entertain that. Tony Stark sure hadn’t.

“He wasn’t, but I trust my sources just like I trust that fat wallet of his to get him through the door. I need you to be there when he is. I’ve got a hunch you’ll get something good. Besides, you won’t be going it alone.” Jameson eyes you excitedly nibbling your thumb nail, his gaze judging, “Still wanna put up a fight about it?”

Damn him, he knew you too well.

“Who’s coming with me?”

Jameson rolls his eyes, “Parker, of course. Despite all his whining. He won’t be on the floor with you all night but he will be there.”

Your interest, already piqued, intensifies. “Parker? You mean the Spidey Stalker?”

As owner of the Web-Blog, the early days of Spider-Man had largely been photographed through citizens on fuzzy phones or street cameras and the news. It wasn’t until someone new had come onto the scene, getting the best pictures of Spidey to date: a (mostly) anonymous freelancer who Jameson exclusively referred to as Parker. You never saw him, even when you tried to.

He sent his photos by email, rarely came by the office, and those of your coworkers that had caught a glimpse had only ever insisted that you weren’t “missing out on anything”. His credit in every article on the web-slinger was simply “P. B. Parker”.

His photos were fucking amazing, and nobody knew anything else about him.

You feel a tingle of curiosity that hadn’t been there before. It would be all too easy, too convenient, if...

“If I’m right—and I always am—Fisk is gonna make a scene and Spider-Man’s gonna have a hand in the pie. He’ll probably swing in and destroy a few million dollars worth of charitable contributions to the needy before ‘saving the day’. Orchestrating the whole thing for good publicity, no doubt...”

You keep your lips sealed on that matter. You’d fought the good fight plenty of times and always managed to come out the loser, somehow. Instead, you think about Parker. How funny would it be if you became friends with the only other person at the Daily Bugle whose contributions in the Spidey community rivaled yours? Maybe you could get him to release some never before seen shots of Spidey for the blog. Or for yourself. But mainly for the blog.

At the very least, meeting him could put that silly thought out of your mind. Among other things. “Is there a budget for my outfit?”

You hear her before she approaches.

In all your time working at the Daily Bugle, you had never seen a hair on Jillian Reyes’ head out of place. She commanded awe whenever she entered a room, taking Jameson’s verbal beatings and spitting them right back at him. She was a powerhouse of a woman with the charm to make her perfect for the culture beat of NYC.

Even now, as her wife struggled to put their newborn to rest, she had a smile about a mile wide waiting for you at the front door. She’s crushing you in a hug before you even get the chance to say hello, “It’s so good to see you! I feel like I haven’t been to the office in forever,” she shoves you back an inch just to look you in the eyes, “tell me: how’s JJ treating you?”

“Like I’ve just handed him a parking ticket.”

Jillian replies with a pitying smile and lets you in. “You know, when JJ told me you’d be taking the charity ball feature, I had a feeling he muscled you into it.”

“I’m sorry for interrupting your time off,” Jillian leads you to her office, your hands wringing each other for something to do, “I just... I’m not exactly built for this kind of thing.”

“Nonsense! You’ve covered plenty of brouhahas in your time. What’s the difference between covering a robbery and a charity ball?”

“A lot, actually. A lot.”

Jillian immediately sits in the nearest chair, looking winded just from the walk here. You take the seat across from her, minding a burp cloth. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of a few Richie Riches. They’ll only bite if you tell them you’re for the taking. All you’ve gotta do is channel that fearlessness you have when you’re covering the crime beat and you’ll be fine.”

“But, Jill, I’m not you. You’re... exciting, and personable, and funny. You can fit in places like that. I’m gonna stick out like a sore thumb. Not to mention that Jameson wants me to keep tabs on Wilson Fisk while I’m there.”

Jillian suddenly lurches forward, her scent of baby powder circling around you, “Wilson Fisk is gonna be there? Maternity leave be damned. I’ll take the article off your hands.”

“Ah, no you will not,” you press your hands to her shoulders as she makes a move to get up, no doubt intent on berating Jameson to let her back early, “you just had a baby. The last place you need to be is in the same room as Kingpin.”

She sinks back into her seat with a pout that could rival her newborn’s. “So... JJ thinks Fisk’s got something planned?” When you nod, her brows draw together in thought, “And he’s making you go all alone?”

“No. Not alone. With... Parker.”

Jillian doesn’t always wear her emotions on her face. With the types of people she interviews, she has to have something of a poker face, but you can see everything when you say Parker’s name.

Her eyes light up like two jades hit by the sun. She scoops your hands up in hers and you try not to focus on the vague stickiness of them. You didn’t want or need to know what part of the baby played a part in it, “The Spidey Stalker? Do you... do you think Spider-Man is gonna show up?”

You swallow much harder than necessary.

The truth was that you had yet to even mention any of this to him. Part of you hoped that Jameson’s sources were wrong and that come Thursday (if the web-slinger found it in him to grace your fire escape once more), he’d fact check the news and that would be that.

But first, you’d have to talk to him. Talk to Peter.

Your paths had crossed a few times in the line of duty but this was Kingpin, the man behind the attack that had started this whole mess with Spidey. His lackeys had done a number on him, you hated to imagine what Fisk could pull in person.

You feel Jillian squeeze your hands and that brings you back to reality. “Maybe. He’s the only one who could stop him if he plans to do something... the only one around to do something.”

Your co-worker’s face has morphed from wonder into worry. For a moment, the way she’s looking at you is almost maternal, “You should really be careful. I love a good story as much as you but JJ sounds sure this’ll get ugly. I don’t care if Parker wants to stick around for Spider-Man, you hightail it outta there as soon as shit hits the fan, okay?”

You know she’s right to warn you. You’d do the same if it was the other way around. “Yeah, of course, Jill.”

But if shit were to hit the fan... did you really want to be anywhere else?

You tell yourself you’re not avoiding the inevitable. You fuss over tomorrow’s outfit and scrub at your nicest shoes, not because you need something to busy your hands or your mind, but because you’ve got to be ready. You keep your back to the window while you iron, not because you’d probably lose hours just staring out into the dark waiting for him to swing by, but because you... well, you would think of a better excuse later.

Time began to tick away as you consumed yourself in tasks. Sometimes, when your skin prickled in that telltale way, you’d look to the windows, but it was hard to see anything but your reflection and the speckles of city light swallowing the last rays of sunset.

At some point, when your eyes began to imagine his shape on the dark of your fire escape, you forced yourself to the kitchen for tea.

Tea (and hot cocoa and coffee) had become a staple of your evenings together, the method kneaded into your hands until eventually, frustratingly, you found yourself staring at a Hulkitty cup with no idea if you should bother filling it up. He liked cream and honey in his, it’d suck to leave it out for too long.

Just as you’re debating putting it out of your line of sight, the lighting in your apartment dims.

It’s silent, other than the kettle bubbling and the ever-present drone of the city. You look past the kitchen and into the living room where the overhead light’s been shut off and the window left open a crack. All that you can see is all that the lamp light touches.

Then there’s a knock. It’s timid, so quiet you probably wouldn’t have heard it if you were still stuck in your own thoughts. For some reason, you’re glued to your spot.

The shape your brain had been imagining was there again.

When you continue to stand still, the window opens, revealing one leg after the other until he’s standing in your living room. Mask down. You think that the awkwardness is on behalf of your last encounter at first, until... “Don’t go.”

Something is off. Spidey—the hero you met first—had never sounded so severe. Even when the city beat him down, he managed to crack a joke. Put a little humor in his voice. Keep the tone light, make you think that even the things that hurt him couldn’t keep him down for long.

Peter—the hero before you now—didn’t bother. Perhaps he’d unmasked more than just his name that night.

You leave the kitchen, kettle abandoned, tip-toeing around the last time you’d seen each other to get to the heart of his words, “What are you talking about?”

“The ball. Don’t go.” He shifts in place. Something else you’d learned about Spidey was that he couldn’t stay still for long. There’s still a whole room of space between the two of you and you see him rock forward onto the balls of his feet like a runner preparing to take off at the sound of a whistle.

The longer you stand there, confused, the more he fidgets. “How... did you know I was going?”

He stops moving. His hands (that he’d been clenching at his sides) splayed out on his thighs. Whatever he’s thinking, his brain can’t be moving faster than yours right now.

Your first thought would be a betrayal if he knew. There’s a small voice in your head (your reporter voice, the one that makes you push where your common sense tells you not to) that tells you there are camera lenses somewhere, his doing. A fail-safe, perhaps. He had the technological repertoire of one of the world’s greatest minds at his disposal. He could bug an apartment. He had plenty of time to do it, and how else would he know something that only Jameson, Jillian, and Parker should know?

Your second thought hits you like a ton of bricks, more fantastical and breathtaking. There were probably a million Peters in the state of New York alone, but how many-

“Someone told me.”

You blink, “Who?”

“...Parker.”

“Parker. P. B. Parker.”

“Uh-huh.”

“At the Daily Bugle?”

“Yup.”

“The Spidey Stalker?”

He makes something of a choked noise, “He’s not a stalker. I... let him take pictures of me. I give him the exclusive and he makes me look pretty damn good. That’s it.”

A disbelieving breath slips past your lips. You think back to every photo that you’d seen of his, some you’d even lifted and used on the Web-Blog, and how unbelievably... photogenic they were. Staged, some could argue.

“I thought I was your source at the Daily Bugle.”

“You are!”

“Your only source. How long have you and Parker been... working together?”

“Couple months, maybe? Not as long as you and me. I promise.” Peter surges forward, unable to keep himself still any longer. He takes your shoulders in his hands and the warmth from his palms are welcome against the bitter breeze. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was just short of apologizing, “I know it’s a little weird. It feels weird.”

But you think about it, about how weird it should feel, and how it’s really more funny than weird, “All the reporters in the city, and you choose the paper that hates you. You’re more of a masochist than I first thought.”

Peter’s hand loosens, slips down your bicep a hair. “I didn’t choose the Daily Bugle. I chose you.”

You look away. “And Parker?”

He releases you. Bounces back on his toes, starts admiring the cracks in the wall. “What can I say? The guy needs the money. It was like looking in the mirror.”

“Peter,” you whisper, and his head whips to you before you’ve even drawn the breath to say his name, “you know if you... if you need anything...” I will help you, I will always help you, “there’s a whole city out there that wants to help you.”

The eyes of his suit softens.

You’d been tossing his name around in your head ever since he’d told you, wondering how long it’d take you to get used to using it, and yet repeatedly, consistently, it fell from your lips so easily.

It was funny. You’d been so worried about the conversation you’d have to have about all this, and you’d broken the ice without even thinking about it. “I’m sorry about freezing up last time. I just wasn’t expecting that... I mean, it’s not like I think you don’t trust me, it’s just... it’s your name.”

Peter shrugs, “And it’s you.”

Your throat closes up at that. The simplicity of it, the certainty of it. Your breath shudders, “It’s that easy?”

Peter laughs, muffled by the mask, but he might as well have been right beside you, it sounded so clear and light, “I meant what I said. I trust you with it. And I’d like to maybe one day trust you with more. But this whole, uh, superhero thing? It’s dangerous. I know they say that all the time in comic books but I don’t want to lose this. Lose you.” You hope his super-hearing can’t pick up how your heart stutters, clenches in your chest. “So don’t go.”

You swear that you have nothing close to Spidey senses of your own, but even without seeing his face, you can feel the tension rolling off of him in waves, “I have to. If Kingpin is gonna be there, I should be too. And I know what you’re thinking-”

“Oh, you have no idea-”

“-but this is a big deal, Peter. You mentioned before that Kingpin might be planning something big. This... this might be it.”

His voice quirks up an octave, cracking in exasperation, “And you want to be there? Where the big thing is supposed to happen?”

“I mean, don’t you think I oughta?”

“And risk getting hurt in the crossfire? Hell no. No job is worth your life.”

“Peter-” the name gets easier and easier to say the more you say it, “...you and I both know there’s no way in hell I can turn this down. Jameson would have my head.”

“Then let him have it. I’ll web you up a new one. Early Christmas gift.”

A shocked laugh leaves you at that, melting some of the tension in the room. Even Peter’s shoulders sag at the sound. “I really appreciate it... but no deal. I’m going.”

You watch the way Peter’s eyes narrow in thought. You can practically hear the gears whirring and turning behind that mask of his, unable to accept the situation for what it is. You’d only known him for so long, but his stubbornness truly knew no bounds. He had to have the solution to everything. He always had to save the day. “Why can’t you just be a friendly, neighborhood blogger and do your crime-fighting at home?”

Snorting, you roll your eyes, “Did you give Parker this much of a hard time, too?”

In the same moment, the long-forgotten kettle starts singing on the stovetop. Peter glances past you into the kitchen and latches onto the kettle handle with a sharp thwip!, dragging it to another eye until the hissing stops. He then beats you to the kitchen and grabs cups out of the cupboard, your cups (he even searches for the one you happen to favor, moves the other mugs out of the way until he spots it), and starts mixing the tea. You notice he memorized how you like yours.

You watch him, silently for a time, letting him feel his way around the kitchen having seen you do it a million times before. It doesn’t really hit you until this moment that perhaps Peter knows you better than you’d ever realized.

“You should come.” You decide, suddenly.

“Hm?” Peter hums, barely looking up from the fridge as he forages around your top shelf for the milk.

“To the ball. If you’re worried about things going wrong. Maybe you should come.”

Peter finds his treasure and returns to his Hulkitty mug, “What, in a Spidey-themed suit and tie?”

“I mean, maybe not at first... maybe you could come as yourself.”

You get the feeling he’s side-eyeing you even with his head turned to the backsplash. “With what invitation?”

“You’re telling me Spider-Man is afraid of a little breaking and entering?”

“Afraid of Pepper Potts? Absolutely.” He turns and hands you your mug, careful to hold the handle to you so you don’t burn yourself.

“But didn’t you know Iron Man? Didn’t he know you? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind extending an invitation to you, especially if there’s an emergency. And, and! If Kingpin doesn’t show, that means you get to let loose for a night.” You try not to startle too much when he flips up the bottom of his mask to drink.

“I think I’d have a better vantage point from outside anyway.”

“Maybe, but still...” You frown, realizing that Peter’s shoulders start to tense again, “No. You’re right. And you’ll still be there. Maybe me and Parker can sneak you a glass of champagne on the rooftop or something.”

Peter’s lip twitches up into a smile, holding his mug to his lips, “No drinking and swinging, sorry.”

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