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naeverse · 10 months

Text

Lapdog

🐩staring: NerdMiguel x QueenBee Reader

💗 preview: “Damn, sounds like you want a lapdog.” Peter chuckled, returning to your conversation as MJ followed suit in his laughter, which only made your smile broaden.

“It does…doesn't it?

🌸Summary: You, Queen Bee, have been desiring a little assistant for a while—someone who can fetch you things, do your work, assist you in any way possible, and just make life much easier. However, after witnessing a surprising occurrence with one of the lamest students on campus, Miguel O'Hara, you believe you've found just that, and maybe something even better...

💗rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🐩tw/cw. Blackmail, Caught in the act, College AU, Demeaning, Desperation, Dirty talk, Dominance, Handjob, Masturbation, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Ownership, Public Masturbation, Power Differences, Praising, Public, Sex toys, Vibrator, etc…

🌸Word count: 9k

Small, quiet whimpers escaped the lips of the burly man to your left. His head lowered in an attempt to hide as he diligently tackled your college work. His large, left hand trembled while he solved long math equations, expressions, logarithms, and whatever else the packet held. You shifted your gaze from the four-eyed male to two others seated at your booth.

Peter B. Parker, the captain of the football team and the golden boy of the school, sat across from you, alongside his girlfriend, Mary Jane Watson, or MJ, who was the editor of the college newspaper. They cuddled up against each other, with MJ on his chest and his arm wrapped around her.

The two were considered your "friends" at the university, forming the famous clique that instilled fear and envy in the entire student body. However, between the adored football jock and the news girl, you, on the other hand, were a much bigger deal.

Everyone knew your name, and if they didn't, you were seen as an utter disgrace due to your cluelessness.

You were known as the university's queen bee.

Everyone loved or hated you; you didn't care. Any attention was welcome. You were the leader of the notorious sorority house of baddies, with a rich family that could drop and sue anyone with the drop of a hat. You could control the student body in masses with just a word, and had everyone, even the staff, wrapped around your pretty, manicured finger.

Whatever you said went, and don't you fucking dare think otherwise; you'd be an idiot to challenge the queen. Having the ability to turn any person into a complete nobody, withering away in debts and charges, kept everyone in their place.

But you wouldn't exactly say Peter and MJ were your friends, just students at college who possessed a certain kind of power that was highly useful to have in your corner.

Peter and his kind, sweet persona solidified bonds with other universities and the dean themselves. He was the face of your campus and was hella popular.

MJ headed the media, and whatever she said or wrote in the newspaper or the college blog was believed by everyone on campus, even if it was false.

Not that anyone would know...

Peter, MJ, and you were at the top of the food chain at your university; no one else mattered and was worth the time.

So why the hell was this lowlife sitting at your booth?

Miguel O'Hara, known as the nerdiest of the nerds on your college campus, sat beside you at your usual booth in Mama's diner, your clique's hangout spot.

To be fair, you didn't classify Miguel as such; more of a loner because he didn't look like a nerd. His body was covered in bulging muscles that contrasted greatly with his quiet persona. He had a towering height that rose above most of the football team, and he got attention from girls.

Or, well...

Girls gave him attention, not like the guy minded them.

He kept to himself, always having his nose stuck in a book. To make him even more of a dork, he worked at the school library. Due to his elusive nature and how hard he was to categorize, the loner had gained a distasteful reputation; many students on campus hated him as a result.

Was he a jock due to his bulging muscles, a bad boy due to his mysteriousness and constant desire for solitude, or was he a nerd for always being found reading, and whenever he spoke, only intellectual things came out?

He was a tricky case.

And not one you cared about until today…

You never would have paid the introverted male any attention if it weren't for you, this morning, stumbling into the library in search of someone to do your homework. Instead of finding a lowlife in waiting, you found something much better…

You found Miguel in his office, located at the far back of the library, moaning and jerking off under his desk. To make matters worse, AirPods adorned his ears, blocking out any awareness of your presence. You even leaned over his shoulder to discover that he was clearly watching porn.

He was definitely an amateur...

But a needy little thing he was...

The sight before you was an honest gold mine, something that would be perfect for MJ to post on the school blog as you captured a video of the surprising occurrence.

It was hard to fathom how much his reputation, if he had one, would plummet once the entire school got a look at this. But then, being the cunning queen you were, you had a better idea for that video…

You decided to use it as a means to have an around-the-clock assistant that would come running at your every beck and call, at any given time. It was a great idea, especially with the lowlife not being unpleasant to the eyes.

So now here he was, being a good little puppy for you and doing your homework, except...

It didn't seem like your associates were too pleased with your puppy’s presence.

You met Peter's gaze, his amber eyes furrowed in confusion as he glanced from you to the muscular loner and back again. "Okay, why the hell is he here?" he finally asked after a while of just staring at the two of you. A smirk spread across your lips at his question. "I believe you have eyes, Peter. He's doing my homework," you simply said with a sly grin, continuing your subtle movements under the table, which only made the geek clench his pencil even more.

Peter and MJ recognized that look on you, that sneaky smile you wore whenever you were up to no good. But this time, they couldn't quite put a finger on what it was and how it involved the four-eyed freak.

MJ looked between you and Miguel as well, her cherry lips pursing. "Why here, though?" she asked, her head still resting against Peter's chest. "Most of the time when we meet at Mama's diner, we gossip, we talk about deep stuff. We can't do that with him here," she acknowledged, motioning to Miguel in the corner, who seemed very focused on solving a long ass math problem.

You couldn't help but look over at him as well, taking in the sight of his heavy breathing and faintly red cheeks, before looking back at your associates, who still wore expressions of confusion and discomfort. You huffed, giving them a fake pout. “Come on, Miguel won't utter a single word to anyone...

Now, would you?”

You asked, turning to look at the large Latino, his amber orbs covered with a pair of black eyeglasses as he remained silent, adamantly trying to avoid eye contact. You scowled, giving him a tight squeeze, followed by a deep stroke making him jolt. His eyes briefly rolled, his mouth stammering, trying to find his words. “No… I won't.” He said so low and deep you had to lean in to hear him.

You could visibly see him struggling, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead as he tried painstakingly to control his breathing. You grinned, watching him return to work on your math packet like a good little puppy. “See? He can be trusted.” You explained with a smile, continuing your tantalizing play on the nerd, which only made the Latino male suck in a breath and grip his pencil tighter.

You swore you thought the wooden tool would snap in two any second now…

“Fine, but what made you want to bring him of all people?” Peter asked next, turning your gaze onto him. “He holds no power at our Uni. He’s useless to us.” He said with a chuckle, running his fingers through his girlfriend's red hair. You chuckled at his belief that the four-eyed male was ‘useless’;

Currently, he was everything but…

“You know how much I wanted my own little assistant for some time.” You replied with a smirk, tracing Miguel under the table, feeling your fingers begin to become further coated in his essence. “As in someone who can fetch me things, do my work,

Satisfy my every need…”

You abruptly squeezed Miguel once more, a sudden audible groan passing his lips, gaining everyone's attention. Peter and MJ glanced over at Miguel with raised eyebrows before just brushing it off as the geek having one of his weird moments.

Subtly, you shot the dweeb a glare, making his ears redden and clear his throat. He flicked his pencil around in his thick fingers, beginning to erase a mistake he made due to your harsh grip before you turned back to your associates with a nonchalant smile.

“Damn, sounds like you want a lapdog.” Peter chuckled, returning to your conversation as MJ followed suit in his laughter, which only made your smile broaden.

“It does…doesn't it?”

You whispered, glancing over at Miguel, who was trying not to acknowledge your gaze, seeming to be very interested in the ways of Calculus II.

“Aww… Peter, you know me so well.” You thought with a small grin, continuing to stroke the trembling male. You could feel the dweeb strain underneath his black jeans, enjoying how greatly he was trying to hide his pleasure. With your thumb, you brushed over his sensitive tip, making him whimper loudly, despite his effort to suppress it by biting his lip.

You shot him another stern look, slightly relieved to hear a groan of annoyance from MJ at the same time. At her outburst, it drew your attention over to her to see she was looking over at the workers in Mama's diner who were diligently working in the kitchen area of the diner. “Gosh, we've been sitting here for 20 minutes, and our order still isn't here.” She whined, crossing her arms over her chest like a pouty child in the grocery store.

“Come on, baby, it should be out in a little bit,” Peter whispered, trying to comfort her. You couldn’t help rolling your eyes at her dramatics. MJ always did this to get attention, Peter’s attention in particular, who you’ve noticed was staring at you a lot more than usual upon entering Mama’s diner today.

You met MJ’s blue eyes, giving her a tight-lipped smile. “Actually, why don't you two go check it out? See what's the hold-up?” You proposed, glancing over at Miguel to see his defined Adam's apple bob at your words, his nervousness only exciting you further.

Oblivious to your proposal and the fact that you, the queen, said it, Peter and MJ nodded and slid out of the booth. You watched in the corner of your eye as they walked away from your table and towards the front of the diner.

‘Now the fun can begin…’

You thought, a wicked grin spreading across your glossy lips. With them gone, you wanted nothing more than to have some fun with your new puppy. You turned in your seat to finally make eye contact with the panting male, and you couldn’t help but snicker at the sight.

The dweeb’s coffee-brown curls were plastered to his sweaty forehead, his amber orbs hooded behind his glasses while his grip on his pencil was slowly loosening. Breathy moans escaped his parted lips as his hips thrust softly into your hand, his eyes rolling with each of his movements.

Upon the two leaving the table, it seemed the nerd had completely dropped his facade, showing just how needy he was.

You laughed, glancing down to see the mess he was making in his black jeans. A small wet patch gradually soaked the zipper and crotch of the denim. “I knew you didn't finish in the library.” You teased, continuing to stroke him. He grunted, shifting in the booth to better angle himself into your clenched palm. “I couldn't…You interrupted me.” He replied hoarsely, making you raise an eyebrow. You abruptly gripped his cock at his response, making him whine.

“I interrupted you?”

You scoffed, not believing the balls on this nerd. “You have more mouth than I thought, Miguel O'Hara.” You hissed, releasing him and drawing down his pants, exposing his huge member fully. His hooded eyes instantly snapped open, deep pants passing his lips. “What are you—what are you doing? Someone could see.” He exclaimed through stammers, his amber eyes blown in a mixture of lust and worry as they looked all around in fear of someone being near.

You rolled your eyes at the nerd’s empty concerns. Your clique's favorite booth was positioned in the back of the diner, completely secluded. Of course, you’ll take precautions; you wouldn’t want someone to capture the sight of you having fun with a loser like him, so the idiot was fine.

Not that you cared at the moment...

“I honestly don't know what you're so worried about. You didn't seem concerned about someone seeing you when you were jerking off this morning.” You taunted, earning an angry growl from him, his cock twitching a little at that recollection. “Mierda, I didn't know anyone was there. The library is always empty in the mornings.” He said in a low voice, his tone rough and holding so much spite in it.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his anger, as if he could do anything about it. His massive body was stuck on the inside of your booth, his well-endowed cock and balls out on display.

He was completely vulnerable to you…

Your eyes trailed him, taking him in slowly, and to your surprise, you found yourself licking your lips at the sight.

Even though the dork was a lowly peasant at your school, carrying his stupid little textbooks and allowing the jocks to beat on him when he had the muscles and height to beat their asses ten-fold.

He had an impressive cock…

It was fully erect, sticking straight up into the air with a small patch of dark brown, coarse hair sitting atop his dark shaft, trailing an irresistible line up under his beige sweater. His cock was long, girthy, and definitely above average, with a brown, angry tip dripping with precum, begging to be tasted and played with.

During your moment of ogling, his large, veiny hand hastily covered the oddly magnificent sight, snapping you from your trance. You glared up at him, taking in his flushed cheeks, coffee-brown curls that hung over his framed eyes, and his attempt to cover his enormity between his legs with his hand.

“Move.” You sternly said, your tone showing just how annoyed and furious you were. You crossed your arms over your white-clad chest, awaiting the loser to obey, but surprisingly, he did no such thing. Miguel simply clenched his jaw, averted his gaze from you, not at all listening to the order you’ve just given him.

Your glossy lips pulled into a snarl, not remembering the last time someone would dare be defiant towards you, but it seemed this nerd, loner, whatever the hell he classified as, was something different…

He knew who you were, yet he was disobeying you, talking back, and worst of all…

Not submitting.

You’ve met many infuriating individuals, but he had to take the cake.

Your jaw clenched, trying to keep your composure and remind yourself that you needed him around because you were a hair's breadth from reaching into your bag and grabbing your phone to do the unthinkable. You cleared your throat, sliding so close to him that you could feel the heat of his bare, thick thighs against yours under the short, expensive pink skirt you adorned.

You brushed a strand of his coffee-brown hair behind his ear, noticing how he flinched slightly before leaning in close.

“Move your hand, or I'll make sure to send that little video of you jerking off to MJ. I think she’ll enjoy posting that onto her little blog for the whole college to see.”

You whispered into his ear, the threat striking the nerd greatly. A wave of satisfaction rushed through your being when he turned to face you, his amber eyes narrowed in rage, but a hint of fear evident in them as well. “You wouldn't,” he said, calling your bluff in a rough, breathless voice which only made you laugh.

“You must really be living under a rock on campus if you think I’m bluffing,” you chuckled darkly as the nerd gulped. “Now…” you began, glancing down at his shielded hand over what you desired. “Unless you want the entire college to know how much of a needy little puppy you are, you will move your damn hand and allow me to do whatever I please.” You sternly said, looking down at his trembling hand and then up at him.

You found it utterly adorable how he tried to keep your hardened gaze, but he would learn that when you want something, you’ll get it no matter what.

He cursed softly, running a frustrated hand through his messy coffee-brown curls. He captured his bottom lip in his teeth and reluctantly moved his hands, placing them on either side of him on the booth’s cushions. You smirked at his obedience. “Good boy,” you praised in a teasing voice, patting his head like the doggy he was; however, he yanked away. You scoffed at his defiance.

‘It seems my puppy needs more training. No worries; he’ll submit if he likes it or not.’

You thought, casting your eyes down to meet his painfully hard and erect cock. Biting your lip, you wrapped a hand around his base, feeling how brick and sticky it was in your palm.

But before granting your puppy the sweet release he desired, he had a lesson to learn…

You harshly gripped his shaft, earning a loud groan to escape his throat. “I'm very pissed at you. Want to know why?” You asked, squeezing his cock even more, making him hiss. He clutched the cushion of the booth in his large hands, clenching his jaw once more. “Why?” He said through gritted teeth.

"Why? You nearly got us caught with those outbursts, idiot," you spat, finding a rhythm and stroking him roughly under the table. His abundant precum allowed you to smoothly run your fist along him. He groaned, his head falling back against the booth.

"Maybe... you should f-fucking stop then," he said through pants, which only made you giggle. "Oh, I'm just finishing what you started in the library, puppy," you said with a fake pout.

"And here I thought you liked getting off in public places."

Miguel moaned softly at your words, his cock twitching in your hand in response. You raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Oh? Don't tell me that's the truth," you teased with a soft chuckle, knowing you'll surely have some fun with that hidden kink of his in the future.

However, no response was heard from him, defending nor agreeing with your proposal; only the occasional low moans and groans escaped his lips. You snarled, pressing your thumb into the crown of his tip, eliciting a rewarding jolt and a Spanish curse to fall from his lips.

"If you won't respond to that, then answer this," you hissed, nose scrunched up in disgust as you continued your stroking. "You act all big and tough when you're alone with me, yet you curl up into a little ball when others are around," you stated with a smirk. "Why is that?"

"Because you don't fucking scare me," he said angrily with a steady voice. You scoffed in amusement, your eyes roaming over his bulging muscles through the sleeves of his beige sweater—the fabric appearing strained. "And others do?" you retorted with a snicker, causing him to growl in annoyance and look away. "It's not like that."

"Oh yeah, then what is it?" you inquired, purposely quickening your pace on his shaft, stroking him faster and pressing your palm into his length, the desire to see him lose control driving you. He whined and whimpered uncontrollably, his large hand landing on your thigh, gripping it tightly through your skirt, urging you to slow down.

You sighed heavily; Miguel was so frustrating. The dweeb's mouth constantly spoke of defiance and disrespect, while his body contradicted him each time—his hips steadily moved in sync with your palm, and his member twitched in your hand. It seemed even he was confused about what he wanted, but being the sweet master you were, you'd assist him in discovering his true desires.

But first, he had to be taught to fix his attitude because he was really pissing you off.

You brushed the pad of your thumb over his tip, intensifying his pleasure with every jerk of your hand. "I don't like your attitude with me," you said angrily, smacking his hand off your thigh and grabbing his chin.

You roughly turned him to look at you, his eyes dazed behind his black glasses, and his lips parted. "I hold the power of your entire reputation in my hands. I can get your big ass kicked out of this damn college just by showing the dean that video of you," you warned, looking at his face in complete rage.

"Do you fucking understand me!?" you exclaimed, your nails piercing into the underside of his chin. Your eyes glared daggers at him as you continued to slide your hand up and down his trembling shaft.

He clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring as his hand landed on your wrist, deep groans continuing to pass his lips at your movement. "Y-yes, fuck," he moaned, biting his lip. "Yes to what?" you demanded, seeking clarity. With your thumb, you caressed in small circles around the crown of his tip, a smirk spreading across your glossy lips when his grip on your wrist tightened. "Yes, I-I... understand," he said, his deep voice sounding rather airy and breathless.

"Good boy," you whispered, tilting your head at him and glancing down to see more pre-cum sprouting from his tip, dripping down his shaft and coating your hand. Miguel growled. "What do you even want from me?" he asked through trembles of pleasure, his cock twitching in your fist. Your smirk broadened, turning your attention from his cock to the four-eyed male, his chin still resting between your manicured fingers.

"You heard that conversation between Peter, MJ, and me, did you not?" you inquired with a raised eyebrow, making him heave a trembling sigh. "Lapdog, right? That's what you want?"

"Indeed," you chuckled, releasing him. He whimpered, his thighs quivering, as heavy pants passed his lips. He rubbed his chin, pressing his backside into the leather cushions and breathing heavily. You reached over him, grabbing a few napkins from its container to clean your hands, feeling Miguel's eyes on you all the while.

When you met his gaze, you weren't surprised to see the sight of anger and irritation, but what did surprise you was the hint of curiosity found in his intense gaze.

'Was the dork interested in being your puppy?'

"Why?" he finally asked after catching his breath. You laughed, turning to him with a wicked grin. "The better question is...

Why not?"

You replied with a snicker. Miguel rolled his eyes and sighed once more. "And you want me to be your damn lapdog?" he asked, full of spite and rage, his amber eyes appeared redder than usual, but it didn't faze you. "Yes, or that video goes out to everyone," you said with a grin, your eyes lingering along his body. "And I think everyone would be rather shocked to see what you've been hiding under all that ugly clothing," you chuckled, motioning down at his massive and still very hard cock.

He snarled, looking away from you and out the window beside him. A silence fell upon the two of you as you simply took him in—his defined cheekbones, broad nose, thick neck, and massive body covered in a hideous beige sweater, black jeans, and white Converse.

'Goodness, this is going to be fun. The most fun I've probably had in years.'

You thought, faking a pout and leaning towards him to press your plush lips against his ear. He jumped slightly at your closeness, making you giggle as you ran a hand over his chest, tracing his defined pecs and abs through his sweater.

"Come on, puppy. Don't be so mad; you might even enjoy it."

You teased, and to your anticipation, his cock throbbed in response. He groaned lowly, your chest covered in a white crop top pressing into his arm. "It’s not like I have a damn choice," he retorted, his voice still resonating with fury.

"Well… get used to it."

You uttered, licking a stripe across his sharp jawline and enjoying how he shuddered at the feeling. You then pulled away, his amber eyes following you like the needy puppy he was.

"Now, every doggy needs a collar," you uttered with a smile, causing him to scowl. "I’m not wearing a damn collar."

"So quick to assume, puppy," you laughed, only seeming to enrage the geek even more. "Stop calling me that," he growled, causing you to sigh, finding it rather annoying how he still believed he held some type of control here.

He'll learn sooner or later.

"You’ll grow to love it, puppy," you emphasized, turning from his faltering glare to rummage in your $500 Prada bag, fishing out a toy you purchased just for your little doggy. When you acquired it, you turned to him, twirling the dark blue and red crystallized ring in your fingers. Miguel's eyes followed it, his chest heaving in confusion and disdain, but his cock pulsated in desire and curiosity.

He could scowl and glare at you all he wanted, but his body gave him away, every single time.

“What the fuck is that?” He snapped, once he regained his composure, his amber eyes looking from the ring to you through his black eyeglasses. You chuckled, running your fingers along the ring. “After our little run-in at the library this morning, I bought my new puppy something special.” You explained, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. The geek looked perplexed for the first time.

It was a cute look on him…

“Oh, don’t worry, it’ll be fun. I promise...” You giggled, glancing down at his dark cock, still twitching in desire. You then held your hand out to him, the large ring resting in your palm.

“Now…show me how much of a good doggy you can be and put this on…”

“Ugh, they are saying it's another 20 minutes.” MJ groaned, climbing into the booth right after Peter. You heaved a sigh in irritation; Mama's diner was never this backed up. It was rather annoying to think you all would have to wait just for three measly milkshakes.

“So, what’s the two of you been doing? He looks like he’s about to fucking faint.” Peter joked, glancing over at Miguel, whose bronze face was covered in beads of sweat. His amber eyes trained on the packet of math work once more. You chuckled, shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t know. The math problem must be stressing him out.” You said with a smile, subtly glancing over at your phone that rested beside you on the booth, the vibrator app pulled up on the screen that was already at level 2.

The ring that you had bought for your new puppy was nestled around the base of his cock, right over his balls, stimulating both of his sensitive areas. You gave him the benefit of the doubt to cover himself; you weren’t a total meanie.

You just needed him to know his place, as it seemed he kept forgetting.

So you decided to seat him in front of two of the most popular students at your college with a pulsating vibrator around his cock.

What better way for him to learn...?

"Okay…" MJ trailed off, brushing off the situation as nothing. "Umm, what even is his name?" She asked, talking about Miguel as if he wasn't even there. At her inquiry, you turned to your puppy, giving him a soft pat on the head. "Tell her your name," you said sweetly, noticing the subtle glare from him. "Miguel," he responded in a gruff voice without looking up from the packet.

"Your full name," you added with a smirk, wishing to further annoy him. The dweeb’s jaw clenched at your persistence. "Miguel O’Hara," he growled, hastily returning to solving question 24 of your math packet. MJ looked between the two of you, taking in the interaction before leaning across the table, her blue eyes set on you.

“Seriously, what are you up to with him?”

She asked in a hushed tone like no one at the table could hear her as her red eyebrows furrowed in concern. You scoffed, not believing that she would dare to ask you such a thing.

“Why the hell are you questioning anything that I do?” You spat angrily. “The fucking dweeb is just doing my damn homework,” you said, your eyes glaring into hers.

Perhaps, the load of hair upon MJ's head was the cause of her forgetfulness. Regardless of the culprit, the redhead better keep in mind how much you love fixing her mistakes and kicking her back into line if she oversteps.

You've done it to so many others, she'll be no different…

“Hey, hey, settle down,” Peter said, trying to calm the situation between the two of you. The tension in the air was so thick, it could be sliced with a spoon, let alone a knife.

“There's nothing wrong with what Y/N is doing,” Peter said, placing a hand on MJ’s shoulder and pulling her back towards his chest. MJ sighed, giving you an apologetic look. “Yeah, I’m sorry.” You rolled your eyes, dismissing her as you met Peter’s eyes that also looked between Miguel and you. “Although, I must say…” He began, and to your surprise, settled his amber eyes onto Miguel.

You smirked, loving to see how the aroused geek would handle this, your eyes trained on him. Miguel, noticing the lack of conversation, hesitantly looked up to be met with six eyes staring back at him.

“How the hell are you so…massive?” Peter asked with a chuckle. “You don’t do shit except read, play chess, or whatever else you nerds do.” Peter jested, causing everyone, except Miguel, to laugh. Your eyes were trained on Miguel as he glanced over at you and back at Peter before clearing his throat. “Genetics.” He mumbled, returning back to writing out the parametric formula to solve the equations he was on.

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed, the introverted male’s words not seeming to have reached his ears. “What did you say? Speak up, man.” He laughed, causing Miguel to clench his jaw once more. His pencil halted upon the paper as he casted his amber eyes up to the jock. “Genetics. That's all it is.” He repeated in a louder tone.

“So, you are telling me, you do not work out?” MJ asked in surprise and awe, her blue eyes roaming over his body. You were certain she was checking your new puppy out.

You growled, oddly, shooting a glare at her.

You didn’t know what was with her today, but MJ was working your last nerve.

MJ, thankfully, shut up after your look, but your puppy answered anyway. “A little,” he replied, twirling the pencil in his thick fingers nervously. You couldn’t help but gaze at him—his massive musculature snug under his beige sweater that seemed to hug him in all the right places.

His biceps bulging, his hardened pecs defined, and you could even sneak a peek at his abdominal muscles pressing against the warm fabric. You bit your lip, the desire to get him out of that ugly sweater filling your being until you shook off the thought.

The damn dweeb was making you forget your title and your reputation…

But you couldn’t lie.

The geek was exceeding your expectations…

Not only was he impressive for being at the very bottom of the student hierarchy and having the ability to make you feel all hot and bothered, but despite his cock being heavily stimulated by the vibrating ring, his voice didn't waver or falter.

Your puppy was tougher than you thought…

‘We’ll see about that.’

With a click of your phone, you raised the vibrations from a mere 2 to a 5. Instantly at the change, Miguel jolted in his seat. You watched with a look of pure innocence on your face as Peter’s eyebrows furrowed.

He snickered, eyeing the glasses-wearing male across from him at the table. “Man, you are weird as heck, but I’ll let it slide,” he said with a smile, glancing over at you, his eyes full of admiration. “If the queen here can put up with your presence, which is rare,” Peter snickered, “I’ll be willing to open a spot on the team to see how you do,” he proposed, which shocked you.

It was hard to get on Peter’s football team, yet he was practically giving it to Miguel, the most disliked male at school, on a silver platter.

You couldn’t help but feel a little angry at that, slowly becoming a bit possessive over your new puppy.

But thankfully, Miguel said the words for you. “I-I’m not interested,” he uttered, clearing his throat and clenching the pencil tightly in his large hand. You smirked, watching Peter’s eyebrows rise in shock. He glanced over at MJ, who had become quiet after your glare.

“This dude is really turning down my offer, babe,” he said, nudging MJ, who snapped out of her trance to turn her blue eyes onto Miguel. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Actually…” you said, instantly drawing their eyes on you. “It’s better if he didn’t. I’ll lose my new lapdog, and we wouldn’t want that… Isn’t that right?” You asked, running your manicured fingers through Miguel’s coffee-brown hair. You watched his jaw clench and a subtle blush spread across his lips.

Seems as if he's starting to like the name or you claiming him…

Indeed, Miguel was a naughty one…

Peter’s stunned expression instantly changed at your words. He cleared his throat, giving you a nod. “Of course, but the offer still stands,” he offered once more, looking over at you as he said it.

You gave him a small smile before MJ sat up in her chair with a grin, the color restoring back into her being after you rightfully snuffed it out. “Since the workers are taking so long, let’s play a game. Never Have I Ever, anyone?!” she exclaimed, a smile adorning her cherry lips.

You grinned, liking the idea, before a thought came to your head, causing you to heave a sigh. “Normally drinks are involved. We don’t have any,” you commented, instantly MJ reached into the pocket of Peter’s red and blue varsity jacket, pulling out his metal flask. His eyes widened in shock before he laughed, shaking his head. “Damn, I thought you didn’t know about that.”

“I know everything, baby.” MJ giggled, placing the metal flask in the center of the table. You smirked, glancing over at Miguel, who had his arms crossed upon the table, his head lowered over the math packet. He was panting, and his thighs were trembling next to your own. He wasn’t writing anything as he seemed like he was just sitting there.

But you knew what your needy puppy was up to…

He was enjoying himself, relishing in the sensation from the vibrator ring you had bought him. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

While Peter and MJ discussed the rules of the game, you leaned in close to Miguel, pressing your glossy lips against his ear. “Are you enjoying your little toy, puppy?” you inquired, causing him to suck in a breath. “Ay cono, turn it off,” he panted, whispering to you in desperation. He turned his hooded eyes onto you, and you met his gaze with a sly grin. “Why? You like it,” you whispered back with a small giggle, watching his ears redden and a vein bulge from his forehead as he tried to suppress his anger.

“So no, it’s not coming off anytime soon,” you told him. “Now, you'll play this game with us and finish my work later.”

“I don’t want to fucking play,” he growled, making your forced smile falter. You subtly reached over to your phone, turning the vibrations up from level 5 to 7. Miguel's voice caught in his throat, his hand landing on your thigh once more. You could even faintly hear the buzzing in his jeans that was slowly making the geek lose his composure.

His large palm covered your smooth skin as he gripped it tightly while he quivered. He cursed under his breath, beginning to softly pat your thigh to call a truce. You watched him with a smirk, loving how he was writhing and squirming in his seat, knowing you were the sole cause of it. “I-I’ll play,” he whined, lowering his head to hide, his amber eyes on you over his arm. You smiled, lowering it back to a mere 5.

‘Don’t piss me off,’ you mouthed, turning back to Peter and MJ to find they were, thankfully, still talking.

You didn’t want to hear what any of them had to say when it came to Miguel and you, especially from MJ.

“The dweeb is going to play too,” you said, hastily gaining everyone’s attention. “Awesome, do you want to go around as ages? Whoever is the youngest goes first?” MJ suggested. “I think the oldest should go first,” you said with a wicked grin, knowing everyone would choose the latter since you, the queen bee, said so.

If your intuition was correct, which it always was, you sensed Miguel was older than the rest of you. His demeanor and rough look showed his maturity, and you couldn’t help but become a little aroused at the assumption.

“Fine. I’m 23,” MJ said, glancing over at Peter next. “25,” he replied, soon looking at you. “24,” you smiled before finally setting your eyes on the trembling male. His amber eyes shifted from all of your eager gazes. He cleared his throat, tanned cheeks a soft red. “26.” His voice, like usual, was deep and rather low, but you heard his answer loud and clear.

You were right...

The muscular geek was not only a disobedient lowlife, but he was older than you. ‘How fun?’ you thought, looking him up and down beside you. It made everything even sweeter.

“Well, you go first,” Peter said, motioning to Miguel with his head, his dark brown hair swaying with his slight movement. The dweeb gulped, merely sitting there for a while. It was for so long that you pondered if he had even played the common game before until he finally spoke.

“Never have I ever fallen asleep during a movie,” he muttered, keeping his gaze on the table.

'Of course, a boring one, like I thought.’ You groaned, nudging his arm. “Come on, that shit blows,” you said with an eye roll. “We want something steamy, hot…” You whispered, reaching over to caress his thigh under the table. He gulped, clenching his jaw and landing his large, calloused hand on yours to cease your movement. “Fine…” he said, turning to look at you in particular.

“Never have I ever walked in on someone without knocking.”

Miguel asked with a sly grin that surprised you greatly, and left you angry as hell. You growled, hearing Peter and MJ begin to discuss their answers. “Gosh, I walked in on one of the guys with their girlfriends in the locker room,” Peter sighed as MJ didn’t have an unfortunate occurrence happen to her, but not like you cared about either of them at the moment.

You glared at Miguel, his taunting smirk and stupid glasses adorning his face, the desire to slap them both off overwhelming your being.

You turned to see Peter already taking a swig of the metal flask, a grimace on his face after the drink. “Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have chosen the strong stuff,” he commented, glancing up at you. “Now, what about the Queen bee? Walked in on one of those baddies at your sorority house?” He inquired with a chuckle. You looked over at Miguel, his eyes narrowing as he watched you take the flask, gulping down a large mouthful of the liquor.

As Peter said, the shit was strong, and it took everything in you not to cough, suppressing the urge by clearing your throat. “No…” You replied, placing the flask back on the table and subtly looking over at Miguel before meeting your two associates' curious gazes. “Then what happened then?” MJ asked, deeply intrigued.

“Well, I walked in on someone jerking off.”

You noticed beside you, Miguel’s entire body became rigid on the booth; his hand squeezed yours under the table in a rather desperate way. He was begging you with the slight touch to cease any further words.

How cute…

You smirked at the feeling, loving how you had the dweeb filled with anxiety and nervousness about whether you'll spill his deep secret or not.

But you're only a bitch when you want to be…

“That’s all you get, though.” You laughed, causing cries of frustration to erupt, although you didn’t miss the sigh of relief that passed Miguel’s lips even though he was the one who called your bluff and dug his own grave.

“First round, and it seems Queen Bee and I are tied on who’s paying for our order.” Peter laughed, causing you to roll your eyes. “If it ever gets here,” MJ added with a groan.

“Even more of a reason to continue playing,” Peter said with a smirk. “But it seems as if it’s my turn, being 25 and all.” He said, sitting back against the cushions of the booth, humming in thought. “Ah, got one.” He commented with a grin.

“Never had I ever used a mirror during romantic intercourse.” He asked, his amber eyes looking around the table.

Of course, being the fun queen bee you were, you took the flask. “I mean, if you haven’t, you are missing out.” You grinned, taking another swig of the strong liquor, feeling the satisfying sting in the back of your throat when you placed the container back on the table. You could feel the heat radiating from Miguel’s body at the mention of you doing something so naughty.

You wouldn’t mind doing something like that with him only when he was ready…

A small blush spread across MJ’s cheeks at the erotic question. “I’ve always wanted to do it.” She said, bringing a smile to Peter's lips. He snaked an arm around her, caressing her arm as he spoke in a sultry and seductive voice. “Oh really? We can always try it after-

“Oh my gosh. Get a fucking room already.” You interrupted with a snicker, eyeing the two lovebirds. “Okay, okay,” MJ said with a giggle, eyes turning to Miguel who hastily dismissed it with a head shake.

Of course, the fucking dweeb doesn’t know how to have fun.

With you, he’ll know nothing else; you’ll make sure of it.

“Well, it’s your turn now,” MJ smiled. Finally, it was your turn, instantly thinking of a proposition that could really reveal some deep secrets about Miguel.

Something he's been hiding…

You sat back in your seat, pondering your answer when your eyes met Miguel. Just the sight of the massive male was making your brain sprout with ideas. Who knew how helpful he could be with just his mere presence?

Why not reward him for the assistance?

Subtly, you sat up, turning the vibrations up to a 7 while starting your round.

“Never have I ever had a sexual encounter in a public place and secretly liked it.”

You proposed, glancing over at Miguel, who was losing it. He gritted his teeth, lowering his head to try to hide his fluttering eyes and heavy pants, but your associates’ words surprised you. “Gosh, both of us,” you heard them say, drawing your attention from your puppy.

“Yeah, we did a vibrator challenge on each other, and we went to a mall,” Peter said with a smile and a head shake. “It wasn’t enjoyable with the many people around at the sudden bursts of pleasure, but overall…it was fun,” MJ added, snuggling into Peter’s chest.

You slowly nodded, retaining the idea for further use and glancing back at Miguel, who was shaking. You felt his hand on your thigh once more and soon his soft pats, as if he was a wrestler trying to tap out of the ring.

But you weren’t a merciful referee; he could endure it a little longer…

You leaned in close to him, pretending to reach down to pick up the pencil that had accidentally rolled off the table due to his squirming. “Lift your head and play the damn game,” you spat harshly into his ear as he frantically shook his head. “Fuck, I-I can’t,” he whined breathlessly. “Mierda, I’m close. I-I can’t,” he repeated, only making you smirk.

“Be a good puppy, hold it, and play the game, or I’ll raise it to the highest level,” you told him sternly, your fingers finding the pencil in the leather cushions. You soon rose, a smile on your lips as you placed the wooden tool onto the table. “Miguel, how about you?” you inquired in a sweet voice, the lovebirds finishing their swigs of the flask. “Done anything fun in public and secretly enjoyed it?” you asked, curious about how he'd answer and respond.

Like a good doggy, he lifted his head as you commanded. His dark, hazy eyes looked between the three of you before simply reaching over and taking a swig of the flask.

“Fucking hell!? The nerd knows fun!” Peter commented with a laugh, while the rest of you looked on in astonishment. Miguel placed the flask down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Explain,” you urged, nudging him with a kick under the table. He jolted, shooting you a subtle glare, causing you to raise an eyebrow, reaching over for your phone when Miguel gave you a gentle squeeze of desperation. “Okay…” he began, exhaling and trying to regain his composure while holding back his release and being heavily stimulated.

“I was getting a-a handjob under the table…i-in a diner similar to this,” he said, making you smile, knowing exactly what he was referring to. “T-The girl was fucking rude and mean, but h-had skilled hands. Very skilled hands.” He gulped, avoiding your eyes while he spoke. “But t-that’s pretty much it. I liked it...Who wouldn't," Miguel said, looking down at his lap and leaving the table speechless.

You didn’t know whether to be flattered, angry at his description of you, or apathetic. A burning desire in your gut to simply drag him to the bathroom of Mama’s diner and see just how good his cock would feel inside of you.

But overall, the geek had surprised you with his answer, this being the only time he had spoken his mind and said his true thoughts since he sat down at this fucking booth.

“Damn, sounds hot,” MJ said, making you turn your attention from your loyal puppy to her. “Wish I had the guts like that rude girl you described. I could never.” She said lowly, bringing a wave of pride over you. Her compliment only fueled your already replete ego.

After the steamy encounter that Miguel explained to the group, it was now MJ’s turn. However, just when she was about to speak, her phone pinged with a message. She glanced down at the glowing screen, her eyebrows instantly furrowing. “Oh my gosh, babe, we have to go. I’m needed at the university.” She quaked, turning her blue eyes upon you. “I’m so sorry to pause the game and leave so early.” She apologized, hastily standing up from the booth alongside her ride, and boyfriend, Peter.

“I can only assume it's for the newspaper, so I’ll let it slide,” you told her as she thanked you, swiftly scurrying past and exiting Mama’s diner. Peter watched with a chuckle, tucking his hands into his red varsity jacket, standing beside you at the table.

“Well, I guess we’ll be seeing you around, Queen Bee,” he smirked, suddenly taking your hand and placing a kiss on your knuckles. You raised an eyebrow, a smile forming upon your glossy lips. Prior to pulling away, he held his soft lips upon your skin for a moment longer and gave your knuckles an affectionate caress with his thumb, meeting your eyes. “Call me anytime.” He whispered, giving you his signature charming smile and wink that made every person on campus faint and die on the spot before leaving behind his girlfriend.

You couldn’t lie; you were a little shocked at Peter’s forwardness.

You’ve noticed his interest in the great Queen Bee—who isn’t—but he had a girlfriend, and unfortunately for him…

You don’t like to share…

Many whiny groans and the sound of loud buzzing brought you from your thoughts as you turned to look at Miguel in the corner to see something even more astonishing than Peter’s previous advances.

Miguel was panting, breathing heavily with his head pressed against the back of the leather booth. His black denims were drawn down, revealing his strained cock and the beautiful red and blue vibrator ring around his base. His eyes rolled uncontrollably behind his glasses, his mouth agape while he rambled in a blend of Spanish and English.

You could only make out the English phrases and words he uttered, which mostly were pleas and begs, all desiring one thing and one thing only.

“Please—ay cono. Let me cum. Please, let me cum."

He implored incessantly, his words so full of need and desperation. You could tell he was slowly losing it; the pleasure was blinding him, and he was only at level 7. You were hoping to try the highest level on him, but maybe another time…

You didn’t want to completely ruin your new puppy…

You leaned towards him, running a finger over his sticky tip, tracing patterns across it. He whined and squirmed in his seat at your touch. “Aww, you want to stop playing already? I wanted to try level 10.” You told him with a fake pout. He frantically shook his head, gasps of air passing his parted lips. “Goodness, no. Please, I-I can’t take any more.” He begged so perfectly that you almost allowed him to.

Well,

Almost…

“I’ll let you cum on one condition,” you proposed, taking his chin in your fingers and turning him to meet your eyes. His eyes fluttered, his hands found your wrist, grabbing on tightly to stabilize himself. His face was flushed, his defined cheeks a rosy red, and his forehead covered with beads of sweat. He looked adorable, practically begging you with his hooded doe eyes to allow him to cum. You smirked, caressing his chin.

“Tell me you are my little puppy and sweeten the deal with a cute little bark.”

You giggled, eliciting a growl that came out more like a groan. “A-Are you serious?” he panted, making your smile only broaden. “Very, and I’ll only raise the level of the vibrator if you don’t,” you said with a grin, loving the look of defeat that covered his face. “Shit,” he cursed, looking away.

“No, eyes on me.”

You sternly said, hastily yanking his chin back towards you. He clenched his jaw, making eye contact with you once more. His amber orbs were full of anger, but his desire to be relieved of the vibrator and finally be granted his satisfying release led him to speak what you wanted.

“I-I’m your… l-little…

Puppy.”

He uttered reluctantly through shaky moans as you waited patiently for the best part of his whole confession. He growled, shaking his head. “I’m not barking.”

You huffed, giving him a stern look. “Do I have to threaten you again about that video? How about I take that little vibrator and give it to the dean instead?” you said with an evil grin. “It has your… essence all over it. Wouldn’t be hard to discover it’s yours.” You cackled. He scowled, gazing up at you through breathy moans. “You are s-such a bitch.”

“Are you sure? You are looking more like a bitch than me right now,” you spat with a laugh, piercing your nails into his chin. “Now be my good little puppy and bark.” You demanded once more, eyes trained on his furious and flushed face.

You watched Miguel resist you as hard as he could. He put up such a fight, remaining silent to disobey for a good while, but just like any wild dog, they break, they snap...

They submit.

So, it didn’t take long before the most satisfying sounds filled your ears.

“Woof…Woof.”

A wave of satisfaction overcame you, akin to taking a refreshing sip of a chocolate milkshake on a hot day. Your glossy lips pulled into a smile, feeling completely overjoyed as you stared at your official new lapdog. “Gosh, I’m going to have so much fun with you,” you promised, caressing his chin affectionately. Miguel’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and his entire face turned red; even his cock frantically throbbed around the pulsating ring.

Like a dog wagging his tail, he seemed to like that idea very much...

You wrapped a hand around his shaft, stroking him at a fast pace while the ring continued to buzz against him. “Be a good boy and cum for me,” you whispered. “Make me proud, puppy,” you told him, kissing along his jawline and earning a loud groan to erupt from his throat. His hips left the seat, meeting your fist with each thrust upwards. “Oh yes. Fuck,” he cried through closed eyes.

The leather booth began to creak loudly at his frenzied movement, his cock sliding in and out of your palm, completely slick with his precum. You could feel how powerful the vibrations were on his sensitive shaft whilst he continued to fuck your fist.

“Shit, shit, I’m cumming,” he groaned, before a loud guttural, deep moan erupted from deep within his chest, his thick, muscular thighs quivering. Veins bulge along the underside of his abdomen upon his climax, and with one final thrust into your hand, he shot his white, creamy load.

And the four-eyed male just kept impressing you over and over again.

His release seemed to be endless. More and more of his seed dripped from his slit, coating your hand and the buzzing toy. The vibrating ring and your fisting only seemed to milk him completely, causing him to whimper and whine uncontrollably, continuing to paint his shaft, your hand, his beige sweater, and the leather seats in his essence.

When he was finished, you took in the huge mess he’d made with a grin. “Look at what you’ve done,” you purred, grabbing a few napkins to clean your hands. Miguel didn’t respond, only babbling softly, his words unintelligible.

You laughed at his thoroughly satisfied expression, finding it utterly adorable how fucked-out he looked. You relieved him of the vibrator, turning it off and removing it from his swollen shaft, the toy completely coated with his sticky fluids.

You smirked, eyeing the white-coated ring; it was so enticing that you couldn't help but bring the toy to your mouth to give it a taste. Like savoring the sweetness of honey on a wand, you ran your tongue along the vobrator, humming in ecstasy.

Your eyes fluttered at the taste. His seed was different—something you couldn't quite put into words, but an essence you'd definitely want more of in the future, something you had to taste straight from the source.

After sucking the ring clean, you placed it into your bag and slid closer to Miguel. His eyes were still closed, his chest heaving up and down while his body spasmed—small tremors spreading through his massive being.

You turned his face towards you, a finger resting under his chin. His eyes fluttered open to meet your satisfied gaze. “I’m happy you enjoyed yourself, puppy,” you whispered, an airy chuckle passing his lips at your words. “I had no choice…

So I might as well enjoy it,”

He muttered breathlessly, his response made you even prouder. Your little puppy was understanding the game—the fun. You couldn’t help but love the dork even more.

You leaned closer to him, your nose brushing against his.

“Finally… you are starting to get it,” you uttered, pressing a rough and searing kiss to his mouth. Miguel, completely exhausted and shocked, instantly lost the fight, giving you control.

You devoured his mouth hungrily, his plush lips feeling just right and tasting even better as your tongue entered his parted lips. He groaned, kissing you back, but not enough to dominate nor challenge you, which you adored so much.

You kissed him until you were satisfied, sucking his lips until they were pink and swollen, and tasting his mouth with your tongue. You then pulled away from his enticing lips, both of you panting heavily. You looked him over with a smirk, patting his head and running your manicured fingers through his coffee-brown hair, and to your satisfaction, he didn’t pull away—either from weariness or pure enjoyment, it seemed your puppy had accepted his role.

But you couldn’t be so sure…

You smiled, sliding out of the booth and picking up your $500 Prada bag from the seat. His amber eyes were full of confusion as he looked you over. You met your adorable lapdog’s gaze, standing before him in your lavish clothes—a white crop top, pink Gucci jacket, skirt, and heels.

You gave him a sly grin, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “Clean yourself up and have my homework done by 10.

I want you at my sorority house tonight,”

You smirked, watching his tanned cheeks turn a deep red. Your eyes took him in one last time, taking in his little mess, his flustered and stunned expression, softened cock, massive body, and those dorky glasses.

All of that and so much more was yours now.

All yours…

“See you then,” you giggled, blowing him a kiss, and turning on your pink high heels, leaving the dork flabbergasted.

You swung open the door of Mama’s diner, stepping out onto the sidewalk and into the bustling streets of Nueva York. You put on your pink heart-shaped shades, the evening sun beaming upon your face, as an unshakeable smile adorned your glossy lips.

You were excited, no, delighted.

You had discovered something better than a measly assistant that you had desired before.

You had a permanent peasant, a puppy who was none other than the outcast of your college—the student at the bottom of the student hierarchy and hated by all was officially yours.

And you couldn’t wait to have so much more fun with your little bitch boy, Miguel O’Hara.

Your new lapdog...

A/N: I enjoyed writing this soo much!! 😆

I hope u guys enjoyed it as well, I'm thinking of writing a Part 2 but...idk 🤔😏

But hope u guys liked!! 💗💗

P.S: Part 3 of 'A Fate Worse Than Death' would be up next week, my apologies, I just had to write this one. 😌

<3 Taglist:

~@oscarissac2099

~@powerful-niya

(Let me know in the comments if you'll like to become a part of the taglist! ❤️)

#miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse #the blue panther #miguel ohara #miguel #miguel smut #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x fem!reader #miguel atsv smut #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #nerd miguel #sub miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x reader

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phyrestartr · 11 months

Text

Baby Crazy | Miguel x F!Reader

Miguel x Symbiote Host!Reader W/C: 1.8k

#SFW, mentions of trauma, mentions of past miscarriage, new beginnings, Miguel has baby fever, established relationship, fluff, comfort

Note: I'm trying to finish up and move on from a bunch of WIPs I have cluttering up my docs, so that's why I'm rapid-fire posting LOL. I have so many that are nearly done bro it's driving me insane!!!

Something changed.

This hadn't happened before, the way he was acting, the way he was feeling. Everything around him, anything that even slightly hinted at kids, triggered the frenzy in Miguel’s brain; if Peter showed up at HQ with May in his arms, Miguel had a hard time leaving the room and ignoring them because–yes he wanted to hold her, god dammit, hand her over already, Parker.

Then there were the instances with Jess on missions; any time she got whipped around, Miguel flew to her in an instant, asking if the baby was okay before asking if Jess was okay. He knew they were both fine, but–but still.

And, Christ, when you held a baby, and that stoicism lifted from your beautiful face? It killed Miguel, made him fall even more in love with you if that was even possible.

Fuck. He was so, so doomed.

He'd never seen you so soft before. Just that little glimpse of your maternal instincts, your quiet gentility, dyed your partner’s blood in bright hues of hope and wonder. Because you were a hardened woman, someone the universe took great pleasure in beating on time after time. It was a wonder love could still find a home inside your bruised heart. Miguel had been there to see you before it all, and held you through most of the downfall, and when he’d missed things, you filled in the gaps for him; you were his greatest confidant, ranking high in Miguel’s mind with Lyla and Gabriel.

You'd been there since the beginning as a cool, calm, collected reporter that'd do just about anything to get the next story for the papers. Miguel found you incredibly aggravating, and he would have had much less patience for you if he hadn't wanted to get in bed with you so much. And as it turned out, your insatiable curiosities would come to bite you in the ass as much as it would foster your bond to the scientist; you would become host to the symbiote, and he would become spliced with spider genetics.

Spiderman. Venom.

Who else could you turn to but each other? Who else would understand what it felt like to change in a split second, to endure what it meant to change?

You'd both done your damndest to take it in stride, and now here you were, too many years later, stuck to each other like glue and hardened off into something hurt and impenetrable that just now started to ease into something soft and malleable. Miguel found he loved it. He loved you.

And, shit, he wanted a goddamn baby with you.

He watched you from the couch while you loitered in the kitchen, hair a mess and oversized sleep shirt hanging lazily off one shoulder as you willed yourself to get a pot of coffee going. Rosy eyes glanced down to your stomach. How tight would that shirt get when you were nine months? And what if you had twins? Miguel had confidence in himself, he figured he had the power to put two babies in you at once. Easy. No problem. Definitely doable and–

"Miguel?" You called from the kitchen with a croaky, groggy voice.

"Baby?" He blurted, the fever in his mind overtaking his mouth and sabotaging what he tried to say.

You stared at Miguel as heat rose to his face. He didn't call you "baby." You didn't call him "baby." You had a right to be suspicious. And because you were you, you continued to stare, and stare, and stare like it was some kind of punishment done to make Miguel squirm in his seat (which succeeded).

"I–uh, shit, sorry. You–say again?"

You stared at him.

"(Name), for the love of–stop, just stop. Please," he more or less begged as he rubbed his face. Maybe he could rub away the red staining his cheeks if he tried hard enough.

"Hm." You collected the two mugs of coffee you'd prepared during Miguel's daydream, and brought them to the couch. "You've been thinking about babies a lot."

Miguel took the mug with a soft thanks. "Well, it's hard not to with Jess and Peter around," Miguel deflected.

You slipped your legs across his lap and leaned against the arm of the couch. "Mh." You sipped your coffee and held it with both hands to warm your chilled fingers. "Do you want–"

"I think so." He looked at you, eyes big with a maelstrom of nerves and excitement dancing behind them as sparks fluttered in his chest. "Do you?"

Your head tilted just slightly as you looked him over. "Mhm. Wanna do it now?"

Miguel's palm magnetized to your thigh and squeezed. "Well, I think we've got time."

“Okay.” Miguel smirked and started to feel up your leg, his fingers dipping into the sleep shorts you wore. But then, you took out your phone, and paid no mind to his lustful touches. “What do you want?”

Miguel blinked. “What?”

You stared at him again. “For breakfast.”

“Oh.”

“Mh.” You fidgeted with your phone between your fingers for a moment. “Oh. Did you…think I was talking about–?”

“No,” Miguel interjected. “I–I just thought you–maybe just–I, well. Maybe?” He swallowed and drummed his fingers against your leg. “Have you…thought about it?”

The question held weight; he knew you’d thought about it, knew you lamented over it, even, because you lost a child just as he had. The memories swirling in your mind never rose to the surface, never burned into the history of the outside world, but Miguel knew they were there. He knew a late-term miscarriage could never be forgotten.

“Mmh…” You slipped your legs off his lap and made slow work of tucking them into your sleepshirt, making yourself a blob. A very cute, sleepy blob. “We’ve thought about it,” you admitted, but didn’t expand. It gave Miguel hope, though. Clearly you’d mulled it over with your other half.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You nodded.

Your partner nodded. His hand found its way onto the bump of your knee, and his thumb rubbed curious circles against you as he exercised patience, like a puppy sitting and waiting for a treat. You watched his hand on you, quietly admiring the veins and tendons proudly pushing against his skin, and the shift of muscle dancing under his movements as he soothed you.

“Are you ready?” You wondered softly. One of your hands slipped from your mug in favour of resting over his. “For a baby.”

Miguel chewed his cheek for a moment and watched your hand, too, like avoiding each other’s gaze would somehow quash the trepidation, make it easier to admit what you both wanted and what you both feared. But Miguel, the man who didn’t always like what he had to do but knew what he had to do, bit the bullet and found your eyes. Your beautiful, perfect eyes. Maybe your shared joy would have them, too.

“Yeah.” He scooted into your space and caressed your warm cheek with the backs of his knuckles. “If it’s with you,” he said, and turned his hand to cup your cheek with his palm, “I’m sure.”

The still, placid look of you melted, just the slightest bit, under the incalescence of your lover’s touch. Your lovely lips twitched a fraction, but the true smile, the one Miguel craved to see day after day, glowed in the colour of your eyes.

“Hm.” You hummed softly as you nodded, thinking and deliberating with your other half. Your gaze wandered away from Miguel and to the side slowly, to the side she whispered in the most. Your eyes fluttered, then, gaze recentering and focusing on Miguel in front of you again.

“Well?” He tucked some hair behind your ear only for you to un-tuck that same piece. Miguel tucked it back again, and this time, you let him. “What’s the jury say?”

You took a deep breath, and nodded. “We think we’re ready,” you murmured. You caught his hand and pressed a light kiss to his knuckles, treating him like the princess you knew he was. “If it’s with you, we’re sure.” And this time, you gave him a smile.

Miguel’s heart erupted. His boyish grin hit you with the concentrated power of the sun before he all but dove into you, crushing you with a hug, and spilling coffee everywhere. You made some sort of strange noise, something between laughter and panic, as you fumbled with the mugs and set them down wherever you could while Miguel peppered you with affection. He kissed your de-blobbed body, first your collarbone and then between your breasts. He nuzzled there before taking a deep, deep breath of your scent and sighing, content.

“You’re weird,” you said as you carded your hands through his hair while he basked in the glory of your chest.

He pulled his face out of heaven and rested his chin between the girls as he gazed up at you, eyes bleeding adoration and excitement. “Oh, what, I’m not allowed to be excited for a baby?”

You pinched his nose and watched him scrunch up his face and suffer. “You’re just weird.” Your mean fingers found his eyebrows and pulled them. “I’m excited, too. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time.” You let go of the hairs and smoothed them over with your thumbs. “About trying again.”

That had Miguel’s attention. “You never mentioned it.” He tilted his head, resting his cheek against one plushy mound as he listened.

“I didn’t know how to bring it up. I didn’t know if I should.” You dragged your nails against Miguel’s scalp, and he closed his eyes with a pleased sigh. “I’m glad you did.”

Miguel hummed warmly. “Guess we were both a little scared, huh? Hah. Venom and Spiderman, afraid to talk about the future. Who woulda thought.” He picked his head up to look you in the eyes. “But at least that’s out of the way now.”

“Mh. Now you can stop complaining about using condoms,” You said, deadpan.

“I–you–look, you don’t get it–”

“Hm.”

“It feels different. Better. Like a real connection–”

“Hmm.”

“And–okay, fine, I’d rather not have a shitty layer of rubber between me and you. What’s so wrong with that?”

“Hmmm.”

“Vieja,” Miguel pleaded.

You smiled, soft and quiet like drifting petals. “Like I said, you won’t need to complain about them anymore. Not for a while, anyway.”

Miguel bit your tit lightly, and you flicked his forehead. “Why don’t we not-complain right now?”

“Hm.”

“We have time to start round one of baby-making, yeah?” His smile, dangerous and hungry, split across his features again as his hands wandered up and under your shirt teasingly. “If we knock you up now, we’ll have a kid born in…what, February? Good start to a new year.”

You thought about it more seriously than Miguel thought you would, if the narrowing of your brows and a sudden prolonged silence told him anything. You were probably mulling over the zodiacs for that month, though, deciding if you liked them enough to go for it. Even with your serious take on things, you still loved your astrology.

“Hm. Okay.” But you plucked your phone off the ground and turned the menu you’d pulled up to Miguel. “Food first. Baby-making after.”

He nodded. “Deal.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv imagine #atsv reader insert #miguel ohara x reader #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #phyrestartr

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ask-sister-solaris · 5 months

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“Wait me?”

Ray Stantz X reader ficlet

Warnings; none just toof rotting floof

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You had an extensive education. Psychology, science (physics, biology and chemistry) aswell as some more ‘niche’ studies including neuroscience and parapsychology. You had quite a deep understanding of the paranormal and occult, seeing it as nothing but a hobby, but when the Ghostbusters come around you realize you could actually make use of your PhDs and knowledge.

You stood infront of the tall and rundown building looking back at the paper. Yup this was the place, old Fire station. You peeked in before stepping in and going over to the reception desk. A dark red haired female looked up at you and she gave you a confused look before you explained why you were there

“I’m here about a job..I believe I can be of assistance to the Ghostbusters, I have proof of my PhDs and exam results..”

She hummed and turned around yelling for someone a man, no taller than you, pelted out of his office and vaulted over the border between the back room and reception. You recognized him as Peter Venkman. You’d never met him personally but you’d heard from students he’d had.

“Well hello, how can I help?” Peter gave you that signature smile and you rose a brow, how did women actually fall for him..shaking your head gently you held out the envelope containing all your certificates

“I’d like a job” your voice was surprisingly firm despite how shaky you felt. Peter looked it over and hummed impressed before smiling holding a hand out toward you. “Welcome to the Ghostbusters, follow me and Dr Stantz can get you all situated” you nodded and followed him as they reached some sort of garage. A pretty beaten up car was sat with the bonnet up and it looked as if someone was working on it, a small radio blasted out rock music, Peter turned the radio off.

“Ray! We have a new recruit walk them through the proton packs and stuff will you” he walked off before the poor man could answer. You gave him an awkward smile and wave. Ray wiped his hands and held it out, which you shook with a smile.

“Ray Stantz, I’ll try to explain the whole proton pack thing but we haven’t even had a test run of them yet” he rubbed the back of his neck. You chuckled and smiled gently waving it off “It’s fine Dr Stantz honestly, I’m just happy Dr Venkman took me on..”

He smiled gently “please call me Ray” he led you to the storage room where the suits and packs were kept. He explained it briefly, it peaked your interested quite a bit and you took in every word he said. You’d always been the same, attentive, friendly and hardworking.

It didn’t take long for you and your fellow ghostbusters to actually gain popularity, after the hotel everything seemed to be smooth sailing. Most of your time was spent in the lab with Egon and Ray, or in the garage with Ray. Venkman usually left you two alone in the garage teasing he didn’t want to interrupt two lovers bonding. You found it funny that he’d say that, considering you’d had a massive crush on Rag since day one, and little did you know that Ray felt the same.

Time seemed to fly by, you, Ray and Egons researched revealed more about Dana’s apartment and you and Ray spent even more time than you had previously. You had to confess but you were so scared. And she panicked when she was called and found out Ray and the others had been jailed. She rushed to the police station and told them you were also a Ghostbuster and if they were jailed you should be to.

Admittedly Ray found that downright attractive that you’d put yourself up there proudly claiming you were a Ghostbuster. Shortly after you were called in to the Mayors office. You stayed silent while the madman that had turned the grid off ranged (Egon had filled you in) and you hummed “Hold on. If what you’re saying is correct then it’s your fault, you turned off the grid releasing all the spirits and ghouls onto New York. And not to mention you blatantly ignored Dr Venkman”

The other four looked at you surprised and you turned to the Mayor “Now id listened to my colleagues before the whole of New York is destroyed and plunged into darkness” you stepped back and stood beside Ray his eyes never leaving you. God his heart was pounding even faster for you. Once the Mayor finally agreed offered a lending hand all five of them set off in the Ecto 1.

Fighting Gozer wasn’t easy, nor was it fun. Venkman taunting said cursed spirit. After Ray accidentally summoned a huge Stay Puft you stood beside him and fought bravely. With Stay Puft defeated and the gate closed you stood up with a groan covered in Mallow fluff. You were hugged by an equally covered Rays and you both laughed. After the two entrapped by the Keymaster and Gatekeeper you and the others headed down. You were holding Rays hand and he looked at you as people cheered.

What happened next you didn’t expect to happen at all, Ray tilted your hand up and kissed you gently. Your eyes widened before you melted into the kiss as everyone cheered, you swore you heard Venkman yell at Egon about owing him.

#ghostbusters x reader #ray stantz x reader #fluff #ghostbusters

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missvelvetsstuff · 1 year

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The Wrong One

Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader met Steve while he was on the run and stood behind him through everything. Until he saw Peggy Carter.

Chapter 12: Moving Again

Warnings: swearing, angst

While they felt some relief at Steve accepting some responsibility for this mess, Y/N couldn't help but over think and worry.

"You know, it would have been better if Steve had just come and talked to us instead of getting the press involved. I mean, now the world knows there's a super soldier baby and the press knows where I live. I doubt it would be hard to figure out where she is." She ranted

"I don't trust Steve's motives, going straight to the press seems, I don't know, questionable. Like he's more concerned with salvaging his reputation with the public than actually trying to accept responsibility."

She thought for a moment. "I hate thinking like this but what if we gave Winnie a tracker chip? I mean, I might be paranoid but that way we could always find her. In case Steve or whoever tried something."

Bucky nodded "That might not be a bad idea. Now that he's confirmed everything to the world, those bad actors that are building Hydra, and other criminal organizations, back up might come looking."

He paused for a moment, nervous to broach the subject "Do you think your place is really safe? I mean, now that it's public knowledge."

She growled at him "You know we wouldn't be in the position if you and Sam could keep your mouths shut. What kind of spies can't keep one damn secret?" Her voice rose at the end and Winnie whined "Oh no baby, I'm so sorry. Your father and uncles are just dumbasses."

Bucky looked at his feet "I know, doll. I'm so sorry and plan to spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I didn't think Steve would cause so many problems but I never thought he would leave you for Peggy without even telling you so I don't seem to be the best judge of who he is these days. I'll do whatever I can to fix this."

She sighed "I don't know, Bucky, you may be right. My house might not be the safest place anymore. I need to talk to Pepper. Before I go home."

She sent a text to her friend to stop by and visit when she had the time.

They spent most of the day relaxing and bonding with Winnie. She gave Bucky smiles when she heard his voice and Y/N had never seen him light up like when she did.

Pepper stopped by at dinner time, followed by Happy who carried a number of take out bags from her favorite steak house.

Pepper set down a huge arrangement of pink roses in a crystal vase and gave them a big smile. "Look at this happy little family. We have to have some pictures done." She turned to Happy "Can you see if Peter can come by tomorrow and get some pictures?"

Happy nodded "Of course. She's beautiful."

Y/N smiled and thanked him.

Pepper set out food and made a plate for Y/N, trading Winnie between them.

While they ate, Y/N brought up her concerns about security. Pepper had seen Steves presser and had been concerned herself.

After thinking for a few minutes Pepper figured it out. "I know you don't want to move again but I think Bucky is right, your place has been exposed but I think I have a solution" she smiled "On the same property where Morgan and I are living, there's another cabin. 3 bedrooms and a fully updated kitchen, like my cabin. It's been empty for a bit so needs to be cleaned and the security would need upgrading. It's on the other side of the lake so you'd be close but still have your privacy."

She looked to Happy "Can you make some calls and get that started?"

Happy nodded and left the room.

Pepper started cleaning up their food "You should stay here in the Tower until the cabin is ready. Shouldn't be more than a week and you'll be safe here. We can take care of the move so you don't have to deal with all that."

"Pepper, I don't know how to thank you. It's so much."

Pepper shook her head "Then don't worry about it. I'm glad to help and the cabin has just been sitting there gathering dust." She smirked at Y/N "Besides, it'll be nice to have a sitter close by."

Y/N grinned "I don't know how soon I'll be up for babysitting a kid as active as Morgan but yeah, when I'm healed. Of course."

That evening Steve came by again obviously pleased with himself "Did you see it? I fixed everything so we can be happy together again."

He picked Winnie up from her bassinet, waking her up.

Bucky wanted to mention that Winnie had just fallen asleep but bit his tongue and watched to see how Steve would handle her.

Y/N shook her head "No, Steve. We won't be together again. I thought I made that clear. And while I appreciate your attempt to make things right, now everyone knows for sure there's a super soldier baby and the press knows where I live. My house won't be safe for us anymore."

Steve smiled brightly "You can stay with me. I'll protect you both." Winnie wasn't happy about being woken up and started squirming in his arms.

She sighed "It's like talking to a brick wall. No Steve we're done. I have a place to go but will be staying in the Tower until it's ready."

His smile fell "Where is it? I can go make sure it's secure." Winnie started fussing, not familiar with the scent or voice of the person holding her.

Bucky spoke up "I don't think that's a good idea. We will be here for now and can meet here for visits after that. The fewer people who know where they live the better."

Steve bristled "Why can't I ever talk to Y/N without you butting into something that's none of your damn business? You are always with her like some pathetic puppy." Winnie felt the tension and started bawling, trying to push away from him.

Bucky glared at him "It's my business because I've been here when you weren't" he quickly took Winnie from Steve and she calmed right away for him which only upset Steve more.

"She won't get used to me if you don't let me hold her." Steve snapped. "You won't let me hold her, won't tell me where they're moving to. Seems like you're working pretty hard to keep my daughter away from me. I thought we were all going to be adults about this."

Bucky smiled down at Winnie who gave him a big, drool filled, toothless grin. "You don't need to be holding her when you're all wound up like that. The rest is for their safety"

He took her hand and planted a raspberry on her palm and she laughed at him. He whispered softly "That's my girl."

Steve clenched his jaw, angry and frustrated at his own daughter preferring his friend over him. He sat on a chair in the corner of the room and sulked.

Y/N rolled her eyes at him acting like a baby but kept her mouth shut.

The next week was relatively calm. Steve stayed in the Tower too and did everything he could to get Y/N and Winnie alone. Bucky's presence alone was enough to upset Steve. He was still angry about Bucky's bond with Winnie and the tension didn't help her like him any better. He also refused to change diapers at all, something about it being womans work and even mocked Bucky for doing anything Y/N or Winnie needed.

Y/N had a discussion with Helen Cho and a tracking chip was implanted on Winnie. She only cried for a moment.

Finally it was time to move into her new house. They waited until Steve was out of town for the day in the hopes of keeping the location secret from him.

Y/N had a feeling he was closer than she wanted and would find out where she was living before too long.

Y/N was overwhelmed at the cabin. It was perfectly rustic on the outside but had every possible convenience inside. The interior was freshly painted and most of her furniture had been moved already.

Once they were settled in and everyone else had gone Y/N and Bucky took Winnie to sit on the swing that took up half of the front porch. All they could hear were crickets and frogs with the occasional owl or other bird chiming in. The sky was clear and full of stars that Winnie was staring and pointing at as Bucky named the constellations for her.

Life was relatively quiet for a few months. Bucky helped Sam on missions when needed but was always anxious to get home to his girls.

Winnie was growing quickly, already trying to crawl and getting into everything.

Y/N healed quickly and worked the baby weight off chasing after a baby that shouldn't be so mobile yet.

Y/N and Bucky were cautiously taking baby steps towards each other although they hadn't done anything more than some heated making out.

Steve finally learned how to change a diaper, since Y/N insisted he learn how to care for Winnie properly before he was allowed to take her on his own.

When she was 6 months old Steve had finally learned how to change and feed her well enough that Y/N was convinced he could care for Winnie on his own. That didn't dispel her concerns that he might try to disappear with Winnie but Y/N started letting him take her for a few hours or even an entire day but not overnight.

One weekend when Winnie was almost 8 months old, and trying to walk, Steve came to take her for the afternoon but promised to have her back before her bedtime at 7pm.

Y/N and Bucky went on a date to a nice restaurant where they were in their own little bubble for a little while. When her alarm went off they hurried to meet Steve at the tower only to find he wasn't there yet, even though they were almost 20 minutes late. Y/N tried not to panic.

Bucky squeezed her hand "I'm sure they got caught up in traffic or something. Steve was always a stickler for punctuality so I'm sure he will be here soon."

Y/N nodded hesitantly, it had taken a lot of time and counseling for her to trust Steve with Winnie away from her. She laughed nervously "I know, we've been doing this for 2 months and he's always here on time so maybe I should trust him but it's hard and she's everything to me."

"I know doll, just give him a little longer and she'll be back in your arms where she belongs." Bucky tried to reassure her even though he was getting nervous too.

When she looked up and saw it was over an hour since their scheduled time, Y/N started to panic.

Bucky tried to soothe her with little success so decided to call Steve and see what was holding him up. His heart stopped when the recording told him the number was no longer available.

Y/N looked to him hopefully but her stomach fell when she saw the look on his face "What's wrong Buck?"

He shook his head and stammered "Says the number isn't available."

Her eyes grew and tears started to gather right away. "No, no, he wouldn't hhe he promised. Maybe he blocked you or..." She tore through her purse in a panic, looking for her own phone. Maybe she missed his call.

When she found her phone she saw there were no calls or messages and quickly hit Steve's name on her contacts. Bucky knew from her face that she got the same recording and he pulled her close.

He was going to kill Steve when he found him.

Chapter 13

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #angst with a happy ending #steve rogers x reader #the wrong one

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imagineanime2022 · 1 year

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Demon Partner *Part 2*

Sebastian Michaelis X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 980

This technically wasn’t a request but there was a comment on the first part from @lonelystarsstuff that got me thinking thus this was born.

*Part 1*

You felt the pain arc down your neck through your chest to settle where your heart was and your eyes widened as you felt the fracture in the bond that you shared with Sebastian, you took a deep breath as the pain rose to almost unbearable before seeming the peter out. “I-!” Grelle braged her way into your shop, she seemed to appear everyday with a new plan to steal your husband but the more time she spent around you the more she liked you, that was why seeing you doubled over hands pressed against the counter made her worried. “Hey what’s going on!?” “I’ll kill him!” You growled out. “W-what?” Grelle asked as he watched you head twisted to the side, noticing the mark on your neck seemed aggravated almost like someone and damaged the skin around it. “Has something happened with Bassy?” “Cheating crow!” You cursed as you threw the ring he had gotten you across the shop. “I sense I’ve walked into something.” Grelle said, stepping backwards towards the door. “I’ll kill him, then you can take whatever you want from him.” You said flipping the sign with your magic to say that the shop was closed before making your way into the back where you had stashed your weapon, a scythe you had stolen from a previous reaper. “That’s a death scythe!” Grelle’s eyes widened as she stepped in front of you. “That will kill him.” “Uh huh.” You grunted. “Maybe you should think about this.” She suggested hands moving frantically. “How long would you suggest that I think about this?” You asked leaning your weight on the weapon as you looked at her. “Look, just see if he comes to talk to you first…” She said and you looked at her and dropped the scythe letting it hit the floor with an aggressive slam as you walked back towards the front of the shop because you weren’t sure that you were ready to see him anyway.

It took 2 days for Sebastian to show his face in your small shop, you were sitting at the counter and it served you well that there was no one in there at the time, you took one of the knives that you were supposed to be selling and throwing it at his face, he caught it between his fingers, the impassive look on his face was giving rise to the anger that had sat dormant “That was rather violent.” He finally said as he put the knife down on the closest surface before beginning his slow approach to you. “I’ll tell you what was violent, the sudden and unbearable pain that preceded the knowledge that you cheated.” You glared at him and he grimaced almost as if he was sorry for what he put you through, his eyes wandered to what looked like red raw skin around the bond mark on your neck and the missing ring. “I didn’t want to do it.” He said. “You didn’t have to do it. You're a demon.” You reminded him as he stepped closer still. “I needed information, she wasn’t even my type.” He smirked as he looked down at you and you growled. “Your type?” You answered moving back and away from him as he caught your arm. “Mhm she wasn’t my type, she was a meek little nun not a fiery little demoness.” He muttered pulling you so that you were chest to chest with him. “A nun?” You asked. “She only made me long for you.” He promised as he lifted you to sit on the counter in front of him pulling his glove off with his teeth to press his marked hand to the burning skin on your neck and it was like someone had pressed ice to the burning skin, you closed your eyes in relief. “I am sorry that you suffered this pain.” “Then don’t break a binding vow.” Your eyes opened fuschia eyes to match his glowing brightly as he nosed over the mark on your neck before pressing soft kisses there, it was in the moment that your anger finally calmed because he had come back to you, given your age you had walked away from each other many times but this was the first and hopefully last time that something like this would happen, you weren’t willing to give him up for one mistake in your thousands of years together but you would make him for forgiveness he didn’t know he already had. “It won’t happen again.” He said as he nipped at the skin on your neck before dropping to his knee in front of you and pressing his ungloved hand to his chest “do you accept my apology and request to start again?” You gently push your hand through his hair before yanking it back so that he was looking at you. “Next time I’ll kill you… That’s a promise.” You warned him and he smirked pushing up and pressing a fierce kiss to your lips. “I’d let you.” He breathed out, reconnecting your lips and pulling your body flush against him. “I have some making up to do.” “What of your master?” You asked. “He can do without me for a little while.” Sebastian said lowly. “A little while?” You asked. “Behave yourself.” Sebastian nipped at your ear. “We both know that’s not what you want.” You said your lips next to his ear, he growled his eyes glowing pink as they connected with yours. “Don’t test me darling.” He warned, you flipped the sign to ‘closed’ on the door as he raised an eyebrow. “If you apologize correctly, I shouldn’t be able to open this shop for the rest of the day.” You smirked and he lifted you with no effort at all. “As you wish my lady.” He said carrying you to the back of the shop.

Request Here!!

#black butler oneshot #black butler imagine #black butler #sebastian michaelis oneshot #sebastian michaelis imagine #sebastian michaelis #imagine #oneshot #one shot #reader insert #x reader

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assorted-fics · 2 years

Text

Fics of the Week

Avatar: The Last Airbender

a nation, held by snowdarkred

It doesn’t take long for the rumors to start.

The Fire Nation prides itself on its civilization. It isn’t like the other, lesser, nations who throw their children away by sending them into war. Those uncultured and unfeeling savages who are destroying their own future faster than the Fire Nation can save them from themselves.

Every Fire Nation child goes to school. They learn reading and writing, the illustrious history of their country, and what will be expected of them as proper, upstanding Fire Nation citizens. They are to be protected, because children are the future glory of the nation.

The crown prince is thirteen when his father burns his face in front of an audience of hundreds.

All The Gentle Creatures by Haicrescendo

It’s said that you can tell a lot about a person by how they treat animals. Zuko may be loud and stubborn and sharp but all the woodland creatures love him.

The Good Vanilla by Haicrescendo

Sokka’s beautiful friendship with Zuko doesn’t start with breaking Dad out of jail. That’s just what he tells people.

Sokka’s beautiful friendship with Zuko started the day he realizes that he knows how to cook.

Feat. breakup cake, an attempted assassination, and eating out of the pan like dirty heathens.

Merlin

From the Start by CrzyFun

"You... assisted me in my fight against the bandits. For that, you have my thanks. I'm an honorable man and I repay my debts. Leave now and I will not hunt you."

"Assisted? I'm pretty sure I saved your life."

"I had the situation perfec- Are you trying to make me reconsider letting you go?"

It was supposed to be a one time thing. Arthur let the sorcerer run off with his life in return for him saving Arthur's. He had never expected to see the boy again, especially not only two days later in Gaius's chambers.

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

non native ceramics by silentwalrus

Ed opens up the catacombs on the first of September, clapping his hands and then watching the stones part like the swish of a theater curtain, pouring over each other to reveal the dark, blocky tunnels beneath.

An Interesting Trip by ShanaStoryteller

Everyone's born with their soulmate's first words to them written on their skin, and that should make things easy, but it really doesn't.

"Roy has alternatively despised his mark and clung to it like a lifeline. Colonel. Just one word, right at the back of his foot. His literal Achilles’ heel."

Spider-Man

of things unknown (but still longed for) by aloneintherain

Peter Parker can’t walk around with the same daemon as Spider-Man. But she’s going to settle one day, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

Guardians of the Galaxy

Silence is Golden by GloriousBlackout

Peter doesn't say a word during his first six months with the Ravagers. Yondu learns to adapt to having a silent shadow following him around.

Ain’t No Mountain High Enough by BeanieBaby

I kept him ‘cause he’s small and fits into spaces others can’t. Good for thievin'.

Harry Potter

Spider in the Roses by HauntingOpal

When Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davis, and Daphne Greengrass start 4th year, they expect a silly tournament and more study time. Instead they get an abused Harry Potter who isn't a Potter at all, a mother who wants her son back, and a Slytherin Triwizard competitor who owes a debt to Harry Potter. Not to mention a twinkly eyed headmaster whose careful plans are being torn to shreds by very protective Slytherins.

House Proud by atolat

His house liked Draco Malfoy more than him.

All the Little Things by MyWhiteKnight

Oliver just wanted to beat the Slytherin in the House Cup this year, and find a good seeker to replace his friend and mentor, Charlie Weasley. Instead, he found the beginnings of an unbreakable bond between himself and one curly-haired witch.

What started as helping a lonely first year gain her bearings in a new world evolved into having their own analyst for Gryffindor. As time goes on, life develops in a way he never saw coming.

Series: we must unite inside her walls or we'll crumble from within by dirgewithoutmusic

stories for the ladies of hogwarts, who cry, waver, giggle, trespass, and who deserve our respect all the same

First Fic: overemotional: in defence of cho chang

Cho cried and she survived Pansy Parkinson's cruel jabs about a dead boy. She wept and she passed all her classes, kept up with Quidditch, watched fairweather friends scatter in the cold wind. She got very good at wordlessly summoning tissues and she joined the DA against her parents' wishes.

They had told her to behave, begged her, ordered her, as the threatening darknesses of the world clung close even inside Hogwarts, and Cho walked out to the little pub in Hogsmeade and wrote her name down on Hermione's list.

I hope someone in the DA told Cho that she ought to have been in Gryffindor.

I hope she laughed at them, hard.

Integrity. Truth. Honor. Dedication. These were the tenets of her House, of the blue and the bronze, the eagle called raven (called nerd, called stuck-up, called so many things that were not their names). Bravery was only one way to be a hero.

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christina-stark-skarlet-stileto · 1 year

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Til Death Do Us Part Day 30

The day had finally arrived for Damian and Christina to get married. The Gala the week before had helped them plan for the mission and the wedding at the same time. They had decided to get married in Florida, and had all flown down the day after the Gala. Anakin and Padmé were there, along with the twins, Obi-Wan, and Satine. Christina was getting ready with the girls while Damian and the boys got ready. Christina had chosen Natasha to be her maid of honor. Natasha had always been close to her, and understood her in a way none of the others did. Amethyst, Morgan, and little Leia were going to be the flower girls. Luke was going to be the ring bearer. Leia, Piper, Phoenix, Carol, Wanda, MJ, and Padmé were her bridesmaids. Her mom also had a special part in the ceremony. Anakin was going to officiate the ceremony. Her Dad was excited for her but also a bit emotional as well. Damian picked Peter as his Best Man. Atlas, Aslan, Rhodey, Thor, Vision, Bruce, Anakin, Bucky, and Steve were his groomsmen. Once Christina was ready, the ceremony began. The little girls walked out across the beach first spreading little blue and green roses along the path. Then Luke walked out after them. Each pair of bridesmaids and groomsmen walked out, and stood on each side of Damian and Obi-Wan. Lastly, Natasha walked out with Christina and Tony behind her. Once Natasha got all the way down the aisle, Damian was able to see Christina. She was wearing an empire cut, off the shoulder wedding dress, with a silver and emerald Asgardian tiara and veil. She was beautiful.

When Anakin said, "Who gives this woman to be married?"

Tony replied with"Me and Pepper, as well as her brother Peter, do." Anakin nodded, and Christina stood in front of Damian after she handed her Bouquet to Natasha.

"I'm pretty sure you all know why we're gathered here, so we're just going to get started. Damian, do you have your vows?" Anakin asked.

"Yes, I have them." Damian replied.

"That's good, do you already know what to say, or do I have to do the whole ‘repeat after me’ speech?" Anakin asked again.

"No, I think we've got it, so I'm just going to start." Damian paused, and then began again. "Christina, when we were younger I had no idea how our lives were going to turn out. As we got older and discovered our bond, I realized that it didn't matter as long as you were with me. Now, we're standing here getting married for real, and it is such an amazing thing to me. I promise to protect you and let you protect me. I promise to love you and only you for the rest of my life. I promise to stay with you and help you with whatever you need. I promise to be there for you when you need me, and I promise to be myself and hold no important secrets from you. Till death do us part." Christina looked at him and smiled.

"Damian, before you came into my life I was terrified. You rescued my heart from more pain and hurt. Even though I still felt it, you would do the best you could to protect me. I promise to love you, and help you when you need it. I promise to be there for you always. I promise to be who I am, and to be honest with you at all times. I promise to love you and only you for the rest of my life. Till death do us part." Christina vowed.

Luke gave Anakin the rings. Damian took Christina's, and Christina grabbed Damian's.

"Damian, place the ring on her finger and say the words that go with it," Anakin said.

"Christina, with this ring, I make my commitment to you until death parts us." Damian said, placing the ring on her finger.

"Damian, with this ring, I make my commitment to you until death parts us." Christina said, smiling at him.

"With the power invested in me by the United States and the Star Wars Galaxy I now pronounce you husband and wife. Damian, you may kiss your bride." Anakin said, finishing the ceremony. Damian did as he said, and kissed Christina. They were finally married in the eyes of their family, and nothing could ever break them apart.

#angstpril2023 #day 30 #Til Death Do Us Part #star wars #spiderman

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eli-t-spoon · 5 months

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Just wanted to post the opening to my current WIP, Rose & Thorn. Any suggestions on improving it would be super helpful 🥺

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Storms raged, both outside the walls and within Bethany’s heart. She had lost count of how often she had wished she had somewhere else to go, anywhere that she would be accepted or at least left alone. Her parents had tried, when she was younger, but since reaching adulthood even they had stepped back and turned away when others pushed her around. She was the mistake, the useless one, the worthless creature that didn’t belong here.

Using spells against another community member was forbidden, thankfully, but that had never stopped them using lies and manipulation, even the occasional fist. The leaders did nothing, choosing to take the word of more valuable people than her, telling her she deserved it if she wasn’t going to make an attempt to fit in. There was no escape, even at home, where her infinitely more talented sister went out of her way to make Bethany’s life as miserable as possible.

“Hey wretch, get out here. You know my ceremony is tonight and I won’t have you ruin it with this pathetic little tantrum. Make yourself as presentable as you can, if there’s anything in your dresser that covers up those disgusting lumps of fat.”

Of course. Kara’s ceremony of binding to her chosen life partner, Peter. Another of the generation she had grown up with, the ones who had pulled endless pranks that inevitably left her bruised, bleeding, half-drowned or dangling from a window. The actual partner bond would not happen for another two years, as tradition dictated, but tonight’s ceremony marked the beginning of their ‘trial run’, as people had taken to calling it. Two years where a couple would live as wedded, without the long term commitment. Two years where they would discover just how compatible they were, before being locked into the relationship by unbreakable bonds.

Bethany hauled herself off the bed - the same bed she had slept in since she was thirteen, which had been due for replacement for at least ten years now - and pulled a heavily altered dress out of a drawer. It didn’t matter what she wore, nobody would be looking at her during the ceremony, and Kara was going to hate it anyway. At least the dress was slightly more formal than the rest of her clothes, being the dress her mother had given her for her fourteenth birthday. Her own hand-done alterations had been necessary, thanks to her own growth, wear and tear, and Kara.

She caught her reflection in the window, a more forgiving picture than what she had seen in mirrors. The hazy glass softened her features, helped to hide some of the imperfections, and most importantly hid the bottom of the dress, which was a completely different colour and material to the rest. It had been a conscious choice for her graduation at eighteen, the first occasion when she had needed a formal outfit since her fourteenth. Her father had given her some offcuts, some of which almost matched, but she had chosen a contrasting colour thinking it might look like a deliberate fashion statement rather than a necessity. It hadn’t worked.

“Bethany, hurry up. We’re taking Kara to the Hall in five minutes, if you aren’t in the buggy then you’ll be walking. And don’t even think about missing this, I won’t have you disgrace the family with your absence.” Her father, who had the decency to use her name rather than calling her thing or wretch. She had always got the impression that he pitied her, or at the very least resented her less than the rest.

She sighed, jammed her feet into her only pair of actual shoes, and left the relative peace of her own room behind. The whole of their tower was manic, everyone rushing to get themselves prepared to be seen at the ceremony. Other families had more time to get ready, some were still in the process of fixing hair and yelling about misplaced items. Bethany was sure she would get the blame for at least some of those lost things, but that would come later. For now she was invisible, a ghost slipping through the proceedings, unseen and unimportant.

It was probably too much to hope that the whole evening would carry on that way. This might be Kara’s night, but it was always Bethany’s fault. They would probably try to blame her for the torrential downpour outside, too. Someone clattered down the stairs, bashing into her on their way, and she grabbed the rail to keep herself from falling. No apology, but then she had long since learnt not to expect one.

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@kitty-is-writing any suggestions?

#wip #my current wip #writeblr #rose & thorn

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journeydb · 6 months

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April 24 2023 Boulder (continued)

Continuing on with the retrospective of Hobie's life in photos, Michael, Bruce's cousin who lives in New York, was the only member of Bruce's family that Hobie knew growing up, and with whom he still has a strong relationship. Michael came to Colorado several times, including for Hobie's wedding to Katie, and we visited Michael often in New York.

Barbara, who now calls herself Rose, was Hobie's nanny when he was a baby until he was two and a half. We owned a retail store on the Pearl Street Mall (and also a second store for a year in Denver) when I became a mother and it was more than a full time job. Rose became Hobie's nanny and cared for him during the day while I was at work during the week for the first year of his life. After we closed the store she stayed with us on a more limited basis, just to make sure that I had some time to myself, especially to be able to sleep through the night. When Hobie was two and a half she decided to become a nurse and left our employment, but she has remained a friend and continues to be in Hobie's life even after all these years.

The Thompson family kids, Buck, Summer, and Wyeth, have always been close friends to Hobie, and more like siblings, since their dad, Nathan, is Bruce's best friend. We spent many occasions with them and traveled with them extensively throughout the U.S. and abroad. Hobie was "the fourth Thompson kid" growing up and they are all still close to us.

We traveled to Ensenada, Mexico several times with the Thompsons and other families from Boulder to build small houses with the Homes for Hope organization for people who until then had never had a home of their own before. Those experiences helped build a bond with our families and taught the kids about personal responsibility as privileged people to have compassion for others and do their best to be of service to others.

Education is critical in everyone's life and we were blessed to find the most supportive and loving school experiences for Hobie throughout his life, beginning in preschool at White Rose, then elementary school at Boulder Community School for Integrated Studies (BCSIS), middle school at Southern Hills, and high school at Watershed and Oakley. The saying "It takes a village to raise a child" couldn't be more true and our village was extensive and incredibly helpful. We made friends for life during our experiences at all those schools.

Many of the kids with whom Hobie went to school were also on his sports teams. His friend Peter from BCSIS was at Hobie's wedding and is one of his best friends to this day.

There were so many other people in Hobie's life who contributed to his happiness and growth and it's not possible, especially when Tumbler limits me to thirty photos in a post, to mention all of them, but here are a few photos of family and friends who have been important to all of us.

The most important people in Hobie's life as an adult, apart from us, of course, have been his wife Katie and her family. The Gambrells are the most WONDERFUL people and we are BLESSED to have them in our lives. From the moment Hobie and Katie began seeing each other we were grateful for her and our love for her has only grown exponentially over the years. And now they are the parents of our granddaughter, Maple, and have brought us so much joy through this little angel.

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nbmsports · 1 year

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Stock Market Returns Are Deceptively High

It has been a fine half year for stocks, money market funds and, to a lesser extent, bonds — so good, in comparison with last year, that you may feel like celebrating when you look at your quarterly portfolio statement.But this rosy picture doesn’t capture the entire situation for the mutual funds and exchange-traded funds used by most American investors.For one thing, while the recent market returns are real enough, the reports are missing critical information that would make the returns look less fabulous.A quirk in the calendar and in government disclosure rules always makes the fund numbers look considerably better when periods of poor performance move too far into the past to be included in the quarterly reports required for publicly traded funds. That happened this past quarter, when the miserable returns of 2022 were no longer fully represented in their stark awfulness.For another, bond returns, which are positive for the calendar year, have flagged recently. That’s largely because of uncertainty about the state of the economy and the outlook for inflation and interest rate increases. Although inflation dropped to a 3 percent annual rate in the latest Consumer Price Index report, the Federal Reserve is likely to raise interest rates again at its next meeting on July 25 and 26, and could keep doing so in further meetings. Bonds could suffer.Only money market funds — often dismissed as a form of “cash” and not included as one of the major asset groups — are in an unequivocally positive position. Yields on the 100 biggest money-market funds tracked by Crane Data average 4.94 percent, up from 0.6 percent just a year ago, and many funds are paying more than 5 percent annually.As the Fed raises its benchmark federal funds rate, money market fund rates follow. “I think they will keep grinding higher for a while,” Peter G. Crane, the president of Crane Data of Westborough, Mass., said in an interview. The good times for money market funds aren’t over quite yet.But for longer-term investors — those with horizons of a decade are more — the returns on stocks and bonds are more important than those for the inherently short-term money market funds. And the latest stock and bond numbers don’t change the big picture at all. The stock market over long periods tends to outperform bonds and cash investment, but at the cost of much greater volatility.Gaudy ReturnsAn odd thing happened to stock and bond fund returns this year, though you may not notice unless you take the time to look under the hood, as Daniel Wiener, chairman of Adviser Investments in Newton, Mass., pointed out in an email.He noted that 12-month performance tallies for a wide variety of funds had shifted from sharply negative in the first quarter this year to sharply positive in the second quarter. This shift had little to do with the recent performance of stocks and bonds.Instead it was about what happened last year, and how the dismal market of 2022 is being recorded in 12-month performance results.“Massive gains” are being reported for the second quarter, Mr. Wiener said, but they shouldn’t be taken at face value. “It’s all in the point-in-time periods over which returns are measured,” he added.Recall that the first half of last year was traumatically bad for many investors, especially the second quarter. Those four months were included in the 12-month returns that investors received in their fund statements in the spring, but they dropped out of the 12-month returns through June, the ones that people are looking at now.For example, the S&P 500 rose 15.9 percent in the calendar year through June, a big rise for six months, no question. For the 12 months through June, it rose a staggering 17.6 percent. But consider the tallies that were correct just one month earlier — yet never viewed by most fund shareholders because these numbers didn’t correspond to the quarterly reporting schedule mandated by the Securities and Exchange Commission.The S&P 500 rose 8.9 percent in the calendar year through May, still a decent increase. But the startling thing is the 12-month gain of that index through May was only 1.2 percent.The 12-month return in the S&P 500 jumped 16.4 percentage points in just one month. And the higher return reported in June, the 17.6 percent 12-month increase, is the commonly seen metric, giving rise to far more optimistic feelings about the stock market than a mere 1.2 percent return.What happened? Two things.The stock market rose 6.5 percent in June. But the more consequential change was the S&P 500’s 8.4 percent decline in June 2022. That year-old monthly loss was included in the 12-month return through May 2023, but dropped out in the far more important June 2023 quarterly report.A Bigger PictureUsing data provided by Morningstar, a financial research company, I found that this pattern extends across funds of many kinds.Stock and bond investors in mutual funds and E.T.F.s. had positive returns on average for the second quarter, which ended on June 30, as well as the first quarter, which ended on March 31.Yet the average 12-month returns for stocks and bonds shifted radically from quarter to quarter, mainly because of what happened in 2022, not this year.Here are the numbers from the most recent quarter:And here they are for the first quarter, just three months earlier:So what’s the real picture here?In simple terms, stock and bond markets are up this year but were down last year. Most investors have lost money since the market peaked in January 2022. Over the longer periods required by the S.E.C. for standard fund returns — one, three, five and 10 years and from the fund’s inception — broad stock market funds are generally positive. Bond funds tend to be positive for the longer periods — five and 10 years or more — but negative over one and three years.Odd things happen for longer-term returns, too. Even the seemingly stable 10-year returns can shift sharply from month to month, altering investors’ perceptions of the strength of the market. That happened four years ago.As I pointed out then, the S&P 500 plummeted more than 50 percent from Sept. 7, 2007, until March 9, 2009. But in the spring of 2019, the last of that horrendous decline aged out of the 10-year trailing stock market returns. The 10-year returns rose abruptly for hundreds of funds.It’s important to understand that this is happening because when evidence of sharp losses recedes into the past, it’s easy to overlook the risks involved in investing.TakeawaysEven knowing that the markets periodically inflict great pain, I continue to be fairly upbeat about stocks — and the U.S. economy — for the long haul, while expecting traumas more frequently than anyone would like.So for short-term financial needs — those of the next year or two — I view the risks of stocks as way too high for comfort, and I’m minimizing my holdings of long-term bonds right now, too. Bonds of short duration and, especially, cash are better for shorter horizons.Happily, money market funds are performing splendidly. They seem a good bet for the next six months or so.On Wednesday, the S.E.C. adopted a series of complex measures to enhance the funds’ stability in a potential crisis down the road. We’ll have to see how that plays out.For now, I’m pleased that my fund returns are looking much better now than they did three months ago, but I’m not confident that will be true next quarter or even next month.That’s not because I’m know where the markets are going. I don’t. But I do know that they frequently fall. And I know for certain that one year ago, in July 2022, the S&P 500 rose 9.1 percent.That was good news back then. But it also means there is a strong chance that my 12-month stock market return will decline this month. That’s because a gain of 9.1 percent is a high hurdle and, in any given month, it’s unlikely that the market will surmount it.But buffered by bonds and money market funds, I’ll invest in the stock market anyway. Source link Read the full article

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messers-moony · 3 years

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Runaways | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Twin!Fem!Reader

Summary: Regulus refuses to lose yet another sibling after Sirius leaves.

Being a Hufflepuff Prefect with a mischievous older Gryffindor brother is a lot of work. Sirius is frequently getting into trouble, and Remus is no help. But honestly? Y/n isn’t either. If anything, she laughs at her brother and her friend's antics. Y/n is the only Black family member still in good shape with all her family.

Sirius was overjoyed when Y/n was into Hufflepuff. His little sister following in his footsteps of no longer being a Slytherin. However, Y/n’s twin brother - Regulus - was sorted into Slytherin. She didn’t let that define their relationship. Y/n was close with her twin and the Marauders. Remus often bumped her shoulder in the halls making her smile. The werewolf often had that effect on her. So did James, and so did Peter.

But no one made a giant smile appear on her face than Sirius and Regulus.

“Oi! Little sis!” His voice, it was calm and bright, something she hadn’t heard in a long time.

Y/n turned, “Hey Siri.”

Sirius’ arm went around her shoulders, “How’s your day been?”

“Good, yours?”

“Oh,” Sirius sighed, dreaming, making her chuckle, “It’s been perfect, dear sister.”

“What did you do now?” Y/n fake scolded, “Everything.” Sirius replied.

A familiar raven-haired boy was making their way towards them, hoping and praying that they wouldn’t notice. His green tie and green robes. The prefect badge on the left side of his chest. The wavy black hair and the beautiful grey eyes. The 5’11 Slytherin walking towards his twin sister and older brother. The people he adored the most in the world but barely talked to within the castle walls. His plan ultimately failed.

Regulus turned to walk by his two siblings only for Y/n to wrap an around his shoulder, “Reggie!”

“Y/n, Sirius.” Regulus greeted with the corners of his lips barely turning up, “How’s your day been?” Sirius asked, turning to look at his younger brother.

“Good until two idiots came along.” He joked with a smile adorning his features.

Y/n put her hand on her heart dramatically, “You wound me!”

Both brothers chuckled, and a Professor came to greet them in the middle of the hallway, seeing their beautiful smiling faces, “All three Black’s in one spot. How brilliant!” Slughorn commented as Sirius faked tipping his hat.

The three Black siblings. The Black trio. One Gryffindor, one Slytherin, and one Hufflepuff. Oh, how Walburga adored them despite the way she treated them. It was never in her heart to treat them the way she does. Orion had such a soft spot for his twins. But alas, both parents knew that if they didn’t raise them correctly - or without abuse - they would only get hurt worse. Walburga knew that if she treated them the way she truly wanted to, they’d be split.

But that never compared to the aching in her heart when she had to cast a spell on her children. The kids she was sworn to protect. Walburga never wanted this life, never wanted to marry Orion, hell, she never even wanted kids, but Merlin, her kids were great. Slughorn and McGonagall would send her letters of how wonderfully they’ve been doing in their studies, how Sirius made another cauldron explode, how Regulus caught the snitch and won the Quidditch Cup, how Y/n made prefect and was top of her class.

It was beautiful, and for once, Walburga was happy. She hid all the letters from Orion. If Orion knew he’d made Walburga send a howler, and she didn’t want that. Godric how she hated the awful red colors the howlers came in. The awful shade of brilliant rose. It brought a grimace to her face just thinking about it. But like everything, the truth comes out, and Sirius eventually got a howler.

Sirius let go of Y/n to begin Transfiguration while the two twins made their way to Herbology. Not before Sirius kissing the tops of their heads like he did when they were kids, “I love you guys!”

“Black, get in here!” McGonagall yelled, and both twins laughed, “We love you too!” They replied in unison.

Regulus and Y/n laughed, their arms around each other's shoulders, “I never want him to leave.” Regulus admitted.

“Me either.”

The day was uneventful. More learning, more foolishness, and more laughter. Professor Sprout couldn’t help but smile at the Black twins in her classroom. Regulus was always ice cold when not around his siblings. They made him shine even if he couldn’t find a reason to. It didn’t matter where they were. The Black trio always brought smiles with them. Whether it was Y/n and Sirius, the twins, or all three, their smiles, their laughs, their happiness was so contagious. Three children from an abusive home, coming together to make each other smile. How is it possible?

Y/n would be the answer. The glue to the Black family. The bond to keep her brothers from drifting apart. But that all changed in the summer of 1976.

It was dark and another day of yelling. Sirius couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to leave. He wanted to go. It was bound to happen. He kept telling himself. But did that excuse leaving his siblings behind? Would he risk their safety for his own pleasure? Sirius didn’t have time to think about it. He packed his trunk and opened the window. One leg out and just about to get the other over until his door opened.

His little sister, “Sirius?”

“Hey, sis…” Sirius hated how his voice shook and almost broke.

“What- Where are you going?”

He couldn’t help it; she needed to know the truth, “Away. Far away from here.”

Y/n crossed her arms slowly, “Without saying goodbye?”

“Goodbye?” Sirius replied with a nervous smile.

She shook her head with a smile, walking toward his window. Sirius expected a smack, a lecture. But she didn’t do that. Y/n cupped both his cheeks and kissed his forehead like he did when she was hurt. Tears filled his grey eyes without permission as he stared at his younger sister's glossed eyes. Gently she ran her hand through his hair, moving it back.

“I suppose you were never good at goodbyes.”

“Not really, no.” Sirius chuckled.

Y/n smiled, “I know you aren’t happy here. You were never happy here.” Sirius interrupted before she could continue, “You could give Remus a run for his money.”

“Listen, Sirius, please.” She pleaded, and Sirius looked at her eyes; he’d miss them, “All I ask, is that you take care of yourself. Regulus and I, we’ll manage. But you should say goodbye to him too….”

“Go get him.”

It took minutes, but Regulus was eventually standing in front of his older brother, one leg out of the window and the other inside his bedroom. Y/n stood behind them, arms crossed with tears streaming down her cheeks silently. Regulus looked like he wanted to cry, but he didn’t. Sirius didn’t care anymore. Silver trails ran down his cheeks, especially when Regulus hugged his older brother with all his strength.

“I'm going to miss you.”

Sirius sniffled, “I’ll miss you a hundred times more.”

“Impossible.” Y/n interjected, smiling.

Regulus and Sirius pulled apart, Regulus now standing beside his twin, “I need you to know,” Sirius began, looking at Regulus, “James isn’t your replacement. He is nothing compared to you. You’re my brother, always.”

“And you,” He turned to Y/n after Regulus nodded, “You’re my baby sister, through and through. Just because I’m leaving doesn’t mean you can give me detention.”

They chuckled, and possibly for the last time, “Always.”

“Forever.”

“Together.”

Sirius gave a watery smile and finished the jump out his window. Wordlessly Y/n shut it behind him. Regulus stood in front of the glass pane until Sirius was out of sight and gave a heavy sigh. Y/n was standing right beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“I knew it was going to happen. I just wish it wasn’t so soon.” Regulus whispered, “I know.” Y/n agreed.

Regulus took her hand, “Forever.”

“Together.” Y/n replied, squeezing his hand.

So many they lost their always, but they still had each other. The next night at dinner was dreadful. Possibly the worst one yet, “Where is he!”

“I- I don’t know.” Y/n answered, cowering away, her hand rubbing her forearm.

Walburga looked at Regulus, and he shook his head, “Where is Sirius?”

“Gone.” Walburga replied to her husband, who gave a mere shrug at the answer, “Our heir is gone, Orion! What are we going to do now.”

“The reasonable thing, Y/n is next in line.”

Walburga scoffed, “Absolutely not.”

Regulus reached for his sister's hand after noticing the tears collecting in her eyes, “She is a disgrace! Just like Sirius!”

Orion put down the daily prophet, looking at his wife across the table, “What would you like me to do about it?”

“Regulus!” The boy stiffened, “You are our next heir.”

“No!” Y/n exclaimed, her rage taking over, “That isn’t how it works! I’m the next in line, disgrace or not. I'm older than Regulus.”

Walburga pulled out her wand, but Y/n didn’t flinch, “With that courage, you should be in Gryffindor.” The older woman seethed.

“You feel no remorse, do you?” Y/n asked, but she did; Godric, Walburga hated herself, “Putting your wand to my neck like I’m some training dummy.”

“How do you think we feel! Our older brother is gone! The one who took care of us because our parents can’t.”

Y/n had tears flowing down her cheeks, “How do you think we feel?”

The girl stood up from the table without being dismissed after letting go of Regulus’ hand, “I saw the tapestry.”

“You burned him from it! What kind of monster are you?! He’s your son regardless of his house. I’ll be your heir, but I will never be your puppet.”

Y/n ran up to her bedroom. Walburga and Orion stared at their son, who sat as stiff as a board. More minutes passed, and Regulus left the table too but not before speaking to his parents, “I’ll- I’ll be your heir. I’ll be your son.”

“Brilliant. Thank you, Regulus.” Walburga smiled.

Regulus lost his brother. He wasn’t losing his sister. But over time, it felt like he was. There was no more laughter in the halls. Only one Black sibling was laughing and smiling - Sirius. There was no more hugging in the halls, no more playing around. Regulus and Y/n were ice. They were cold and in pain. That was the first thing Sirius noticed. His siblings hadn’t stopped by his carriage like usual. It dampened his mood.

“Hey, I’m sure they’re just busy.” James had reassured, but Sirius wasn’t so sure.

It was the first ride to Hogwarts that Sirius was utterly silent. He played with the ribbon in his hand. It was a green ribbon that he carried with him everywhere. The boys never knew what it was or where it came from. They had just discovered that Sirius would fidget with it when he was upset. Remus noticed it first - of course - but James did too, and shortly Peter followed. It was her ribbon, Y/n’s ribbon. A ribbon she wore in her hair when she was seven.

After a bad punishment, Sirius had been given Y/n took care of him. Washed his cuts and plastered them. It was then she learned how much Sirius loved when people did his hair. So she braided it for him and tied it off with her green ribbon. He remembered the way it felt on his fingertips. So perfectly combed and webbed together. It was the reason his hair was long enough to braid. Every Quidditch match, he’d weave it. James asked why once, and Sirius ignored him, but Y/n knew. It was okay to keep secrets sometimes.

Fifth-year for the twins went by smoothly. Sirius’ sixth year was hell. He missed his siblings so much somedays it was hard to get up in the morning. Regardless it was hard to get Sirius out of bed in the morning, but this year was particularly rough. It was like he was in a constant state of Remus after the full moon - tired, fatigued and sad.

He missed Regulus’ smile and Y/n’s laughter. Godric, he missed everything! Sirius cried - sobbed about it at night. His silencing charms weren’t good. It left James and Remus in a tricky spot. It was apparent he didn’t want to talk about it because if he did, he would’ve by now. Remus stopped seeing the twins during prefect rounds and stopped seeing Y/n altogether. It was like she was avoiding them.

The twins did their prefect rounds together, studied together, and only talked to each other. It broke Sirius’ heart. He ruined everything just for his own pleasure. But hadn’t Y/n meant what she said? That she wanted him to be happy? Sirius wasn’t happy. He was far from it.

Regulus had nightmares every night about his parents. About his brother leaving, about everything. So he didn’t sleep most nights, and instead, he threw himself into his studies. Occasionally he’d realized that he had done two essays and then understood that he no longer had to do his brother's homework. Regulus had copies of reports everywhere because it was a habit. A habit he had to lose.

Y/n stopped baking extra cookies. Every Saturday, she’d go to the kitchens to bake a new delicacy the muggle way. Y/n couldn’t help but accidentally bake extra for her Gryffindor brother, only to realize that she wouldn’t give them to him. Instead, she gave them to the house elves to serve after dinner in the Great Hall. They’d appear on the Gryffindor table, and Sirius knew they were a product of her.

During the summer holiday of 1977, Regulus began to notice that Y/n gone often. Walburga would send her away, or Orion would make her run an errand. Regardless Y/n wasn’t around as much. Was she going to run like Sirius? Walburga and Orion sent her to Auror training. Y/n was young, too young for this training. It was Auror training, but they weren’t training her to work for the Ministry. They were preparing for her to become a death eater.

Weeks passed, and Regulus felt saddened by her absence. So one day at dinner, he spoke up, “Why haven’t you been present at home?”

Y/n chuckled, “Are you serious? You haven’t told him?”

“What- What do you mean?” Regulus questions suspiciously.

Walburga coughed, “She’s been put into training.”

“Training?”

“Auror training.”

“But not to be an Auror, to be a death eater.”

Y/n scoffed, “Bullshit, tell him the real reason.”

She looked at both her parents, “They don’t want me anymore. They send me away because it’s easier than disowning me, like Sirius.”

“N- No.” Regulus denied, “Mum, tell me that she’s lying.”

Silence, “Answer me, please.” Regulus pleaded as a water film glossed his grey eyes.

“She’s not lying.” Orion stated, and Regulus let his tears fall down his cheeks, “No! I won’t let you take her from me!”

Regulus stood up, and his chair flipped behind him, “If you disown her, you disown me!”

“Reggie…”

“No! Please no!” Regulus was clawing at his hair, sobbing, “Don’t take her too….” He whimpered.

Y/n began to stand up until Walburga sent a spell her way, throwing her back. It just made Regulus cry more. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. They were sixteen! This wasn’t fair. So Regulus stood up and held back his tears. Walburga held her wand to his throat, making Y/n nervous. But Regulus was cold, ice cold. Hastily he grabbed his mother's wand and snapped it. Y/n didn’t have time to gape. Regulus ran to her, and they ran.

Through the front door to anywhere else in the dark of the night. Orion was too busy with his wife to realize his children were gone. Y/n was sure they were miles away before they stopped. No magic could be done. They weren’t seventeen yet. They’d have to survive without magic. But then she heard it. A howl. It was a risk, a big one, but they had to take it.

She took her brother's hand and began running towards it, “Y/n, where are we going?”

“To whatever is howling.”

“Are you mental?”

“Maybe.” Y/n shrugged.

Suddenly he saw it. That look Sirius always had. She looked free, happy, and mischievous. Suddenly she wasn’t Y/n Black. She was just Y/n. His twin sister. The girl that would beg her brothers to adventure with her, to trust her blindly. That’s what he was doing now - trusting her blindly. They must’ve been miles away. Regulus didn’t even know how they got that far, but in the forest, the howling got louder.

But at the edge of the forest was a black dog, guarding the entrance to the woods, making sure that no one entered. The stag was taking care of the werewolf. They took turns. One full moon, the dog, was to stand guard, next the stag. Y/n cried upon seeing the animal. She dropped to her knees, and Regulus knelt beside her. The dog looked familiar and gave them both great kisses. They fell asleep together. Y/n, Regulus and the dog.

The following morning, James went back out to the forest after realizing Padfoot was missing. At the entrance of the forest, he saw them. The Black trio. So he left them. Sirius knew the way back; it wasn’t worth ruining their moment. Regulus stirred awake first and woke the dog. The dog left a multitude of kisses on the twins. Y/n woke up shortly after.

Regulus was appalled to see the dog turn into his older brother but happy nonetheless, “Sirius!”

“Reggie.” Sirius replied, holding him close.

They parted, and Sirius kissed his forehead, “How?”

“The howling.”

“How did you leave?”

“I snapped mum’s wand.”

Sirius looked flabbergasted, “Really?”

“She- She was going to separate us. I didn’t- I couldn’t lose another sibling.” Regulus admitted, and Sirius took him into his arms again, “Never again. I promise.”

Y/n chuckled, “Looks like we’re all runaways.”

Sirius grabbed her into the hug, “But we’re doing it together.”

2K notes · View notes

tinyyoungblood · 3 years

Note

hi!! do you know that tiktok trend where the girl asks her bf if he can temporarily break up with her so she can be heartbroken when she listens to olivia rodrigo’s new album and the bf always says no? could you do that but with peter and avenger!reader? i don’t really know how the avengers play into that but i trust you to think of something great. love your work babes <3

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

word count: 2.7k

a/n: hey fren, tysm <3 i do know that trend, and it always warms my darn heart. you probably meant for this to be a headcanon but halfway through i realised that i was writing full sentences, so i just rolled with it bc i have no self-control lol enjoy x

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Peter, I need you to break up with me.”

Not a moment later, you heard a series of loud crashes and Peter stumbled out of the bathroom, hopping on one leg while fiddling with his zipper. “What did you just say?” His eyes were wild as they scanned your face.

“I need you to break up with me,” you repeated calmly, not taking your eyes off your laptop.

“Break up with you?” Peter echoed, hand raking through his hair in bewilderment. “Why would I do that? Do you want to break up?”

This made you look up. Peter was staring at you like you had just insulted his face, making it quite an effort to stay serious. “It’s just for 34 minutes and 46 seconds,” you assured. “So I can listen to Olivia Rodrigo’s new album.”

He blinked at you.

“What?”

“Please?” You set your laptop aside, shuffling to the end of the bed so you were sitting right in front of him. “I want to listen to it in full effect with a broken heart and everything.”

“I…” Peter slowly shook his head. A helpless laugh escaped him. “Um, no. Thank you.” He turned and made to return to the bathroom.

“Peter,” you whined and grabbed for his hand, pulling him to a halt.

“Sorry, angel.” He shrugged, supressing the faint tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Pleeeeaase.”

“Nope.”

You pouted. “We can break up when you train with Bucky! In that way you won’t even notice because you’ll be busy and distracted. I won’t even be on your mind.” You weren’t sure what you had said that made Peter stare at you like you were insane, but it took him a second to snap out of it.

He cupped your face with his hands and made sure to meet your eyes. “Babe, I think about you all the time.” He said it like it was a wish he wanted to word correctly. Slow and precise. Then he switched to a lighter tone that implied that he was done with the conversation. “I’m not breaking up with you.” With that he turned and left for the bathroom.

“Fine,” you called back although the water was already running and you doubted that Peter could hear you. And if he did, he probably didn’t care. You took that as your cue to leave. Defeated, you plucked your headphones into your phone and picked out a song of Olivia’s album at random.

Steve was lounging on the couch of the common room when you entered. He looked up from his magazine and gave you a small smile by way of greeting. You returned it by tapping two fingers at your temple in salute, ignoring the way how his stare lingered a little longer. You sat down next to him. When you locked eyes again, you saw the silent question on his face and let out a laugh. It ended up sounding more like a delightful scoff.

“I know Tony takes pride in being the philanthropist amongst us, but for someone who grew up in the ice age, you’re really good at reading people’s faces.” You wanted to annoy Steve, maybe even coax out a laugh, but he just kept looking at you, and you held his gaze. You were good at it—an aftereffect of living with Bucky who happened to love the same yoghurt as you did. Sometimes you put all western movies to shame with the way you narrowed your eyes at each other early in the morning in front of the fridge.

To your luck, Steve was just as stubborn, which meant that you two could’ve kept it going until death if it weren’t for the door banging open.

“I can’t believe you did this to me!” A voice boomed. You took a wild guess and assumed it was Clint.

“Tell me about it!” Another voice bellowed right back.

A second later, Sam and Clint marched into the room, furious, whereas Bucky strolled in behind them with no care in the world.

The former two were holding bags of food. Both were animated and waving their arms through the air while arguing. You turned down the volume of your phone in time to hear Steve demand, “What’s going on?”

Clint and Sam stared daggers at Bucky until Steve amended, “Buck, what did you do?”

The man in question turned around, facing his best friend in exasperation. “I asked these two to get food for me.” This earned him a snarl. Bucky waved them off and examined his metal arm, unconcerned. “Honestly, I have no idea why they’re getting so worked up about it.”

“We—” Sam gestured wildly between Clint and himself. “—were asked to pick up food for him from two different places. And neither of us knew about it!”

“Yes, neither of us knew,” Clint chimed in, eyes narrowing at Bucky who was busy flicking dust off his arm. “And I don’t know about you, Sam, but I was touched. I was moved, okay? Because Bucky never asks for anything and here I was, thinking we’re starting to bond or whatever but now I just feel USED.”

Sam gave a harsh sound in agreement.

“Bucky,” said Steve after no one had anything to add. “What do you have to say to that?”

Your gaze flitted between them, not sure what to expect. Bucky didn’t give any sign of wanting to respond, making you wonder if he had heard Cap at all. But then a slow smile swept over his lips and you noted that it was probably the most feline smile you’d ever seen. It was a smile storybook villains wore after burning down the world.

“The only thing I have to say is that I regret not having the moment they ran into each other in the elevator on video tape, because that—” He turned and looked Sam and Clint straight in the eye. “—was amazing.”

No one spoke.

“Ruthless,” you said under your breath and just like marionettes, the four men glanced you before another argument broke.

You took the chance to turn the volume back up. “happier” was playing and you settled further into the couch to watch the scene unfold. Sam was arguing so passionately that the vein on his neck was making an impressive appearance. Clint, on the other hand, had a palm pressed flat to his chest; his face showing pure betrayal. Bucky didn’t seem to care for the chaos. He tried multiple times to grab for the bags only for one of them to move out of his reach. When you glanced at Steve, you nearly lost it.

He was staring at them like his lifespan had just been reduced to ten years. He looked like he wanted to throw pebbles after them.

Nudging him with your arm, you silently handed him one of your earphones. He glanced at you and hesitated, probably thinking of the many times you had offered him a taste of blaring electronic music. You rolled your eyes and insisted again. This time, Steve took it and you watched in amusement as his brows rose in surprise.

“I like the piano,” he mouthed and glimpsed at the name of the song. You grinned.

In the meantime, Clint and Sam had decided to form an alliance. They had planted themselves in the opposite couch, digging into the contents of the brown bags while Bucky gawked at them from the other side of the room with his mouth ajar and heart ripped out of his chest. Shaking his head in disbelief, he let himself fall into the armchair facing them. He looked devastated. You weren’t sure if you had to stifle a laugh or tears.

Next to you, Steve chocked back a laugh. You quirked an eyebrow and considered him only to realise the reason behind his glee. Bucky was brooding in his seat while Sam and Clint did an excellence job on commenting every bite. Nothing has ever received as much praise as that pasta, and you were certain that if this were a cartoon, there would be rain clouds hovering above Bucky’s head. As if the angels had set it up themselves, you took notice of the lyrics.

I hope you're happy, but not like how you were with me

I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go

So find someone great but don't find no one better

Bucky was pouting, poking the leather of his armchair with his finger while stealing glances at Sam and Clint. It was perfect. Steve slapped a hand on his chest and he tipped his head back, laughing.

I hope you're happy, I wish you all the best, really

Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me

And think of me fondly when your hands are on her

I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

You were both laughing hysterically. The others had stopped their on-going war to stare at the two of you; their expressions baffled. The song came to an end and Steve gave back your earphone, rubbing his eye as if wiping away a tear. He rose and walked over to Bucky, hurling him to his feet and putting an arm around his shoulders.

“Oh, Buck,” Steve said with a note of laughter in his voice. “There’s a song I need to show you.” You smiled as you watched them leave.

“Well, this was fun.” You pushed yourself off the couch and shook your head as Sam offered you some of his sushi. “Thanks, but I’m on a mission to get heartbroken.”

Leaving the men to their food, you wandered the halls and listened to “traitor” as you walked past Wanda’s room. Her door was open and you could see that Vision was in the middle of a chess game with Bruce and Wanda. By the looks of it, Vision was as good as winning and you reined the urge to cheer for him. You peaked around the door frame and saw that Vision had their king in check. Deep betrayal crossed Wanda’s face.

You chuckled quietly and whispered, “FRIDAY, play what I’m listening to right now through the speakers in Wanda’s room.” FRIDAY didn’t bother to respond but not a second later, the lyrics were blasting through her room and their heads snapped up in confusion.

Don't you dare forget about the way

You betrayed me

'Cause I know that you'll never feel sorry

For the way I hurt, yeah

“Wanda?“ You heard Vision’s careful voice. “What is going on?”

Guess you didn't cheat

But you're still

You're still a traitor

“I’m not sure, but these lyrics aren’t wrong…You are a traitor.” Wanda narrowed her eyes at him, slowly bobbing her head to the music. Treason danced in her eyes. It was the beginning of a villain origin story.

“Maybe it’s a sign of God,” Bruce said and you almost burst out laughing.

God, I wish that you had thought this through

Before I went and fell in love with you

“Hell yeah!” Wanda yelled and this time you bolted down the hallway, wheezing. You dashed right into Tony’s lab and slammed the door.

“What are you on?” He looked up in amusement. You simply shook your head, laughter still bubbling over your lips.

“Just spreading love in this facility.” You waved your hand at nothing in particular and Tony nodded.

“Right, I heard you asked Peter to break up with you to listen to that one album? Very dramatic. I like it.”

“See.” You gestured at him, indicating that he was the only one who got it. “It’s a good album. Maybe you should ask Pepper to divorce you.”

Tony gave a humourless laugh. “Yeah, I don’t think she would come back if I asked her.”

“Yikes,” you mumbled and this time Tony’s laughed for real.

“So what? You’ve just been walking around waiting for heartbreak?” He turned back to whatever he was working on. You stepped closer to get a peek.

“Precisely.”

“Sounds tiring.”

“I’m powered by exhaustion” You handed him the wrench he needed. “Want a listen? I think there’s a song you might like.”

He contemplated the offer and lifted his shoulder in a half-shrug. “Sure, why not.” You couldn’t help but squeal. You knew that Tony probably didn’t care but sharing your music was always exciting.

Beaming, you removed your headphones and connected your phone to the speakers of Tony’s lab. The first tunes of “good 4 u” started playing and Tony tapped his foot to the beat, head bobbing just slightly. When the chorus hit, he stood up and you stepped back, thinking he wanted to headbang. Instead, he reached for a tool that was further away. You didn’t miss the way he moved his shoulders in a little dance move though.

“I like this one,” he said, and you flashed him a smile. You continued working on the suit, handing Tony things you knew he needed until you passed him a plier and he froze. You furrowed your brows, glanced at the tool you knew was the right one, and cocked your head in silent question.

Maybe I'm too emotional

Or maybe you never cared at all

Looking you straight in the eyes, he flung the plier over his shoulder, opened a drawer, and took out another plier to use on his suit. You gasped.

“How dare you,” you whispered in shock. Tony had the nerve to shrug.

“Enjoy your little heartbreak moment, Y/N.” He shooed you away like a cat. “FRIDAY, yank up the volume, would you.”

Well, good for you, you look happy and healthy

Not me, if you ever cared to ask

Good for you, you're doin' great out there without me

“Guys?” Peter’s voice was drowned out by the booming music. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching in amusement as you and Tony towered on the lab tables, using screwdrivers as provisional microphones. While Tony played a terrific air guitar, you sank dramatically to your knees and impressed the crowd with your air drumming skills.

“Guys?” Peter tried again, chuckling. This time you and Tony whipped around at the same time and pointed straight at Peter.

Like a damn sociopath

You threw your arms up in the air and spun in circles while Tony jumped into quite an impressive split leap.

I've lost my mind

I've spent the night cryin' on the floor in my bathroom

Just over the fact that I really don't get it

But I guess good for you

The song came to an end, and you leapt on Tony’s table to share a screwdriver with him as you sang the last lyrics together.

Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily

The song ended and all you could hear was heavy breathing. Peter began to clap. “This was great, you guys. Wow.”

You exchanged glances with Tony before making a show of bowing at the waist.

“So this is what happens when I refuse to break up with you?” Peter strolled over to where you sat on the lab table, positioning himself between your legs. Tony chuckled and jumped off to grab a water bottle from across the room.

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate on that,” you said, just for the devil of it.

Peter smiled. “Cap and Bucky are crying over a song, Vision is sending Wanda flowers in ten-minute intervals, and you are down here having a rock concert with Tony.”

You gave him a toothy grin. “I was just feeling sour.”

* * *

stay hydrated pals

2K notes · View notes

fqreverwinter · 3 years

Text

“you belong with me”

— — — —

relationship: tobey!peter parker x fem!reader

summary: mary jane watson was your beautiful best friend. you were simply her tagalong sidekick. you had a crush on peter parker since freshman year, but you always thought he was staring lovingly at mary jane.

warnings: light cursing, school fight

word count: 2.8k

notes: hi! this is my first tumblr post/imagine! i am in love with tobey’s peter parker, and there is a lack of love for him on this site, so this is my contribution! hope you enjoy!

masterlist

Mary Jane Watson was absolutely perfect. She had gorgeous red hair, blemish-free fair skin, and striking blue eyes. Her voice was melodic and her smile was contagious. She had the best clothes out of anyone in Midtown High. She was the star in every school play and dated the most popular boy in school.

And you? Well, you were her best friend. Nothing more. You didn't have perfect skin or perfect clothes or perfect social status. You were simply by her side.

But you loved MJ. She had been your closest friend since you were little. Her grandmother lived next door to you in a little neighborhood in Queens. MJ's one flaw was her messy home life, but she covered it up perfectly. When her parents spent the night fighting, however, she stayed at her grandma's house. One day, when you were both in kindergarten, you spotted her playing outside one morning. You walked over and introduced yourself.

"I was gonna go on the swings in my backyard. Do you wanna come with me?"

MJ nodded. You smiled and brought her to your treehouse. The two of you spent the entire day chasing each other around your yard and continued to play every day she was at her grandma's. When you started school together in the fall, you became even closer.

However, when middle school started, your dynamic change. MJ became interested in boys and theater while you kept mostly to yourself. As her popularity rose, yours stayed stagnant. But she tried her best to include you in her new friend group, which you were appreciative of. You didn't particularly fit in, but you sucked it up, until she started dating Flash Thompson.

Flash was a stereotypical jock: loud, mean, and dumb. You had no idea what Mary Jane saw in him. She literally had every boy in the school following her like a lost puppy, but she chose the worst of them all.

Even though you were invited to all the parties and events because you were MJ's friend, you never really talked to anyone. You kept to yourself in the corner, watching and listening. You loved your best friend, but you didn't love being her best friend.

You always felt like you were glanced over. In the hallways, at dances, at lunch, you were just the girl at Mary Jane's side. Every one's eyes were always on her, but one pair hurt you the most.

It was no secret that Peter Parker was in love with MJ. Everyone knew it, except for her. Peter was an outcast. If Flash was the stereotypical jock, then he was the stereotypical nerd. He was awkward, shy, and too focused on school. And at every chance he got, he was staring at MJ.

And every time you caught his gaze, you wished he was looking at you.

You first started crushing on Peter in a freshman chemistry class. He was your lab partner, and you two instantly bonded over a shared respect for science. You didn't see him as the "freak" that every one else did. He was sweet and charming in a nerdy way, but you liked him none the less. Every day when he sat next to you, you couldn't help but feel butterflies and giggle like a little girl. But Peter never noticed. He was too busy gazing at MJ in front of you.

Once you were adopted into the new "popular" friend group, you drifted from Peter. You witnessed Flash and his friends bullying him, but you were too nervous to speak up, and admittedly, a little upset that he was in love with MJ rather than you.

You kept your crush on him a secret, but you still pined for him, even though you know you did him wrong. But every time his beautiful blue eyes fell on Mary Jane, you couldn't help but regret it.

Now, it was senior year. You hadn't really spoken to Peter since freshman year, other than a passing greeting. You were getting more and more fed up with the group you were stuck in. Mary Jane paid less and less attention to you, leaving you feeling more invisible than ever.

You noticed a change in Peter one day. It was after a field trip to a lab at Columbia University. He came to school the next day with a new breath of confidence and without his glasses. You felt heat rise to your cheeks when you saw his eyes for the first time. They were so icy blue, more blue than you ever noticed.

At lunch, you were stuck next to Flash, and Peter was sitting by himself. You watched as he looked at MJ walking towards the table, but she didn't even notice him. You felt sorry for him because you knew how it was to be in an unrequited love situation. Suddenly, MJ slipped on a puddle of orange juice. Almost like he knew it was going to happen, Peter turned around and caught her, then caught her entire lunch on her tray without missing a drop. You widened your eyes as your heart skipped a beat. MJ thanked him, but he was too shy to say anything back. She walked to the table and sat next to you.

“What was that?" you asked.

"I have no idea," she answered with a laugh. "But at least my outfit isn't ruined."

You laughed lightly, but gasped when a few stray peas launched at you and Mary Jane. You both looked up to see Flash covered in someone's lunch. He was beyond pissed as he turned around to see who flung it at him. Peter was quickly fleeing the cafeteria, a lunch tray dragging behind him.

"Parker?" he said in a furious tone. He brushed the pudding off of his head and followed him out.

"Oh no," MJ said, standing up and chasing him. You went after her as she called Flash's name.

"Flash, it was an accident!" she yelled as he squared up against Peter.

“My fist breaking your teeth, that’s the accident,” he responded through gritted teeth. You arrived to see Peter cowered against the much taller man. You felt your heart beat out of your chest in fear for him.

“Flash, let him go!” you yelled.

“Shut up, Miss Perfect,” he countered.

“I don’t wanna fight you, Flash,” Peter said as his voice trembled.

“I wouldn’t wanna fight me neither.”

Flash put his fists back up as everyone started egging him on. He swung, but Peter quickly dodged it. Flash kept throwing punches, but every time, he missed. Peter slid out of the way like he knew it was coming before it even happened. You stood there shocked, your hand over your mouth as MJ continued to try and reason with her boyfriend.

One of Flash’s toadies came from behind in an effort to surprise-tackle Peter. But as the boy charged at him, Peter jumped up and did a back-flip, landing securely on his feet. Everyone gasped, and even Peter seemed a little shocked.

“He’s all yours, man,” the toady said. Flash pushed him back then started taking swing after swing at Peter. He dodged every single fist. You couldn’t help but smile a bit. He went from a nerd to a trained fighter in less than 24 hours, and you found it kind of attractive.

Peter began fighting back. He met Flash’s fists with his arm, eventually grabbing his wrist and twisting it. Flash groaned in pain and looked at Peter with fear. Peter threw one punch to Flash’s chest and sent him flying across the hallway. He bumped into a teacher, who dumped his lunch all over his face. Some bystanders laughed while others stared at Peter in shock. He stood there frozen, his fist still raised and his breathing quickening.

Mary Jane turned to him with a look of surprise before running to her boyfriend. You kept your eyes on Peter, your jaw dropped and eyes wide.

“Jeez, Parker, you are a freak,” the toady added before running to his friend.

A few teachers and the principal rushed over, pushing through the crowd and getting to Peter. The look of pleasant surprise on his face changed to a frown as the escorted him to the office.

“Alright, everyone. Show’s over. Get back to class.”

The crowd began to disperse as you slung your backpack over your shoulder and walked over to MJ and Flash.

“Are you okay?” you asked him with as little sincerity as possible.

“That kid is gonna get it,” Flash huffed, wiping mashed potatoes off his forehead. You bit back your laughter.

“That’s enough, Mr. Thompson. Go clean yourself off then meet us in the office.”

Two teachers ushered him to the bathroom, leaving you and MJ in the hallway.

“I can’t believe Peter hit him like that,” she said in disbelief as she stood up.

“To be fair, he did throw the first punch.”

“But still. I thought Peter was just a quiet sweetheart.”

“Well, I guess none of us really know him,” you commented with a smile on your face. Mary Jane scoffed as you both stepped into your literature class.

Throughout the whole lecture, you couldn’t get your mind off of Peter. His image definitely changed after today, but you weren’t sure if it was a good or bad thing. But you were just glad you got to witness him beating Flash’s ass.

Halfway through class, you asked to go to the bathroom. You needed to step out and get your mind off of him. The teacher wrote you a pass, and you quickly left.

After taking a few minutes to splash some water on your face and fix your hair, you decided to go back to literature. You walked past the office on your way back and spotted Peter in a chair. He looked nervous, so you walked inside.

"Hey. You okay?" you asked, taking a seat next to him. Peter looked over at you with a smile.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine."

"Are you gonna get in trouble?" you said with a laugh. He shrugged.

"I hope not. My aunt and uncle would be furious."

"Flash had it coming."

"I thought you were friends with him."

"Absolutely not," you joked. "I'm friends with MJ. He just happens to be her boyfriend."

"Right," Peter said under his breath, the smile falling from his face.

"I just didn't know you could fight, Parker," you taunted, trying to get him to lighten up again. "I doubt he'll be bothering you again."

"I didn't know I could either."

"It was really impressive."

"Think so?" he said, turning to you with a smile.

"Definitely. You've become the hero of everyone who's been picked on by that douche."

Peter laughed, the sound giving you butterflies. You hadn't heard him laugh genuinely since freshman year. You felt your face heat up, but you tried to hide it.

The door to the principal's office opened and the secretary stepped out.

"Mr. Parker, come in. And you better get back to class, young lady," she scolded. You hid a smile as the two of you stood up.

"Good luck," you whispered.

"Thanks. I'll see you later."

You waved before leaving the office and heading back to class. The rest of the day was a drag as you were still reeling over the events of earlier. God, you wished he saw you the same way. You still smiled at the memory of making him laugh. You were so madly in love with him and watching him beat up your worst enemy earlier just fueled that fire.

That night, you went to MJ's house to study for finals. While she rambled about her excitement to move to the city after graduation, you kept thinking about Peter. He lived just next door to the Watsons. You remember coming here a few years ago and just wishing he would come visit. But he was always too shy to talk to MJ.

"I don't know about you, but I've had enough civics for a lifetime," she said, flopping onto her bed.

"Yeah, it's getting pretty late. I'm probably gonna head home."

"Aw," she whined with a pout, standing up to give you a hug. "I missed hanging out with you. Do you wanna come over Friday for a movie night?"

"Sounds fun," you said with a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow at school, MJ."

"Bye!" she called as you walked out the door. You pulled your coat close to you as you stepped into the sidewalk, but you were pushed to the ground by someone running into you.

"Oh, shoot. I'm so sorry. I-I didn't even see you there."

You looked up, fully prepared to go off on whoever knocked you down, but you gasped as your eyes landed on Peter Parker.

"Peter? What are you doing out so late?" you asked, holding your head.

"I could ask the same to you. Why were you out here?"

"I was leaving Mary Jane's. We were studying."

"Oh," he sighed. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to bump into you. I was just trying to make curfew."

Peter offered his hand and pulled you up. You were surprised by his strength, but then again, he knocked Flash Thompson on his ass less than twelve hours ago. Your head was pounding from your fall, and you winced as you got a little dizzy.

"Are you okay?" he said, steadying you by your shoulders. You nodded as your focus returned, noticing how close you were to him. The blush returned to your cheeks with a vengeance, and you stepped back to keep him from noticing.

"Can I get you something? A water? Painkillers? Anything?"

"Maybe some water," you said softly. Peter nodded and guided you towards his house. He sat you on the porch steps while he ran inside, returning with a water bottle. You thanked him and took a sip.

"So, did you get in trouble?" you asked, referring to your meeting in the office earlier.

"Oh, yeah," Peter said with a smile. "Two weeks of Saturday detention to end senior year."

"Well, that's not too bad."

"Nope. I'm pretty happy with it."

"MJ said Flash got the same for instigating it."

"What does she see in him anyway?" he blurted, as if he had been holding it in for years. You started laughing.

"I've been wondering the same thing. She could have any guy, and she chose him."

"Did you ever tell her that?" he asked.

"Heavens, no. I love MJ, but she's as stubborn as a dog. She'd never listen to me."

You pushed your hair back as you took another sip of water, feeling a little bit better. You heard Peter suck in a breath, making you turn to look at him.

"What's wrong?" you frowned.

"You have a bruise."

"I do? Is it bad?"

He reached over and moved your hair. The feeling of his fingers brushing up against your skin made your heart flutter. He shook his head, "It's pretty small. I'm sure you'll be fine."

You locked eyes, and you felt your heart rate triple. You had never been this close to him before. He was so beautiful.

On impulse, you leaned in and placed a quick kiss on his lips. Peter was shocked, staring at you with wide eyes and an open mouth. You shook your head, quickly going to stand up.

"Peter, I'm so sorry—."

He grabbed your wrist, spinning you back around. Peter pulled you into his arms and kissed you gently. You were taken back but melted into his embrace, draping your arms over his shoulders. You pulled back after a few seconds, breathless and in shock.

"I—I didn't think you liked me."

"I thought I made it pretty obvious," Peter responded with a grin.

"I thought you were in love with MJ. I always saw you looking at her—."

"I was looking at you."

You looked up at him with a smile. "You were?"

He nodded. "I was. I can't believe you didn't notice."

"I had a crush on you since freshman year," you confessed with a laugh. "But I was too scared to say anything."

"I did, too. But you were friends with all those people...I thought you were gonna reject me."

"I'm sorry I cut you out. I was just—."

"You don't have to apologize. I get it."

You smiled at him, quickly kissing him again. He just laughed and leaned his head against yours.

"I should probably be getting home. My parents are gonna flip."

Peter nodded, releasing you and stepping back. "I guess I'll see you at school tomorrow?"

You smiled, "I'll see you, Parker."

You gave him one last kiss goodbye before making the walk back home. It was hard to fight the smile on your lips and the blush on your cheeks as you walked. As soon as you got into your bedroom, you fell onto your bed and started laughing.

Through giggles, you muttered to yourself, "Oh boy, I'm in trouble."

#peter parker #tobey maguire #spiderman #spider man no way home #tobey!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #tobey!peter parker #tobey!spiderman #andrew!spiderman #tom holland #spiderman tobey maguire #imagine #oneshot

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

Text

One Misunderstanding

Bucky x Reader

Summary: You struggle to fix Bucky's first impression of you. Bucky struggles with his own feelings.

Warnings: angst, Hydra things- like brainwashing and torture, a few curse words, panic attacks, anxiety

Word count: 5609

a/n: this idea came to me very suddenly, but I'm in love with it. Hopefully whatever I just wrote does it justice.

Masterlist

"Everyone, meet Y/N. She's the newest member of our little group, bringing in a whole new level of hacking and tech skills. Y/N, meet the team." Tony introduced you to everyone, eager to share your skills.

You turned to the group, getting ready to introduce yourself further, but instead tripped. You shrieked as you fell down the small set of stairs you were at the top of.

Sam, being the closest, caught you. "Good thing you've got tech skills." He chuckled as you righted yourself, firmly planting your feet on the ground.

"Haha, yeah. I'm not a big fan of violence." You winced as you said it, wishing you could take it back. You didn't want to get into the reasons as to why you don't like violence.

To your surprise, nobody asked why. You would have guessed they would have questions, but maybe they weren't interested in your past. They all had their own issues to deal with afterall.

"Eh, we don't need anymore people for fighting anyway. Welcome to the team." Steve greeted you warmly, as you would have expected from America's golden boy.

You gratefully shook his hand, glad to not have to talk about anything yet. Unfortunately, you tripped again when you tried to move back, falling into the one and only Bucky Barnes.

His hands steadied you, dryly laughing at your clumsiness. "You really are clumsy."

You did you best to not show how embarrassed you were. You couldn't deny the claim. Unless you were fighting, something you vowed to yourself to never do again, you were clumsy.

Being abducted and tortured by Hydra may have made you a competent fighter, but your aptitude for tripping over nothing never left.

"Right, sorry!" You greeted everyone else quickly, eager to get situated in your room. "I'm just going to unpack everything." You waved as you backed out of the room, bumping into the wall as you left.

You had just finished putting away your stuff when you heard a knock on your door.

"Come in!" You figured someone would have questions for you.

Unsurprisingly, Natasha was the one to step into your room. Of everyone there, you expected her to have learned about your past. It comes with the territory of being a spy.

"Hi, I was hoping to talk to you." Her tone was friendly, but clearly she was skeptical of you. Again, you weren't surprised.

"I thought you might. I'm assuming you read my file? Honestly, I thought everyone would." You laughed gently, shaking your head at yourself.

"I did. Your file is pretty bare bones though. I did some extra digging... Not everyone else is as nosy as me." She grinned, already pleased with your openness. "So, why'd you pretend to be clumsy?"

"Oh, it wasn't pretend. I've always been clumsy. When everything happened, and I learned how to fight, I thought my newfound agility would help. Turns out, it didn't. The only times I'm even the slightest bit coordinated are when I'm fighting or training, but I wasn't lying about that either. When I escaped, I promised myself I wouldn't hurt anyone else."

"Why join the Avengers at all then?" She looked curious, still unsure if she could trust you.

"I wanted to help people. I just didn't want to use the skills they gave me to do it. So, I learned how to code, figured I could help behind the scenes."

She smiled, letting down her guard. Clearly it would take some time, but you could easily see the two of you being close friends.

"So, nobody knows about what you went through?" She couldn't help but be curious about your past.

"Nope. I don't talk about it much, but it's not a secret. I'll answer anything you want to know." You smiled, eager to try and make a real friend here.

You spent the next few hours answering every question Natasha could think of. You told her about being abducted and experimented on.

That lead to even more questions, basically boiling down to the fact that you're not a super soldier, but you do have enhanced senses- and seemingly enhanced clumsiness for when you're not using them.

You told her about learning how to fight, and the punishments you would endure if you got it wrong. The two of you bonded over the shared experience.

Finally, you told her about how you escaped. When the Winter Soldier escaped, every Hydra effort possible was made to find him. That included you. Resources were spread thin, trying to cover more areas. It was the perfect opportunity for you to get out.

"Really, I owe my freedom to him. Even if he doesn't know anything about me." You felt the tears in your eyes, too many emotions swirling through you to keep it all in anymore. "Since then, I've learned everything I could about technology and coding, which pretty much brings you up to date."

Before she could ask anymore questions, there was another knock on your door. Quickly wiping the tears from your eyes, you called another "come in!"

Steve poked his head in the door, cautiously looking between you and Nat.

"I've been sent to stop the interrogation." He grinned, stepping farther into the room.

Nat rose from her spot on the bed, kissing him on the cheek while rolling her eyes. "It wasn't an interrogation. We were bonding."

"Yeah, over what?" He chuckled, trying to figure out what the two of you had in common.

Maybe it was the look in your eyes, or maybe Nat just likes knowing more than everyone, but she smiled conspiratorially at you before responding. "Girl stuff, babe. Just girl stuff."

You smiled as the couple left the room, grateful for not having to explain everything again.

Over the next few weeks, the team constantly teased you for your clumsiness. Well, not the whole team. Nat knew the truth, so she never said anything. Peter never teased you either, although that is likely due to the teasing he endures as well.

Weirdly enough, you bonded with the kid over it, eventually telling him about your past as well.

Normally you could shake it off. They clearly didn't mean anything by it. Except Bucky.

Whenever he said anything, he stared you down. His eyes felt like they were piercing your soul. You're not sure exactly why, but he didn't seem to like you much.

Which wouldn't be an issue if you didn't have an embarrassing crush on the man.

Really your infatuation started when you first escaped Hydra. His own escape lead to your freedom, so you admired him. When you found out he was working with the Avengers to help people, you admired him even more.

Watching him on missions is really what caused the infatuation to blossom into a full blown crush.

You, however, would adamantly deny that if anyone ever asked. Which is what just happened.

"What?!" You nearly tripped, again, with how quickly you turned to look at Wanda and Nat.

"You heard me." Nat stared at you, a neutral expression on her face. "When are you going to do something about your crush on Barnes."

"I, I don't- I don't have a crush on Bucky." You stuttered, a lackluster job at denying the truth.

"Please, Y/N. It's so obvious!" Wanda joined in.

The three of you hung out a lot around the compound. It was nice to have a support system to lean on when things got hard.

"Well, even if I did, which I'm not saying I do! He doesn't like me. I don't know what I did, but his eyes feel like daggers whenever we're in the same room." You started out strong, but quickly morphed into a sad resignation. It genuinely upset you that Bucky didn't like you.

"I think I might know what that's about..." Wanda bit her lip, immediately feeling guilty at having said anything.

"What!?" You eagerly turned to her, needing answers. You shuffled your way across the room, never fully rising from your seat on the ground.

"I don't know if I should tell you! I'm not even supposed to know, but sometimes his thoughts are really loud!" Her guilt multiplied.

"You have to tell me now! Then I can fix it!" You were practically begging at her feet from your position on the floor.

She looked at Nat, who just shrugged in return. "Not my place, although I would love to hear it."

"Ugh, fine. But you can't tell anyone I told you!" Wanda glared at the two of you, unable to say no to your pouting face. "The first day we all met you, do you remember what you said?"

Your face scrunched as you tried to remember. "I'm not a big fan of violence?"

She nodded, looking at you as if she just told you everything.

"So?" You asked incredulously, unable to follow her train of thought.

She rolled her eyes, having to spell it out for you. "He kind of took that personally..."

Immediately, you sunk completely to the floor. "Oh, god. Fuck! That's not what I meant at all! I just meant I don't personally like using violence! Shit, shit, shit." You continued to mutter to yourself as Nat and Wanda shared a look.

"Why don't you like using violence?" Wanda asked, intrigued by your reaction.

You thought back to your conversation with Nat the first day you got here. You told her it wasn't a secret, it just wasn't something you brought up.

"Can you just look in my head? I don't really wanna explain it, but I want you to know." You asked, glad to share you past with another friend.

Wanda nodded, seemingly doing nothing until realization dawned on her.

"Oh shit." She whispered, not even realizing she said it out loud.

"Yeah." You huffed out a dry laugh.

"Y/N... I'm so sorry." You smiled at her, having worked through most of the trauma already. "You totally have a crush on Barnes though."

That earned a real laugh. "Hey, that's not what you were in there for!"

"It's not my fault! You were thinking it really loudly!"

The three of you laughed together until you sunk back into a pit of despair.

"What do I do? How do I fix this?" You whined, laying back on the ground like a child.

"I think you just need to talk to him. Explain what you meant." Wanda shrugged, unsure of any other advice to offer you.

"She's right. Just talk to him." Nat nodded along as you whined on the floor.

After a few days, you finally worked up enough courage to try and talk to Bucky. He had just finished training, so you knew exactly where he'd be: in the kitchen.

Walking in, you were glad to see him pulling ingredients from the fridge.

"Hey Bucky, can I, um, talk to you for a minute?" You stuttered through the words, nervous about what he would say.

He barely looked at you, nodding his head for you to continue.

"I just, I wanted to apologize." You trailed off when his head snapped up.

"For what?" Well shit. How are you supposed to explain this one without ratting out Wanda.

"Oh, well, um... I just thought maybe I said- I did something that upset you. Uh, you just don't seem to like me very much, which is totally cool, you don't have to like me if you don't want to. I just didn't want it to be my fault... Fuck." That went horribly. Taking a deep breath, you started over. "I didn't mean it."

Bucky is looking at you like you have three heads. "Didn't mean what?"

"That I don't like violence."

"So you do... like violence." He'd somehow grown more confused.

"Well, no." You paused, unsure of how to explain yourself.

"Then you did mean it." His soul piercing stare is back.

"I-"

"It's fine, save it. Some people get to choose not to be violent." And with that, he left the kitchen, abandoning his post workout smoothie.

You stared at the doorway, in shock over how poorly that went. You stood there , unaware of the 25 minutes that had passed, trying to figure out how it could've gone better when Steve found you.

"Y/N? What are you doing?"

You didn't hear him, too lost in the memories. Memories of Hydra, forcing you to do things you never wanted to. This happened from time to time if something triggered you into remembering, otherwise you had a handle on your emotions.

"Y/N?" Steve said your name again, concern evident in his voice. He gently laid a hand on your shoulder, trying to get your attention.

Everything happened so fast after that. The feeling of someone's hand on your shoulder caused you to panic. With all the memories of Hydra in your head, your training kicked in instinctually.

You grabbed Steve's arm, pulling him closer to you for better leverage. Before he could question your moves, you flipped him, pinning him to the ground.

The second you made eye contact, you realized what just happened. Horror and regret flashed in your eyes.

In an effort to get off him, you threw yourself backward, knocking into a cart full of pots and pans. The clanging of metal hitting the ground echoed through the small room.

Steve sat up slowly, trying to register the turn of events. You sat in a ball on the floor, tears pooling in your eyes, mumbling apologies over and over again.

Sam, having heard the commotion from the pots and pans, ran into the kitchen ready to fight.

"What- What happened?" He asked in confusion, lowering his arms from their defensive position.

"I don't know." Steve looked at you, still trying to figure it out.

"Y/N?" Sam's voice was gentle, but it still startled you.

You jumped from the ground, rushing to help Steve get up. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to. I never wanted to hurt anyone again." Your breathing was picking up, short bursts of air leaving your lungs. Your hands were shaking as you pulled him from the ground.

Your panic increased as you took in their concerned expressions.

"Hey, look at me." Steve's Captain voice, came out, urging you to make eye contact. You followed orders, breathing rapidly, your whole body shaking.

"I'm going to touch you now, is that okay?" His words were gentle, but commanding, causing you to nod in response.

He pulled you into a tight hug, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You wanted to explain, to tell them what happened, but all that came out was a pitiful "Bucky".

"Do you want me to get Bucky?" Sam asked, trying to understand you.

The idea of Bucky coming back caused your panic to increase. You shook your head rapidly, "No! No no no no no." You kept repeating the word, shaking in Steve's arms.

"Okay! Okay, no Bucky." Sam reassured you, voice calm and soothing.

You’re not sure how long you stood like that. Sam moved around the kitchen, cleaning up the pots and pans you had knocked over.

When your breathing steadied, Steve asked, "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

You nodded, leading the two men to the couch in the adjacent common area. You sat for a minute, unsure of where to start.

"Why don't you just lead us through it all?" Steve suggested, still rubbing your back.

You nodded, grateful for the starting point. "I went to the kitchen to apologize to Bucky."

"What for?" Sam interrupted, already confused.

"Sam! Just let her talk." Steve muttered, slightly annoyed.

"Sorry!" He glared back at Steve before turning to you, "Sorry, please continue."

You couldn't help but laugh at their banter.

"Right, I wanted to apologize for what I said the first day I met you all. I realized how it sounded, so I wanted to try and fix it." You paused, waiting for the recognition to hit them.

It didn't take long. The two men nodded, silently urging you to continue.

"Honestly, Wanda told me that was why he always seems mad at me. You have to know, I never meant for it to come across that way! It's more of a personal, 'I don't want to be violent' than shunning others for doing what's necessary." You took a deep breath, not eager to relive the conversation.

"Anyway, I told him I didn't mean it. I just couldn't explain it right, and he got upset, which makes sense!" You turned to look between them, not wanting them to think you were insulting Bucky in any way. "I don't hold what he did against him. It wasn't his choice, and I completely understand that. I just couldn't put that into words when I was talking to him, and I made everything worse."

Tears popped into your eyes again, upset at what he must be going through. You weren't with Hydra for but a tenth of the time he was, and you didn't endure the same level of brainwashing.

"He said something about some people not being able to choose not to be violent, and then he left. I don't know how long I was standing in the kitchen replaying the conversation, but it brought up bad memories for me." You sighed again, working up the nerve to tell them everything.

"Wanda and Nat already know, but I guess it's your guys's turn. This was so much easier to just have Wanda read my mind." You laughed at your own joke, the two men sharing a concerned look.

"I was taken... by Hydra. They experimented on me, gave me enhanced senses, trained me to fight, and punished me when I did something wrong." Again, tears sprung into your eyes, occasionally falling down your cheeks.

"Why wasn't this in your file?" Steve questioned, more to himself than you.

"I haven't got a clue. I guess nobody knew about me? But, I escaped. They didn't brainwash me like they did Bucky, because I don't have the serum. Or, at least, I think that's why." You shook your head, refocusing on the important parts.

"When every available Hydra agent was tasked with searching for the Winter Soldier, I took it as on opportunity. Their resources were spread thin. I was able to getaway."

You went onto explain your reasoning for joining the Avengers as a tech specialist, trying to convey the same earnestness you did with Nat.

"You can ask Nat or Wanda too. Nat found out day one, Wanda a few days ago." You wiped your tears, hoping they believed you. "Actually, Peter knows too."

"I was stuck in all those memories when you came into the kitchen. I didn't even register that you were in the room, so when you touched me I freaked out. I never meant to hurt you!"

You looked at Steve fearful that he would be upset.

"Y/N, I believe you." You cried tears of relief at his statement, genuinely exhausted from the day. "It's not your fault, and you didn't hurt me. Just caught me off guard. You're surprisingly agile when you want to be." He tried to lighten the mood, glad to hear you laugh.

"Well, I train in the middle of the night sometimes. I- I want to be able to get out if I'm ever forced back there." Your voice was quiet, admitting a secret you hadn't even told Nat.

"We won't let that happen." The sternness of Sam's voice surprised you.

"Thank you." You wiped your tears a final time, looking between the two men. "Now, what do I do about Bucky?" You refocused your energy on fixing your relationship with the super soldier.

"He never would have said what he said if he had known." Steve started the conversation, defending his friend.

"I know. I don't hold it against him, I just wish I could explain. I get so nervous when he looks at me like that." You rambled, too tired to filter your thoughts.

"Like what?" Sam asked, eager for more information to tease Bucky with.

"Huh? Oh, I don't know. Like he can see into my soul." You deadpanned, earning a laugh from both men. "I just want him to like me." You nearly whined, upset by your poor relationship.

"Like you, huh?" Steve grinned. Nat and Wanda chose that exact moment to walk into the room, eagerly joining the conversation.

"Barnes? Did you tell him how you feel?" Wanda squealed with excitement.

You buried your head in your hands, avoiding the knowing looks the four of them were surely sharing. "Not exactly." You gestured to your head, hoping Wanda would figure it out and share with Nat.

"Ooh... It didn't go well, basically Barnes got upset, Y/N flipped Steve and had a panic attack, then told these two everything." Wanda explained to Nat quickly, trying not to make you relive it.

"We need a plan." Nat declared.

"No, I just need to learn how to have a conversation with the man." You rolled your eyes at yourself. "I'll try talking to him again." You went to leave the room, turning around to glare at them. "And none of you can say a word of this to Bucky."

Despite you request, Steve still tried to talk to Bucky.

"What's up with you?" Steve questioned, trying to subtly pry into Bucky's thoughts.

"Nothing. Why?" Bucky answered in a questioning tone, trying to figure out Steve's motives.

"I heard you talked to Y/N is all. How'd it go?" He gave up on the subtle approach pretty quickly, knowing Bucky wouldn't answer a question that wasn't asked.

"How did you even hear that, punk?" Bucky deflected.

"Not the point. Answer the question."

"Not great. I messed it up." Bucky sighed, annoyed at himself for barging out of the room. "She said wanted to apologize, that she didn't mean what she said." He ran his hands through his hair, struggling to explain where it all went wrong.

"Would've been fine if I could follow what she was saying. She was rambling about me not liking her, which you and I both know isn't true. Ugh, i've never been mad at her. I'm mad at myself! At Hydra for making me a monster! How could she ever like me if she doesn't like violence? My entire past is violent." He huffed, having worked himself up again.

"You're not a monster, Buck." Steve started gently.

"I know you think that." Steve gave him a pointed glare. "I know, okay? But what does she think?"

"Maybe you should try talking to her. You might be surprised by what you learn." Steve clapped him on the shoulder, trying to reassure him, before leaving the room.

Everytime you tried to talk to Bucky, something got in the way. The first time, he was called in for an emergency mission before you even got the word hello out.

The second time, Tony walked into the common area, completely oblivious to the tension, and put on a movie.

The third time, Steve and Nat interrupted you. You were just about to apologize again after an awkward greeting when the elevator doors opened. The sounds of the cheerful laughter and stolen kisses didn't really set the mood for confessing your past with Hydra.

The fourth, and final time, was the most embarrassing.

You walked into the room on a mission. You were going to talk to him, no matter who decided to walk in.

"Bucky, I really need to-" and you tripped on a toy Morgan left out, causing you to tumble to the ground. That would have been embarrassing enough, but there's more.

In your effort to get up, you tripped again, hitting your head on the coffee table, causing you to bleed profusely.

"Shit." You cursed yourself, holding your hand up to your bleeding forehead.

"Are you okay?" Bucky rushed to you from the other side of the table, concerned with the amount of blood spewing from your head.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Unfortunately, you chose that moment to jokingly reference your past.

Some of the people who tortured you had a sick sense of humor. Whenever they would hit you hard enough to make you bleed, they said something about only having one head. A play on words because of the greek serpent with multiple heads.

"Head wounds bleed a lot, I'm lucky I only have one." You froze instantly, unsure if he would have had a similar experience. Slowly, you looked up in an effort to make eye contact.

Bucky was also frozen in place. Clearly he understood the reference.

"Wh- where did you hear that?" Bucky struggled with his sentence, trying not to flashback to his time at Hydra.

"Oh my god. I'm so so sorry." You instantly started apologizing, trying to backtrack. "I really need to learn when to stop fucking talking." You said more to yourself than him.

"Where did you hear it?" He asked again, putting more power behind his words.

"Um, well, i've been trying to tell you for weeks now, but um, I also kind of, have, um, well, you see-"

"Just spit it out." There was the slightly miffed Bucky you were used to.

"I was taken. By Hydra. 9 years ago. Um, they forced me to learn how to fight. Tortured me if I did anything wrong. Forced me to do things..." You trailed off, realizing you didn't need to give him many details. He has first hand experience.

"Y/N, I-" You cut him off before he could say anything else.

"That's why I don't like using violence. I only know how to do that stuff because they made me learn it. I didn't want to use the skills they gave me." You took a deep, grounding breath.

"I don't blame you for anything you were forced to do. It wasn't your choice. You're not a violent person, and your past actions don't define who you are. You're here to help people. That's what you chose. That's who you are."

You made eye contact before you continued. "I've actually wanted to thank you for the longest time."

"For what?" He was incredulous, wildly caught off guard by everything you've said.

"The only reason I had an opportunity to escape was because 2 years ago, you escaped. If Hydra's resources hadn't been spread so thin trying to find you, I probably would've never got out. So thank you. For being strong enough to fight back."

You smiled at him, still unsure of how he was feeling.

"I... I'm so sorry." To say you were stunned was an understatement. What the hell could he have to be sorry about? Sure he was a little rude, but from your point of view he was completely justified in hating you.

"Bucky, you have no reason to be sorry. You didn't know, and I couldn't get out of my head enough to tell you. You just make me nervous." You clapped a hand over your mouth, shocked at having said what you just said.

You could see his face fall ever so slightly, causing you to jump back into your explanation.

"Not because I'm scared of you or anything! Hell, I could probably take you in a fight." You winked, trying to lighten the mood. It seemed to work, judging by the slight smirk on his face.

"I just, I've looked up to you for so long. Your determination to do good after everything you've been through is really inspiring. It's actually why I wanted to join the Avengers in the first place. I never would have-" You would have kept rambling if he hadn't stopped you.

"Y/N, I am sorry, and I do have reason to be. There's no excuse for what I said to you in the kitchen that day. Even if I didn't know, I threw everything you've been through back in your face. If someone had done that to me, I probably would have had a panic attack." He tried joking, but by the way you froze he could tell he struck a nerve.

"You had a panic attack? I'm so sorry! God, I just left you all alone and-"

It was your turn to cut him off. "Actually, I was kind of frozen in place until Steve touched me and I maybe threw him to the ground... Then I had a panic attack..." You smiled, trying to convey the joke. "So, I wasn't alone. Sam was actually also there. If anything, it made me better friends with both of them because I told them everything. So I have you to thank for that to." You playfully nudged his side.

He ran his hands through his hair, then down his face, clearly trying to deal with his own guilt.

"Hey, don't beat yourself up about it. You didn't know. It happened. We're good now, so we can move on." You smiled, trying to cheer him up.

"How are you so relaxed about all of this? You were tortured for years... I..." He was genuinely curious, trying to find a way to cope with his own pain.

"Well, even before that I always thought therapy could be helpful for me, so I really jumped in full force when I was free. Plus, if you can't joke about something, you haven't really moved on. Some days are harder than others, but I just try to appreciate the people I have now and the good experiences I've been lead to." You kept the tone light, trying not to get too emotional.

He just stared at you for a few minutes, making you questions everything.

"I mean, it's totally different for you though! I was only there for 7 years, you were forced into all that for like 10 times as long. I didn't mean to belittle-"

"I think you inspire me just as much as you say I've inspired you." He cut you off again, a small smile growing on your lips.

"Well, in the spirit of our newfound friendship, can I be totally honest?" You bit your lip, nervous about telling him the truth.

He looked nervous as well, but nodded anyway.

"I kind of, maybe, sort of have a crush on you." You watched his expression carefully, although there was really no need. His face easily gave away his surprise.

"You..." He stuttered, moving his fingers between the two of you. "Me? But, I was so mean!"

"What can I say, I saw through the facade... Well, really Wanda accidentally read your mind and told me why you were so upset around me when her and Nat teamed up to get me to tell you how I feel." You rambled again, realization dawning that you accidentally outed Wanda.

"But you can't tell her I told you that! She didn't mean to! She just said you think really loud sometimes and it's hard not to hear it! She did it to me too actually, I mean I told her she could look in my head so I wouldn't have to explain everything again, I know so lazy, and that's how she confirmed my crush on you." You said it all with wide eyes at a rapid speed, unable to control yourself around Bucky.

You slapped your hands over your mouth, forcing yourself to stop talking. Bucky looked on in amusement, slowly reaching to pull your hands away from your face.

"I won't tell her, if you get dinner with me tonight." He smiled cheekily, relishing in your blush.

"That's a deal I'm willing to make." You reached your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek before running to get ready.

***

Bonus:

Sam whined playfully as he looked at the high scores. "Whose username is 'God is a spoon' and how did they get so good at this game?"

He looked around the room, eying any suspicious candidates. Everyone denied it, throwing out accusations left and right.

It was another of Tony's team bonding nights and he chose VR games on the oculus. Obviously, Beat Saber was a top contender amongst the group.

You walked in with Bucky, unaware of the conversation going on, but immediately joining it.

"Peter! I bet it was him!" You playfully nudged the younger Avenger, having formed a close friendship in the early days. "What am I betting on?" Everyone laughed, happy to see you in a good mood after being so stressed for so long.

"Whose username is 'God is a spoon'." Sam chuckled after filling you in. You and Bucky settled on the couch, cuddling next to each other.

"Oh, that's me. Why?" You looked around curiously, trying to figure out what they wanted. "Is it a weird username? It was actually one of the catchphrase things in Just Dance on the switch, I didn't just think of it." You tried to justify yourself, causing more laughter.

"You?! How did you get all the highscores on this game? I thought you were the clumsy one."

You made an exaggerated face to show how offended you were, playfully swatting at Sam.

"I'll have you know, 7 years of Hydra 'training' and experimentation has its perks." You joked with the room. "One of them being I can beat your ass at pretty much any video game."

"Oh, you're so on." Sam smiled, glad he could joke around with you about it.

Meanwhile, Tony looked incredulously around the room, being the only one in the room who hadn't heard about your history, he was rightfully confused.

"I'm sorry, 7 years of WHAT?"

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #natasha romanoff #captain america #tony stark #peter parker #sam wilson #bucky barnes #marvel fic #tw: panic attack #steve rogers x natasha romanoff

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littlelovelyspiderling · 3 years

Text

Interrogation

sometimes i don't write for a year, sometimes i bang out an almost 9,000 word story in 3 days...life's funny heehee

After the battle in Germany, Captain America kidnaps Spider-Man in response to Tony capturing his teammates. He, Bucky, and Antman try to get the kid to tell them where Stark has taken their friends. All attempts turn up fruitless, until Scott propose a new tactic—one that might just be silly enough to work.

word count: 8,896

__________________________

It happened too fast for him to react, too suddenly for him to stop it. One minute, he was getting whacked out of the sky by that giant dude’s hand and crashing to the ground in a very ungraceful heap. Seconds later, as he fought to blink the stars from his eyes, his weird sixth sense thing went haywire, and a cold sting pricked the back of his neck. Peter glanced up just in time to see Captain America standing over him with a tranquilizer gun in his hand and a grim look on his face.

“W-what—?” he stammered, bringing a hand to his nape in horror. The world began to run together like watercolors.

“Sorry, Queens,” Cap said.

Shit, Spider-Man thought as his vision tunneled to black. There go my chances of impressing Mr. Stark.

The last sensation he felt before conking out was two powerful hands hoisting him off the ground.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You kidnapped Stark’s weird little red friend?”

Steve let out a sigh as he secured the last of their hostage’s restraints. The kid could hold a multi-ton jet bridge over his head and still carry a conversation; he was obviously incredibly strong, and none of them knew what exactly he was capable of, what other powers he might have up his sleeve. They couldn’t risk him breaking free and wreaking havoc on their ship.

“Tony’s people captured Sam, Wanda, and Clint. We need some leverage if we’re going to get them back. Plus, the kid might know where they were taken.”

Antman grimaced, glancing between Captain America and their unconscious captive. “Okay. I get that. I really do. But...I don’t know, man. Tony Stark’s already so pissed off at all of us. I just feel like this is going to make everything a hundred times worse.”

“He takes my people, I’m taking one of his,” Steve said coldly. “Simple as that. It’s not like we’re going to hurt the kid. We just need him to tell us where Stark stashed our teammates.”

“And if he refuses?” Bucky prodded. He stood in the gap between the cockpit and the cabin, arms crossed, face stony. “Then what do we do?”

Before Cap could answer, a low moan rose from their prisoner. All eyes snapped toward the kid as his head rolled to the side, then slowly lifted upright. The eye lenses on his mask racked into focus as he gradually came to.

“Mmm...ugh…” he murmured, blinking. “Ow...w-what the…?” He tried to lift his arms, but his bonds stopped him from doing so. The kid looked down groggily to find his hands and feet shackled to the chair he was propped up in. He also had a belt holding his chest to the backrest, metal bands restraining his biceps, and a chain around the tops of his legs. He squirmed and shifted, realizing he was trapped, his movements and breathing growing more and more frantic.

“The hell?” he slurred.

“Well that didn’t take long.”

The boy’s eyes shot up and met three other pairs staring back. Captain America, the Winter Soldier, and some other guy he recognized as the gigantic man from the airport. The trio stood before him, still bruised and bloody from their recent fight. Huge dude (now regular sized) was nibbling on an orange slice while the Winter Soldier tugged at some webbing still caught in his hair. Peter gasped.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, huffing out an incredulous laugh. “It’s—it’s you guys. Again. Holy shit.” He shifted some more, gaze returning to his fettered limbs, voice shrill and disoriented. “Wait...what’s going on? Why am I restrained?”

“Calm down, kid,” Cap said. He extended his hand, expression steely. “Just take a breath.”

Their captive blinked. It was almost freaky how well the lenses on his mask imitated real eye movements. He observed the room they were in: the cabin of a stolen ship, empty except for him and three of the Avengers he’d just battled against. A pile of weapons stacked in the corner, including his web-shooters and the tranquilizer gun Cap had tagged him with. A window to his right displayed the endless sea of blue they were flying over. A metallic taste coated Peter’s tongue.

“Oh my god,” he said. “Did you guys…kidnap me? Captain America kidnapped me?” The idea was as ludicrous as it was terrifying.

“Your pal Stark captured three of our friends,” the Winter Soldier explained with a shrug, “so, in retaliation, we captured you. Nothing personal, kid—just business.”

“Oh my god,” the boy repeated, this time with actual fear in his voice. “You—oh my god.” He struggled against his bonds, grunting with effort, but the metal clasps wouldn’t budge. “W-where are you taking me? What are you going to do to me? Is this because I stole your shield? Or ‘cuz I kicked you in the face, like, super hard? Or ‘cuz I webbed up metal-armed man and that flying guy? Or—”

“Like I said,” Bucky interrupted him curtly. “Not. Personal.”

The metal chair he was in was bolted to the floor, and every part of him was strapped down like he was some kind of psycho asylum patient. As scary as all this was, it was also super inconvenient. Peter dropped his head against the backrest with a groan. “Shit. Mr. Stark is gonna kill me. Unless May gets to me first. Or you guys, I guess. Or my chemistry teacher. I—oh god, I have a test tomorrow! Son of a…”

Cap and Barnes exchanged a look full of question marks. Lang quirked an eyebrow.

“Where’d Stark find this kid? Chuck E. Cheese?”

The boy tilted his chin toward the ceiling. “Um, no. It was in a McDonald’s PlayPlace, actually. Show some respect.”

Scott tried and failed to stifle a snort. A beat passed before Steve scoffed.

“Are you making jokes right now?”

The kid blinked as if he was only now processing the words that had just left his mouth. Then he hunched his shoulders skittishly. “Sorry. I talk a lot when I’m nervous. And crack inappropriately timed jokes. Like, even more so than I normally do. Which is already a lot. Phew. I’m, like, really stressed right now. Can you tell?”

Cap took a step toward their hostage and knelt down to his eye level. “Relax, Queens. We aren’t going to hurt you.”

“As long as you answer our questions,” Bucky added.

Steve glared at him over his shoulder. “Buck.”

“What? I’m just being honest.”

Cap huffed irritably. Peter swallowed, staring between the three men.

“I’m sorry, is this…? An interrogation?”

Barnes and Rogers shared a glance. Antman sucked on his orange slice anxiously.

“Oh,” the kid replied, puffing out his cheeks. “Uh…shit, heh. I mean, I figured this would happen eventually. You know, after I took on the superheroing gig, started making some enemies. But I always thought it’d be some Russian crime boss or samurai clan leader interrogating me. Not, you know, the Avenger I dressed up as for Halloween six years ago.”

“Wow,” Antman chuckled. “You really weren’t kidding about the over-talking thing, huh?”

Peter licked his lips and forced a shy laugh. “Y-yeah. Sorry, this—this is just not at all how today was supposed to go.”

Cap nudged the boy’s knee with his fist. “What’s your name, kid?”

He lifted his gaze to the legendary super soldier, trying his best not to ogle. Even if they were on opposite sides for the time being (not to mention his plan to drill him for intel), it wasn’t like Peter had just stopped being a fan. He’d had Captain America bed sheets from the third through the sixth grade. His favorite water bottle was plastered with Cap stickers, and his closet was packed with the Avenger’s old comic books. Despite their current state of diametric opposition, it was hard not to act giddy in the presence of one his biggest idols. Peter scratched at the armrests his wrists were shackled to.

“Spider-Man?” he said, except it sounded more like a question than an answer. “I’m a newer hero. Not, like, new new. But, you know. New-ish.”

The corners of Steve’s mouth tweaked into a tentative smile. “Nice to officially meet you, Spider-Man. I’m Steve.”

Spider-Man released a slow, shaky breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Hi. I know I said it before, but—I really am a big fan of yours. I’m sorry for kicking you in the face. Your face was actually my phone’s lock screen for a good chunk of 2014.” He lowered his gaze and wilted a little. “I wish this wasn’t how our first real introduction had to go.”

“Me too,” Cap agreed solemnly. He rose to his feet, suddenly making Peter feel very small. “Our quarrel isn’t with you, Spider-Man. You’ll be free to go once you answer our questions. Okay?”

The kid shifted in his seat, his shackled feet dangling just about the floor. His eyes kept drifting back to Bucky, who was leering at him like he could read his thoughts if he focused hard enough. Cap crossed his arms against his chest.

“Where did Tony take our teammates?”

Silence. Steve waited, praying for the kid to speak up. Spider-Man’s fingers curled around the ends of the armrests.

“I…um…I can’t tell you that.”

More silence. Cap felt his heart begin to sink. The Winter Soldier stepped towards Spider-Man.

“So then you know where they are?”

The kid stared up at him, then shook his head. “I didn’t say that.”

Bucky closed the gap between them and clamped his hands on top of Peter’s, glaring straight into their captive’s wide eye lenses. “Tell us where Stark took them. Now.”

Mr. Stark had warned him about the chilling deadliness of the infamous Winter Soldier. A man who had forgotten more ways to kill than most could ever learn in one lifetime. Before the fight, Peter had been ordered to avoid direct confrontation with the murderous super-soldier at all costs.

Had he listened? Not exactly. Still, he’d managed to make it out in one piece.

Now, spotting the stray strands of webbing still clinging to the man’s eyebrows, he really wished he’d followed Stark’s advice.

But he was going to make it up to him. Because Spider-Man wasn’t backing down.

“First of all, breath mints. Please, for everyone’s sake, invest in a tin. Or twelve.” Peter leaned toward the Winter Soldier as far as his restraints would allow, their noses inches apart. “Second of all, no.”

Spider-Man waited, stunned by his own audacity, his blood practically buzzing in his veins. The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitched.

“Do you know how many people I’ve tortured, Spider-Man? How many times I’ve wrung classified intelligence from the throats of hardened soldiers? How many wills I’ve broken? The resolves I’ve cracked?” With every word spoken, the Winter Soldier’s grip on his wrists tightened, digging deeper and deeper into his flesh. “Not to mention, the number of bones.”

Sweat was gathering behind Peter’s knees. He tried to keep his breathing even, but the pain in his hands was reaching a startling intensity. Before he could stop himself, he winced back and shut his eyes, cursing the small whimper that escaped his throat.

“Stop it, Buck,” Steve snapped, yanking his friend away from the kid. Once his iron grip was broken, Peter unclenched his fingers from the armrests and heaved a shivery breath. Bucky shrugged Cap’s hand off his shoulder sourly.

“Relax. I wasn’t actually going to hurt him. I just wanted to see if I could scare a quick answer out of him.” He flashed a grin in Peter’s direction. “You’ve got balls, kid. On a scale of one to ten, how terrified were you just now?”

Spider-Man flexed his hands and exhaled forcefully. “Probably around eight thousand.”

Despite how pressing their current situation was, Steve couldn’t help but chuckle. He placed a hand on his hip and tilted his head to the side. “Are you really going to make us force you to answer our questions, kid? ‘Cuz I don’t think any of us want to go through with that. If you tell me where my friends are right now, I’ll have you boarded on the escape cruiser headed back to New York in the next five minutes. I promise.”

Peter sucked his lips to his teeth. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was. He liked Cap, and of course he wanted to reunite him with his superhero friends, even if they were currently considered war criminals. But Mr. Stark had insisted they were a threat that needed to be contained. Not permanently—just until he could come to an agreement with some big wigs in the UN that didn’t involve kill squads gunning down Cap’s crew on sight. By not telling them where the rest of their team was, not only was he keeping his word to Mr. Stark. Spider-Man may have actually been saving all of their lives.

This whole situation would be a lot less complicated if he didn’t know where Wanda, Clint, and Sam had been taken. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.

“But where will they go after we’ve captured them?” his past self had inquired. “They’re not—I mean, we’re not sending them to prison, are we?”

“The Raft isn’t prison,” Stark had assured him. “Just a holding facility that can keep people with powers contained. Once we’re able to hash all this out, they’ll be released. I promise.”

Hearing that then had made him breathe a sigh of relief. Remembering it now made his stomach queasy.

Why did he always have to ask so many goddamn questions?

Peter sighed, dropping his gaze to the floor, then slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry, Cap. I wish I could—honestly. But I can’t.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly exasperated. “What can I offer you to get you to talk? What do you want? To go home? To be back with Stark? What?”

The kid brightened. “Ooh! Could I get a picture with all of you doing superhero poses? One group photo, then with each of you individually?”

Cap snorted in spite of his efforts not to. Bucky and Lang followed suit. “Would you seriously tell us where our friends are in exchange for that?”

“No. But it would make my inner child scream with joy for all eternity. So. There’s that.”

Scott laughed into his hand while the Winter Soldier groaned. “Can we go back to my method now? Snapping his fingers off ‘til he starts giving us some answers?”

Steve stepped in front of Spider-Man with his hands curled into fists. “I know you like cracking jokes, kid. But this situation is no laughing matter. Our friends could be in danger. We have to protect them. And to do that, we need to know where they are.”

Sobering up, Peter shook his head. “They’re not in danger. I can tell you that much.”

A hand was suddenly pressed against his hairline and grabbing hold of his mask. “Tell me where Stark’s taken them, or the mask comes off.”

Steve felt the young hero stiffen. Keeping his identity a secret was clearly very important to him. Surely the threat of exposing the truth would be enough to make him speak. When the kid didn’t answer right away, he began lifting the mask upwards, peeling it away bit by bit. Spider-Man's breath quickened, but he didn’t protest.

“Last chance,” he warned him. The boy’s mouth, now visible, clamped shut adamantly. Hissing through his teeth, Steve yanked the mask fully off his head.

“Wait—” Peter croaked, but it was too late. Spider-Man was gone, replaced instead by two brown eyes, a mop of curly hair, and an alarmingly young face. Cap’s brows shot up upon meeting the kid’s startled gaze. The mask slipped from his fingers onto the floor.

“Good god,” Bucky exclaimed, grimacing. “You really are just a kid.”

Spider-Man’s jaw hung open slightly, his cheeks dusting a soft pink color. His emotions were a lot more tangible sans his disguise. He had the face of a boy who was supposed to be trading Pokémon cards with his friends after school or studying for a Spanish quiz, not fighting international wars against the world’s most powerful superheroes or being interrogated in a hijacked plane. A knot formed in Steve’s gut.

“Yeah, well, you’re just an extremely intimidating super soldier from the 1940s with a metal arm and very dreamy eyes, so…get bent,” Spider-Man grumbled, trying and failing to conceal his discomfort. Being unmasked obviously bothered him.

“Enough of this, son,” placing a hand on his shoulder. “Everything that’s happening is so much bigger than you think, and it’s appalling to me that Tony would knowingly drag a child into it. Tell us where our friends are so we can get you home, out of this mess, back to your family and your life.”

The boy’s face knit into a scowl, although it was more cute than it was threatening. “No,” he said. “I won’t. I’m not betraying Mr. Stark like that. And I’m not just some dumb kid in over his head like you think.” He stared forward with his back straight and his head held high, a daring glint in his eye. “I’m not talking.”

“You’ve been talking this entire time,” Bucky scoffed. “You've just been saying everything except what we’ve asked of you.”

The boy averted his gaze and set his jaw. He looked resolved to stay silent. Cap doubted there was any way he could convince him otherwise. He huffed indignantly and turned to face the others, corralling them out of the cabin and into the cockpit.

“This is a waste of time,” he said, voice hushed. “Let’s just ditch the kid and figure out another way to locate the others.”

“He obviously knows where they are,” Bucky retorted. “Our best chance of finding them without alerting Stark is getting him to fess up.” He pounded his metal hand into the palm of his flesh one. “Give me five minutes with him. I’ll get him talking in no time.”

“We are not hurting him,” Steve growled.

“I won’t! Jesus, Steve. I’ll just make him think I am. The kid’s already scared shitless of me. Might as well use that to our advantage.”

Cap tugged restlessly at his leather gloves, looking to Scott with a haphazard shrug. “Lang? Any bright ideas? You’ve been awfully quiet this whole time.”

Antman crossed his arms and chuckled lightly. Steve narrowed his eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Scott insisted, still snickering. “It’s just really obvious that you two have no experience interacting with children.”

Bucky and Steve exchanged a glance, looking offended. “Sure I do,” Cap insisted. “I’ve been around lots of kids. During my tour around the country, I did shows for them. Kissed tons of babies. Posed for hundreds of pictures.”

“Okay, fine,” Lang conceded. “Kids from this century.”

Cap shifted his weight between his feet. He had him there.

“I have a daughter. I know how kid’s think. You’re treating him like some burly, grown-ass double agent when you should be treating him how I treat Cassie when she’s being a stubborn little brat.” He shrugged. “But, you know, in this case, with a bit less lenience. The stakes being slightly higher than Cassie hiding Daddy’s favorite slippers.”

Bucky snorted. “What are you suggesting? Bending him over your knee? Taking away his juice box?”

Antman gaped at him in horror. “I would never spank a kid. Don’t you know how detrimental hitting can be to a child’s social-emotional growth, self-regulation, and cognitive development?”

The Winter Soldier rolled his eyes. “It was a joke. What’s your plan, then? He may be young, but he’s not a toddler. It’s gonna take more than a few empty threats to make him crack.”

Scott scratched his chin. “I have one idea,” he said. “It’s kinda silly, not exactly fool-proof. But if it works, we might be able to get him to talk without having to hurt him.”

“At this point, I’m open to anything,” Steve admitted.

Antman sighed, then shrugged. “All right. I’ll give it a try.” He stepped between the two super soldiers and approached the kid, whose face bore a defiant frown. Scott knelt down in front of him and offered a friendly smile.

“Hey there, kiddo. How ya holding up?”

Spider-Man wrinkled his brow but didn’t respond. Scott was well acquainted with that rebellious glare. He patted his arm.

“Sorry you’re having to go through all this. I imagine you gotta be feeling a lot of not-so-great emotions right now. Being kidnapped by people you once looked up to, chained to a chair, asked a bunch of questions you don’t want to answer. That’s a lot to deal with.”

After a moment, the kid’s scowl unfurled a little. He looked the man up and down, adjusting his position in his chair.

“You’re that giant guy who backhanded me out of the sky,” he ventured hesitantly.

“Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that. Hope I didn’t hurt you too bad.”

Peter narrowed his eyes, more out of curiosity than distrust. “How’d you do that? One minute you were regular sized, the next minute you were gone, and then suddenly you were huge. It was insane.”

Lang held up his arm and pointed at his wrist. “I have serums in my suit that let me grow and shrink at will. But shrinking is a lot easier than growing; being that big seriously takes it out of me.”

A cloud of fear washed across the kid’s face. “Oh my god,” he whispered. “Are you gonna shrink really small and c-crawl into my ear and hijack my brain and force me to tell the truth?”

Antman chuckled. “No, kid. No brain hijacking happens on my watch.” His smile shifted to an expression that was less warm and more apologetic. “I am, unfortunately, still gonna have to make you tell us where our friends have been taken. It’s really important that we locate them, and if you don’t tell us willingly, I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”

Spider-Man’s heartbeat crawled into his throat. He tried to keep his face blank, despite the fear pounding its way through his chest. He forced a smug chuckle, but it came out more like a cough.

“And what does that entail? You already took off my mask. You have nothing left to threaten me with. What’re you gonna do? Take other parts of my costume off? Like some kind of pervy superhero strip poker thing? I think I’d have to report you to someone for that. I can already see the headline now—Captain America: From War Criminal to Registered Sex Offender.”

Bucky barked out a laugh, and Steve punched him in the shoulder. Scott snorted amusedly.

“You like making others laugh when you’re afraid. It’s a clever little trick; it disarms your enemies while distracting you from your fear. And you’re really good at it, too.”

Antman stood, grabbing a chair from the corner of the room, then stepped behind the kid so he could no longer see him. Spider-Man craned his neck in both directions to try to see where he was, but the belt around his chest significantly limited his range of motion. Scott placed the chair behind him and sat down in it so he was facing the kid’s back, outside of his field of vision. Dread prickled across Peter’s skin.

“I, on the other hand, prefer making people laugh when they’re the ones who are afraid. It’s a really good way to settle a scared person’s nerves while exercising control over a delicate situation.”

“W-what are you talking about?” Spider-Man snapped, a new wave of restlessness reigniting in his bones. He felt twitchy and trapped and was really starting to hate how little he could move, and the fact he couldn’t see his interrogator. He struggled against his restraints even though it was pointless. “Whatever game you’re playing isn’t going to work! I’m not telling you anything!”

Out of nowhere, something blunt tasered his side, making the kid jolt in surprise and release an involuntary squeak. He looked down and spotted Scott’s index finger an inch away from his midriff, hovering just below his ribcage.

“No games,” Lang assured him. “Just a little test of endurance.” He poked him again, this time on the other side, then began alternating back and forth, making Peter cringe. “You’re not ticklish, are you, Spider-Man?”

Captain America watched the kid’s face flush fire engine red. He thrashed, then gasped, then pursed his lips until they turned white, biting back a smile like his life depended on it. Scott moved his fingers lower, teasing Spider-Man’s tummy, and a started yelp sprung from his throat.

“Is that a yes? It’s a little hard to tell since I can’t see your face.”

What the hell?! he thought bewilderedly. Tickling me! Like a six-year-old! The unexpected tactic had caught him severely off guard. He had anticipated enduring some form of torture, steeling himself acordingly, maybe something psychological or mind-numbing or involving crazy hallucinogenic S.H.I.E.L.D. drugs.

But this?

The worst part was that he was ticklish. Like, a lot. He had been for as long as he could remember, and gaining powers, evidently, had not changed that. He could get away easier with his enhanced agility and strength, but that didn’t help him now. He was bound to a chair with no hope of escaping. He couldn’t guard himself or twist away or move more than a few inches in any direction. His entire torso was exposed, free for his interrogator’s fingers to explore. And, with how leisurely his hands were tickling him, taking time to traipse across all twenty-four of his ribs and test the sensitivity of each new spot he moved to, Scott was very much aware of this.

It already sucked being the youngest superhero among the Avengers. By default, everyone looked down on him, expecting him to be callow and weak. This was just salt in the wound—torturing him for information using one of the most childish and laughable techniques out there. And it was working.

For Mr. Stark’s sake, and for the sake of his dignity, he couldn’t let them win.

“Huh. I think he might be,” Bucky observed as he watched the boy flounder, a sly grin coiling across his lips. “You’re looking a little red in the face there, bud. Anything you’d like to say? Some intel you wanna get off your chest?”

The kid spluttered, shaking his head, his face muscles betraying him and lifting into a smile. The blush in his cheeks was bleeding down his neck, creeping towards his hairline, seeping through the tips of his ears. Scott’s hands continued prodding delicately at his midsection, adding more and more fingers and steadily increasing the pressure behind his touch. It was so maddeningly gentle and featherlike, Peter thought he might implode—either from how terribly it tickled, or how dreadful the anticipation was of the far intenser tickling to come.

“I know you want to laugh. It’s all right, kiddo. There’s no need to hold it in. I promise you’ll feel better once you do.” Lang spidered all ten fingers along the kid’s narrow torso, using his fingertips rather than his nails, and Spider-Man squealed. “All those anxieties you’re still holding on to will dissolve right away.”

What Peter actually wanted to do was die. He couldn’t keep quiet any longer. He squeezed his eyes shut and let his head fall against the back of the chair, muscles clenched, shoulders bouncing as much as his restraints allowed, despair washing over him as giggles began to slip through his defenses.

“Mmmm! You—meheh—sh-shihit!” He dug his fingers into the armrests, smiling from ear to ear, burning from head to toe, bubbling with shrill, adorable laughter that instantly melted every heart in the room. Scott didn’t let up, though; in fact, he started tickling him harder, eager to hear more of the kid’s endearing giggles.

“There ya go! See? I knew your little tough guy act wouldn’t last.”

“Ch-cheeheaters!” Spider-Man choked out, squirming helplessly in his seat. Captain America chuckled.

“There’s no cheating in an interrogation, kid. Either you tell us where our friends are and we set you free, or Antman doesn’t let up. Plain and simple.” He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “And by the looks of it, you’re not gonna last very long.”

“Might as well save yourself the trouble and give up now,” Scott suggested. His devious fingers began pinching and tweaking Peter’s sensitive skin, starting from his hips and inching toward his underarms. “I’d hate to stop right away, though—your laugh is too cute!”

Squeaky hiccups began punctuating Spider-Man’s giggle-fits. Cap and Bucky could hardly believe it: Lang’s ridiculous plan might actually work. And hey, if that meant listening to the kid’s sunny laughter and basking in his radiant smile a little while longer, they weren’t complaining. It was easy to forget what a pain in the ass Spider-Man was while watching him cackle like a baby hyena.

“Eeheat shit and dihihie!” Peter spat. Antman figured if he still had enough energy to insult them, let alone form full sentences, it was time to step things up a notch. He took his hands off Spider-Man’s belly, cracked his knuckles, then latched on to his ribcage, drilling all ten fingers deep into the bone.

Spider-Man threw back his head and howled.

“Uh-oh,” Lang said, grinning maliciously. “I think I found the little spider’s tickle spot.”

For a few seconds, the kid laughed soundlessly, wrenching against his bonds and smiling the biggest smile in the world. Violent hiccups punched out of his throat and tears sparkled in his eyes. Nothing had ever tickled him as torturously as the hands on his ribs were now. Cap wondered if Stark had realized his new recruit had gone missing by now. He wondered what he’d think of what they were putting the poor kid through.

“STAHAP!” Spider-Man shrieked. The three Avengers laughed at him, making the kid wish he had the power to spontaneously combust. This was beyond humiliating. Meanwhile, Scott’s fingers crept higher, crawling towards his underarms like two menacing tarantulas.

“It must really suck, not being able to lower your arms,” Antman thought out loud. “You can’t guard yourself at all. Especially these vulnerable little pits of yours.” He fluttered his fingertips against the hollows, sending goosebumps shooting up Peter’s spine. “I mean, I can do this to you all day long, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me! Besides telling us where our friends are, anyway. That’s gotta be driving you crazy.”

Not only was his tickling him to tears; Antman was teasing him about it! Mercilessly! Peter’s entire body fizzled with embarrassment. The words to set him free dangled on the tip of his tongue. The Raft! They’ve been transported to the Raft!

But no, he couldn’t. Couldn’t give up. Not now. Not yet.

“Ahasshole!” he cried, twisting and turning in attempt to get away. “Goho j-jump in a lahayHAY—EEHEEHEEK!”

Scott dug into his underarms mid-sentence, scribbling his nails against his pits. Spider-Man screeched and laughed, doubling over as much as he could (which basically meant just dropping his chin to his chest) and squeezing the armrests so tight he left dents in the metal.

“Ooh, looks like we’ve got another one,” Scott said amusedly, watching the kid writhe and cackle beneath his touch. “Tickle spot numero dos.” He wormed his fingers deep into his sensitive skin, chuckling at Spider-Man's frenzied reactions. “You really should’ve thought about padding this suit more, buddy. It doesn’t protect you at all! Not from punches, lasers—and certainly not from tickles.” He switched to pinching and squeezing Spider-Man’s defenseless pits, jumping down every now and then to attack his ribs some more just to keep the poor kid guessing. “Might want to rethink that for future costume designs, huh?”

Dammit, Mr. Stark! If he did wind up throwing in the towel and spilling the beans, Tony had to shoulder at least part of the blame for making his suit so thin. Granted, his homemade suit was probably just as thin, if not thinner, but still. The fabric of his costume was doing absolutely nothing to dampen the unbearable tickling sensations. In fact, it may have been making them worse.

“Ihi’m—AHAHA! You—gaHA—f-fuhuhAck!” Peter’s speaking abilities were deteriorating along with his willpower. Antman was tickling his entire torso now, tweaking his sides and kneading his belly and clawing his armpits and needling his ribs. As his hysterical laughter dissolved back to twitchy silence and turbulent hiccuping, Scott sensed the kid was nearing his breaking point. He shared a look with Cap and Bucky, then slowed his attack, resting his fingers against Spider-Man’s sides but no longer moving them. The relief was so magical and unexpected, Peter thought he might melt.

“Gah—heh—oho—my god,” he wheezed. He sagged in his chair, panting harshly, strands of hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. “You…eheh…soho mean…”

The weary hero looked so precious and flustered and pathetic, it made all three of them want to barf. Bucky got in his face, smirking with delight.

“Ready to talk now, kid?”

Cap appeared at Bucky’s side, boasting a smile of his own. “It’s time to give up, Spider-Man. Whether you tell us now or tell us later, we’re going to break you eventually.”

Peter moaned weakly, airy giggles still fluttering in his belly. “Juhust let…c-catch breath,” he implored. He was cute enough that Scott almost considered letting him get away with it. But he knew the ploy Spider-Man was trying to pull, and they needed the info he had ASAP. He stood with the others and ruffled the kid’s messy hair.

“If you can say words, you can tell us where the others are.” He gave his head a playful shove, leaning over the chair he was trapped in. “Come on, Spidey—out with it already.”

Peter filled his lungs with a few more ragged gulps of air. Then, slowly, determinedly, he shook his head.

Captain America scoffed, shocked as he was impressed. “Seriously, kid? You’re really not backing down?”

“Bad idea, buddy,” Scott warned him. “Think for a sec. We were being nice these past few minutes. We all could’ve been going after you, but it was just me. And you were still losing your shit.” He nodded towards Steve and Bucky. “Are you sure you want to face the wrath of myself and these guys? I shudder to think how unbearable it’d feel to be tickle tortured by a pair of super soldiers. Especially for someone as ticklish as you.”

Peter wanted nothing more than to sink through the floor and drop into the ocean. Drowning beneath the waves sounded far less daunting than facing the harrowing decision laid before him. His eyes dashed between the two men, who grinned back at him smugly as they waited for his answer. He swallowed thickly.

“I—u-um—”

“If you don’t tell us now, we’re going to tickle you non-stop for the next ten minutes,” Bucky stated simply, “even if you fess up sooner than that.”

Spider-Man understood now why Mr. Barnes was so successful in his craft. The mere thought of that metal hand having free reign on his tummy was enough to make him lightheaded. And for ten minutes? He would simply perish.

“That, uh, d-doesn’t really seem like—”

“And when you do eventually crack, we’ll be sure to tell every other superhero we know who told us where our friends were taken and how we got him to talk,” Steve added. “That is, unless you speak up. Right. Now.”

The boy exhaled hollowly. His gaze wandered to the window while his fingers drummed against the armrests. He puffed out his cheeks, then let his head drop back. A small chuckle bubbled from his chest.

“You know what’s actually really great about this? I am never going to lose another game of Two Truths and a Lie in my life.”

The three adult superheroes shared a puzzled glance. Spider-Man continued.

“Like, who’s going to hear me say ‘I was tranqued and kidnapped by Captain America who then tied me to a chair in a hijacked plane and had his teammates torture me for information by tickling me out of my mind’ and be like ‘Oh yeah, that’s definitely true’?” Nobody, that’s who. Then I’ll get to be all ‘Sike, bitch! I one hundred percent was!’ And maybe that’ll make all of this worth it.”

Lang snorted as he returned to his seat behind Spider-Man, giving the kid’s side a few cautionary pokes. “I’m warning you, kid. Tell us where they are, or you’re seriously going to regret it.”

Nervous giggles started sneaking into his speech, peppered in between every other word, but Peter didn’t stop talking, He couldn’t seem to make himself stop.

“Oh! Lehet’s not forget Never Have I Ever! It wohorks for that, too! Unless there’s sohome other hapless soul out there youhou’ve s-subjected to this treatment? Though the lihikelihood of us ever meeting and just rahandomly deciding to play Never Hahave I Ever is probably pretty slim, right?”

The Winter Soldier chuckled at Spider-Man’s frenetic rambling. As much as he enjoyed tormenting the brat and hearing him laugh, he was only going through with this because the kid wasn’t giving them any other option. In the short time they’d spent together, Spider-Man had proved himself clever, loyal, and stubborn to a fault—characteristics that defined great heroes. Not to mention, obnoxiously cute. And even if he had sided with Stark in the battle in Germany, he was clearly a good kid who’d just been swept into a crazy situation. For the sake of his lungs and general sanity, Barnes could only hope Scott had worn him down enough that he would break quickly.

Bucky knelt by Spider-Man’s side, wiggling his fingers at thim threateningly, setting off Peter’s spidey sense and inflicting him with phantom sensations. “Better get the spit ready, ‘cuz this little spider-piggy’s about to start squealing.”

Cap sat on the floor in front of the kid and patted his leg. “Last chance, Spider-Man. One word from you, and all this stops.”

He was giggling more than talking now, but still carrying on. “Youhou know w-whahat else I just rehealized? I can say whahatever I want to you guys rihight now, and it dohoesn’t matter! ‘Cuz either wahay, the cohonsequences will be just as bad. Soho, uh, h-here it goes.” He took a breath, then leveled his gaze on the Winter Soldier. “Youhou, scary guy. Cuhut your gohodamn hair. I’m on enough suhuperhero ihinternet forums to know what the peeheople want. You look like Edna Mode frohom the Incredibles crossed with a pedophile.”

Bucky’s jaw hung in response, which granted Peter a twinge of satisfaction despite his situation. Next, he looked back at Antman, who he still couldn’t see.

“Ahand you, Tiny-Shrinky-Growy Dude. Youhou’re just—mean, okay? I don’t like you. So. Thehere. I hope whehen I knocked you down durhuring our fight, ihit gave you a giant bruise ahand a kihiller headache.” He stuck out his tongue and blew a big fat raspberry in his direction just for good measure. Lastly, he turned on Cap.

“And youhou, Steve, are officially off my suhuperhero idols list. Ihi’m peeling all your stihickers off my water bottle, dohonating your ahaction figures to Goodwill, and duhumping all your comic books in the trahash then dousing them in gasoline and sehetting the whole th-thihing ohon fihiheeheeAHhaha!”

Cap started squeezing his legs just above his knees, sending shocks through his limbs with nowhere to go. “All right, that’s enough,” Rogers chuckled. “Looks like we’re doing this the hard way.”

Bright, maniacal laughter spilled from the kid’s lips. Steve smiled, wholly endeared. He was starting out gentle, testing the waters of Spider-Man’s undeniable sensitivity, and already the boy looked ready to blow. He inched his hands higher up his legs, kneading into the muscle, and he swore he saw the kid turn a shade redder; he didn't think that was possible.

“EEHEEhaha!” Peter giggled shrilly. Little spasms surged through his legs every time Cap’s deadly fingers tweaked them. This bizarre misadventure was actually teaching him lots of new things about himself—like the fact that his legs were insanely ticklish. No one had ever really tickled him there before, so it was certainly news to him.

Another fun discovery: if tickled long enough, his voice jumped to glass-shattering octaves against his will, pitching higher and louder than he thought possible. This experience was anything if not humbling.

In case that wasn’t torturous enough, Antman began scuttling his fingers against his neck, making the tiny hairs on his arms stand on end. “You’re one helluva glutton for punishment, kiddo. How much more do you think you can take?”

None, none, no more, Peter’s brain wailed. The teasing was just as cruel as the feathery touches tickling him silly.

Then the Winter Soldier’s metal hand found his tummy, and Spider-Man inhaled so sharply he wound up snorting, sparking laughter from his three tormentors.

“Spider-piggy indeed,” Bucky said, his ice-cold fingers scurrying across his belly. The kid angled his body as far from the super soldier as he could manage, but the metal hand stayed glued to stomach, kneading and wiggling meticulously.

“EEHEEVIL!” Peter hiccuped. It was too much, too much. Every muscle inside him was tensed and aching. His abs were on fire from laughing so hard. There were too many hands tickling too many places on his poor little spider-body.

He had to say it.

He couldn’t.

He had to say it.

He couldn’t.

The Raft! his mind screamed over and over again. Just say it! The Raft, The Raft, The Raft!

Out of everything, the hands on his thighs were by far the worst, pushing him to the brink of insanity. Cap was squeezing mercilessly now, drilling his thumbs into his legs with cruel fervor, making Peter thrash and scream-laugh. Fortunately, right as he was about to lose it, the hands suddenly lifted off him, and Spider-Man gasped with relief. The neck and tummy tickles were still maddening, but not to such an unhinged degree.

Then a fingertip brushed the bottom of his foot, and Peter choked.

“NOhoho!” he cried before he could stop himself. He kicked his legs with all his might, but his feet were trapped in place. Cap cracked a smile.

“No?” he repeated innocently. He scribbled his fingers against the center of his sole, drawing a squeal from the young hero. “Why ‘no’? Does this bother you or something?”

The fabric on his feet felt extra thin—great for wall-crawling, less great when being tickled to death. When Spider-Man tried defending himself by flexing his foot and scrunching up his toes, Steve seized his foot with one hand, holding it still, and tickled it with the other. Peter yelped and laughed, spitting curses as Cap dragged his nails up and down the length of his arch.

“IhI’ll—STIHICK!” he threatened him.

“You’ll stick?” Steve said, frowning. Then, for an instant, his fingertips froze against the kid’s foot. When he tried to pull away, they wouldn’t move, as if Spider-Man’s sole had adhered to his skin. Thankfully, with a slightly stronger tug, his fingers broke loose. Cap gazed at his hand in disgust. “Holy—yuck! Your feet can stick to things? What kind of creepy power is that?”

Spider-Man tried to answer, but Bucky started digging his thumbs into his hips. He immediately erupted into uncontrollable laughter, arching his spine and throwing his head back.

“You’re so scrawny,” the Winter Soldier observed, grinning as his technique transformed the kid’s giggles from bubbly to panicked. As mean as it felt—driving the kid to giggly hysterics—it sure was fun. “You look like Steve before he got the serum. Your little hip bones poke out so much! Does that somehow make them more ticklish? Sure seems like it.”

At the same time, Scott went back to tickling his underarms, scuttling his fingers all over his pits. They weren’t holding anything back now. No more Mr. Nice Avengers. They were determined to get an answer out of him. And Peter was fresh out of willpower.

“I assume you have to be focused to make yourself sticky, so I’m going to take my chances,” Steve said. His fingertips reunited with Spider-Man’s soles, one hand per foot this time, and began tickling both heels, arches, and sets of toes simultaneously. To Peter’s dismay, Cap’s hypothesis proved correct; there was no way in hell he could concentrate enough to stick to him—not while four other hands absolutely wrecked his upper body. And now with foot tickles added to the roster, he was utterly, entirely screwed.

“D-DYHYHING!” he managed to rasp, only to descend right back into silent, hiccup-filled cackling. His brain felt like it was short circuiting; it couldn’t hope to process the overload of tickly stimuli assaulting his body from every angle.

“Tell us where our friends are, and we’ll stop,” Scott replied, redirecting his attack to the kid’s rib cage. Being as ticklish of a spot as it was, Lang figured it deserved some more unforgiving, undivided attention.

Spider-Man whipped his head from side to side and gasped for air. He was fighting for his life just to sputter out one word. “C-CAHAN’T!”

“Sure you can,” Bucky said. He shimmied his hands along the kid’s torso, squeezing and tweaking his sensitive sides, eliciting a string of shrill hiccups from his gaunt frame. “‘Cuz until you do, we’re not stopping. Make your choice, kid: cough up the location, or be tickled to death.”

He barely had the strength to twitch anymore. His face ached from smiling so long. Six merciless hands against one ticklish spider was so completely unfair, and more than enough to torture him out of his mind. He only had one option left to exhaust before giving in: beg.

“P-PLEEHEEHEASE!” he grated out. “CAHan’t—AHAK—L-LUHUNgs—GAHhaHAGH!”

The three heroes ignored his pleas, continuing their tickle-filled interrogation without easing up. It was no use. He couldn’t bear another second. He had to make this stop.

Before he could summon enough oxygen to punch out the words, a woman’s voice met his ear—scratchy and warbled, like she was speaking through a walkie-talkie. The others must’ve heard it too, because their wiggling fingers suddenly stalled to a halt. Peter slumped in his seat and filled his starving lungs with air, inhaling and exhaling in greedy gulps. Cap hopped to his feet and jogged into the cockpit.

“Steve….chh—ome in. There?” the mystery voice called. Dazed, Peter lifted his head and spotted a holographic face floating above the control panel. The image was poor, but he recognized the speaker: Natasha Romanoff, aka Black Widow.

“Nat, is that you?” Cap said, stunned. “How did you tap our ship? Where are you?”

“N-N-No time,” the holograph stuttered, glitching sporadically. “Listen…know where—others. Didn’t hear fr-fr-from me.” Her whole face fizzled out for a moment, then reformed a few seconds later. “—Raft! Can—hear me? Your friends have been taken to the Raft!”

Slowly, grievously, Peter’s heart dropped like an anchor. Antman and the Winter Soldier stood and followed Steve into the other room.

“Underwater facility. Location changes w-w-weekly. Send—current coordinates now.”

Cap huffed out a laugh—one part shock, another part relief. “Thank you, Nat. I don’t know if you can hear me, but—thank you. We owe you one.”

Natasha gave a shrewd smile, then disappeared. A line of longitudes and latitudes appeared on the screen, as well as a map with a recommended course charted for their destination.

“Holy shit,” Bucky scoffed. “She really pulled through.”

“Nice!” Scott cheered. “So, what now? Should we just whip the plane around, go straight there, bust ‘em out? What’s the plan?”

“Are you—f-freaking—kidding me?”

The three men turned back to their captive. The kid was still struggling to catch his breath—face flushed, eyes wet with tears—and despite the dizzy smile clinging to his features, he looked absolutely devastated.

“You’re telling me…I w-went through all of that…for nothing?” He closed his eyes and let his head drop back, panting heavily and moaning in defeat. “I…h-hahate…my life. Uhugh…”

Scott hunched his shoulders with a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, bud. I’ll give credit where it’s due, though: you held out a lot longer than I expected.”

Spider-Man whimpered miserably in response. Bucky returned to his side and gave his hair an affectionate tousle.

“Aw, cheer up, kid. Look on the bright side: now, when you play that game you mentioned, you get to say that you were captured by Captain America, tied to a chair, tortured for information by the Winter Soldier—but you didn’t break. Now that’s a badass anecdote.”

Reluctantly, the kid raised his gaze to meet his. It was nauseating how cute he looked—all rosy cheeks and big brown doe eyes. Stark had no right recruiting such an adorable face to fight his battles for him. He understood now why the boy was so keen on wearing a mask.

“Nothing about any of this h-has made me feel badass…” he murmured. He gestured behind him with a nod of his head. “Feel free to open up the back and chuck me off the plane at your earliest convenience. I don’t think my ego w-will…ever recover from this.”

Captain America approached him and patted his shoulder. “It’s all right, Queens. You stayed strong in the face of adversity—that’s what we’ll remember from this. You’re obviously a very dependable person.” He gave his arm a small squeeze. “Tony is lucky to have you on his team.”

Immediately, the kid’s face blanched. “Oh my god. Are you still going to tell him and everyone else you know about this?”

Steve smiled and shook his head. “No. I think you’ve suffered more than enough already.”

Spider-Man breathed a sigh of relief, his head drooping forward. A few moments later, he squirmed sluggishly against his restraints. “Could, um…could I maybe get out of this chair now, please?”

“That depends. Are you going to try to escape once you’re free?”

Peter shook his head. “No. I’d just like to lay on the floor and bemoan my existence for a bit.”

Cap couldn’t imagine the kid had the energy to try pulling anything funny after what they’d just put him through. And if he did, the three of them could handle it. Once he got the green light from Antman and Bucky, he got to work undoing all of Spider-Man’s bonds until he was finally free. The kid stayed true to his word; the moment he was unshackled, he melted out of his chair and onto the floor, sprawling flat with a long, weary groan.

His three captors chuckled. “Yeah, you take a minute,” Bucky said, reaching down and pinching his side. Spider-Man shrunk into a ball with a squeal, folding his knees to his chest and hugging himself around the middle.

“Do nohot,” he giggled feebly. He rolled on to his back with his arms around his tummy. “Pleehease. I am…soho tired…”

“Come on, guys,” Steve rebuked them. “Leave the poor kid be.”

Antman followed Captain America to the cockpit, shooting a glance over his shoulder. “So, uh, what now, Cap? What do we do with the kid?”

Steve loaded another round into the tranquilizer gun, which he had retrieved while Spider-Man was busy wallowing on the floor. “We’ll bring him with us to the Raft, knock him out while we snag our friends, then find a safe place to drop him from there. We can’t have him telling Tony our plan before we get the chance to rescue them.”

Scott exhaled slowly, then scratched his neck. “Right. Okay. Tranquing children. Sounds ethical enough.” He turned back to smile at the prostrate superhero. “He’s a fun little guy. Hopefully Stark doesn’t try to blast us all to smithereens once he realizes we kidnapped him.”

Cap nodded. “No kidding,” he agreed, then frowned. “Hope he can’t track us down before we’re able to drop him off, either.”

“Yeah,” Lang said with a shudder.

Steve stared at Spider-Man over Antman’s shoulder, narrowing his eyes. “That suit of his…” he began. “You think the kid made it himself?”

“I doubt it. It seems pretty high-tech. Did you see the inside of his mask? It’s inlaid with tons of advanced circuits. That thing must cost a fortune.”

A beat passed before the two men turned to each other rigidly. The realization seized both of them at the same time.

“If that suit is Stark tech…” Scott said ominously.

“You don’t think that…”

A crackling boom suddenly swept across the ship, making the aircraft dip and wobble. Rogers steadied himself with a hand against the wall. A boom like that could only be one thing: an object nearby flying so fast, it had broken the sound barrier.

“Whoa,” Spider-Man exclaimed, lifting his head from the floor. “What the hell was that?”

“Steve?” Bucky called. He was staring past him with wide eyes. Cap followed his gaze to the windshield behind them, which overlooked a cloudless blue sky. The view was clear except for one red and gold dot in the distance, barreling towards them with a trail of smoke in its wake, glinting in the sunshine. Steve’s heart leapt in his chest.

“Oh, shit.”

#spiderman #peter parker #ticklish!peter #sfw tickling #spider-man #mcu spiderman #tickling #irondad

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