#not avengers endgame compliant | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

monaisme · 1 year

Text

One Week Later- Chapter 14

This is the sequel to my one shot, “The Battle,” which can be found here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30027636

As it’s been more than a while, you can also find the rest of this story here… if you’d like to refresh your memory:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30168360

Please enjoy!

Chapter Fourteen

It was going to be such a good day. Peter had been so sure. He was feeling better... like honestly better than the day before. His headache was gone, his ribs were good (enough, but no one really needed to know differently), the gash in his leg was on its way to gone and by the end of day, he’d managed to choke down a full, albeit normal sized meal for dinner for the ultimate win. Yes, his temperature had crept up barely a bit toward the end of the day but his regular super-meds had taken care of that super quick and he’d been so hopeful that he’d be able to leave the med bay—and try to figure out what his new normal was going to look like.

He’d been discharged literal minutes earlier and then, of course, Peter, by his mere existence, had jinxed it all. Parker Luck ruined everything.

“It is regrettable, Mr. Stark, but until we can be certain that Mr. Parker’s fever has fully resolved, we must deny access to her room. And I do understand that this is upsetting, but my job as her primary physician is to make sure Mrs. Parker receives the best possible care and as such...“

Mr. Stark sighed in sudden resignation. “I know, I know. I get it. Thank you, Dr. Bonwick. We’ll leave you to it, but please...” His voice trailed off.

Dr. Bonwick seemed to understand. “As I have been doing thus far, I will keep you up to date on her condition should any changes arise.” The man smiled sympathetically over Mr. Stark’s shoulder to address Peter, who stood awkwardly behind him. “I will also confer with Dr. Cho so as to schedule any follow up appointments in a manner that will allow for visits as soon as a full 48 hours without fever has passed... with your permission, of course?” He looked to Mr. Stark for that confirmation.

Nodding tersely, Mr. Stark grunted out his thanks and turned toward Peter. “Alright, kid, let’s get out of here,” and guided Peter back towards him room at the end of the hall.

Peter didn’t say anything as he shuffled along. What could he say?

Mr. Stark, however, had some thoughts to share.

“What a jerk.” Mr. Stark blurted out as soon as the door to the med bay room closed.

Peter turned his back to Mr. Stark as he blinked back tears. “Be nice, Mr. Stark. He’s just making sure she doesn’t get worse, is all. I get it.”

“Yah, yah. I get it, too,” Mr. Stark huffed in frustration, “but that doesn’t change what I said. He should have said something sooner. I mean, you’d been here all day yesterday, too, for cryin’ out loud. Waiting until you were heading down the hall to say hi was not okay.”

Peter sniffled, and rubbed at his tired eyes, “Yeah, well, the fever was last night though, and he doesn’t have to be nice. He just has to be the best, right? And you said he is, so if that means he’s a,” Peter searched for a word, “...turd, then so be it. It’s whatever Aunt May needs, right? And you’ve got enough tech kickin’ around to make sure we can still see each other, even if it’s not in person.”

Peter could feel Mr. Stark’s eyes on his back. “Of course we do! Geez, kid. What kind of a genius do you take me for? Oh, and by the way, way to be the bigger person. Darn it, were you always this mature?”

Peter couldn’t help the choked laugh as he slid back into their familiar banter, “Well, between you and me, one of us had to be.”

Mr. Stark chuckled as he came up behind Peter and patted him tenderly on the shoulder. “You won’t hear an argument out of me. Now,” Mr. Stark stepped back and surveyed the room. “Let’s grab your stuff and get you out of here, shall we?”

Mr. Stark must have noticed Peter’s subtle nod, as he gripped his shoulder one last time. “Fantastic. I’ll go check the bathroom really quick while you grab those books Pep brought down... Oh! And I think she brought down one of her fancy blankets from the penthouse. Could you do a quick check for that, too? I’d rather we not leave it behind.”

Peter nodded again and waited as Mr. Stark’s footsteps receded into the small bathroom attached to his med bay room, then blinked slow, and pressed the heels of his hands hard into his eyes. “C’mon, Peter, pull it together. You can do this,” he muttered to himself. “Just get upstairs and you’ll be good... just get upstairs...”

Peter’s brief self-talk was immediately interrupted.

“Well, that took all of two seconds, bud. Congrats on not being disgusting. I’ve got your toothbrush and such ready to go.” Mr. Stark said as he stepped out of the private bathroom attached to Peter’s room, zipping up a travel bag. He’d obviously noticed that Peter hadn’t moved from his spot because he handed Peter the bag and manoeuvred around him. “Here, let me do a quick check before we go so no one has to run back down later. ‘kay?”

How could the man have so much energy after everything that had happened to him?

Peter had finally managed to convince Mr. Stark to sleep in his own bed last night (Did no one else noticed how exhausted Mr. Stark looked?) and so he hadn’t been privy to Peter’s marathon of nightmares, thank goodness for that small miracle. Besides, Peter and Mr. Stark had both figured that after a day filled with colouring books and board games with Morgan, plus an 80s movie marathon to entice Peter into taking much needed naps, that everyone would be ready for a good night’s rest so the next day could be fresh start for everyone—barring any other weird medical drama overnight.

Stupid fever.

That Peter had spent the eventual fever-free night thrashing about as he tried to fend off nightmare after nightmare of Thanos as the titan obliterated Queens and watched helplessly as Mr. Stark and Ben, and then May and Ben, and then Ben, and Ben, and forever Ben who was always reaching out for Peter, and always dying then disintegrating over and over and over again— well...

“Alrighty then, what do you think, Pete? Have we got everything before we head up to the penthouse?” Mr. Stark asked, arms full of faux fur and books and blissfully oblivious to Peter’s exhaustion as he scanned the med bay room one last time. “I almost couldn’t tell if you’d left anything behind or not with the mess you’d made of this bedding!”

Peter flushed with embarrassment. Mr. Stark didn’t need to know the real reason so Peter made a production of straightening the bedding, “Yeah, yeah. I know. Sorry. I think I was a little overheated last night, is all.” It seemed as good an excuse as any, until—

Mr. Stark took a good look at Peter, frowned, and dropped his pile of Peter stuff back on the bed. He came closer, pressing a gentle hand to Peter’s forehead. “Are you doing okay, Peter? You’re looking a little rough, now that I’m getting a good look at you but Lydie didn’t say anything more about a fever. And she wouldn’t have forgotten to mention it, would she? She’s generally on the ball with that sort of stuff. Huh. Maybe I should get her to—“

Peter stepped back and pushed the hand away. “No. Last night was fine. Can we just go? Please?” Was he whining?

But Mr. Stark pushed. “Relax, kid. It’ll only take a minute... and ease your old man’s mind.”

“Really, Mr. Stark.” Now, Peter tried not to sound too snappish as he interrupted what was most likely going to be another freak out by his mentor. “I’m fine! I promise. I was just warm from too many blankets.”

Mr. Stark blinked, trying to figure out how to react to the dramatic shift in mood, but Peter was backtracking before Mr. Stark could do or even say anything. “Shi—I mean shoot! I’m sorry,” Peter couldn’t contain his frustrated sigh, “I didn’t have the best sleep last night. Okay?” He tried to take a deep breath and calm himself. “Please? All I really want is to take a shower and get all of this adhesive gunk off of me and then maybe try to talk to Aunt May a bit if she’s awake before I lie down in my own bed.” Peter rubbed at the site of the IV that had been taken out only minutes before for effect.

Looking both worried and unsure, Mr. Stark made his decision and moved toward the door, “Yeah, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can let this go, bud. You can razz me for overreacting later. For now, let me grab her and—“

Peter couldn’t bear it a moment longer. He’d never done well in the med bay—like, ever. And he’d only be able to ignore the fact that his Aunt May was down the hall alone for so long all because Dr. Bonwick had refused Peter’s request to visit, which was totally understandable, but still pure torture. And if he couldn’t see her... hug her... hold her hand, then at least he should be allowed to hide away and catch his breath... or try—just like with all the other stress Peter was being made to deal with. His frustration bubbled over into anger. “I SAID NO! JUST LISTEN TO ME! JUST—“ Peter realized he was losing it and caught himself, too late. He released the breath he’d apparently been holding and dropped his head into his hands in defeat. In contrast to only a moment before, he whispered a plaintive plea, “just stop.”

Mr. Stark froze in his tracks, only putting his hands up in surrender. “Peter?”

Peter couldn’t help himself and looked up at the sound of his name, mouth agape and stunned at his own outburst as Mr. Stark approached with the caution of one approaching a wounded animal. “Kid?”

Peter could only shake his head in horror as the words tumbled out of his mouth, “I am so sorry, Mr. Stark. It was such a good day yesterday and I don’t- I don’t know—I didn’t mean—I—I—” He dropped his head in his hands again and groaned in defeat. “crap.”

Way to keep it together, Peter. Idiot.

The room was silent, neither of them knowing exactly what to say after what may have been the most horrifically mortifying moments of Peter’s adolescent life, until Mr. Stark took a few deep breaths and cleared his throat. “So,” he finally spoke, “Is this just about the May stuff or is there something else running around in that head of yours?”

Peter couldn’t bring himself to speak, averted his eyes.

“Pete. You’ve got to give me something.”

Still, he remained silent.

Mr. Stark waited patiently for all of ten seconds before he wrapped a gentle hand around Peter’s wrist and led him to sit on the chair still stationed between their hospital beds. Crouching before Peter, his knees popping on his way down, Mr. Stark tried again. “Can you please look at me?”

Peter could barely manage to shake his head, ‘no.’

Mr. Stark gave Peter’s knee a gentle squeeze. “Can you at least tell me why?”

That inquiry brought on a slightly more vigorous headshake ‘no.’

Mr. Stark shifted a little, then muttered a quiet “ah, screw it” before plopping down, cross-legged onto the floor in front of the boy. “There. Now. If you’re not going to talk—or even look at me, would you at least be okay with my offering a thought or two?”

Maybe Mr. Stark had seen Peter’s barely discernible shoulder shrug, maybe not, but he plugged along as though he had. “I know that you know that me and May were talking, even before the snap...”

Peter cringed.

Mr. Stark ignored it and went on, “And I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, but she mentioned your tendency to blame yourself for things waaaaay beyond your control. I’m pretty sure I witnessed some of that myself, if I stop and think back to when I was still being a dumbass.” Mr. Stark paused. “Regardless, you know that the fever was beyond your control, right? Even if it’s not what kept you up last night.”

Peter clenched his jaw to keep from disagreeing.

“Huh. I for sure thought you’d argue with me on that one, even if you were lying. Your aunt may also have mentioned that you were stubborn like your uncle and that once you get a thought in your head, it takes something like divine intervention to get it out of there.”

Peter found himself scrutinizing a particular tile just to the right of Mr. Stark’s knee. Aside from the whole calling him out thing, hearing Mr. Stark speaking of Ben was... disorienting? And he couldn’t...

“If you don’t want to talk right now, that’s fine.” Mr. Stark assured him. “I will remind you that now that all of the world ending garbage has been taken care of, we’ve got all the time and resources we need to work on all of it, okay?”

Peter scowled.

“And you’ve also got a whole load of people who care about you... more than you know and will be around whenever you need us. I can name some of them if you need me to.”

Peter’s frown softened and his cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment.

“Perfect, I’m glad we’ve come to a consensus on all of that. Now,” Mr. Stark gave Peter’s knee a gentle pat and moved onto his next thought as he stood up from the floor. “How’s about we get upstairs, get you into a shower and then snuggle up on the couch. I’ll have FRIDAY queue up ‘A New Hope’ for once you’ve spoken with May and then we can get our nerd on. No need for you to hide away and get lost in your head all over again. Alright? Sound like a plan?”

Peter stayed sat in the chair and contemplated. Maybe hiding away wasn’t what he wanted to do, after all? Getting lost in a galaxy far, far away, with Mr. Stark and... maybe Morgan?

Before he could say anything, Mr. Stark straightened one last time. “C’mon, kid,” the man grabbed Pepper’s blanket and the books. “Let’s get you upstairs before the Missus thinks we’ve been kidnapped or something,” Mr. Stark pulled Peter close then pulled him out the door and down the hallway to the elevator they both knew FRIDAY would deliver to Mr. Stark without needing to press anything. “I’ll get Happy to double check the room later on when he gets in... sound like a plan?”

Peter nodded, still embarrassed by his emotional outburst, but feeling better for having sorted things out.

“Good show, now are you ready for a movie marathon like no oth—“

Whatever Mr. Stark was going to say was cut off by the elevator doors gliding open to reveal Happy, who choked and paled as he looked at the two before him. With zero subtlety, the man rushed to hide a bouquet of flowers behind his back. “Um, what are... I mean—“ he cleared his throat nervously. “I thought you guys would be upstairs already. Was everything okay? Peter?” Happy did a quick scan of the boy. “You’re good, right?”

Peter nodded, too emphatically. “Yeah, we were just...um.” Peter trailed off, not wanting to actually tell Happy what had delayed the two.

Mr. Stark figured it out pretty fast though. “We were just making sure we’d grabbed everything before heading up.” Mr. Stark smirked and shifted to sneak a peek behind the man. “We probably missed a crayon or two from yesterday, though, if you felt like taking a gander later... after you’re done with whatever down here? Hey, Hap?”

Happy gulped as his eyes tracked from Mr. Stark, to Peter, and then to Mr. Stark again. “Yeah... I can, uh... I can do that?”

Mr. Stark grinned big. “You’re good, though, right? I would be safe in assuming that those flowers you’re trying to hide mean you aren’t here for a check up then?”

Happy cheeks reddened. “No... I mean, yeah. I’m good.”

Mr. Stark was revelling in Happy’s obvious discomfort. “So then...”

Lydie poked her head around the corner. “Oh! Peter! Mr. Stark! What are you two still doing here?”

Peter just shrugged. “We were trying to leave but we ran into Happy and...”

“Well, then, off you go.” Lydie interrupted shooing them away. “You may have been released, but you know that you’d be best served to take it easy for a few more days, Peter. And you, Mr. Stark, don’t think you’re not in my crosshairs, too.”

Mr. Stark wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulder and immediately steered him back toward the still open elevator doors. “We’re goin’, we’re goin’...” Mr Stark grumbled. “I can tell when we’re not wanted.”

The two turned to face the hallway as the doors slid closed, giving Peter barely a second to wave awkwardly at Happy and Lydie standing together in the hall.

Neither said anything for a moment, when Peter cleared his throat and spoke, “Um, Mr. Stark? Not that it’s any of my business, but how long have Lydie and Happy been dating?”

A shocked inhale had Mr. Stark choking on his spit for a literal half-minute before he could speak again. “Lydie and Happy?!” Mr. Stark just chuckled. “Geez, kid, Let’s get you upstairs so we can have a chat.”

The elevator moved upward toward the penthouse.

Peter, feeling awkward in the silence, spoke up. “It looked like a nice bouquet at least...” and then Peter realized something. “Wait a minute... Mr. Stark? Did that bouquet have all of Aunt May’s favourites in it?”

Mr. Stark smiled big. “Let’s save this one for home, okay, kid?”

Yeah. This one was going to be a doozy.

#One Week Later #Chapter 14 #OBlossom #AO3 fanfic #ao3fic #IronDad and SpiderSon #avengers: endgame #non compliant #sorry for the wait #sometimes you have to slash and burn #maybe I'll stick to one-shots for a while #LOL

1 note · View note

voylitscope · 3 months

Text

Fic: And We're on Our Own in the Afterglow

Tags: Not Avengers: Endgame Compliant, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Emotional Sex, First Kiss, First Time, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Steve and Emotions and Art and Bucky, Bucky and fun with online shopping

Summary: "Could make up for it now. The mugs, I mean," Bucky offers, taking another long sip of coffee. "Could buy a whole variety of 'em. Get some of those they make with you on them, even."

"Oh god," Steve says, picturing the stacks of mugs, cups, plates, and all sorts of other kitchenware with his own image plastered on them that he's been shown. "I still don't understand who would want that."

"I don't know. I can kinda see the appeal," Bucky says, leaning back in his chair and keeping his eyes on Steve. "Starting the day looking at your face."

Steve swallows his coffee a bit too fast.

Or: Steve, Bucky, and a month's vacation in a mountain cabin. Featuring Steve's art, a fireplace, online shopping, so very much pining, two beds (but eventual sharing anyway), comfort for decades of hurt, and even some talk about feelings.

Fic updates on March 4, 11, 18, and 25.

Chapter 1 | Fulfills @stuckybingo round 5 square G4: Avengers Complex. | Posted February | 3,948 words

Chapter 2 | posted March 4th | 5,080 words

#stucky fic #stucky fanfiction #Stucky #SteveBucky #My Fic #My Writing #Stucky bingo

91 notes · View notes

hannibals-favourite-meal · 1 year

Note

Could I request Where Thor and reader are trying for a baby and nothing works except for one day they get lucky but then he goes on to Asgard before reader has a chance to tell him and he looses trials of time in Asgard so when he comes back he thinks reader cheated so angst but then it’s just fluffy and cute.

Sorry if this is long! just really love how you write thor! Especially chubby Thor!

Rain Rain Go Away

Thor x plus size reader

Trying and failing over and over can take its toll on anyone’s mind but a sudden success after so long can make them fracture.

Warnings: struggles to conceive, self-hatred, presumed infidelity, arguments, infertility, angst, pregnancy, endgame compliant (old man Steve), birth/labour, happy/hopeful ending

WC: 5k

Minors DNI

There is a point when trying for a baby where it doesn’t become fun anymore. It becomes scheduled, scientific. There are calendars and pills, alarms and appointments. It was clinical and heartbreaking.

Since the beginning of your time with the Avenger, you both knew you wanted kids, a whole load of them. But you stayed on birth control, knowing that getting pregnant too soon could destroy your budding relationship.

And as your first wedding anniversary came around, your gift to your godly husband was a cut on your inner arm where your implant had been. You spent a week in bed together, determined to fall pregnant on the first try.

But it was now over a year later and all you had to show for it was several broken headboards and a dozen negative pregnancy tests. It weighed heavily on you both but you more so.

Thor was a god of not only thunder but fertility. He was meant to have children, an army of them, so it had to be you that was holding him back. He constantly reassured you that these things took time and that patience was essential, yet you could tell he was thinking the same thing too.

Sighing, you dropped the ovulation test in the bin. You were supposed to be at the peak of your cycle today but the single blue line on the plastic told you otherwise. You could hear your husband working out in the home gym below you. He was working out more often nowadays, trying to get out all of his frustration in a somewhat practical way.

You washed your hands slowly, delaying your exit from the bathroom. It was getting harder to face your husband each day, to see that disappointment in those blue eyes as we woke up. Occasionally, he would reach for your soft stomach as if he would be able to cup it like you were pregnant but catch himself before he could touch you.

It ripped your heart apart every time.

Taking a deep breath, you braced yourself and left the small bathroom. The kitchen, thankfully, was empty so you were able to quietly slip to the fridge and pull out one of the nasty premade smoothies that Laura suggested.

You downed half of it and cringed at the taste. At this point you wouldn’t be surprised if it was a placebo. It was raining today, how fitting. “My love?” For being a man closer to 7’ than the average human, he certainly moved quietly.

“Jesus Christ!” You jumped, almost dropping the bottle of vile green liquid. “Don’t scare me like that.” But he just chuckled, brushing off your words. His solid arms wrapped firmly around your wide waist and tugged you into him so he could rest his chin on the top of your head.

“I am sorry my queen, I thought you heard me come in.” You melted into his hold like you always did. Thor had magical hugs, even in the most dire of circumstances where you couldn’t see the light at the end, he brought his own. He guided you back in the beat of his heart and the warmth of his chest. These embraces were becoming all too frequent now, a constant routine before bed or after you got up.

“Is ok.” You slurred, letting the heat of him lull you into a fuzzy headspace. A huge hand came up and cupped the back of your head so your nose pressed into his collarbone. The other slid down to your lower back, his thumb rubbing soft circles into your warm skin.

“How are you feeling today? What do you need from me?” Even in the midst of the worst fights you’ve had, Thor always made sure that you were ok, both physically and mentally.

Reaching up, you wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him down for a soft peck to his lips. “Just you my love, I just need you.” With no effort, you were hauled up and thrown over his shoulder.

“Then you shall have me!” And he ran to your shared bedroom as you laughed.

——————

The sun was trying to break from the horizon when he awoke. The message had been short ‘come quickly, we need help’. And as much as he hated it, he had to leave you. You were still fast asleep, dreaming peacefully within the cotton sheets.

He laid a quick kiss to your temple and tucked a note onto the bedside table. Thor gazed down at you sadly, his fingers skimming your lower stomach before he forced himself to pull away, knowing that if he stayed any longer, he would not leave.

By the time you awoke, far more tired than you usually were, the sun was at its highest point in the sky and Thor was gone.

You hauled yourself from bed, only briefly glancing at the note he had left as you sluggishly moved to the bathroom. ‘I have to be getting sick’ you thought, that was the only explanation for how utterly exhausted you felt.

A hot shower woke you up a bit but not much. As you dried yourself off, you froze. Your breasts felt firm, and very sensitive. No, it can’t be.

With shaking hands, you opened up your phone’s calendar and nearly dropped the device in shock. Your period was almost two months late. No, don’t get your hopes up, you told yourself. Take a test, then go from there.

Admittedly, it was the messiest test you ever took considering how your entire body trembled with nerves. Deja vu washed over you as you washed your hands, the test face down on the counter beside you. Hope and despair curled in your gut, twisting around each other like snakes. Your heart wanted hope to win but your brain knew that like so many times before despair would devour the other.

Your timer was set, three minutes.

2 minutes 45 seconds It was going to be negative, just like the many times before. You were probably coming down with a flu and your cycle was off because you’re so stressed about getting pregnant.

2 minutes 24 seconds But what if it was positive? No no, it isn’t.

2 minutes Dear god it’s positive.

1 minute 30 seconds You can’t be pregnant now, Thor literally just zapped off to Asgard for god knows how long.

1 minute 4 seconds It has to be negative, why is this time any different than the other 12 times?

56 seconds But what if?

39 seconds Could it have actually worked this time?

12 seconds Why can’t time move any faster!

6 seconds Please please just let it be positive

3 seconds It’s negative, you just know it

1 second Take a deep breath, it’ll do you no good if you pass out before you can read the test

Your ears were ringing so loud you didn’t hear the alarm go off but you flipped the test anyway. Your heart stopped.

Pregnant. And Thor was gone.

——————

The months seemed to crawl on but go by quickly at the same time. You documented everything you could, from ultrasound pictures to the size of your belly each week. The commemorative photo album Sam and Bucky had given you was already filled to the brim along with a shoe box you had found in the back of your closet.

Every morning you awoke, expecting to find your husband beside you, his blue eyes wide with surprise as he watched your growing belly, maybe even crying as your little one gave a powerful kick to his palm. But every morning, without fail, you woke up alone.

You could only hope that he was somewhere safe, that he would come home to you in one piece, hopefully in time for the birth which was fast approaching.

“Come on, time to get up.” You muttered to your stomach, laying a hand over the top and getting a soft punch from your little thunder as you had taken to calling them. With a great heave, you lifted yourself from the bed.

Your stance was wide in order to accommodate the heft of your stomach. They rolled underneath your palm, obviously unhappy with the sudden movement. “Yeah I know but I can’t stay in bed all day.” Slowly, you made your way out of the bedroom, your gate becoming more of a waddle the longer you were on your feet.

Stupidly, the kitchen was a floor below your bedroom and you stubbornly remained in the master suite for the comfort of Thor’s fading scent. A tinkling of bells broke your concentration.

That was the door chime. Your head whipped to the front door, expecting Bucky to be walking through for his weekly checkup but instead, it was your very tired looking husband. His broad shoulders were slouched, his back hunched over like he hadn’t slept in weeks.

The usually bright silver of his armour was dull, his red cape slashed and coated with what you hoped was mud but was probably blood. His eyes were fixed on the ground as he toed off his boots, still mindful of your rule about dirty shoes on your nice floors. “Thor?” Your voice came out as more of a gasp.

A smile came over his face and he looked up at you, blue eyes meeting yours before they dropped to your very pregnant belly. His face dropped. “Whose is it?” He snarled, tone full of anger and hatred and a hint of disgust.

“W-what are you talking about? This is our baby.” Your arms cradled your bump protectively, and for the first time in your life, you were scared of your husband.

Thor’s shoulders rolled back like he was getting ready for a fight. “No. That thing in your belly cannot be my child. So tell me whose it is.” Your sadness and fear suddenly burned away to a white hot rage.

“How dare you.” You hissed venomously. “Get the fuck out of my house and don’t come back until you come to your fucking senses.” His frown deepened but he made no move to leave, in fact he planted his feet.

“Whose is it?”

“Leave.” Your hand slipped to the hidden compartment on the wall, fully intending to hit the panic button on the side of it. The threat of you trying to call for help, that you were truly terrified of the man who was supposed to be protecting you, seemed to break him from his trance.

“Fine but I walk out that door and you never see me again.”

“Go please.” Tears lined your vision as the heartbreak began to set in. “Go.” Your voice was a mere whisper now, weak and soft. But he listened. With an almost dramatic spin, he left your home, slamming the door behind him.

As soon as the house was quiet again, you crumpled, just barely catching yourself on the stairs before spiraling into a fit of sobs.

——————

The battle had been long and fatal. So many had died on the fields before him. He felt like his skin was constantly coated in dried blood, the iron smell invading his senses during every waking moment. But more than that, Thor felt an overwhelming sense of guilt.

He had left you behind in the most trying time of your relationship, a time when you needed all of his support and love. He knew you were struggling more than you let on, consumed by such a hatred for your body. He watched you slowly fall into yourself, your mind falling into a dark place that he couldn’t always bring you back from.

He had been gone for almost a year by his count, trapped on a distant planet surrounded by those who wished to kill him. He dreamt of you every night. Maybe the distance could reignite that passion you had at the beginning.

When Brunhilde told him that the war was over and that he could go home, Thor wasted no time. He abandoned his comrades immediately using Stormbreaker to bring him home.

Relief washed over him like a wave when he stepped back over the familiar threshold. His heart pounded with excitement as he removed his shoes but then he saw you and he shattered. There was no doubt you were pregnant.

He could sense it in his bones. But it could not have been his child in your womb, it had been too long since he had been gone.

Rage infected his mind like a plague, destroying his rational mind which screamed at him that you would never betray him like that. His veins came to light with lightning as if he was about to go back into battle.

He watched fear grow in the eyes he adored so much but he could not stop the words from escaping his mouth.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you with some man, tangled together in the heat of passion. Insecurity had been building like a wave within the god since the first negative test. He knew you were fertile, fuck he could smell it from across the house. But month after month, he failed.

Maybe a god was never supposed to have children with a human but he couldn’t give up, not when he loved you so much. You were the only person he could ever see having kids with so it broke him to come home and see you so perfectly, beautifully pregnant by another man.

So he ran, as far as he could.

It didn’t surprise him that he found himself on Captain America’s doorstep. They had been kindred souls in their prime, two men with intertwined destinies. The door opened before he could knock. “Come on in, I’ll put on a pot of coffee.” Steve was much smaller but Thor supposed that came with aging.

The house was quant, much like yours but the furniture and decorations were dated. Steve led him further into the domicile, directing him towards the kitchen. Thor mindlessly took a seat at the small breakfast nook, forcing his large body into one of the small stools.

Steve was quiet at first, simply going through the motions of making a pot of coffee for them both, letting him stew in his thoughts. Maybe he deserved it, after all so much of your relationship had been spent apart. He had left you alone for months at a time, it was only natural that you would find comfort in someone else.

“So, what happened?” He asked in a way like he already knew the answer.

“Y/N’s pregnant.” He stated factually.

Steve nodded, taking a sip of his own coffee. “I heard, congratulations by the way.” Thor scowled at the younger man as his grip tightened on the mug, threatening to shatter the porcelain.

“How can you say that to me, that child isn’t mine.” Steve’s blue eyes narrowed harshly, both accentuating the wrinkles on his face and making him look decades younger. The silence spoke louder than any of his words ever could.

The anger, disappointment and genuine sadness in his eyes made the god look away. “I was gone for a year and when I returned, she was with child! What else was I meant to think, that somehow she became impregnated magically?” Steve’s grading eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Thor, you’ve only been gone six, maybe seven months.” The room became icy all of a sudden.

“What.”

“That baby is yours and you just abandoned the mother of your child.” The wooden legs of his chair screamed against the laminate flooring as Thor suddenly stood.

“No, no. I was gone for a year.” He insisted but his voice wavered, his confidence fading and the reality of what he had just done finally settling in. Steve’s gaze flicked to the wall behind Thor, his aged eyes focusing on something hanging there. Thor spun and his blood turned to ice.

It was the end of March. He had left at the beginning of September, the wind still carrying the warmth of summer but with the bitter bite of winter. Leaves still clung to the trees, their edges only barely fraying with oranges and reds. “It’s not possible.” He whispered as if trying to convince himself rather than the other man.

“We have lost time before, why is it so impossible to believe that it has happened again.” Steve said with a soft tone. Thor shook his head.

“What have I done?” Steve’s withered came to rest on his broad shoulder in a comforting touch.

“Hopefully nothing that can’t be undone.”

——————

The house was silent and dark, the warmth seemingly sucked out. A cool breeze blew through an open window in the dining room. “My love?” Like he had done hundreds of times before, Thor placed one foot in front of the other, avoiding the perpetually creaky floorboards.

Silence answered him.

Fear gripped his heart tightly, a fist slowly closing around it, making his chest ache. “Y/N.” He was more firm now, needing to hear your voice even if it was just to scream at him and curse his name. He began to climb the stairs, his hand curling around the bannister, his knuckles turning pale with the force.

His foot slipped on something wet. Looking down, he expected the dark stain of blood on the hardwood but the liquid was clear, mucus-like. It smelt of birth.

——————

Sobs wracked your body almost painfully as you quickly fell into hysterics. Your hand clutched at the wall, barely holding on. You held our belly with your other hand, your little thunder spinning wildly beneath your palm. “It’s ok, it’s ok.” You chanted, admittedly more to yourself than your child.

Your vision started to swim as you struggled to fill your already compressed lungs through your gasping breaths. But you weren’t calming down, in fact, your stomach had begun to cramp and lightning shot up your back.

“Oh fuck.” A sudden gush of liquid from between your legs solidified your theory. “This is the best time to go into labour.” You snarled. On shaky legs, you rose back to your feet, overly mindful of still being on the stairs. Quickly, you pressed the small panic button which would send an alert to both Bucky and Sam.

“Now you just stay in there for a while, you hear?” But you knew it was useless to try and convince them so slowly, carefully, you waddled down the rest of the stairs, admittedly taking a few minutes to catch your breath on each step.

Your chest ached painfully at the thought you had to do this alone, without your husband. But the look of absolute disgust on his face turned your heart to stone. With added determination, you reached your target, Thor’s armchair.

The plush fabric was soft enough to cradle your incredibly sore body and let you sit up in a somewhat comfortable position that alleviated some pain. You could not allow your mind to wander, not now. Another cramp rolled through your stomach.

First, you get this parasite out of you and then you hunt down a god.

By the time the two ex-Avengers burst through your front door, guns blazing, your contractions were barely minutes apart. “It’s time.” You gasped between bouts of pain. Sam acted first.

He helped you stand, supporting your weight in his arms as he guided you towards the open front door. When the pair of you reached the front steps, Bucky had taken off in a panic, ripping through the house to find your hospital bag and the carseat for the baby.

“Come on mama, only a few more steps and then you can rest.” He kept his voice calm as he guided you but another spark of pain made you scream.

“Shut the fuck up you star spangled bitch. Which one of us is having a 10 pound watermelon shot out of their cooter.” He looked at you with wide eyes, truly shocked by your vulgarity. “God Sam I’m so sorry. I- Jesus Fucking Christ!” You hunched over as another contraction slammed into you like a truck.

Your hand tightened around his to the point where he winced from the pain, but like the smart man he was, he kept his mouth shut. “Got the bag, let’s go!” The soldier sprinted past you in order to shove everything into Sam’s truck before he quickly wrapped a metal arm around your plump waist and hauled you forward.

“Bucky put me down! I can walk!”

“Not fast enough.” He said, anxiety obviously lacing his tone. You attempted to squirm from his hold but you quickly exhausted yourself and let him carry you to the car.

The rest of the trip was a blur of pain and shouting, but not only from you. Sam and Bucky also contributed to the insane amount of noise in the car. You were put in a private room in the back of the hospital considering that Captain America was your delivery partner, and given all of the best amenities but none of it helped when your little thunder decided to make their entrance.

After 13 hours of being in labour, Astrid Natalia Thorsdottir was born.

“Jesus, why does she look so weird?” You glared at Bucky who had an incredibly puzzled look on his face as he watched your daughter settle to sleep in your arms. Sam smacked him upside the head for you.

“She was just pushed out of a very small hole, you’d look even worse if you went through the same thing.” And just like that, Sam was in your bad books again.

“Will you two stop it? She’s absolutely perfect.” You smiled down at your little girl, gently stroking her chubby cheek with your finger. Her faint eyebrows scrunched but she remained asleep, completely milk drunk. Already, you could see her father in her face, the shape of her jaw, the startling blue of her eyes.

God, it hurt so much. He abandoned you and yet he still haunted you in the form of something you craved so deeply. You could not stop the tears from gathering, slowly filling up behind your eyes. You couldn’t cry, please don’t cry. You begged yourself but it was of no use.

Arms wrapped tightly around Astrid, you grieved the relationship you had lost. How could he so easily believe that you would stray, break those vows you held so dear? Your chest shook with silent sobs, jostling Astrid but she did not wake. A comforting hand touched your shoulder as Sam spoke up.

“What happened?” His voice was level if not a little soft, trying to comfort the blow of the question, or more likely, the answer. You shook your head, unable to tell them.

But Bucky, being the observant man he was, quickly came to his own conclusion. “Does it have anything to do with the fact that Thor’s shoes were by the front door but he wasn’t there and you never asked us to call him?” The hitch in your breath was the answer he was looking for. “What did he do?”

The room fell silent for a moment while both men stared at you intently. “He said Astrid wasn’t his.”

“Right, Sam, we’re going to kill a god today.” You sighed and grabbed Bucky’s wrist before he could even take one step forward. As much as you would love for them to defend you, it would probably result in not only a massive rift between the very few heroes left and leave the two of them in their own hospital beds.

“Please, not now. This is not the time nor place for any of that. I just have to pick myself up and move on, that’s it.”

“But-“ Bucky started but you cut him off with a glare.

“No, we deal with it later and like adults. Today is about her.” You gestured to your baby and his eyes softened.

“Fine but if he upsets you again, I’m not holding back. I will track him down and destroy that blond idiot.”

“There is no need to track anyone down, I am already here.” Thor looked thoroughly embarrassed and heartbroken as he stood in the doorway. You could see that he was deliberately making himself smaller, like he always did when you were mad at him or he did something wrong, In this case, it was both.

Bucky’s eyes met yours with a silent question, you shook your head. Stepping forward Sam blocked the god’s view of you and Astrid with his body. “I think you should leave.” Your chest warmed with how determined your friends were to protect you both but the part of you that loved your husband no matter what, screamed out to him.

Your voice was soft but all of them heard you. “It’s ok. Will you give us a minute? We need to talk.” Thor curled in on himself even more as a deep blush spread across his cheeks. Good, you wanted him to be ashamed of what he had done.

Astrid shifted in your arms, a small cry escaping her lips so your attention was pulled away from the god and the soldiers, allowing the former to set such hateful glares on the man, he felt genuinely terrified. The pair of grey and brown eyes were alight with a fire he had never seen before, well more like he had never been on the receiving end.

But he would endure thousands of beatings and harsh glares if it meant he could be right back next to you again. He pleaded silently that they would let him pass.

Sam conceded first with a kiss to your temple and a cold look at Thor, he left. Bucky followed a few seconds after, shoulder checking the god with his metal arm as he passed. Thor barely moved but he got the message.

“What’s her name?” Astrid was fully awake now, one of her arms waving about as she had partially escaped the wrap she was in. The smile that came over your face as you looked at her made Thor’s heart skip a beat.

Her small hand wrapped around your index finger when you placed it in front of her, her grip surprisingly tight for a baby only a few hours old. “Astrid.” You replied before you laid a small kiss to her soft forehead.

Thor beamed internally. Maybe he still had a chance. “I’m sorry.” He said after a moment but you did not meet his gaze.

“You’ll have to do better than that. I cannot believe that you would think I cheated on you!” You hissed caused Thor to flinch.

“W-well I believed that I had been gone for a year-“ He tried to explain but you cut him off.

“And your first thought wasn’t ‘oh maybe I counted wrong’ but that I broke our vows? Do you know what that makes me think?” He shook his head, fear creeping through his veins. “It makes me think that you were so quick to jump on that thought because you cheated first.”

“No! No! Never! Please believe me! I could never! I love you more than anything!” He sank to his knees, begging you to believe him.

“Then why didn’t you believe me?”

“I don’t know.” Your heart dropped but you quickly steeled your face and tucked Astrid to your breast, shielding her from his view.

“Thor. If you can’t trust me enough to believe that I wouldn’t cheat on you then I don’t think this marriage can continue.”

“No please!” He cried, his hands gripping at the bedspread in a desperate move. “I cannot be without you. I need you and Astrid please.”

The tears had returned in a tidal wave, streaming down your full cheeks and wetting the neck of your hospital gown. “Then why?”

His head dropped to the mattress as if he were in prayer. “Because I was scared. Scared that I could never give you children and that some other human man could. That you would leave me because of that. I couldn’t live with myself if I kept you from having the thing you have always desired.” His voice was muffled against the thick fabric but you heard him all the same.

“It is the one thing I am meant to do and I failed you.” His own tears were falling now, but he was too cowardly to let you see them, so he kept his head down. A squeak from your daughter forced you to look down on her.

She was gazing up at you with those big blue eyes you knew so well, the eyes you had fallen in love with from the first moment you saw them. You could already see her growing up before you. Her life was in your hands, how she was raised, who she was raised by, and all you could think was that she deserves to have her father around.

“I can’t forgive you, not now. It ripped me apart when you said all those things. I was waiting for you for months, so eager to have you back in my arms to begin this new chapter together but you destroyed that hope.” Thor’s fingers curled into the scratchy sheets as he prepared himself for your rejection and your anger, but it never came. “And yet, I can’t make myself walk away. I need you more than anyone I have ever needed before and I know that I couldn’t live with myself if Astrid and I stayed away.”

With that, Thor’s body sagged like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. His body trembled with relieved sobs. “But we need time and I think some counseling. We’ll be ok, I promise.” You cooed, prying your hand from Astrid’s grip to run it through his short hair. Thor nodded in agreement, not yet able to speak.

And that’s how Bucky found you hours later, Thor kneeling at your beside, your hand on his head and Astrid in your arms as you all slept, getting some much needed rest.

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @km-ffluv

Marvel

@lokiandbuckysdoll @andreasworlsboring101 @pretty-npeach @luvvvjada @cakesandtom @elizabethmidnight2017

Thor

@raajali3 @honkytonkbabe @nini-trash-forever @itsbqueenthings @mandyzsick101 @galaxydj654 @getoutofthere @blasianbitch @theweepingvulcan91 @springdandelixn @valen-yamyam16 @ladyburberry @im-a-satanic-ritual @l9ckheed @tinyinfluencerharmony @r0si5 @kittycatkrissa @justanotherpasserby-blog @goobysgoobers @xoxokiaraaxoxo @stabmemaybe @kobaltdragon

#thor odinson x reader #thor odinson x plus size reader #thor odinson x pregnant reader #thor odinson x you #thor odinson x y/n #thor x reader #thor odinson x female reader #thor x female reader #thor x you #thor x y/n #thor x plus size reader #female reader #plus size reader #reader insert #anon #angst

694 notes · View notes

rainbowsuitcase · 4 months

Text

Thoughts on The Marvels

CW for spoilers, though most of this is me going insane about the characters and not the actual plot.

1. I'm not sure I get the plot but I love these women.

2. I love their superhero suits. They look very good in them but also the designs are pretty great on its own.

3. Carol being fine in a professional setting but becoming unsure and nervous when she’s confronted by Monica is such a mood.

4. I've never cared much about him before but I do love Fury and his snarkiness and his dynamic with his "mentees" and most of all his style of motivation.

5. Val and Carol Val and Carol fucking Val and Carol

6. Also Val in a suit (well, i mean... women is suits in general)

7. I love Kamala as a fangirl (I think this is comic compliant, right). I love Kamala in general. She’s a teenager and she acts like a teenager and she's a very proud and loud fangirl, but she's also very competent and confident in what she can do.

8. Carol in a tanktop??? Carol in a tanktop!!! (Carol in a tanktop with the suit hanging around her waist) (But also Carol in a tanktop and those old style shorts)

9. Monica and her outfit on that musical planet >>>

10. Carol's princess dress? I love how it incorporates her symbol (not too crazy about the hair though, I like it much more just loose)

11. "He doesn’t have to sing?" "He's bilingual." Loved that, 10/10

12. I love the Marvels' dynamic. Sometimes they bicker but they all take each other seriously, they take Kamala seriously even thought they don't really know her and she's a kid. They all feel like they’re actually friends and like they actually care about each other. And then they were torn apart. I'm crying. Don’t talk to me.

13. I love Kamala basically Nick Furry-ing it at the end and that she'll apparently be the one to put together the Young Avengers (or New Avengers? You know what I mean)

14. I also love that (if I'm remembering correctly, which to be fair I'm probably not so please correct me, I don't want to be getting excited for nothing) it seems like this new young team is an all women's thing so far.

15. This movie confirmed what I already suspected - I have no problem with strong female characters or movies about them. I do have a problem when it's framed as "this is a movie about a Strong Female Character and you, woman, are going to like it because Feminism. We're doing Feminism." Case and point - Captain Marvel didn’t impress me much and I did find that Endgame final battle's all female scene cringy, but I love The Marvels and I really enjoyed Black Panther 2.

16. GOOSE HAD BABIES!! I don’t understand how they happened but I love every single one of them.

17. Mutants!! The new era MCU doesn't have a very good track record but this movie was great and it makes me hopeful that the Mutants will be introduced well into the universe.

18. Also are my standards really low or was this movie actually funny? I laughed a lot the whole way through!

#the marvels spoilers #the marvels #kamala khan #carol danvers #monica rambeau #captain marvel #ms marvel #the marvels dynamic is what i thought the avengers would be

61 notes · View notes

ao3feed-irondadspiderson · 3 months

Text

You're My Kid Too

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53793676 by noonecaneverknowwhoiam “Morgan calls you her big brother,” Tony picks up. “And Peter, you’re not just a stray orphan I picked up because they had radioactive spider powers. Sure, that’s the reason we met, but that’s not the reason I kept you around. I offered you the internship because I liked you. I bring you up to the cabin because I love you.” Tony’s breath catches. “When - when you were dusted, we had a mini memorial stone made for you,” he says. Pepper takes his hand. “We never told you this because it’s not something we like thinking about. But May was with us and she agreed that the name that would go on the stone was Peter Benjamin Parker-Stark. Parker-Stark, you hear that?” “Why?” Peter whimpers. “Because Peter,” Tony says easily, “you’re my kid too.” or Peter gets sick at the cabin and is ~insecure~ Words: 2843, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Happy Hogan Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark Additional Tags: Sickfic, Sick Character, Sick Peter Parker, Emetophobia, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter Parker Whump, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Parent Tony Stark, Good Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark are Siblings (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Febuwhump, Sicktember, Whumptober, Whump read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/53793676

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #iron dad and spider son #spider son #iron dad #peter parker #tony stark

43 notes · View notes

ao3feed-brucewayne · 2 months

Text

Spider-Bat

by Kizilop Words: 3394, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel, DCU, DC Extended Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Peter Parker, Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Tony Stark, Aunt May Parker (Marvel), Duke Thomas Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Batfamily Members & Peter Parker, Tim Drake & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Jason Todd, Peter Parker & Bruce Wayne, Peter Parker & Alfred Pennyworth, Peter Parker & Rogues Gallery (Batman), Barbara Gordon & Peter Parker, Cassandra Cain & Peter Parker, Stephanie Brown & Peter Parker, Dick Grayson & Peter Parker & Jason Todd, Peter Parker & Tony Stark Additional Tags: DC Comics References, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Space Stone | Space Gem (Marvel), Not Canon Compliant with Movie: Avengers: Infinity War (2018), Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Movie: Avengers: Infinity War (2018), Dimension Travel, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Has Issues, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Teen Peter Parker, Peter Parker is a Mess, Batfamily (DCU), Protective Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily Dynamics (DCU), Batfamily Shenanigans (DCU), Jason Todd is a Batfamily Member, Caring Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily-centric (DCU), Duke Thomas is a Batfamily Member, Peter Parker is a Batfamily Member (DCU), Peter Parker has the space stone, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), BAMF Peter Parker, I live by webtoon batfam, I will die by webtoon batfam, Webtoon Batfam via https://ift.tt/JXbixn9

#IFTTT #bruce wayne #batman #the dark knight #the caped crusader #gotham #dcu #dc #ao3 #ao3feed

20 notes · View notes

mthofferings · 8 months

Photo

dontcallmebree

See dontcallmebree’s existing works here and here.

Preferred contact methods: Discord: dontcallmebree#1390 Tumblr: dontcallmebree Email: [email protected]

Preferred organizations: - Center for Reproductive Rights - Coalition for Rainforest Nations - Direct Relief - Rainbow Railroad - Room to Read (See the list of approved organizations here)

Will create works that contain: Fluff, Established Relationship, Angst, Canon Divergence, Alternate Universes, No Powers AU, Age Difference.

Will not create works that contain: Endgame Compliant, TFATWS Compliant, PWP, Hydra Characters, Cop AU, Mission Fics, Domestic Avengers, Missing Scenes, Soulmate AU.

-- Fic or Other Writing --

Auction ID: 1038

Will create works for the following relationships: Steve Rogers-centric - MCU Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers - MCU

Work Description: I’m offering a fic of 1,000 words, with 500 more words for every $2 after the starting bid. No maximum word count. My writing is character-driven and focuses on Steve Rogers and Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes. Please see my AO3 page for examples of my work. I am open to flexible prompts and writing additional installments to my pre-existing work. Feel free to reach out before bidding to discuss the latter or any other questions! Please note that I will write any variation of Steve and Bucky except for Pre-Serum Steve (just because I haven’t written him before).

Ratings: Gen, Teen, Mature, Explicit

Can pods bid on this auction? Yes - Podbids welcome!

CLICK HERE TO BID ON THIS WORK

The auction runs from October 22 (12 AM ET) to October 28 (11:59:59 PM ET). Visit marveltrumpshate.com during Auction Week to view all of our auctions and to place your bids!

#dontcallmebree #auction: fic #mth 2023

42 notes · View notes

kitsune024 · 4 months

Text

Loki Fic Recs || Part 2 ||

WinterFrost Fics

IronFrost Fics

Crossovers

Frozen

The Ice Demon By @lizardbeths I Part 1- 10 I Elsa & Loki, Parent Loki, Canon Divergence, hint of Loki/Natasha and Loki/Steve, Bucky Barnes & Loki Friendship, loki was a howling commando, Torture, Recovery, Family Feels

A bargain by Iamnotreal I Chapters: 79/? I Loki & Natasha, Avengers Team & Loki, Aftermath of Torture, Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers, Jotunn Loki King by anastacianott I Chapters 39 I King Loki, BAMF Loki, Jotunheim, Jealous Thor, Thor tries, Jotunn Loki, Loki & Avengers Team, Brotherly Love Free from the Chains of Time by AnyFangirl98 I Chapters 1/?I Loki Series, Fic for me, Loki God of Stories, Fix it fic, The Avengers The Walls Between Us by pietoraven36 I Chapters 55/? I FFN Loki/FemOc, Loki & Thor, Family Drama There's a God Under My Bed by @qmeup I Chapters 32/? I Darcy/Loki, kid!loki, kid!Darcy, Darcy Lewis & Loki Friendship, Eventual Romance

Completed Fics

Ásgarðrian Galdr by Valerie_Vancollie I Chapters: 93/93 I Time Travel Fix it, Canon Divergence - Thor (2011), BAMF Loki, King Loki, Good Loki, Brotherhood, Brotherly Angst, Courtroom Drama, Family Drama, Bigotry & Prejudice Ensoulment by Valerie_Vancollie I Chapters: 18/18 I Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War Part 1, Infinity Gems, Infinity Stone Soul World, BAMF Loki, Child Abandonment What you are in the dark (is beautiful) by @peaceheather | Chapters 4/4 | Loki's Sentencing, Evil Odin, Body Horror, Angry Witch reasons wretched and divine by @astrosxnthesis I Chapter 2/2 I Loki Series, Post-Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, Lokius if you squint God with whiskers by Moonybird, Origami_Roses I Chapters: 32/32 I Lokitty, Resurrection, Loki Lives, Depression, Brotherhood Family Ties by skiesovergideon I Chapters: 37/37 I family of choice fic, loki & ocs Loptr Farm by @digitalta I Chapters 2/2 I Loki Redemption, Loki adopts a lot of animals- as in Loki runs a farm, Loki angst

Bookmark Series

Desperate Measures by @rennemichaelswrites I Part 1 - 2 I Completed Loki wasn't the bad guy in The Avengers, Loki's resistance, Dark Tony, Manipulative Loki Another Name by @sundial-at-night Part 1- 4 Completed Not Avengers: Endgame Compliant, Loki Lives, Redemption, Fix-It of Sorts, BAMF Loki, Brotherhood Alternate Alignment by DeathScribe Part 1-3 I kid Loki set during Thor 1, Canon Divergence, Friendship, oc A Bridge Once Broken by @fallintosanity Part 1-8 Completed Loki/ FemOC, Brotherhood, Canon Divergence, Action/Adventure, Angst

Oneshots

A Chance to Say Goodbye by Mikill I Chapters: 1/1 I Loki Series, Loki & Thor The Time He Was Found Worthy by @bonsaiscribbles I Chapters: 1/1 I Loki saves Thor, Loki & Thor in peace may you rest by @doubletan | Chapters 1/1 | Avengers: Endgame, Thor doesn't walk past Loki, Canon Divergence, Loki & Thor not all martyrs see divinity by @thepartyprince I Chapters 1/1 I Loki Series, Loki 2x6, Loki & Thor hubris is for people who see trees as gallows by LadySilvertongue I Chapters 1/1 I Loki Series, Loki 2x6, Loki & Thor Glorious Purpose by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye) I Chapters 1/1 I Loki Series, Loki can split himself into different copies, Loki 2x6

#fic rec #fanfic rec #loki #loki laufeyson #mcu loki #tva loki #fanart #loki fanart #ao3 fanfic #ffnet #loki fic recs #i love loki #loki series

26 notes · View notes

greenbergwrites · 4 months

Note

Salutations Friend/Foe

I had never really watched much Marvel, other than a few Spiderman movies and Deadpool. I had definitely never seen any Captain America or Avengers movies.

I found your blog a fair while ago and fell in love with your Steve and Bucky. I decided that this year I would watch throught the MCU in chronological order.

I've just finished watching The Winter Soldier.

I don't know whether I want to say thank you or screw you for introducing me to this world of absolute pain. I believe there is one Captain America movie left, and be warned, if it doesn't end well (with a little kissie) I will haunt your blog until the end of time.

That said, could you spare a Stucky thought to soothe my wounded heart?

Sincerely,

:((

I feel very privileged that you read my stuff without really knowing the characters too much (although, honestly, at this point, do you really need to? it's not like I write canon compliant too often anymore)

bless you and your kind words

Because you're so kind, I feel the need to immediately respond to this message with a warning:

DO. NOT. watch Avengers: Endgame. If you absolutely must, cut it off about 10 minutes before the end, this is for your own sanity. It came out in April of 2019, I saw it the first night in theaters, and I am STILL furious any time I think about it.

That being said, you should know that you've reached The Peak of the MCU. There are very few MCU movies better than Captain America: The Winter Soldier. One of them is Black Panther.

Of course, I will be happy to soothe the wounds brought on by TWS. Any special requests or will anything suffice?

#nani asks #greenberg replies #i could write a whole dissertation on why Endgame's ending is bullshit. my hate-on for that movie will never die.

29 notes · View notes

monaisme · 2 years

Text

One Week Later - Chapter 13

This is the sequel to my one shot, “The Battle,” which can be found here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30027636

As it’s been a while, you can also find the rest of this story here... if you’d like to refresh your memory:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30168360

Enjoy!

Chapter Thirteen

“Morgan, please! Get back here before you wake everyone up.”

Peter recognized that whisper-hiss anywhere. “Happy?” He squinted to open his eyes and shifted his attention, bleary-eyed, toward the door, only to see a frantic Happy crouching down and trying to coax something out from under his bed. “Wha’s goin’ on?”

Hearing Peter, Happy popped up to standing and stared blankly at the boy in the bed. “Peter?” He opened his mouth to speak when the answer was interrupted by a muffled giggle coming from under his bed. “Oh, crap, Peter. I am so sorry for waking you up.“ Happy apologized, still trying to be quiet as he hesitantly stepped toward the bed. “I asked FRIDAY to take us to Pepper, thinking she’d be in the penthouse but the doors opened up here and she was off like a shot before I could...”

Another giggle, not so muffled this time, burst from whoever was under the bed.

“Wait... wha—who was shot? I don’t—“ Still sleep drunk, Peter tried to focus on what Happy was actually saying. He turned to check on his mentor and wife cuddled together and sleeping soundly on the bed beside him, blissfully unaware of anything. “Mr. Stark...?” He could hear each of their heartbeats, knew them but then heard something more. Peter looked back at Happy again. “Wha’ the...?”

The confusion on Peter’s face was clear and Happy rushed to fix it. “Crap, No kid, I was talking about Morgan!”

The few disjointed words that Peter had managed to pull together had him leaping up and out of bed. “MORGAN’S BEEN SHOT?!” Peter swayed where he stood as he shouted out in distress. He hadn’t even met her yet and she was already gone—

Mr. and Mrs. Stark woke up to pandemonium. “Wha’? Happy? What’s goin’ on?” Mr. Stark released the loving hold he had on his wife and sat himself on the edge of his own bed, voicing his own confusion as he scrubbed his hand over his beard.

“Nothing’s going on!” Happy promised his boss and friend as he reached out to steady the boy. “And geez, kid, no. Listen to me, everyone is fine. No one’s been shot.” He watched carefully as Peter steadied. “Now, can I please help you get back in the bed before you give me or Tony over there a heart attack?”

Peter paled and swayed again, but not for the reason Happy thought. The memories of yesterday still too close to the surface to be so casual about something like Mr. Stark’s health, not that Happy knew it. “Yeah, sure... thanks,” he whispered and allowed himself to be manhandled back into the bed. That it seemed as though Happy was tucking him in? Super weird. Peter could barely fathom that this was the same gruff head of security that he’d known before. He’d need to process that later, but being able to lay down once more as he tried to figure out just what the last minute had meant was a definite help.

Happy pulled Peter’s blankets up over his shoulders and patted them flat. “There you go, Pete... all better?”

Yup. This was definitely an evolved Happy. Peter nodded.

“Good, now...” Happy stepped back and crouched down, disappearing from Peter’s view.

“Huh? Happy?” Peter sat back up again and moved to look over the edge of his bed, needing to know what Happy was so focused on.

But of course, by now, both Starks were out of bed and completely in the loop regarding whatever the heck was going on. Mr. Stark was at his bedside and pressing him gently back to the mattress as Mrs. Stark came around to where Happy had been and dropped from sight, too. “Relax, kiddo,” Mr. Stark assured him. “Everyone is safe, no one’s been hurt. It seems, however, that a certain monkey has escaped from the circus...” He glanced down at the floor, grinning.

Mr. Stark’s goofy smirk as he said that confused Peter all the more. “Monkey? There’s a monkey under my bed?” Peter rubbed at his eyes, trying to wake himself up. Nothing was making sense and—

The giggle Peter had only been tangentially aware of earlier suddenly turned into a squeal of delight and Mrs. Stark seemed to magically appear beside her husband with arms full of a dark, curly-haired, purple ruffled, blue legged, yellow rubber booted, mass of—“Morgan H. Stark. You can’t run away from Uncle Happy like that, especially on the med bay floor.” Mrs. Stark lovingly yet firmly chastised the little girl, who decided now was the time to play bashful as she tucked her face into her mother’s neck. “What if you’d woken up Aunt May? And look.” She gave the little girl a nudge, “You definitely woke up poor Peter and gave him an awful fright.”

A small gasp escaped from her and then, “Petey?” The little girl whispered as she snuck a peek at the boy in the bed through the safety of her mother’s hair. She pulled back from her mother after she’d finished with her obvious analysis, and looked up to her for some sort of confirmation. “Mommy? Is that really Petey?”

She planted a kiss on Morgan’s forehead, tearing up slightly as she nodded, “Yes, sweetheart. That’s him.”

She glanced over to Peter again, and he watched as something seemed to click on her little face. “Daddy, did Petey do something hairy-rained again?” She looked over to her father.

“Hairy-rained?” Mr. Stark looked as confused as Peter felt.

“Yeah, you said Petey did hairy-rained things to end up in the med bay all the time, but his hair is dry but he’s here in the bed, so?”

“I don’t know what—“ Mr. Stark cut himself off, then quickly attempted to cover his mouth before he laughed at whatever Peter was missing. “Morgan, I think you meant harebrained... and no, you silly. That’s not what it means and that’s not what this was.” He smiled as he put his hands out to take her in his arms then propped her up on his hip. “Peter has a booboo that needs special medicine so he’s got to stay here for a little bit. That’s all.” Mr. Stark definitely downplayed the whole scenario for Peter’s benefit. “But—“ he hoisted the girl up to steady her, then turned back to Peter , all while ignoring the frown on his wife’s face. “Since you’re already here, would you like to meet him properly?”

Morgan’s head bobbed up and down with an excitement only a child could possess while Peter, shocked at the eagerness he suddenly felt at the prospect, propped himself up on his elbows.

“Oh, no, you don’t, kid. Let me.” Mr. Stark placed his daughter down at the foot of the bed with a look that definitely told her to stay put, and within seconds a controller was in his hand and its back raised with Peter more comfortably propped up. “Now, is that better?”

Peter nodded as he pulled the blanket down off his upper body to free up his arms. “Yeah, thanks,” he smiled tentatively and pulled in a deep breath. He ignored the improved-from-yesterday aches and twinges from his ribs and thigh as he shifted to get a bit more comfortable.

“Good, because you need to brace yourself for the chaos that is the one... the only Morgan H. Stark!” Mr. Stark threw out some pretty epic jazz hands and then cupped his hands around his mouth, pretending he could simulate a crowd gone wild... ish.

Peter and Morgan made eye contact, and then, if Peter had any doubt that Morgan had any part of Mrs. Stark in her, she rolled her eyes and groaned. “Daddy. You’re bein’ weird again.”

Happy snorted, but said nothing.

“You, hush,” Mr. Stark pointed accusingly at his friend. “I still have those pictures from the last time Morgan gave you a pedicure and access to literally every web server on the planet.”

Happy scowled. “That’s low, Tony. Even for you.”

“Oh, you have no idea how low I can go, Harold.” Mr. Stark’s eyes narrowed at the challenge. “Keep it up and a little chat with Quill will have those pics going galactic.”

“Ugh, Daaaaaad-dy!” Morgan rolled her eyes again as she interrupted the grownups. “Stop being mean to Uncle Happy. You still need to tell me that he’s Peter and tell him that I’m Morgan so we can be for real inner-duced!” She gestured over to Peter, who was just trying to keep up with the alternate reality he must have dropped into.

But Mr. Stark faux-sobered and turned his attention to his daughter. “I am so sorry, Little Miss. You’re right. I am being most rude.” He cleared his throat. “Ms. Morgan, please allow me to introduce you to Mr. Peter Benjamin Parker.”

That apparently was all the little girl had been waiting for. “Finally!” she exclaimed, and in a flash, she was gone from her perch by Peter’s knee and throwing herself across his chest and squeezing him for all she’s was worth. “I’m so happy to meet you, Petey! I can’t wait until your better so we can play with my legos, ‘cuz Daddy says you like legos, too—and then we can play pretend and you can be the prince I can be the dragon, ‘cuz princesses are stupid, even though I’m not allowed to say stupid, but they are—and – and – and—

Peter heard nothing of Morgan’s plans as the ringing in his ears and the whitening of his vision coincided with the first knee planting directly over top the line of stitches along his thigh. That the shock of pain was compounded by the herculean rib squeeze of a four year old girl kept him from noticing Mr. Stark’s exclaimed, “Morgan, NO!”

He barely noticed the tiny weight being lifted off his body as he fought back a cry, just inhaled sharp, curled in on himself and rocked as his body try to come back online.

“Easy, Peter. Let it go, bud. You’ve got this,” a voice instructed as someone took a firm hold of his hand.

He couldn’t squeeze back, not with his strength, but he hummed in acknowledgement and released his breath as the peak of pain receded, faster than yesterday, thank goodness for small miracles.

“That’s right. Nice and easy. It’s okay,” the voice... Mr. Stark encouraged.

And after a few more breaths, it was ... sort of. Peter was able to pull up and out of his curl... sort of, and straighten his still stinging leg back to flat on the bed... sort of.

“There you go, Peter.” Mr. Stark leaned towards him and pressed a kiss to his hair. “Good job.”

Peter huffed out a laugh and allowed himself to fully recline into the bed. “Yeah, such a good job.” He pulled in a deeper breath. “My one real skill... what’s the going hourly for not vomiting all over yourself?”

Mr. Stark stepped back and glared. “Hey. There will be no self-sassin’ from you, young man. Now,” Mr. Stark’s face softened and rubbed Peter’s arm in comfort. “Are you really okay? I know that Morgan’s going to be so—“

Morgan?! ”Shit! I mean- Shoot! Morgan!” Peter exclaimed then scanned the room for her. Seeing her, Mrs. Stark and Happy, gone, Peter panicked. “Oh, no! Did I scare her? She just surprised me is all—I’m so sorry— did she—“

Mr. Stark sighed and cut him off. “Hey, Peter—enough.” He squeezed Peter’s arm, having figured that it was one of the better ways to ground him. “She’s fine. Pepper and Happy just took her out to give you a minute to pull yourself together without an audience... and to have a chat about proper behaviour in the med bay.” He glanced once toward the door then focussed back on Peter. “Now answer the question. Are you okay? Morgan landed pretty hard there and after last night...”

Peter worried his lip as he, too, glanced at the door, wondering if he could’ve messed up his first meeting with his—the Stark’s daughter any more. “I’m fine,” he said half-convincingly.

“Then you won’t mind if I take a quick peek at your stitches?”

“Peek?” The question caught Peter off guard. “Why would you want to—“

“Take a look and see if I need to call in the nurse on duty to make sure you’re not haemorrhaging to death while you worry over a four year old girl with plans for world domination? Yeah. Why would I want to do that?” Mr. Stark playfully cuffed the back of Peter’s head. “Look, humour an old man. Let me check and then we can pretend this didn’t happen... or not. Okay?”

Peter rolled his eyes and tossed back his blanket to reveal his leg before crossing his arms in defiance. “Fine, but I already said that I’m—”

“Fine. Yes, geez! Everyone is fine. I hear you, kiddo, but you’ll have to forgive me for not believing a certain someone who is notorious for underplaying just about anything related to your physical wellbeing.”

“Pfft—one time...” Peter grumped as he watched Mr. Stark push back the gauze tape and then lift a corner of the pad.

Mr. Stark didn’t bother to contain his mirth at Peter’s petulance, stopping what he was doing to call him out. “It has been many, many times, you fibby-liar. My own personal favourite ‘I’m fine’ moment is still that time with that gunshot wound to the leg you were trying to cauterize with a soup spoon and a birthday candle. If memory serves, you insisted you were actually ‘super-fine’ that time.”

Peter flushed in embarrassment and said nothing. He knew he wasn’t going to win this one.

Mr. Stark’s grin proved that he knew it, too. “I’m sure if I think for a minute, I could tell you what May’s and Happy’s favourites are, too. In fact—“

“Okay, I’ve got it!” Peter threw his hands up in frustration, much to Mr. Stark’s delight. “Can you please just tell me what the damage is so you can leave me in peace to die of utter humiliation?”

Peter barely dodged Mr. Stark’s hair ruffling attempt. “Geez—and they say I’m a drama queen. Alright, then, let’s get this party started.” Refocusing, Mr. Stark pulled the wrapped gauze back then cautiously lifted a corner of cotton pad protecting his wound, “Aaaaaand—it looks like your toast and a shake helped you out just enough to save the day!” Mr. Stark smiled and pulled the covering back a little more so Peter could see for himself. “It’s not perfect, but if I were to wager a guess, these stitches may even be able to come out.”

“REALLY!?” Peter had closed his eyes, not wanting to look, sure that his Parker Luck would come into play and his thigh would be a mess of gore and popped stitches, but sure enough—“Holy cow!” Peter shifted to take a look. It wasn’t perfect, that was clear, but the harsh pink line was. Peter wasn’t going to acknowledge that it still looked a little puffy. “Do you think Dr. Cho will let me go upstairs now? It’s practically all closed now, so...”

Mr. Stark’s face softened at his eagerness. “You know it wasn’t just the stitches, Peter, but it’s a start.” He patted the mattress by Peter’s leg and stepped back. “How’s about you see about consuming that shake you still have stashed there,” he pointed to the head of Peter’s bed, “while I go grab someone to come and take care of the leg. Sound good?”

Peter nodded, trying to keep the disappointment off of his face, which must have worked.

Mr. Stark grinned and patted his hand. “Awesome. I’ll be back in a flash.” With a wink, Mr. Stark headed out of the room and was on the hunt for whoever was staffing the floor that day.

Peter counted to ten in his head and then sighed. He was exhausted, and every little thing was compounding it—the stressful wake up call, his botched introduction to Morgan—even his brief interaction with Mr. Stark seemed to be taking a toll.

He pulled in a deeper breath than he could yesterday, thank goodness, and closed his eyes. If he could rest for a minute or two, he could try to tackle the whole shake thing and hopefully not barf all over himself—last night had been a near thing so...

Yeah, he wouldn’t think about last night—or yesterday—or the day before, or May or any of it. He just needed to quiet his mind. Please be quiet, and then he could pretend that—

It was barely a minute later that tiny footfalls approached the room, then stopped at its entrance. “Petey?” A little voice whispered. “Are you asleep or pretendin’?”

Not able to help it, he smiled a little and lolled his head toward the doorway as he opened his eyes. “Not asleep... and not pretending. Just trying, is all.”

She squirmed a bit as she stood there, nervous fingers twisting the hem of the pink Batman t-shirt Peter hadn’t specifically noticed the first time he’d seen her.

“Morgan? Are you alright?” Peter asked.

She came further into the room. “Oh. Yeah.” Morgan nodded. “But, ummm... I jus’ wanna say I’m sorry. Mommy says just ‘cuz I’m ‘cited doesn’t mean I shouldn’ be careful, an’ I wasn’ so I’m really sorry for jumpin’ on you and hurtin’ your leg.” She gnawed at her bottom lip, and then pondered deeply for a beat more before adding, “Yeah. Tha’s it.” With that declaration, Morgan came up to his bedside, put her hands up in the air and stared imploringly at Peter, still sitting in the bed.

And then she kept them there.

“Um?” Peter was growing more confused by the second and finally had to ask, “What are you doing?”

Morgan wiggled her little body in anticipation then smiled before answering. “I’m waiting for my hug, is all.”

“Hug?” Had he missed a step somewhere? “Why?”

Once more, Morgan rolled her eyes, “You’re so silly, Petey. It’s the ‘I forgive you’ part!” Yup, she was definitely Mrs. Stark’s daughter. “Daddy says that’s how you know you mean it... but Daddy also says it’s the best part ‘cuz I give the best hugs, too, so you gotta’.” She did a little dance, arms still up and then stopped. A spark of realization came to her and her brow furrowed as she contemplated. “But you’re still hurt so you can’t so...” Her arms dropped, and with an agility only a four year old could pull off, Morgan scampered up the side of the bed and plopped down on the mattress beside Peter, kicking off her cumbersome boots as she went. “There,” she declared as she then shifted and got up onto her knees, facing Peter with anticipation. “If I promise t’ be careful, can I give you a hug that won’ hurt your booboos?”

Peter couldn’t imagine that anyone could ever say no to Morgan Stark—not with those big, expressive brown eyes, so much like her dad’s— and after the last couple of days, nothing sounded better, so he nodded dumbly, moved some of the extra length of IV tubing out of the way and then opened his arms up to receive the most gentle hug he’d ever received in his life.

“Is this okay, Petey?” Morgan asked softly. “’m not hurtin’ you?”

Peter shook his head ‘no’ as his eyes watered and gave her a light squeeze back. “Nope. I’m good, Morgan. Thanks for the hug.”

“Y’er welcome.” He could hear the smile in her voice, then she hummed. “You give good hugs, Petey.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “Daddy always said he bet you’d give the best hugs, too.”

Peter blinked as he processed her words, hastily brushing away the tear that fell. “He said that?”

“M-hm.” She nodded into his shoulder. “An’ he said when you came back, he’d give you a million hugs an’ eat gross pineapple pizza with you an’ watch Star Wars with you an’—” Morgan’s... Mr. Stark’s to-do list was interrupted by a huge yawn and then Morgan’s focus shifted. “Can I watch Star Wars with you, too?” she asked. “Daddy says it migh’ be too scary for me still but if you’re there maybe he’ll say yes?” She lifted her head to see his response, blinking sleepily as she waited for it.

And Peter was a goner.

“Sure, Morgan. I’ll talk to your dad and we’ll watch it together—maybe when I come back upstairs?”

Getting enough of a reassurance that she’d get her way eventually, Morgan smiled, giggled, and pulled away, but now only so she could snuggle herself into the crook of Peter’s arm. “Yay! This is gonna be awwwwe-some—“ Her words stretched with another, bigger yawn. “Big brothers are so cool.”

Peter choked. “What?” He floundered as he tried to find the right words. He knew what the Starks had said last night, no part of him thought that they’d actually meant it! But Morgan had said it... and meant it with every fibre of her four year old being.

Peter Parker was a big brother.

Morgan seemed clueless to Peter’s newest crisis and was on to another tangent in a blink. “Did you know that I when I woke up this mornin’, the sun wasn’t even out yet? An’ I couldn’ even see the trees! But I was so super e’cited so I got dressed all by myself an’ then I begged and begged...” Morgan’s next yawn was wider yet. “But Uncle Happy loves me so we got to come now.” Her tiny fists rubbed at tired eyes.

Peter was trying to pull it together and not fixate on what had just tumbled so innocently out of Morgan’s mouth. He’d need to come back to this later, but for now Peter moved onto the one thing he thought he could maybe manage. “Uh, are you sleepy, Morgan?” He shifted carefully so he could see more of her. “Did you want to nap a little?

She contemplated for a few moments, but then nodded. “Uh-huh, but you can’ tell Uncle Happy ‘cuz he’ll say he tol’ me so...’”

Which brought Peter to a new concern— “Wait a sec’. Morgan? Where exactly is Happy?” Peter glanced at the door, wondering if he should be worried that no one had come looking for her.

Morgan shifted, getting more comfortable. “The grownups were talkin’ by the desk. ‘cuz they were waitin’ for the nurse but they were bein’ sooo boring already so I came back here to visit you.”

Peter sighed. “But did you tell anyone you were coming in? They might be worried about you, you know.” He wondered how long he had before the three adults came barrelling into the room looking for her.

“Nu-uh,” Morgan rubbed her eyes. “Ms. FRIDAY?” Morgan called out into the room. “Can you please tell Mommy and Daddy that I’m with my brother?”

There was that word again. Peter’s heart jumped. He’d heard what Mr. and Mrs. Stark had said, but to hear it tumble so easily...

“I will send that message along, Little Boss,” FRIDAY interrupted his thoughts and Peter could hear the message being immediately relayed in the hallway. No one came rushing back into the room though, so at least that wasn’t a concern for the moment.

Morgan wriggled again, no spot seeming to be quite right for her.

Peter guessed he could fix that so he asked, “Would you like me to make the bed a little more flat, Morgan?”

“Yes, please,” she said then moved away from Peter as he grabbed at the bed controller to lower the back of the bed.

Peter smiled softly as Morgan whispered a, “wheeee...” and then reached down to pull Peter’s blankets up and over her shoulders, her blanketed silhouette looking rather odd for the bunching of ruffles making their presence known. “Thank you,” she said softly, and closed her eyes.

Peter waited a couple of minutes, not quite sure what to do with himself. She’d snuggled up to him almost immediately, then rolled over trying to find a comfier spot, which meant what? Peter could only assume that he’d served his purpose so, using his spidey-stealth, Peter slid out of the bed. Assured that she hadn’t been disturbed, he straightened the blankets just a little so Morgan would be comfier and then gently lowered himself in the chair stationed between his and Mr. Stark’s bed.

Morgan, already almost asleep, mumbled, “Mmm-‘ove you, Petey. G’night,” and drifted off completely.

What the—? Had she just—? Did she say—? Peter blinked as his brain tried to process what exactly had just happened in the last few minutes.

“Well, kid,” Mr. Stark startled Peter as he spoke softly from the doorway, “Either you’ve been hit by a bus or you’ve officially been whammied by our Little Miss. And seeing as you are upright and not sporting any tire tracks, I’ll assume it was the latter.”

Caught off guard, Peter jumped in his seat, “Geez!” Peter whisper-yelled as he clutched at his chest and glared at the man. “Give a guy some warning!”

Mr. Stark just chuckled and stepped into the room. “I’ve been watching you now for a good few minutes, Peter. I’m pretty sure you weren’t going to notice anything save a wrecking ball coming through the wall. Now,” Mr. Stark gave the room a quick glance. ‘I’d say you shouldn’t be out of bed until one of the staff gets in here to check things out but...” He gestured with a nod toward the tiny figure in the bed. “Been there, done that, totally get it.” Mr. Stark did take another second to assess. “The IV isn’t pulling or anything?”

Peter waved his IV’d hand casually through the air. “Nah, it’s all good.” Answering that was easier than trying to figure out how to process the whole Morgan thing.

“Is it?” Mr. Stark crooked an eyebrow.

And Peter knew that he was asking about more than his IV, or even getting kicked out his bed, but he just... couldn’t, so he just shrugged in reply. “I guess?” He couldn’t even

Mr. Stark didn’t say anything at first, only walked to the corner of the room to grab an extra chair and placed it beside Peter. “Do you mind if I sit here?” Mr. Stark asked and then waited expectantly.

Peter stared blankly at him for a moment then asked, “Are you pulling my leg or are you honestly asking me that? I mean, like, you own the building, so... you can literally sit wherever you want,”

“Yeah, well... as my sainted mother always said, ‘Manners maketh the man,’ and all that jazz.”

“But wasn’t that a quote from that movie with Mark Hamill in it?”

Now Mr. Stark rolled his eyes, “No, smart ass... I mean yes... and it starred Colin Firth, NOT Mark Hamill, by the way. But that’s besides the point. It was a quote used waaaay before the movie made it famous, hence my mom saying it. I’m pretty sure it’s Shakespeare, actually—And you haven’t answered my question yet. Can I sit here or...?” Mr. Stark stood patiently.

Realizing that Mr. Stark wasn’t trying to be funny, Peter nodded quickly and gestured to the chair. “Oh. Yeah, yeah. Of course.”

Mr. Stark’s eyes still looked tired, and crinkled a little more than Peter remembered from before as he smiled and took a seat. “I’m not quite sure why I’m even bothering. Your nurse is dealing with something out there quickly and will be in to check on you in a minute or two. I imagine we’ll get you up into the other bed and let Morgan get her beauty rest.”

“Makes sense, I guess.” Peter agreed then fell quiet for a moment, the mention of the nurse starting his brain cycling through it all again. “But...” he then continued hesitantly, “Everything’s okay with May, right? Nothing else has gone wrong?”

Mr. Stark seemed determined to keep Peter calm. “She’s as okay as she can be,” he assured Peter with a firm hand on his shoulder. “Mornings will be a little busier a little earlier for the next week or so, remember? With the dialysis and antibiotics and such?”

And Peter did. “Yeah, I remember... thanks.” He gnawed on his lip then spoke again. “And you’re feeling okay?”

“Yeah, kid. I’m feeling okay. Honest—This,” Mr. Stark waves his hand in front of his chest, “was way more dramatic than it was damaging. I promise.”

Peter nodded but said nothing.

Stupid brain.

Mr. Stark was okay.

May was okay.

“Oh! You’re breakfast tray will be up soon, by the way.” Mr. Stark piped up. Peter wondered if he knew that Peter was trying not to spiral.

He nodded again. “Cool.”

“And Pepper checked just before I came in... you’re boiled potatoes will be coming up, too, so bonus points for Mr. Devon, am I right?”

Peter half-smiled as he replied with a, “Yup,” though Peter was barely listening at that point.

There was so much to grasp—and it just kept on and on...

“I think he may have actually had his wife bring potatoes from home so he could accommodate. There’s no way he found a grocery store that sells potatoes open this early, am I right? I should probably get her a gift card as a thank you? Seems like the thing to do, yeah?”

“Sure,” Peter said, but his mind had already drifted back to his catalogue of thoughts he was trying not to freak out about all over again—May was okay... Mr. Stark was okay...

“I thought of promoting Mr. Devon to elephant trainer as a thank you, too. What do you think? It’ll come with a new uniform and everything.”

“That would be great Mr. Stark.” And Morgan? That had been an insane first meet... and the whole brother thing?

“His bonus would be literal peanuts, but hey...”

“Yeah, sounds good... wait—what?” Peter brought his focus back to the man seated beside him. “What are you talking about?”

Mr. Stark shrugged, “Well, if you were going to be weird, I figured I’d be weird too.”

“I wasn’t being weird,” Peter grumped back, I was just distracted.” The second the word left his mouth, he knew it was a mistake that Mr. Stark could latch onto and...

“Yeah, she is a bit much sometimes, but we love her.”

Peter turned toward Mr. Stark, surprised, yet not to see that his focus was solely on his daughter.

“So was it that she said she loves you that freaked you out, or something else?”

Okay—that was where Mr. Stark’s concern fell. Good. Morgan was confusing, but still the least confusing part of the past few days... well, now that Peter knew about her.

Peter cleared his throat. “She called me her brother.”

Mr. Stark didn’t look away from her, but smiled for Peter nonetheless. “I’m pretty sure we covered this last night, Peter.”

“I mean... not really? I just—“ Peter was shocked to find himself tearing up. “I’m not surprised that she knows about me. I just didn’t expect her to think of me that way without...”

“Aw, buddy, come here.” Mr. Stark put an arm around him and pulled him close and pressed a firm kiss to his hair before resting his head against Peter’s. “If you think, for one second, that we would not have told your sister about the coolest, smartest, kindest kid we knew, you are sorely mistaken.“

Peter sniffed and shook his head in disbelief.

“Well, believe it or not, it’s the truth. I’m a little worried that we may have played you up too much.” Mr. Stark teased. “She’ll be in for a bit of a shock once she actually gets to know you in all of your teenaged grossness.”

Peter snorted and pushed playfully against his mentor. “No she won’t, ‘cuz I’ll be the best big brother ever, and then you’ll be in for it.”

“And why do you think that? I’ll have you know that Morgan loves me ‘3000’—told me so just a couple of weeks ago, so I am and always will be her obvious favourite.”

Not able to let that lie, Peter countered, “She hasn’t had a chance to climb a wall with me yet. You know that’ll be a game changer.”

“If I buy her an alpaca...” Mr. Stark thought he’d gained the upper hand.

“Do you really think Mrs. Stark is gonna let you buy Morgan an alpaca?”

Mr. Stark deflated beside him. “Crap. You’re right. Darn it.” He sighed heavily. “So what you’re saying is I’m doomed, huh?”

Peter knew exactly how Mr. Stark meant it, but it hurt Peter’s heart nonetheless. How both a sudden hope and hopelessness could battle within him and ruin even this beautiful moment.

Damned Parker Luck was going to come and ruin it all.

Peter shifted and rested his head on Mr. Stark’s shoulder. Here, at least, the man couldn’t see as Peter blinked back another round of tears. “Yeah, Mr. Stark, I’m afraid you are.”

#fanfiction #AO3 fanfic #a03 fanfic #OBlossom #Avengers: Endgame #non-compliant #One Week Later

0 notes

rufferto9 · 1 day

Text

Master Art Post for Lost To Time - Stucky big bang Team 13A

lost to time (1878 words) by burning_brighter, rufferto Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Miss Minutes (Loki TV), Sam Wilson (Marvel), Loki (Marvel) Additional Tags: Time Travel, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Not Canon Compliant, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary: As Steve returns the last Infinity Stone, he realizes there is nothing for him to return to in 2024. His friends, the ones who are still here, have families they want to be with or people they need to help. Steve has no one. Bucky died in 1944, Natasha died on Vormir, Tony perished in the fight with Thanos. What is he supposed to do? There are many options in front of him, though before he can make up his mind, a ghost from his past appears. Could it really be his Bucky?

The chapter with the second art has not yet been posted.

#stuckybigbang2024 #stucky #buckybarnes #tva #miss minutes #steve rogers #steve rogers/bucky barnes

14 notes · View notes

late-to-the-party-81 · 6 months

Text

Time spent with you is never wasted

AN: Here is something completely different to my last little one-shot. Have some sickeningly sweet, domestic supersoldier husbands.

Beta’d by @deafeningkittenking. Moodboard by me and divider by @firefly-graphics

This fic covers the following bingo squares

@buckybarnesbingo: U5 - Snowed In

@stuckybingo: N4 - Domesticity

@steverogersbingo: E2 - Holidays

Master list | BBB Master list | Stucky Bingo Master list | SRB Master list

Join my tag list here

Summary: A little break away, just the two of them. Whatever shall Steve and Bucky do when they get snowed in?

Relationship: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Word count: 2.2k

CW: Sickening Fluff, Not Endgame Compliant, Supersoldier Husbands, Domestic Fluff, Flirting, Smut, Top Bucky, Bottom Steve, Ass Eating, Coming untouched, Anal fingering, Anal Sex

I’m dreaming of a White Christmas,

Just like the ones I used to know…

Bucky scoffed as he listened to the music, causing Steve to chuckle.

“What have you taken umbrage to in this song? We haven’t found one yet that you actually like.”

Bucky smiled and shook his head as he walked away from the window of their holiday cabin and crossed to the small kitchenette. He slotted himself behind Steve, who was standing at the counter measuring ingredients, wearing a Santa Claus apron. Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s trim waist and rested his head on his husband’s shoulder, watching as Steve added spoonfuls of sugar to the bowl and the needle on the scales went round.

“First of all,” Bucky muttered into Steve’s navy tee, “the White Christmases I remember were more ice on the inside of the windows and dirty slush in the streets - nothing you’d want to willingly remember, and secondly, if you’re dreaming about the type of White Christmas that’s currently outside this window, you need your head read.”

Bucky reached out and gesticulated out of the huge floor to ceiling windows to the large drifts covering the ground as far as the eye could see, and the current snowfall that was nearer to the word ‘blizzard’ than it was to ‘flurry’.

There had already been snow on the ground when they’d driven up yesterday afternoon, but it had continued overnight, and when they’d woken up this morning - late for Steve, but a bit early still for Bucky - they’d discovered they’d been snowed in. Luckily though, they’d been planning to be here for a few days anyway, and had organised a suitable food delivery in advance. This was a holiday treat just for them - a private getaway before the hustle and bustle of a full Avengers ‘family’ Christmas.

At least, Bucky thought as he looked out at the snow, Steve wouldn’t try to get up for a run at the crack of dawn, and would need to find another way to work off his excess energy, like he had this morning

“I think it looks nice,” said Steve.

Bucky snorted. “‘Looks’ being the operative word here, pal. It’s a good thing that we’ve got nothing else to do other than relax, eat food and get lucky.” He slid his right hand down from Steve’s waist to lightly grope his cock through his sweatpants. Steve rapped Bucky’s arm with his wooden spoon.

“Hey, hands off the merchandise. At least until after these cookies have been baked,” Steve chastised.

“But I can’t help it if you look sexy with a sprinkle of flour across your cheek, my Domestic God,” Bucky teased, pressing his lips into Steve’s neck and making him squirm, before reluctantly pulling back and turning to lean against the countertop. “And what if instead of cookies I want cake?” He let his eyes blatantly roam over Steve’s ass, just imagining feasting on the plump flesh, Steve trembling and crying beneath him…

“My eyes are up here, Buck.”

Bucky smirked. “I know. Just admiring your other assets.”

Now it was Steve’s turn to smile. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“Just madly in love, and no-one would blame me.”

Steve leant towards Bucky, wooden spoon still in hand, and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr Barnes-Rogers, but for now you’ll just have to wait.”

Bucky sighed dramatically, but settled in to do as asked. He watched Steve with a heated look as he finished making the cookie dough, rolled and cut it, then popped it in the oven. Straightening up, Steve met Bucky’s gaze, holding it as he slowly removed his flour-streaked apron and threw it on the counter.

“I’m going to wash up,” he said, pointedly. “The cookies need ten minutes, then you can take them out, leave to cool on the tray for two minutes then place on the rack.” He sashayed over to Bucky and wrapped his arms around Bucky’s middle. “You can do that for me, can’t you, Buck? I’ll make it worth your while…”

Steve pressed his body in close and kissed Bucky slowly, but deeply, before stepping away and walking towards the bedroom with an exaggerated sway to his hips.

Bucky just gawked, his brain trying to regain control from his dick long enough to remember what it was that Steve had asked him to do. While Steve did pout oh-so-prettily, it wouldn’t be worth it to forget, because Steve was also the biggest grudge holder Bucky had ever known. So, despite the fact that his dick was basically screaming at him to follow Steve into the shower, press him against the tiles and get him all dirty again, Bucky waited.

He waited until the timer went off, taking the golden brown sugar cookies out as directed. He waited a further two minutes for the cookies to firm up before using a palette knife to transfer them to the wire rack. He then forced himself to walk at a sensible speed to the bedroom, getting there just as Steve walked out of the en-suite, a small white towel wrapped snugly around his hips and another in his hand as he scrubbed at his blond hair.

It was then that Bucky allowed his self control to snap. In a few long strides he reached Steve, pulled the towel from his hand and threw it to the floor. His hands then cupped Steve’s cheeks and he started to kiss him. His tongue teased the seam of Steve’s lips and Steve opened to him, his own arms sliding around Bucky’s neck.

Bucky continued to walk forward, backing Steve up, until Steve’s legs hit the mattress and they both tumbled down onto it. The towel around Steve’s hips came loose almost straight away, meaning there was nothing to impede Bucky’s progress as he palmed at Steve’s cock once again. Encouraged by the movement of Steve’s hips and the little groan that came from his mouth, Bucky slid down Steve’s body, trailing kisses and little nips with his teeth. He took a long, slow detour over Steve’s pecs, sucking on his pert, pink nipples and relishing in the way Steve writhed beneath him. As he descended further, Steve’s hands tangled in his hair and tugged on it deliciously.

A long lick was the only attention Bucky paid to Steve’s cock as he reached it, feeling in the mood to tease his husband a bit. He then forced his thick arms and broad shoulders under Steve’s thighs and tugged him to the edge of the bed. His hands spread his husband wide and Bucky took a moment to look at Steve’s most intimate parts. Blond hair dusted Steve’s upper thighs, darkening around his crotch and ass. He wasn’t stripped bare, like they’d seen in modern pornography, but did keep himself tidy. Not that Bucky would have cared either way. Steve could have a full on jungle down here and Bucky would just declare himself a wilderness scout.

Steve’s skin was still wet from his shower, and Bucky could smell the combination of Steve’s favourite three in one shower gel along with his own, potent musk. He turned his face into the soft skin of Steve’s inner thigh and breathed in deeply, before taking the delicate flesh between his lips and sucking on it, leaving his mark. Steve whimpered and pulled on Bucky’s hair, trying to direct him to where he wanted him the most, but Bucky wouldn’t be rushed.

His nose brushed over Steve’s hole as he trailed his lips over more of the sensitive areas surrounding it, humming to himself almost absently as he worshipped his husband. He couldn’t hold back a smile at Steve’s punched out little noises of need and garbled whispers of “Buck… please!” Eventually though, he capitulated to his own lusts and Steve’s pleas, swiping his tongue straight over the furled muscle nestled between the globes of Steve’s ass.

Steve let out a low, moan, and Bucky was glad they were in an isolated cabin, miles from anyone or anything, because his favourite thing in the world was to hear Steve let go and just feel. It was something they’d never been able to do, back in the day, when they’d had to be covert in their small apartment. Now though, there was nothing Bucky enjoyed more than hearing Steve moan wantonly at the top of his lungs.

Bucky shifted his grip to take handfuls of that luscious ass, unable to resist squeezing and massaging Steve’s flesh as he ran his tongue over Steve’s hole and up his taint to his balls. He continued in this way, making Steve all wet, messy and overwhelmingly needy before moving on.

Moving his hands to the backs of Steve’s thighs, Bucky spread him even wider. Steve abandoned his hold on Bucky’s hair in order to hold his own legs to his chest, baring himself. A heartbeat later, Bucky was burying his face as far into Steve’s ass as he could, spearing his tongue into his husband’s spit-slick hole. Steve practically wailed.

Bucky ate Steve like a man starved, pushing his tongue in as deep as it would go. His nose now pushed against Steve’s taint, and therefore his prostate, so he rocked with it, fucking Steve with his mouth. God, Steve was glorious when he was like this. All fuck drunk and needy, desperate to cum.

It was some kind of sixth sense, or maybe just a change to how Steve’s right leg was leaning against him, that let Bucky know that Steve had let go to try and take hold of his cock. Bucky batted Steve’s hand away with a muffled growl and then pulled back, eliciting a disappointed whimper from Steve’s red, bitten lips.

“You come on my tongue, Stevie. I know you can,” Bucky commanded and then dove back in, doubling down on his lewd sucking and slurping, while Steve babbled above him.

“Oh, God! Bucky! Fuck! Gonna come. Gonna…”

Bucky smiled to himself as Steve’s legs trembled and his ass tensed as he spilled all over his own abs. Bucky slowed down his ministrations, swapping to gentle licks of his tongue and soft kisses, as the waves of euphoria slowed their progress through Steve’s body. When they finally subsided, Bucky pulled back, letting out a groan of his own as he took in how debauched Steve looked.

He dragged his henley off over the back of his head, taking the chance to wipe his spit covered face, then he shucked off his sweats, and without worry of the cooling, sticky mess smeared over Steve’s skin, he covered his husband's frame with his own and kissed him long and deep. Steve was still hard and their dicks brushed against each other as they kissed, Steve shuddering from the sensitivity. It wasn’t long before they were rocking against each other with more vigour, Steve wrapping his legs around Bucky’s waist, keeping him close.

“Buck…”, Steve murmured. “Please…”

Bucky pulled his lips from Steve’s and grinned down at him, brushing a lock of his blond hair from his face. “You need me, doll?”

“Always need you. Every day. Every minute if I could,” came the breathy response.

“Well,” replied Bucky, kissing down Steve’s neck. “I’d better not keep you waiting then.” He grabbed a pillow and pushed it under Steve’s hips before grabbing the bottle of lube from the top of the bedside table. His first finger slid in easily, and Bucky gazed upon Steve, fire in his eyes, as Steve fisted the sheets and moaned. Bucky added a second finger, stretching Steve out and trying not to aim for his prostate too often.

It wasn’t long before Steve half sat up, grabbing at Bucky’s arm and stilling his hand. “I’m ready, sweetheart. Please! Don’t wanna wait anymore”

Bucky chuckled and pulled his fingers free. “Okay, baby. I got you. I got you.” He pushed Steve back down, slicked up his own straining cock, and slotted himself into the V of Steve’s legs. He entwined his right hand with Steve’s left as he guided himself into Steve’s molten heat with his other hand. This was one of his favourite feelings. It was like coming home. Whether it was 1939, 2029, or somewhere in between, being with Steve like this was all he ever wanted or needed.

He began to roll his hips and gave himself over to the sensations surrounding him. He hovered over Steve, watching his husband’s facial expression from between hooded eyelids as he moved, slowly building the pleasure between them. Steve panted and murmured unintelligible things, his hand tightening on Bucky’s as he was driven higher and higher.

As Bucky felt himself get closer to his own peak, he changed the angle of his hips, so that he could now brush over Steve’s prostate with each thrust. Steve’s fucked out noises changed pitch as his orgasm rapidly approached, his thighs clenched around Bucky’s waist so tightly that, had Bucky not also been a supersoldier, he could easily have been crushed.

“God, love these noises of yours, Stevie,” Bucky muttered. “Love hearing how you sound taking my cock, and you take it so well, doll. Almost there. Almost there.” He didn’t know if Steve was actually listening to him, lost in his pleasure as he was, but it didn’t really matter because Bucky was there, tipping over the precipice and pouring himself into Steve. “Oh, God!”

Steve grasped his own cock with his free hand, giving himself a rough few jerks so he could follow Bucky off the edge.

A couple of minutes later, when they could both breathe properly again, Bucky propped himself up on his elbows and pressed butterfly kisses to Steve’s smiling, flushed face.

“That’s three times in two days. We should go on holiday and get snowed in more often, if this is what it leads to,” he said between the kisses.

“I have a feeling that this would happen on any holiday, snow or no snow,” Steve teased back.

“Well,” said Bucky, tilting his head to the side and trying not to laugh, “maybe we should test that theory?”

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky’s neck and pulled him back down for another kiss. “Maybe we should. But in the meantime, wanna make it four times in two days?”

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @doasyoudesireandlive, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @km-ffluv

#stucky #stucky fanfic #steve x bucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #buckybarnesbingo2023 #stucky bingo #steve rogers bingo

32 notes · View notes