#MCU needs to slow down

[planetallure]

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ dark!fic recs

CW: once again, these works contain dark and explicit themes that may be upsetting or triggering to some. please use your discretion and discernment.

@cherienymphe : when i first seriously got back on tumblr and got into dark!fanfic, cherie's was one of the first blogs i found. her writing was essentially my indoctrination. it was terrifying how much i loved it/her writing. truly phenomenal. i've read quite of few of her stories (mainly for rafe cameron, jj maybank, steve rogers, and peter parker) but i'll list my faves.

"when the party's over" - its something about this series...i think about it often. if you're into forced pregnancy or corruption tropes, tap in.

"wicked games" - i actually first read this one on ao3 before i discovered her tumblr and was absolutely gagged. another one i think of often.

"amnesiac" - the first series of hers that i ever read. absolutely traumatized me and i sobbed reading it. amazing storytelling.

"the hills" - another bangerrr. a one night stand ends in complete and total blackmail and entrapment. he just wanted to give her a better life *clown face emoji*.

"his father's son" - after ward death, rafe takes over the reins in more ways than one.

"teenage dirtbag" - this series single handedly made me a jj girl. the tension??? yup yup mhm.

"the less i know the better" - ironically my favorite part of this story is readers relationship with rafe but seeing jj slowly and then rapidly descend into madness? yeah.

"claimed" - a/b/o dynamics. brought me back to my wattpad days. still eat it up.

"daddy dearest" - steve meets a single mom and decides to be not the stepdad, but the dad who stepped up.

i'll be honest, i was a non believer in dark!peter but: "she's with me", "one last time." "suburbia" and "basic training" made a believer outta me. hands. down.

@lambtotheslaughterr : it absolutely amazes me the things that come from her mind. the level of creativity and originality needs to be studied. oona, you are criminally underrated.

“rise” - the first series of hers that i read. arguably the best series i’ve read on here thus far. this is the first part to her “the day the world ended” universe and it completely blew me away. i couldn’t believe that something like it had come from some silly little boat show. just brilliant.

“when the bough breaks” - the first work of hers i read. this one for me was a heartbreaking slow burn story, but the smut…makes up for it. yes yes.

“i burn” - sex!addict reader x rafe cameron. need i say more? actually, i will. the smut and tension in this one towards the end? it was shameful how turned on i was.

“one way or another” - buckle up, grab a snack, and prepare for the ride of a lifetime. that’s it.

“something wicked this way comes” - a single mom trying to escape her past, except her past is rafe cameron. this was one very spooky scary la la.

"summit" - the second part to the tdtwe universe. its still brand new but its already feeling like another banger, i mean it's oona. tap in.

@harryspet : rae was also apart of my indoctrination and boy did she do what needed to be done. her perfectly curated moodboards alone did it for me. very mindful, very demure.

"homestead" - what can i say...i'm a sucker for pregnancy stories :( and this series was no exception. absolutely delectable. enjoy.

"well kept" - classic millionaire ceo x reader, my younger wp reading self cheered gleefully. my love language is acts of service and boyy was this one speaking my language. had me at "scheduled braiding appointment."

"bambi eyes" - this one was one of those that made me want to take a good long look in the mirror and ask myself, "is this who we are...is this what we represent?"

@sherrybaby14 : this one is for the mcu girlies. more fics than you could ever ask for. everyone say "thank you, mother!"

"the distraction" - i'm starting to notice a kidnapping/stockholm syndrome pattern here...ANYWAY! work is realllyy stressful for steve and you just happen to be the perfect distraction.

@straywords : she's no longer active but her incredible writings remain so please, peruse. its like a beautiful museum over there.

"a break" - *gasp* another pregnancy story! stucky edition.

@darkficsyouneveraskedfor : an icon, a legend, she is the moment! another infinite library for my mcu girls. roo has all you could ever want or ask for.

@perlelune

"all too well" - yes, yes, another one, its who i am. rafe cameron proving once again that you can't escape him.

"lucky" - best friend!rafe x reader. he didn't know what he had until it was almost gone

"tag, you're it" - never read a scream fanfic before this one but boy did i have fun! chad is so pookie in this too :(

@honestsycrets : back when i was in my miguel era, sy single handedly kept me fed.

"starved | mio" - "mio", in which you babysit mayday and it gives miguel baby fever and "starved", in which he made you a mom...but its left less time for other activities.

"stung" - sex pollen/abo. reader gets bitten by an anomaly causing a reaction that only miguel can cure

"amor y respeto" - he just can't love you the way you need to be. so you and miguel break up...at the worst possible time.

"exclusive" - you and miguel are fuckbuddies. you want more, but miguel can't bring himself to give it to you. so you find company in hobie, who's there for you in all the ways that you need. miguel's not happy about that.

"canary" - you're a singer in the 1920s who's fallen in with the dangerous o'hara brothers.

"grande" - sex!worker miguel x assistant!reader. think...a pepper x tony kinda dynamic. except, miguel doesn't take kindly to certain slights. :)

@starfxkrinc : last but certainly not least! moony is a ridiculously talented writer and a mutal of mine. i found her early on during my resurgence on here. this is her new side blog (rip lovesickbrat and starfxkr!!) luckily she was able to salvage a lot of her past works and is back like she never left. i recommend her "western nights" series (really just the trailer park!jj tag in general) and her "ode to eaters" au. a queen of all things taboo. she does it for the girls who are drawn to the dark and scary. the gross and weird. <3

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Dad’s best friend | B.B

No one knows your deepest and dirtiest fantasies — no one but your dad’s best friend who gladly helps you to make them come true.

//Paining// DBF!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

//Wordcount// 890 Words

//Warnings// Minors DNI, 18+, Smut, DBF!Bucky, daddy kink, bit of innocence, begging, finger sucking, oral (m!rec), cum play, cum eating, degrading, bit of praise

//Request// Freakytober / Bucky Barnes / DBF / Daddykink, Degradation, Oral (m!rec), finger sucking, cum play, size kink, innocence / “You look pretty like that.”, “Pretty, all of you.”, “You should say my name more often, it sounds just too good. But I’m sure if you moan it it sounds even better. / @sergeantbarnessdoll

//Authors Note// Thank you for the request and I hope you like it!

//Events// MCU Kink Bingo | O2 | Bondage: Begging | @mcukinkbingo | Bucky Barnes Bingo | B023 | C3 | Free Space / Howling Commandos | @buckybarnesbingo | Hot Bucky Summer | Week 3 | "Really? Here?!", Someone Else's House, Public Bathroom, Mile High Club | @buckybarnesevents

// Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist //

“You look pretty like that, on your knees for your daddy’s best friend. What would he say if he saw his sweet innocent angel begging his best friend to suck his cock?” Bucky teases, his hand in your hair, to hold you in place while he lets you look up at him. Bucky’s cock is already freed from his too-tight pants, the tip of his dick is red and leaking — waiting for you to suck it.

“Daddy, please,” you whine, trying to inch your face closer to his cock, but he only chuckles low in his throat. His big hand holds you a few inches away from his thick length. You want to suck him and kiss his skin, but he just holds you in a firm grip at a slight distance.

A whimper leaves your lips as Bucky brings his other massive hand to his cock, his thumb running over his tip, smearing his pre-cum over his tip and collecting a bit of it on his thumb.

“Open your mouth,” he growls, grinning as you immediately obey. You open your mouth wide, twirling your head back slightly. Your tongue is sticking out, and you wait patiently for Bucky to give you his cock. “Such a slut, yeah, daddy’s little slut. Your poor dad thinks you’re such a sweet, innocent princess, but you’re a little whore for his best friend, aren’t you?”

Before you can respond, Bucky collects more of his cum on his fingers and pushes them into your mouth. You gag as he pushes your tongue down with his fingers and slides them deeper into your mouth. A smirk appears in his face as he finger-fucks your mouth.

“Fuck, looking so good. Sucking my fingers like a little slut. That’s what you are, a fucking whore,” he growls, removing his fingers from your mouth with a plop.

Your spit is flowing down the corners of your mouth, over your skin, and dripping onto your covered chest. Your eyes widen as you look up at your dad's best friend, whining to finally get his cock.

“B-Bucky, please. Need you, need your cock,” you whimper, licking over your lips. He shakes his head, grasping his cock with his wet fingers, and strokes himself a few times — only inches from your lips away.

“You should say my name more often, it sounds just too good. But I’m sure if you moan it, it sounds even better,” he says, slapping the tip of his cock against your lips. You immediately part them softly, ready to take his cock, and he finally gives you what you’re asking for. Bucky pushes half of his length into your mouth, groaning as you swallow him.

Bucky thrusts at a slow pace into your mouth, his balls slapping against your chin, coating them in your saliva. He moans, grasping your hair with more force and holding your head in place while he speeds up his thrusts.

“Fuck, feeling so good. Made to suck my cock, doll. Made to be my personal little fuck toy,” Bucky groans, his cock twitching in your mouth as he pushes further down. Your tongue glides over the underside of his cock, causing you to feel his veiny, soft skin all over your tongue. His musky taste sticks in your mouth even as he pulls out with a loud groan.

“Nooo- daddy, please. Come in my mouth, wanna taste you, daddy,” you whine, trying to lean forward to get his cock back in your mouth, but the older man laughs and shakes his head.

“Wanna come on your pretty face, doll. Didn’t know you’re such a little cum slut, huh?” He chuckles, grasping his cock in his big hand and stroking his length fast.

With a low groan, he comes all over your face, his cum shooting over your nose and cheeks, even your forehead and hair are covered in his cum. You open your mouth, feeling the warm liquid on your tongue, and you swallow it down with a needy moan, whining to get more of his cum, more of him.

"Fuck, you look so good with my cum all over your face. Just like the fucking slut you are for me,” he says, slapping his softening cock against your cheek, smirking as you look at him with widening eyes, cloudy by lust. He smears his cum all over your face, covering his cock in it. “Open your mouth and clean it, doll.”

You do as you’re told, taking his thick length back into your mouth and immediately twirling your tongue around him, swallowing his salty cum. Moans leave your lips, and you press your thighs together, needing more of him — more of his talented fingers and his huge cock.

“You look pretty. So pretty. All of you,” he growls, grasping your chin with his hand, letting his cock slide out of your mouth, and leaning down to kiss your lips in a possessive but loving kiss. “How about we continue in my bedroom, babydoll? Daddy’s gonna make you feel so good.” With that, he lifts you up, smirking at you as he kisses you while carrying you to his bedroom so he can fuck you silly until everything you know is his name and the feeling of his cock inside of you, and then he can take good care of you.

//Taglist// @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @loki-laufeyson68 @winterschildren8 @bxtchboy69 @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @bucky-barnes-lover @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing @blackhawkfanatic @fanfictionreaderfan @multiversefanfics @angelbabyyy99 @looking1016 @aphrodite-xoxo @im-alestan @holylulusworld

[librababe99]

In the Quiet Hours

A/N: First off, thank y’all so much for showing so much love to the work I’ve posted so far! It’s great to see all the interactions and makes me happy people are sticking around to see more🥹

In honor of hitting 30 followers I decided to write a quick one shot with Scott Summers. Please let me know if there are other X-men OR MCU characters you would like me to write for!  - Libra ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:*

Word Count: 566 CW: Suggestive themes, friends to lovers 

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The dim glow of the X-Mansion hallway lights barely illuminated your path as you made your way to the kitchen for a late-night snack. You weren’t expecting to run into anyone—especially not Scott.

He was leaning against the counter, shirtless, his body bathed in the soft light filtering through the windows. You paused in the doorway, your breath catching at the sight of him. Scott was always disciplined, composed, but here, in the quiet of the night, he seemed… different. His usual intensity softened, a rare vulnerability on display.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. His ruby quartz glasses reflected the faint light, concealing his eyes, but you could feel his gaze on you, heavy and assessing.

“Yeah,” you replied, stepping into the kitchen, suddenly hyper-aware of the space between you. “You?”

He gave a small shrug, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “Something like that.”

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, from the way his muscles tensed and relaxed as he shifted his stance, from the way his skin glowed under the faint light. There was an unspoken tension between you, something that had been simmering for weeks, maybe longer. It was there in the way his fingers brushed yours as he handed you a glass of water, in the way your breath hitched at the accidental touch.

“Scott…” You hesitated, your voice barely audible. The air between you felt charged, every second stretching into something more.

He didn’t say anything, just took a step closer, his proximity making your pulse quicken. His hand reached out, gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that made your heart race. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the intoxicating scent of him filling your senses.

The tension between you was palpable, electric. His thumb traced the curve of your jaw, sending shivers down your spine. You could sense the restraint in him, the careful control he always maintained, but there was something more now—something raw, something hungry.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he admitted, his voice hushed, as if afraid to break the spell. “More than I should.”

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest. “Me too.”

The admission hung in the air, charged with a need that neither of you could ignore any longer. Scott leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn’t.

When his lips finally met yours, it was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every moment. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss with a fervor that made your knees weak. You melted into him, the world fading away until there was nothing but the feel of his mouth on yours, the way his hands gripped you like he never wanted to let go.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathless, foreheads resting against each other. Scott’s fingers lingered on your waist, his touch firm, possessive.

“This… this can’t be just once,” he whispered, his voice rough, filled with need.

You smiled, your fingers tracing the contours of his chest. “I wouldn’t want it to be.”

The promise lingered between you, a quiet acknowledgment of what had been building for so long. You knew this was just the beginning, that whatever this was between you, it was far from over.

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[kingofthewilderwest]

We need to start questioning the conflation of "maturity" with "increased stakes."

It's not to say higher stakes is always a bad choice. The first half of the How to Train Your Dragon book series has an endearingly whimsical, child-like feel. Hiccup's issues in the first half of book one are an obnoxious, cat-sized Toothless pooping in his helmet. The movie adaptation might have made the book and its counterpart distant cousins, but it was a thoughtful move to alter concepts to the appropriately theatrical: books and movies aren't the same medium. Hiccup riding alone on Toothless, exchanging fire blasts with a mountain-sized dragon, and losing his leg came off as well-done storytelling.

Hiccup staring at a prosthetic never happened in the book. He didn't lose his leg in his encounter with the Green Death. It was, as the creative powers behind the movie said, a result of the increased stakes. They didn't do this just to be more dramatic; they did it because it seemed that, based on how their narrative was going, this made sense. And this was a soft, quiet, shocking, breath-taking scene that instilled how good the movie handled its stakes. It gave us a reflective reaction to consequences that audiences might not have expected. This movie understood timing, pauses, quietness, narrative arc, poignance, reflection, emotion, love, and heart.

We know about the conflation of live action as "more mature" than animation. But a medium doesn't change maturity levels. We all know that's bogus, and many analyses have been given on that. Disney live actions add extraneous gunk, down to Gaston having a past relationship with war (so I've heard, from the people who actually watched the movie), and Disney giving us the sad scoop on why Belle's mom isn't around. Furthermore, lots of times, when I see the conversion of animation to live action, I notice creators feel a need to "raise the stakes" -- in line with the erroneous view of "giving maturity."

But "higher stakes" often means inserting action in place of mindful interaction. I feel today's Hollywood movies, in their treatment of "action," don't let movies pause and breathe anymore - ergo, they don't let us think. Isn't it more juvenile to actively avoid thought in favor of "hey look I made the building go boom"? There may be less "stakes" in introspection and mindful dialogue, but that's what gives it its maturity. That's how we went from Iron Man 1, with its grounded treatment of war and abuse, to the mindless high spectacle MCU is today.

Snappy one-liners or moments that clap at contemporary issues don't substitute for maturity. What can make a story mature is characters grappling with issues in a natural narrative through-line. A snappy one-liner is its own form of speedy spectacle.

We know about the conflation of "gore and sex" with "mature audiences." I believe they're right that graphic sex and gore is designed for adults. But that doesn't make it mature, and that doesn't make it the only way to target a medium for adults.

"Realisticness" isn't maturity. Per above regarding animation: realistic visuals are nothing. And if you think that putting more Debbie Downer material into your adaptation makes it more adult, you have to ask yourself why the themes that spoke to people's souls got muddled in its midst. We weren't mature enough to interact with the most subtle, nuanced, and impacting voice of the story. But hey! Look! There's more corpses, I guess!

It's not the visuals, it's not the events. It's not the "things." It's not the basic insertion of the external. Get past the superficial, get past the top layer of presentation. It's the mind. It's the ability to think. It's the ability to be still. It's the ability to be interested and attentive when something is slow or quotidian, because we can understand why that is important for narrative growth or arcs or themes or commentary on the human condition. It's the ability to know when and when not to include something. It's the ability to make resonant impact. It's the ability to be deep with your emotions or your themes. It's the ability to take what you have and grow it in a way by which we can derive something deeper.

Maturity is critical thought and well-conducted, appropriate responses to content of any kind.

As DeBlois tells Empire, the move to live-action brings a different emphasis to How To Train Your Dragon; a new heft, both physically and emotionally. “It’s so dialed-up in terms of stakes — having a fully credible, photo-real dragon stomping around trying to kill him,” the director says.

And maybe that DeBlois quote is taken out of context. Maybe there's more going on than that one sentence conveys. Maybe Empire is making their own erroneous assumptions. But "so dialed-up in terms of stakes," isn't, on its own, a good appeal. The animated movie already dialed things up - and knew when to include or not include something. A live-action that imitates the visuals of the animated movie exactly, as if no independent thought has been done to its unique adaptation, to the pros and cons of the medium, to what a independently-presented story needs and doesn't need... It has to make you wonder: how many conflations of "maturity" are going on?

How long are we going to keep making our own conflations?

[rootedinrevisions]

Kinktober 2024: Day 6

SUMMARY: Waking up to the warmth of Bradley Bradshaw between your legs is hardly how you imagined starting your morning—but when your Navy aviator boyfriend decides he can’t resist the sight of you in nothing but his shirt, all bets are off. As desire and playful teasing blend, Bradley shows just how much control he has over your body, bringing your dream to life in the most tantalizing way.

PROMPT: "You just look so good when you wear my shirt."

KINK: Somnophilia

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT. (Sex Dreams, Oral: Female Receiving)

WORD COUNT: 861

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have recently discovered a love for Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw and will be writing some more things with him and include him in some of the Kinktober prompts that I'm working on.

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! (I currently have one for Glen Powell & His Characters, One for Bradley/Rooster now, and then a third for WWE/Wrestling. I also can create one for Bucky & other MCU characters if there's interest for more of those characters!)

The soft morning light filtered through the blinds, casting a warm glow across the room. Bradley stirred beside you, his hand lazily resting on your hip, fingers brushing against the hem of his old Navy t-shirt that you’d fallen asleep in last night.

The sight of you wrapped up in his clothes made his heart swell with affection. You looked so peaceful, your breath slow and steady, your body curling into his as if you were made to fit together. But as his gaze traveled lower, where the fabric of the shirt had ridden up to expose your bare skin, a different kind of heat started to simmer inside him.

He let out a quiet sigh, leaning down with the intent of leaving a soft kiss on your forehead before slipping out of bed.

But then he heard it—soft, breathy, almost imperceptible moan.

Another small sound escaped your lips, a whimper that sent a rush of realization through him.

You were dreaming, and not just any dream.

His eyes darkened with a mix of amusement and desire. You let out another soft, needy sound, and his hand moved, slowly tracing along your thigh, testing how deeply asleep you were.

When you didn’t stir, Bradley’s smirk deepened. He knew he should let you rest, but the temptation was too strong. He couldn’t resist.

Without a second thought, he shifted his position beneath the sheets, carefully easing your legs apart. His lips ghosted over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, planting featherlight kisses as he inched closer to where you needed him most. His touch was deliberate, teasing, as his mouth hovered just over your core. The heat of his breath made you twitch in your sleep, but you didn’t wake. Not yet.

Bradley’s tongue darted out, tasting you softly, watching with satisfaction as your body responded instantly, a breathy moan slipping from your lips. He continued, each flick of his tongue more deliberate, more intense, as he felt you starting to writhe beneath him.

You were so close now, teetering on the edge. Your back arched slightly off the bed, your breathing ragged and desperate as you reached toward that peak. The tension built inside you, your body on the verge of release—

And then your eyes fluttered open.

Your mind was foggy, still caught somewhere between the dream and reality, but as you blinked into the morning light, you quickly realized what was happening.

Bradley’s broad shoulders were nestled between your legs, his mouth hot and relentless against you. Your breath hitched, a gasp escaping your lips as you tried to make sense of it all.

“Bradley?” Your voice was shaky, barely above a whisper.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, that familiar, wicked grin already curling across his lips as he paused for just a moment, his fingers gently caressing your thighs. “You just look so good when you wear my shirt,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. “I couldn’t help myself.”

You were about to respond, but any words you might have said were lost when he dipped his head back down, his mouth finding you again with renewed intensity. The sensation was overwhelming, and your body responded instinctively, hips bucking up against him as he pushed you toward the brink once more.

"Bradley..." you gasped, your fingers tangling in the sheets as you felt the tight coil inside you snap, your climax crashing over you in waves.

Your moans filled the room, and Bradley didn’t stop until he was sure you’d ridden out every last second of pleasure. He slowed, his touch gentle as you came down, trembling beneath him.

Finally, he slid back up the bed, his body warm and solid as he pressed himself against you, hovering above with a proud grin on his face.

“Morning, sunshine,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss you softly, his lips tasting faintly of you. “Sweet dreams?”

Your chest was still heaving, trying to catch your breath. “What... what was that?”

Bradley chuckled, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your flushed face. “Just couldn’t resist,” he said, his hand trailing down your side before resting on your waist. “You were making these little noises in your sleep. I figured, why not help you finish the dream?”

You let out a breathless laugh, still a little dazed but feeling the warmth of his body pressing into yours. “Next time, maybe wake me up before you—”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Bradley interrupted, his lips brushing against your ear, teasing as always.

His fingers played with the hem of the t-shirt, tugging it upward just enough to expose more of your skin. “Besides, you look so damn good like this. How could I not?"

You rolled your eyes, but the smile that tugged at your lips gave you away. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, pulling him down for another slow, lingering kiss. “Guess I can’t complain,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his as your heart rate finally started to slow.

Bradley chuckled softly, pressing his forehead against yours as his arms tightened around you. “Definitely not.”

[impala-dreamer]

Dark As The Ocean

A Tale From The MCU

Stucky x Reader (Bucky/Reader/Steve)

2,142 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Threesome, Cream Pie, Cum Eating, Cum Kisses, Oral, Anal, Fluff, Bucky’s in charge! Steve’s shy, Y/N is just along for the ride. 

A/N: So this happened. For Ashley @because-imma-lady-assface and a square on the Dreamer's Smutty Bingo card my followers made for me!

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

It felt like drowning in the best way.

So much crystalline blue surrounded her, eclipsing every other color as if God had turned the vibrancy up and the shadows down.

Steve’s eyes, so innocent yet hungry, swam up and down every inch of her nakedness, riding the wave of each curve and setting her passion on edge.

Bucky, confident and leading, kept his blue eyes locked on her face, watching every minuscule twitch and flutter, leaving only to check on his partner and come back again. He was playing Steve just as much as her, and they were all beyond the point of total arousal, naked and tumbling on the rented bed, reaching higher with every touch.

Steve pulled out, letting her orgasm seep down into the crisp white sheets. He hovered above her, strong arms holding him up while keeping her down. She squirmed against him, tightening her legs around his trim hips and clawing at his biceps. Every bit of her was drunk on pleasure, but she needed more. Her body ached to be filled and her mind was wiped clean of everything but cock.

“Please…” Her eyes were wide and wet; her voice weak and pathetic.

Flattered and empowered by her desperation, he rocked forward and teased the tip of his cock against her slit, pushing in only enough to make her jaw drop and her breath stop.

Her nails dug into his forearm, denting the tanned flesh with perfect slivers that mocked the moon hanging over the Capitol. “Please!”

Steve relented and jabbed deep inside with a quick snap of his hips. Y/N let out a muffled whimper as she tried in vain to hide her filthy cry behind tight lips.

Bucky cleared his throat and her eyes flew to his stern expression. “Don’t hold back, doll. You know I like to hear what’s going on in that dirty head of yours.”

She shuddered at the strength in his tone and chewed her lip, nodding in understanding.

Another deep thrust and her eyes rolled back. “Fuck, Steve-”

“You can do better,” Bucky urged as he slowly fisted his cock. He stood off to the side of the bed, watching intently as the others played.

Y/N moaned as Steve dipped down to lick into her mouth. She wrapped a delicate hand around the nape of his neck and held him there, hazy eyes staring into the deep blue of his irises.

“God, you fuck me so good,” she whispered, arching her back and pressing her tits into his firm chest. “Always need your fat cock, Steve. Fuck!”

His face flushed red as a firecracker and he kissed a shy smile against her lips.

Bucky laughed gently. “There it is. Love seeing you all flustered, Steve.”

She clung to him and rolled her hips, taking him deeper with every thrust.

Steve’s jaw tensed and his eyes shut tight. He moaned wordlessly, too stuck in his rhythm to think. He dipped down to kiss her and his long lashes tickled her cheek. She sighed, lost in heaven as he pushed her down into the soft mattress and licked into her mouth.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, breath hot against her lips.

His eyes fluttered open and Y/N fell into the dark ocean once more.

“So perfect.”

Another kiss and her body tightened around his cock.

“So amazing…”

Y/N came hard, shuddering beneath him and panting against his plump, kiss-swollen lips. “Fuck…”

Steve grinned and slowed his pace, fucking her through the pulsing orgasm until she was moaning loudly and leaking again.

Hard as a rock and enjoying the show, Bucky slowly made his way onto the bed, sneaking up behind Steve. He traced a cold metal finger down the length of Steve’s spine, making him shiver and sit up, arching his back.

“You two are so fucking hot.” Bucky growled against Steve’s back, dropping wet kisses as he moved up to his ear. “I want you to cum, Steve,” he ordered. “Fill up that sweet little peach…”

Without warning, he bit down on Steve’s right shoulder and the hero crumbled. He gripped Y/N’s hips as his own jerked uncontrollably. She could feel him pulsing deep inside her, see the orgasm ripple through his muscles, hear his breath catch. She covered his hands with her own, holding him there and watching every tiny twitch of pleasure on his handsome face.

“Good boy…” Bucky hissed his whisper into Steve’s ear and then departed. He dropped down next to Y/N and propped himself on his right arm.

Panting and empty, Steve pulled away and fell opposite Bucky, curling himself into Y/N’s right side. He nuzzled into her and closed his eyes for a moment, recovering.

Y/N turned her attention to the Soldier; a love-drunk smile painted upon her pretty lips. “Hi.”

He returned the smile but his eyes were dark and lust-filled. “Hey.” Reaching for her, Bucky cupped her cheek, the mechanical palm covering everything. She shivered at the cold and sighed as it warmed nearly immediately. “You having fun?”

She parted her lips to answer, but Bucky dragged his finger across her mouth and pushed it inside. Silenced, Y/N moaned and nodded before clamping her lips shut.

He bit his lip and watched her eyes roll as she sucked. “Fucking gorgeous, ain’t she, Steve?”

Somehow, he managed to lift his head and agree, sliding his gaze up and down her deliciously soft body. “Very.”

“You did a great job fucking her,” Bucky continued, pulling his finger free to let it drift over her flesh. “Got her all limp…” He dipped his hand between her thighs and Y/N arched up off of the mattress, squirming at the touch. “... and warm…” With a flick of his tongue, he caught her nipple in his teeth while dipping a finger into her cunt. She moaned loudly and Bucky grinned. “Just a mess, aren’t you?”

Y/N nodded again and clenched around his finger. “Yeah…”

“A sloppy mess.” He scooped a morsel of cum from inside and lifted it to her lips. “Open.”

She complied instantly, pulling his slick finger back into her mouth and sucking it clean.

“Don’t swallow,” he growled. “Steve needs a kiss…”

Steve hummed in interest and sat up on his elbows to reach her. She kissed him gently and his lips parted, accepting his own cum onto his tongue. He moaned at the tang of it and deepened the kiss.

Bucky whistled. “Taste good?”

The kiss broke and Steve set his eyes on Bucky. “Yes.”

“Hmm…” Bucky dipped back into the mess, this time licking it up himself. His eyes closed as he savored the familiar taste and leaned over Y/N to catch Steve’s lips.

They kissed above her, tongues darting out to mingle in the space between, and Y/N stared in awe as her pussy throbbed with renewed arousal. She reached down on either side of herself and stroked their cocks gently, dragging her fingers from base to tip before wrapping her soft hands around them both. Steve groaned into Bucky’s mouth and tried to pull back, but strong hands held him there. His face was caught in Bucky’s big hands, his eyes locked into the intensity of deep blue staring back.

“I think,” Bucky teased between licks at Steve’s mouth, “you should go clean up the rest of your mess…”

In an instant, Bucky’s right hand was tight around the back of Steve’s neck. He pushed his face down until his mouth was positioned over Y/N’s mound before easing up.

“Go on. Lick her clean.”

Y/N spread her legs wide as Steve crawled between them; sucked in a heavy breath as his tongue traced her slit. Her thighs shook and she squeezed Bucky’s cock tighter, stroking in time with Steve’s frantic licks.

Bucky sat up on his knees and Y/N’s vision went hazy. He was gorgeous- muscles gleaming with a fine sheen of sweat, his pink lips set in a hard line. His breath deepened as she ran her hand down his shaft and he let loose a gravely moan.

“Love your cock…” she mewed, biting her lip as he swelled thicker against her palm.

Bucky grinned and thrust his hips, jabbing the tip of his cock against her side.

Desperate tears welled in her eyes. “Please… please fuck me, Bucky. I need you so bad…”

Blue eyes trailed down her curves and locked in on Steve’s face. “Sorry, doll,” he sighed. “Not your turn.”

He left her with a kiss and disappeared, making her whimper in disappointment.

The cry was short-lived, however, and her breath stopped as Steve sucked a kiss to her clit and curled two fingers into her cunt. She rocked mindless Steven’s hungry mouth, feeling the pressure grow deep inside.

“Gonna make me cum again, fuck!” She squirmed on the sheets and grabbed at his hair as he swirled his tongue in quick, tight circles. “Steve!”

Bucky reappeared, standing at the foot of the bed behind Steve. His cock was slick with lube and his gaze was firm.

“Don’t you dare cum,” he warned. “Not until I say.”

Her thighs clamped tight around Steve’s head. “Fuck!”

Bucky ran his hand down Steve’s back. “Is that a yes?”

Her shoulders shot up off of the bed as the edge quickly approached. “Yes! Yes. No cumming!”

“Good.”

His attention turned to Steve and he gave his plump ass a swift tap. Without verbal prompting, Steve pushed his ass up and spread his knees, balancing on the foot of the bed while keeping his face stuffed blissfully in Y/N’s dripping cunt.

“Such a good boy, Steve,” he praised as he rubbed the head of his big cock against Steve’s hole. “Always so ready for me, aren’t you?”

Steve hummed happily and lapped at Y/N’s swollen lips. “Ready…”

Slowly, Bucky pushed inside, inching his way in as Steve melted between them. He was still for a long moment, lost in sweet sensations and rising bliss. His body eased open, perfectly trained and accepting.

Once fully seated inside, Bucky caressed the pert globes of Steve’s ass and gently rocked forward. Steve came back to life, his cock throbbing and his eyes rolling.

“God!”

Y/N laughed gently at his pleasured shout and stroked his cheek. “You look so happy right now,” she purred.

Chin wet with her juices; body full of his best friend, Steve grinned and licked his lips. His eyes were drifting and unfocused, and he gripped her hips as Bucky pumped into his ass. “I am,” he confessed, “so fucking happy.”

Behind him, Bucky growled and pushed up on his toes, shifting the angle just enough to make Steve’s voice fade and set his tongue to work.

Y/N was drowning again, thrashing against a wave of forbidden pleasure and stuck staring into blue eyes that pulled her down. Jaw dropped and drooling, moments from passing out, she pleaded with Bucky. “Please let me cum, please!”

A smirk tugged at his shadowed lip and Bucky slapped his heavy hand down on the small of Steve’s back, pulling him back as he jerked forward. Each of Bucky’s thrusts drove Steve’s tongue deeper into Y/N and she couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Please! God, fuck!”

 Feeding on her frustration, he stared darkly at her, making her wait, keeping her teetering on the dangerous edge. His own pleasure peaked and his upper lip curled into a sneer.

“Do it,” he groaned. “Cum with me, doll.”

 Her shout eclipsed Bucky’s deep grunts as he emptied into Steve’s ass. He let the man hang there, trapped between quaking orgasms as his cock leaked, untouched and aching. When Bucky finally pulled out, Steve shivered. He could feel every drop trickle down the back of his thighs and he went limp at Y/N’s feet.

Exhausted, Bucky scrubbed a hand down his face and crawled back onto the bed to take Y/N into his arms. She cuddled into him, still shaking and tingling.

“You’re incredible,” she cooed. Her tongue was tired, but she managed well enough. “Both of you.”

Unable to speak, Steve gave her a weak thumbs up.

Bucky dropped a kiss to the top of her head. “So are you.”

“I’m all sticky,” she announced with a laugh.

Again, Steve lifted his hand, this time waving. “Me too.”

Bucky sighed and sat up. “I guess it’s shower time, kids.”

Y/N jumped up and set off for the bathroom. Her legs ached and her pussy was sore, but it was worth every limping step. “Meet ya in there!”

Steve lifted his head and blinked at Bucky, still stunned and utterly spent.

“You coming?”

“Yeah, but-” Steve pushed up slightly and then fell back down with a laugh. “I think you’re gonna have to carry me…”

[maivolpe]

Peter Parker x female!reader (established relationship)

Imagine if Peter finally brought his gf to the tower

Everyone would be so happy for Peter, and tony would give her wanrjngs ofc

this is an alternate universe where the events of civil war never happened, but tony still called peter in. and let’s not talk about how i’m over a year late… life caught up to me. if you’ve stuck around, i appreciate you! thank you for requesting ♡

･｡ﾟ: ∘◦☾◦∘｡ﾟ.

pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader cw: mentions of anxiety, mentions of alcohol, threats wc: 1.4k

“honey, why are you fidgeting?” peter asked, gently grasping your fingers to keep you from pulling on the hem of your sweater.

you sighed, giving his hands a small squeeze. "i'm scared, pete. they're a huge part of your life. what if they don't like me?"

he laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "i promise they'll love you, bug. how could they not?"

you managed a wobbly smile, and concern clouded peter's face. "how about this, honey? if they don't like you, i'll quit. i'll pack everything up and leave. we're a package deal, yeah?"

he extended his pinky, prodding yours.

"no, that's so stupid. this is- you love everything about them, and this job. i could never make you do that."

peter wrapped his pinky around yours and grinned. "good, because it's not going to happen."

a small ding preceded the elevator slowing to a stop, and your heart once again raced. you knew it was stupid, you knew they wouldn't be anything but kind to you. and yet, the same little voice that told you peter was too good for you was talking.

it didn't have much time, however, because the elevator doors slid open.

in front of you stood a massive workshop, high-tech equipment stuffed in every corner. screens mounted high on the walls blinked with all sorts of blueprints, while robots scuttled across the ground and holograms of iron man suits twirled through the air. both vintage and sports cars lined the back wall, shelves stuffed with funnels, jacks, and batteries. old versions of iron man suits stood displayed across the workshop, all the way from the silver mark two to the flashy mark forty-five.

the real iron man was bent over a table saw in the middle of the workshop. he was clad in a ragged metallica shirt, grease smeared across his face as he ran a sheet of cherry-red metal over the blade. sparks danced up into the air at the contact, just missing his face.

“hey, mr. stark!”

the screech of the saw stopped, though tony didn't look up from his work. a scrap of metal clattered to the floor, and you cringed at the sound.

“hey, pete,” he said.

it was silent for a moment, and peter cleared his throat. tony’s gaze flicked toward you, and you offered him an awkward wave. his eyes widened.

“well jesus, spider-boy, you didn’t tell me you were bringing a lady!”

“sorry,” peter laughed. “this is mr. stark. mr. stark, this is…”

"oh, she needs no introduction!"

he leapt up from his desk, tossing his plastic safety glasses to the side before pulling you into an embrace. he smelled like smoke, and your eyes stung with it.

"nice to meet you, mr. stark," you said, muffled against the fabric of his t-shirt.

"nice to meet you, kiddo." tony leaned in close to your ear to whisper. "you hurt him, we hurt you."

you blinked. "um-"

"kidding, i'm kidding. but seriously," he said, straightening up and walking back to his saw. "don't try it."

"i-i won't."

peter shot tony a glare before taking your hand in his. "come on, bug, let's go meet the rest."

"bug? that's adorable. think i should try that on pepper?"

"shut up, mr. stark!"

peter led you across the floor, through a set of doors, and up a flight of stairs. when he ceased to hear your footsteps pattering behind him, he glanced back at you. you stood three or four steps down, mouth agape at the majesty of the space in front of you.

it was the floor of the avengers tower that you'd become accustomed to seeing, in the back of peter's selfies and facetime calls, but pictures didn't do it or its inhabitants justice. beautiful paintings were hung across the walls, antiquated weapons were illuminated in glass cases, and intricate centerpieces adorned a dark wooden dining table. bookshelves lined the hardwood floors, full of armor and games and magazines. light streamed in from frosted glass windows and glowed from lamps set in every corner.

the kitchen was just as impressive, overflowing with bowls of fresh fruit, all sorts of cutlery, and every cooking gadget you could dream of. some shelves were full of cookbooks and ingredients, others displaying china and cocktail glasses. the sleek silver appliances glinted in the sunlight, only compounding your overwhelming sense of just how expensive everything was.

the scarlet witch stood at the stove, stirring the contents of a pot that smelled heavenly. across the room, sprawled on an orange couch, was black widow. the opposite couch held sat captain america and the falcon, deep in conversation.

peter's voice echoed across the room when he spoke.

"hey, i, uh, brought you guys a friend."

every head turned, and suddenly, all eyes were on you. silence hung heavy in the air, and your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"well, don't stare the poor thing down," natasha said.

somehow, just like that, the tension was gone.

wanda smiled brightly from her spot in the kitchen, offering you a wave with her free hand. "i like your sweater!"

"thank you!"

steve rose to his feet and shook your hand firmly. "i hope tony didn't scare you too badly."

you chuckled. "no, he's just... a little intense."

natasha laughed, shifting to one side of the couch to make space for you. "that's a nice way of putting it."

you settled next to her gratefully, and she offered you a warm smile.

"he's going crazy because rhodey's not here to keep him in check," sam said.

"when does he get back?" peter asked. "i have an idea for a new attachment for his suit."

"he has a committee meeting in d.c.," natasha said. "he should be back in a week."

peter frowned. "why does he have to be gone for so long?"

"do not be upset that colonel rhodes has a job and you are unemployed," a new voice spoke from behind the couch.

you snickered at the betrayed look on peter's face.

the android floated around the corner, extending a vibranium hand. "i am vision."

you shook his hand. "nice to meet you."

peter didn't want to let the subject drop. "being spider-man is my job," he argued.

you saw your chance to tease him, and took it. "then where are those paychecks?"

peter's jaw dropped, and before you could protect yourself, he was lunging forward, fingers tickling under your shirt. you squealed and squirmed behind natasha, who stared daggers at your boyfriend until he backed down.

steve smiled. "i like you. you're good for the kid."

"yeah, he needs humbled sometimes," sam agreed.

the conversation continued around you, and while you didn't contribute much, they made sure to include you. you found you loved observing the avengers' dynamic, their quick banter and easy laughter captivating you. it felt like, well, a family.

wanda called to you from the kitchen, her voice pulling you out of your reverie. "i am making lunch, would you like a plate?"

you shook your head. "that's very kind, but you don't have to."

"no, i insist."

"trust her," sam offered. "she's a great cook."

you relented. "if you're sure, wanda, i'd love a plate."

everyone gathered at the kitchen table while wanda served up lunch. peter pulled a chair up next to you and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek.

"having fun?"

"so much," you smiled.

wanda had made dumplings, and they were indeed delicious. you were glad you had taken her up on her offer. they even seemed to sate peter's superhuman appetite- he sat back in his chair after only six.

tony passed through the kitchen, even dirtier than before, if that was possible. now a whole sleeve of his shirt was singed off. he grabbed a plate with stained fingers and loaded it with dumplings.

"these are great," he managed between bites.

"they're better if you chew them," steve mumured.

"hop off, old man. not like you could chew with those dentures anyways."

he finished his plate and set it on the table, grabbing a bottle of scotch from the shelf. natasha and steve exchanged looks while he poured himself a glass.

"underoos, do me a favor and bring your aunt over next."

he strutted out of the room before peter could let out an exasperated 'mr. stark!'

when you had finished your dumplings, peter cleared both of your plates and returned to your side.

"ready to go, baby?"

"pete, could we actually... stay a while?”

you swore you'd never seen peter as happy as he looked in that moment. he was positively beaming, eyes alight with pride.

"we can stay as long as you want, bug."

･｡ﾟ: ∘◦☾◦∘｡ﾟ.

ko-fi ♡

[deathbyathousandspiders]

“ cuddle–bugs. ,,

(( REQUEST FINAL PART. ))

mcu!peter parker x reader.

!!! read parts one | two | three | four here !!!

IN WHICH — the avengers wouldn’t let you and your best friend live down cuddling on the couch, but after an intense mission, you realized confessing to him was the only thing left to do.

✨masterlist✨.

2.1k.

Peter woke up suddenly, gasping, cold. Cold and unsettled, with heavy breath and urgency. He woke up recalling that Bucky made him leave you in the medical wing, knowing that he needed to get sleep. He remembered just how much he resisted, just how much he wanted to stay by your side. But the team knew he needed to rest just as much as you did. Still, he woke up knowing damn well that he needed to make sure you were alright.

Were you alright?

The question sent a splintering shiver down his spine, giving him only more motive to toss off his covers and get out of bed.

Stumbling to his feet, Peter fully fathomed just how much of a blur the past few days had been. He had nearly forgotten about how teasing Sam and the team had been, or just how nervous he was that his best friend was slipping through his fingers. He was practically in denial that the two of you hadn’t been on speaking terms before this mission.

Now, Peter was nervous for other reasons that you were slipping through his fingers.

Bruce had discovered just how lethal this winter–kissed poison was in the midst of you being unconscious. He’d said that the antidote wasn’t entirely stable yet, either. But it was between giving the antidote to you raw, or risking that your bloodstream freeze overnight. Either choice was a gamble.

So when Peter came across your empty bed in the infirmary, he was met with a sigh of relief. Still, he was restless as ever. He wouldn’t ease until he knew you were okay. Until he saw you for himself.

He peeled his head through the neckline of his crewneck, shaking off the chill of December as he walked. He paced down the empty early morning halls of the compound, each step quicker than the last as he searched for you. It wasn’t long before he found you, seated on the couch in the meeting room. The two of you met eyes immediately.

“What are you doing awake?” Both of you asked in unison, equally concerned for the other.

You stood from the couch, slow and sickly. You watched Peter as he stood beside you, arms carefully corralling around you in case you were to topple over. He seemed more focused on you than answering the question at hand. So, you answered first. “It was getting stuffy in there. I couldn’t sleep.”

Taking in Peter, you could tell he at least got a little bit of sleep. His curls spouted in eight different directions and his body still radiated the warmth of his covers. Despite how much his eyes studied you, they looked weighted by the ghosts of slumber. You could tell he was fighting them off. His presence was a lot more alert than anticipated for someone who’d just gotten shut–eye.

“Peter, why aren’t you sleeping?” Your voice came out gentle, eyes tracing him with worry. You, too, disregarded just how bitter the taste of his name had been for the past day. You’d forgotten that he said what he did, and quite frankly, you didn’t care anymore. Death seemed more hefty than a mere misunderstanding.

He blinked away the remainder of slumber, his body weight drawing closer to you. Perhaps it was the thickness of night, or just how dark the room was, but you could see just how little the space was between you. Inches kept you apart, but your warmth kept drawing the two of you together.

“I had to make sure you were okay.” Peter replied, his tone soft and sincere. He went to grab your shoulders, but he found himself tensing a bit at the contact. His eyes glanced down your body before catching your stare again. “You’re still cold..” His voice came out barely above a whisper just before tracing his hands down your arms slowly and cupping them around your own. He never broke eye contact as he breathed into them, trying to warm you up as best as he could.

The effort didn’t really change much about your condition, but the thought of it did warm your heart with how sweet it was. Then and there, through the dark, you swore you could see it. You could’ve sworn that he looked at you with admiration. You swore he looked at you lovingly. It was a look that shoved away every insecurity you had. The look reminded you of the vow you had made yourself the night before.

Taking a breath, you bit back your nervousness. “Peter, I need to tell you something.” Your voice almost came out a mere breath, but you could still hear the fragile nature of your tone.

The look Peter caught in his eye gave you the courage to keep going. “Yeah, anything.” His voice was so earnest, you could’ve kissed him right there.

However, you didn’t. The race of your heart and the shakiness coating your throat were already too much to handle. You swallowed your pride, needing to rip the bandaid off.

“Peter.” You took a beat, glancing from either of his eyes to try and gage his reaction. “I love you.”

And there, he smiled. Peter smiled at you in a way you wish you had photographed. He let out a small chuckle, squeezing your hands in his. “I love you too.”

You realized of course. Of course, Peter loved you. The two of you were best friends, and had been for as long as you could remember. Of course he loved you. And you did love him platonically, too. That just made all the more difference now to make sure he understood what you meant.

A smile touched your lips, letting out a gentle laugh. “Right. And I love you for that.” You started, “But I–” The words got caught in your teeth, hesitating. “The thing is, uh–” Should you even tell him? Was the friendship worth risking? Well, fuck, the words were already halfway out of your mouth. “Well, the difference is..” You made sure to breathe, “I’m kind of, sort of, a little in love with you.”

A shift. The air changed, and you felt it. You watched as Peter’s expression shifted, his eyes widening and his posture straightening out. All you felt inside was a scolding rush of panic. Watching the way his lips parted, you startled, just knowing that he was going to reject you.

So you kept talking.

“– And I don’t want it to change anything in the friendship!” Shit, you were talking fast. “In fact, if you don’t feel the same, that’s fine! Just don’t say anything and I’ll be on my way and we can just forget about everything in the morning!”

Peter squeezed his hands around yours again, his lips curling. “Y/N, I–”

You kept going.

“And—And with Harley–” You laughed a little, “God, I’m so sorry.” Head shaking, body quaking, panic still running rampant; you couldn’t think. “I just got so hurt that you didn’t want to kiss me, and I think I just wanted to make you jealous? But it’s stupid. You shouldn’t have to kiss me, or force yourself to, and sure as hell you shouldn’t get forced into a mission just to—”

Nerves had clouded your senses as you spewed off explanations, so much so that you hadn’t noticed just how close Peter got to you. You weren’t sure whether it was the feeling of Peter tracing his hands back up your arms that cut you off, or the feeling of his palms cupping your face. You stared up at him, scanning his face for any hint or look of detest or rejection.

What you found was the opposite. His hands cradled your jaw carefully, and Peter looked at you like the words he heard were ones taken right from his tongue. He looked at you with genuine wholeheartedness, and it made you feel like there was nowhere else you would rather be than right there in his touch.

“I do want to kiss you.” The words were so smooth, you swore he’d rehearsed it. It made your cheeks flush, not only because you were flattered, but it also felt a bit humiliating to have kept rambling when he could’ve just said so.

You stared at him, eyes widening for a second. “Oh.” Was all you could muster, quickly captured by the sight of his lips so close to yours. Perhaps, it was Peter who leaned in to close the gap, but you felt so eager to kiss him that you couldn’t keep track.

Kissing. You and Peter Parker were actually kissing. Finally. It was all smiles and sincerity and sickly sweetness. Hands around his body, holding each other close, it was absolutely beyond everything you could’ve dreamt for. It was perfect.

Peter broke back from the kiss, looking at you with a grin that said everything you wanted to. You both shared the same feeling, and it was wonderful.

“The thought I was planning to tell Sam the other day was that I didn’t want the whole team watching the first time we kissed.” His words immediately warmed your heart, and made you feel a little foolish for not hearing him out sooner. “I didn’t want our first kiss to have an audience.”

“It’s a little too late for that.”

The voice startled you so bad, you stared out at the figure like a deer in headlights– Well, it wasn’t exactly headlights, more than shuttered flash from a cellphone camera.

Shit.

Blinded from the light for a second, it didn’t take you more than a second to recognize the voice as Sam, and to notice that he was accompanied by someone. You heard Bucky chuckle beside him, looking at the photo. “That’s a good one.” He stated, “I’m making that my lockscreen.”

You and Peter held each other, in the dark, both looking out at Sam and Bucky. You both took the moment to catch your startled breaths.

“As much as I’m happy for you two love birds, could y’all keep it down?” Sam kept his voice quiet, yet still had a stern tone to it. “It’s three in the morning.”

“Yes sir!” Peter spat out quickly.

Sam and Bucky left soon after, both saying hushed goodnights before heading off to their rooms. You and Peter shared a silent laugh before Peter took your hand and guided you back to his room where the two of you could sleep. Together.

Which brought you to Christmas morning.

The entire team sat around the meeting room, opening gifts and sipping hot beverages. They were all gleeful and filled with gratitude. It felt so peaceful and warming to be a part of the Avengers. Which made it all the more conflicting when Sam handed out his gifts for you to open.

You held the large boxy gift in your hand, unsure whether to feel nervous or not to open it in front of the team. Still, when everyone else started to open their presents, you felt a bit left out.

Once the wrapping paper tore off your gift, you saw the photo Sam took of you and Peter in the thick of night, clinging to each other and staring at the camera in shock and surprise. The photo made you laugh, giggling to yourself as you read the post–it note stuck to the bottom.

‘Glad I could help you out ;)’

You fought back an eye roll before Peter called out to you across the circle.

He smiled at you, “Y/N, you gotta see this!” Peter gestured to the box on his lap. Curious, and mirroring his smile, you stood from your seat and walked over.

Confusion met your face when you saw that the small box was empty. “What exactly am I looking at?” Meeting his stare, you noticed the hand he stretched up above you, holding a piece of mistletoe overtop of the two of you. You didn’t even take a second before leaning down and kissing him, not caring who was paying mine to you.

You could hear some audible reactions from the group, some encouraging, and one annoyed and childish grimace from a little ways away.

“You and your cuddle–bug boyfriend need to get a room.” Bucky spoke with distaste. You and Peter both stretched your arms out to flip him off, kissing just a little more to get on his nerves.

“Shut the hell up, Bucky!” Sam responded back. You could feel the way that Peter smiled from the comment, laughing quietly.

Sam was right. He’s definitely invited to the wedding.

tag–list: @helen-on-earth @ellebutnotwoods @hufflepuff-n-fluff @petersparkerss @tommysfrog @zelzablues @mavex @thatmarvelchick19 @parkersmaterialgirl @justtuesdays @coralineyouareinterribledanger @abucketofweird @thievin-stealing @hawkinsavclub1983

[fairyhaos]

seventeen as their songs' choreographies

pls i binged their dance practices and then suddenly i was like "hey this wld make a good hc!!!!" so here we are. here's which svt song choreo (specifically just the dance movements) i think each member would be

masterlist

seungcheol

super. no, it's not just bc of the fits and stylings that he had during the comeback stages that he absolutely slayed, but the choreography itself feels weirdly like scoups: the power, the confidence and the martial arts-esque moves feel like him

jeonghan

fear. maybe a bit unexpected, but the choreo is almost dangerously beautiful and very jeonghan. it's the kind of beauty that's like watching someone's destructive downfall and being unable to look away

joshua

dream. he's just having so!!!! much!!!! fun!!!! during the choreography video but also. it's so fucking CUTE and makes me think of him like?? the swaying arms and the little bobbing up and down is adorable and He's adorable and oh lord i need to have a lie down bc it's just too cute

junhui

aju nice. the chaoticism of the choreo which looks all whirlwind-crazy before you realise that their cohesiveness is actually incredible is such a junhui thing actually. it's such a bright and messy and energetic choreo in the most polished way

hoshi

crush. the choreo has kinda gay, kinda sexy vibes and they make use of really clever positioning in triangles/ parallel lines to give it a really sleek, powerful feel. honestly it just feels like it has hoshi written all over it

wonwoo

thanks. so much of the choreo makes me think of waves crashing and falling—the canon movements, the arms, the rising and falling actions—and there's something so heart-wrenching and powerful about it.

woozi

hitorijanai. the slow gentleness, the delicacy, the arm movements that seem to connote something gentle and opening up to the world all make me think of him. woozi has always been like a fairy in my eyes, and this choreo embodies exactly that

minghao

don't wanna cry. the synchronisation and canon moves are off-the-charts levels of gorgeous. also the way they tell the story with mostly only their arm movements is mesmerising and beautiful and so elegant and yearning that it reminds me of minghao

mingyu

left & right. the choreography is just so fun to look at. like, you watch them dancing and you genuinely get an exhilarated feeling of utter joy bc the choreo is so fresh and fun and idk it just feels like a mingyu-esque dance to me

dokyeom

anyone. genuinely could Not take my eyes off this guy in particular whilst watching the choreo vid n it's bc he makes the moves look so clean, esp that part where they move the movement from the arms into the legs??? literally gorgeous.

seungkwan

mansae. the choreography is sharp and fresh and clean and sooo bright. you can positively feel the groove in the movements alone, and the way they change formation so seamlessly with such sharpness is such seungkwan vibes

vernon

clap. iconic dance practice moment aside, this rlly is unironically vernon cuz it's just such a funny and fun choreo. that part where they almost crawl across the floor has me giggling every time and the amount of body shaking is so funny to me

chan

_world. it's just- it's just a cute song with the cutest choreo ever. i don't know why it makes me think of chan oh lord but the little skippy steps that they do and the adorable hip popping is just soooo so dino coded to me

request guidelines

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[ikeubi]

i bet on losing dogs 🕷 jake sim

📰 t͟h͟e͟ ͟o͟n͟e͟ ͟t͟i͟m͟e͟ ͟j͟a͟k͟e͟ ͟f͟a͟i͟l͟e͟d͟ ͟t͟o͟ ͟s͟a͟v͟e͟ ͟y͟o͟u͟.͟ spiderman!jake 𝔁 fem!reader  ╱ inspired by gwen's fall in tasm ; major angst, (descriptions of) character death, and overall the regular mcu warnings

Jake Sim never turns his back on a promise he's made.

When you first found out he was New York City's Spider-Man, he swore to you that he'd keep you safe from the dangers that came with being associated with his masked persona.

Out of all the promises he's made, that was the very last one he wanted to break.

Yet here he was.

The masked boy was high on adrenaline as he chased after the villain Goblin among the multitude of buildings in the city.

His energy was beginning to wear off until Goblin tilted his glider to the side for the shortest bit of time, which was more than enough for Jake to catch your hair peeking out along with the look of horror seen in your eyes as the villain's gloved hand kept you from screaming.

The vigilante swung past the buildings faster and faster.

One building.

Another.

And another.

This went on until his enemy maneuvered his glider to the top of a clock tower, Jake making his way up with great speed.

For whatever reason it may be, the Goblin just hovered merely a foot away from the masked hero's spot on the tower, his metallic green mask covering the glances he took at the overly daunting, deep inside of the structure.

Jake eyed his movements nervously and with hesitation, his gaze going back and fourth between you and the villain.

You felt the hand clasped against your mouth move to cup your cheeks as the man's laughter boomed.

"What are you waiting for, spider boy?" you heard him taunt as he moved your face from side to side.

Your gut filled with dread about what the Goblin had up his sleeve and shifted your gaze to the hero clad in red and blue.

Jake seemed to be sensing that something about to happen was even worse than the present situation as he shifted to a more alert position, eyebrows furrowed behind his mask.

"Come and get her," he continued before swiftly pushing you off his glider.

Jake's eyes widened as he immediately followed your trajectory into the tall clock tower. "No!" he screamed as the Goblin's menacing laughter echoed through the nearly hollow space.

Jake despises how time painfully slowed down in these moments. Your last moments.

He hated how everything was clearer, how he could focus on the horror displayed on your face and the tears falling from your eyes for a seemingly longer period of time as you plummeted through the tower.

But he could save you, right? He's done it a few times before, and not once has he failed. What makes this life and death situation any more different?

You wanted him to save you. But time wasn't in your favor, nor did it slow down. You didn't have the pleasure of thinking positively and only of what was overt. And you were quite sure of one thing.

Jake Sim couldn't save you this time.

Death never scared you. The only thing that did was the thought of no longer being able to have dreams for your future with Jake, as well as being able to live them.

You didn't want to start fearing the pain. And so you closed your eyes for just a moment, and thought.

You once heard that when you die, the brain stays active for a final ten minutes, letting you relive the most memorable moments of your life. It brought you comfort thinking that you'd get to see Jake smile for a final time, because it wasn't just a hunch──you knew that those last ten minutes would be a period of time that the boy you loved purely consumed.

And so you opened your eyes.

The wind whistled past your ear, and you had a feeling that sooner or later, you'd be reaching the bottom of the building.

You sent one last painful smile towards your masked lover and mouthed the words you knew he would need to hear.

It's okay. I love you.

Jake's eyes pricked with tears as he read the words coming from your lips.

Realizing his pace wasn't going to meet yours soon enough for him to use his arms to save you, he extended his web shooter wielding arm and prayed as he pushed his middle and ring fingers down on the button and as the web formula shot out and clung to your sweater.

Time returned back to its normal speed. Jake thought he saved you and subconsciously smiled to himself.

That was until he heard it.

Crack.

Jake's face dropped as he watched your body go limp under his web, mere inches away from the ground.

His hands trembled while he pulled the white string back to hold you in his arms as he landed on the ground.

He quickly took the mask off his head and scanned your face for the slightest of twitches, searching for a sign that you were still alive.

"Y/n," his voice trembled as he shifted on his knees, hand pushing your hair back before using two fingers to check the pulse on your neck.

"No," he muttered to himself after a few seconds, unable to find a pulse.

Teary eyed and refusing to give up, he reached for your wrist to try and see if he could feel the pumping of blood from there.

Still none.

Other wrist.

None.

Chest.

None.

Maybe he can check your breathing?

No. None.

Stop.

Jake pulled back slowly after it sunk in that you really weren't breathing, that you really didn't have a pulse, and that he was really unable to save you.

His eyes rimmed with tears as he watched the color drain from your face against the deafening silence of the night's aftermath.

"No," he shook his head before shaking your figure.

"Y/n, wake up,"

"Come on,"

"No you're not dead. You're not,"

A cycle of words of denial continued until the dam finally broke and his tears rolled down continuously.

His sobs echoed through the clock tower. He couldn't let any more words out. His chest hurt and so did his throat.

As he broke down for possibly the first time in his life, the only thing he could think to do was hug your figure.

He stayed like that until dusk turned to dawn.

You were the one person Jake would've traded the world for just to keep alive.

And he'd never forgive himself or never forget how he kept the world safe in return for your life.

꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱ mail !

i may have gotten a little angst crazy with this one.....but i still hope it was good! writing this hurt a little though, lowkey :(.

© ikeubi 2024 ✿ do not steal, copy, plagiarize, or translate a̲n̲y̲ of my work!

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. ✍🏻 ✨

look, I'm gonna cheat a little and do top five clint, top five tony, and top five other character fics because I've written so many and I hate making decisions lol.

clint barton x reader:

to ashes after the snap, you track clint down and help him on his mission as the ronin. slow burn, angsty and I swear I'll update soon.

ride along a miscalculation leads to you needing to sit on clint's lap on the way home from a club, and the close proximity and the alcohol leads him to finally start making a move.

mile high stuck on a commercial flight instead of the quinjet, clint takes what he thinks is an ambien to help him sleep. it really, really isn't. (based on an interview with j.renner where he accidentally took a viagra on a plane). smut.

body heat the two of you get caught in a blizzard and have to huddle together in the backseat of the SUV for warmth. basically, the only-one-bed trope in a car. smut.

green light put simply, you peg clint.

.

tony stark x reader:

kinds of love (series) you move into the avengers compound after the events of civil war and find your connection to tony developing more than you ever thought it would.

as you're told tony asks you into his office with a game in mind (featuring toys, oral, orgasm denial and dom!tony)

firelight missing scene in age of ultron. you and tony bond while he fixes you up and every one else sleeps at the barton farm. fluff and light hurt/comfort.

strings you and tony have a friends with benefits arrangement that could be so much more if you were just willing to break the rules...

love in a hotel room tony invites himself into your hotel room after discovering just how thin the walls are between them.

.

other mcu x reader:

shards of glass (bucky barnes) as part of his amends, bucky tracks you - a former red room graduate - down. cue attempted murder (on your part) turned violent sex.

you look good in leather (peter quill) on your way to xandar, peter shows you just how much he likes the look of you in the ravager's uniform.

hell of a ride (peter quill) your first lesson driving the ship quickly turns x-rated.

colour me happy (wanda maximoff) a reunion during the years wanda's on the run. fluff and smut and body paint.

hold tight (wanda maximoff) she's very giving while wearing the strap.

[comicaurora]

Just finished rewatching first avenger and was kinda thinking about some of the detail diatribes. In the most recent, you said something about marvel failing to give Cap a real purpose in recent media, and now I can't help but think what could be a plausible motive. At some point I started thinking about superman and how marvel and DC have a tendency to parallel, and I was wondering if you think maybe Cap is Marvel's superman equivalent, in that he sets the bar? As a symbol of hope in a sense?

I'd say that's accurate. Captain America is a paragon with a capital P, and the best versions of him play that to the hilt. He won't just always do the right thing, he'll always find a way to do the most right thing. What he brings to the table isn't military experience or tactics, although on a basic power level that is most of what he can contribute to a fight - he brings an unshakeable moral compass and a clarity that cuts through the noise.

I think his portrayal in Earth's Mightiest Heroes does a very good job of getting that across. It's explicit that Cap is the team leader despite being the most underpowered fighter because he's just that good.

And it's not just lip service. Cap works as a leader because the Avengers trust him to lead them right - something that everyone else is too volatile or self-motivated to handle. For instance, Cap is one of the only people the Hulk unconditionally trusts, because Cap cuts through 100% of the bullshit around him and reads him like a book.

There are episodes where Cap gets depowered, weakened, captured, etc - none of it slows him down or makes him unable to contribute to the story. It's very carefully written to prove that the serum didn't make him Captain America, and its super-strength are not what he brings to the table, even if it does help him a lot.

Cap is characterized as a living legend, with all that entails - not a mythological hero with all their atrocities and downfalls, but an inspiration that sets a nearly impossible standard. He's a legendary hero, a paragon of goodness and nobility. He doesn't compromise his morals, he doesn't leave people behind, he will always choose the most heroic course of action no matter what it costs him. He's the definition of "hero" and all the heroes he inspired are constantly aware of how much he really does embody that legend.

The MCU doesn't know what to do with him because they're torn between "Iron Man has to be the most coolest specialest guy" and "the Avengers only exist onscreen together for five movies and they spend four of them breaking up" and there is absolutely no way to do Cap justice in that environment. I think Winter Soldier comes the closest, but of course we still only see Cap leading the B-team. If the MCU can't understand why it needs heroes, there's no way it'll understand why they need the hero.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Hi there ! Can I request Natasha Romanoff x reader smut? I thought maybe Natasha x virgin!reader first time OR it can just be Nat’s and reader’s first time. (Please make it super soft🥺🥺)

Okay but anon that idea is literally so cute wtf 😖💗 this is shorter than I intended it to be but I hope you enjoy it regardless 

Sidenote: mалыш means baby in Russian (to the best of my knowledge) 

Taking It Slow (Natasha Romanoff x reader)

Warnings: SMUT, afab reader, reader is a virgin, oral sex (reader receiving), mention of a safeword (although it's never used), soft top Natasha, bottom reader 

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" 

Natasha's brow was furrowed with concern as she leaned over you on the bed, gently brushing your hair from your face. 

"Yeah, I'm sure." You looked up into her loving eyes, knowing she would take care of you. "Just...take it slow, okay?" 

"Of course, mалыш." She pressed a soft and loving kiss to your lips before working her way down the rest of your body. Your jawline, neck, collarbone, none of it went untouched. She kept going until she got down to your thighs, where she settled herself between them. 

"If at anytime you want me to stop, just let me know, okay? Do you remember our safeword?" 

You nodded your head yes, to which Natasha clicked her tongue at you. "Honey, I need verbal confirmation if you want this to happen." 

"Yeah, I remember it," you said, anticipation building. 

"Good. Use it whenever you want to stop, okay? I don't want your first experience to be an uncomfortable one." 

"Okay, I will." 

Satisfied with your response, she began leaving kisses on the inside of your thigh. Occasionally you felt her nip at your skin, a sign that she was gently marking you up, leaving hickeys wherever her mouth would go. 

You sighed contentedly before letting out a series of soft moans as she moved her mouth from your thighs to your glistening pussy. She pressed gentle kisses on the sensitive area, and you could feel her smirk against your skin when you let out a sudden gasp at her lips moving up to your clit. 

She was toying with you, and you knew it; but you loved it regardless. 

You felt as she pressed feather light kisses to your clit, giving you just enough friction to feel it but not nearly enough to be able to properly get you off. 

As much as you wanted to grind up against her face, you knew you had to remain patient if you wanted to be able to truly enjoy this. You had waited this long, surely you could wait a little bit longer. Still, Natasha no longer teasing you and just getting on with it would certainly be nice.

"Nat, please." You whined, your hand going to rest on her head lightly. 

"Oh, sweetheart." She peered up at you from between your legs, a visible smirk on her face. "I suppose I have been teasing you a little too much, huh? Let me fix that." 

Before you could ask her what she meant by that, you felt her move her tongue along your already wet folds, eliciting a moan from you so loud your neighbors could definitely hear it.

At least she wasn't teasing you anymore, but that still meant you had a long night ahead of you. 

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[deathofacupid]

hello!! can you please do one with mcu peter parker where reader survived a bad mass sh00ting, and they're somewhere in the city, someone pops fireworks and reader gets scared cuz it kinda resembles gunshots and peter comforts her? thanks 🫶

promise | peter parker

hi, darling! thanks for requesting, i hope i did it justice! (this took a little longer than anticipated to get out, sorry!)

summary: the pain of the past is a tricky thing, even more so when it's traumatic.

warnings: mass sh00ting, themes of vi0lence,mentions of bl00d, g#ns/g#nshots, panic attack, ptsd

pairing: comfort!peter parker x hurt!reader

word count: 2.3k+ words

the festival is big, it's bustling with life. happy couples, children, and families roam the area, food in hand, smiles on faces.

lights stream from booth-to-booth, which there are row and rows of. you're walking hand in hand with peter, giggling about something he said.

after a long couple weeks, this is exactly what the two of you need. alone time (well, not really alone). just something to bring spirits up.

you pass by another couple, where a girl is holding the cutest teddy-bear. it's a soft beige, with darker laced bow around it's neck. he sees you eyeing it, grin on his face.

peter is thinking exactly this; "i'm winning that for her."

he drop your hand, to which you complain, and strides up to the couple. "hey, man. what booth did you get that from?"

the man looks up at peter, smile on his face, "all the way in the back, it's red, last row, i think."

peter nods, thanking the guy. he walks back over to you, grabbing your hand again. by the look on your face, he can tell you didn't hear.

he kisses your cheek, then pecks your lips. "wanna come find out?"

you nod like it's obvious, but peter likes teasing.

he's always liked teasing you- no, loved. he fell in love with the way your cheeks turned pink when he did so, all that power in his hands. somewhere along the line, he fell in love with you too.

if someone were to ask him when, he wouldn't know. he's always had that feeling for you, since the day you met. it just got stronger as time went on.

peter pulls you to the back of the large park where the festival is set up, all the way to the back. "peter!" you laugh, "slow down!"

you bump into many people along the way, apologizing to each one. but after a while, you give up.

he takes you to where the guy said it would be, and sure enough, there's a red booth, a row of teddy-bears in the prize cabinet. "i," peter declared to you, "am winning you that."

you squeal; you've got no doubt he can. "really?"

"yep."

you're already thinking of where to put it. the nightstand by your bed would look nice, or maybe the bookshelf. finally, you decide you'll keep it in bed with you.

peter steps up to the booth, and it's one of those ping-pong-in-the-cup ones. his spidey senses won't even make him break a sweat. he pays and the lady gives him three small balls. he weighs them in his hand, calculating how much force he'll need to use.

you're clearing excited, making him equally giddy. "ready, baby?" he asks, stealing a kiss for good luck.

"yeah!" you exclaim, with a clap of your hands.

peter glances at the cups, then back at the balls. he squints, aims, and makes the shot.

that's one.

"go, peter!" you cheer.

aims, and then makes the shot. it's almost too easy.

that's two.

he makes the shot.

that's three.

it's over so quickly, that the lady is suprised. nevertheless, she takes the bear out of the cabinet and hands it to peter, who in turn, hands it to you.

"aww!" you gush, "it's so cute!" throwing your arms arounf him, "thanks, petey," you nuzzle your nose to his.

"anything for my angel."

you kiss him, and hold the bear close to you. there's a small group of patio chairs and tables, and for the most part, it's empty. "can we sit down for a bit?" you asked, and then smiling, "not everyone has spider-man stamina."

he laughs, and you're sure it's the prettiest noise you've ever heard. you and peter move over there, and he pulls of your chair. "god," you half-swoon, "may really did raise you right."

"didn't she? i'm so charming. and chivalrous. and-"

"good in bed," you say, it's off-handedly, he can't help but blush. met by his silence, you over at him from across the table. "oh, sorry. i though we were listing things. you can't forget the most important one, can you?"

peter rolls his eyes, still flustered, "so you wouldn't be with me if it weren't for that?"

"hmm," you joke, drawing this out. it's fun, it's a distraction; you love it, and you love him. "well, it's cool you know tony stark."

"then go date him," peter says, playing along.

"maybe i will," you pull the bear to your chest.

peter makes a face, kicking you gently from under the table. "he's, like, 50!"

"well, maybe i like that. he can be my sugar-"

"okay, yeah, we're done. no- we're done."

"you sound jealousss..."

"no, i'm throughly concerned. mr. starks' about 30 years older than you!"

you sigh, "what about captain america?"

"that's worse! wait, you know he's a hundred-something, right?"

"even better. and he doesn't even look it."

"y/n. no."

"fine, fine- oh, wait! have you seen bucky? god, i just want him to bend me-"

"i don't wanna hear the rest of that sentence."

"i suppose i'll settle for spider-man," you say. "too bad he's not super-old and rich."

he kicks you again, and you giggle, falling into silence. you're having something of a staring contest with him, but you lost ages ago. your eyes trace his facial feature, and he's so pretty. you open your mouth-

"you're so pretty," peter says, leaning against his hand.

"aw. you stole my compliment. i was gonna tell you that."

"well, y'know, you still can."

"okay. you're more prettier."

"seriously? 'more prettier?' aren't you literally majoring in creative writing?"

"it's my off-day. now take the compliment."

"thank you. but you're the prettiest."

"you're max pretty times infinity. so... take that."

"and that's why you aren't a math major."

"boo-hoo. i win."

he sighs, long and exaggerated, "i can't argue with the basic, ever-true fundamentals of math."

"no, you can't."

you bicker back and forth, before you know it, it's gotten dark. peter scoots his chair next to you, arm slung around you. "isn't it nice?"

"what?" you asked, looking up at him through your lashes.

"spending some nice time together."

"oh. yeah. it is. it's been some time since we've had this much fun."

"mm. after this, do you-"

and it's so quick and unprecedented, you don't even notice it. it's a short pop, and instantly you've broken into a cool sweat.

because, god, it sounds so much like-

there's screaming. so much of it. it's never-ending, buring into your ears. it's everywhere, coming from everyone, and now it just sounds like a one big siren-y noise.

it feels like you're back there in a blink, feet glued to one spot as people run away.

"pe-peter," you choke, "you said- you said there wouldn't be fireworks!"

he looked around, almost frantic. "no, hey, breathe. the website said there wouldn't, and i double checked with the staff. it might be some kids-" he thinks that was the only one, but just a second later, loud pops and crackles go off - a whole series of them.

peter figures that it's some stupid teenagers down by the dock, which isn't far from here, but that's not his main priority right now.

his main priority is you.

you tune it out, the rest of his sentence because suddenly, it's not fireworks anymore.

you can see the bodies from where you're standing, darky, inky, red liquid spilling. they aren't bodies, not really, but lumps of clothing, a corpse inside.

you think you might be sick, but you can't feel anything.

or maybe you're feeling everything, but it's too much, so it doesn't feel like anything.

peter's holding you tight, you're aware of that, but you can't breathe. it's like your stomach twists itself into knots, like a rubberband being stretched and pulled.

your hands are clammy, your heart rate is speeding up, and your breath is getting shallow. you feel like you're going to burst.

honestly, it's not a great sensation. it's sickening.

you want to focus on what peter's saying to you - something along the lines of breathe - but you can't. you're sucked up into the past. but it doesn't feel like the past. it feels like the present.

someone knocks into you, and you fall onto your shoulder. you're wearing a sleeveless shirt, and your shoulder is rubbed up against the hard granite of the ground. you can faintly feel the blood that's there. though, you can't get it out of your mind that it's nothing like the body just 50 feet away.

you should move, probably, get up.

you can't.

you're frozen, all but for you're trembling breath, just as you were then.

peter grabs your chin, making you look at him. "y/n - can -" it's choppy, not enough to ground you.

and just like that he's gone again.

you never looked at any news reports, but you're sure that there were hundreds killed.

why weren't you one of them? it wasn't that you wanted to die that day, but it didn't seem fair.

children, parents, significant others, grandparents, babies...

they told you that you were lucky.

you don't feel lucky.

he squeezes your shoulders, "hey, hey, can you tell me three things you hear?"

you knows he's trying to help, but you want him to shut up. he seems to know this, but presses on, "three things you hear, angel,"

you're hyperventilating, "music," you choke out, it's the cheesy tunes, "the- the-" you're trying to think, "laughing, there's laughing. i h-i hear you."

"brave darling," he says, "can you do another on for me? two things you smell?"

"um," is it working? you can't tell. "food- food?"

"that's right," peter coos. "one more."

"your cologne."

"last thing, last one, lovie. one thing you taste."

"blood." it's short, you bite it out.

wait- blood?

"blood?" peter asks. he's concerned.

you swipe your tongue over your teeth, there's that distinct metallic taste. you bit your tongue, and you didn't even realize how hard.

he gently grabs your jaw, "no- hey, don't do that, my love."

you press your tougue against the roof of your mouth, trying to will the blood away.

peter wipes away a hot tear you didn't even know was there, "my love, breathe. you're safe, you're okay."

you bury your face into his chest, clutching his shirt. your hands are sweaty, but your lungs are doing there job better.

your breathing slows, and you're left sobbing. he tells you that it's okay, he tells you that you're safe. you know that in spider-man's arms you are, but it doesn't slow the cries.

his heart aches, seeing you like this. you've been getting help, but the hurt doesn't go away all at once.

peter knows this better than most.

he also knows that sometimes there isn't anything anyone can do to help (even though this is all he wants to do).

all he can do is sit there and hold you, let you know you'll be okay.

your crying stops, leaving you with hiccups. you're beyond glad that there isn't really anyone here, expect for an eldery pair. out of the corner of your eye, you can see they're concerned.

you feel like you can sense the dried blood on your shoulder, and you want nothing more than to scratch it away. you feel so filthy.

on impluse, you pull away from peter slightly, brushing that shoulder off. you can see the scar that it left, making you want to throw up. there's a patch of warm saliva that coats your toungue, and you can feel the burn in your throat, but barfing in public is the last thing you want to do, so you swallow it, gagging.

your head hurts, and suddenly, the festival isn't fun.

"oh, pretty girl, i'm so sorry," your tucked back into the safety of his hold, silent. "'s some dumb kids. i promise you, i had-"

"i know," you sniff. you're tried, exhausted.

"do you wanna go home?"

he reads you well, you think.

in response, you nod meekly. "okay, honey, we can go home. do you want a second?"

you shake your head; you wanna get outta here.

he helps you up, arm wrapped around your waist.

his main priority is to get you home, where you'll be content tangled in sheets. it's a quiet ride home, his hand is on your thigh, you're holding on tight.

you're asleep by the time he gets home, so he gently scoops you up, making his way inside.

peter sets you on the bed, going to the bathroom to get makeup wipes. he's sure you don't want to sleep in that.

it's the cool wipe that wakes you up, your eyelids fluttering open.

"petey?"

"hm? you're okay. we're home. 'm taking off your makeup." he pulls one of his shirts out from his drawer, moving back over to you.

"help me take this off?" he askes, tugging on the hem of your shirt.

you comply, and he takes it off, replacing it with one of his. you shimmy out of your shorts, and he tosses them somewhere, along with his own shirt. he quickly changes into something comfier, sliding into bed with you.

"feeling better?"

"yeah. i'm sorry- i-"

"don't you dare apologize," peter lightly scolds you, there's a soft type of stern in his voice.

you let your mouth fall shit, you aren't winning this. instead, you tuck yourself into his side, shielded from all your pain. when your so close to peter, all you can focus on is his scent, his love, leaving no room for everything else.

you sigh into his touch, and he holds you softly. "do you feel better?"

you're quiet, you don't have to put up a wall with him, because it's easy around peter. "yeah," you reply after a moment. "i feel better. 'm just tired now."

"okay," peter kisses your forehead, "then we can go to sleep, pretty girl."

to you it's a simple thing to say, it's sensible. to him? no.

to peter, it's a promise.

it's a promise that he'll always be by your side, that he's gonna be here to work it out, to put a smile on your face.

yeah, it's a promise.

[nostalgia-tblr]

#lmao as if you giving me “evidence” that he’s a poor meow meow changes the fact that he’s a prince#you all haven’t met many private school kids have you (the tags of @thot-son-of-odin)

The post u made abt loki having an ego to match thor's. Some ppl in the taggs listed why they think its false and havr "evidence"

Ah makes sense,,,,,I’m absolutely going to be thinking about it even more now :)

[bittenbyyou]

Inferior Flames (1)

MCU!AU | MCU!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader | MCU!Spider-Man x Stark!Reader

genre: enemies to lovers, angst, slow burn, lil cute moments

description: Your father wants you to knock Peter down a peg. OR Peter is bitter because you’re an Avenger and he’s not.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: Tony Stark being your father is already a warning as to how ridiculous he could be lol, mentions of Spider-Man: Homecoming, references from Captain America: Civil War, idk where this would fit in the MCU timeline per se b/c I’ve only recently started watching all the Marvel movies. 

a/n: maybe it’ll be a series? idk, if you like it, lemme know!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“Firefly, I need a favor.” Your father plopped onto the couch next to you, so you paused your show with the TV remote.

“What is it?” you asked, turning your body to give him your undivided attention.

“You know Spiderling, Spider-Boy?”

“Peter Parker, Spider-Man? Yes. How do you still not know his name?”

“My names are better.”

“Uh huh. Wait, he’s the one that rejected your proposal to become an Avenger.” You nudged him with your elbow, flashing a smirk.

“No, no. I don’t do rejection.”

“But he did turn you down.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to alleviate his frustration. “Sure. Whatever. Anyway, the kid wants to be an Avenger now. Been texting Happy nonstop about when’s the next mission and he’s wanting to see me tomorrow.”

You blinked twice and stayed quiet, a blank stare on your face as to why this was an issue. When he didn’t say anything, you gestured for him to elaborate.

“I don’t think he’s ready,” he added, crossing one arm over the other.

“You’re serious? Dad, you’ve never shut up about him ever since you gave him the suit. Even when I was abroad, I’ve seen what he can do. He’s amazing. You wanted him to be an Avenger.”

“I’m aware. But he said no and now… the ball is in my court.” The shit-eating grin on his face was soon replaced with a chuckle that sounded almost sinister.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, he turned me down and now he wants me back. God, I’m making him sound like an ex-girlfriend.” He shivered in disgust and you rolled your eyes. “Anyway, I get to turn him down now. It’s great.”

“So you’re turning him down because he turned you down first. Petty much?”

“Hey, that is not what’s going on here.” He turned his attention to the paused TV screen instead of meeting your judgmental gaze.

“Dad, that’s exactly what you’re doing. You’re really letting your pride stop you from recruiting someone as amazing as Spider-Man? Let Peter join.”

“What, are you in love with him or something? You think he’s so amazing?” he asked while doing jazz hands at the word “amazing.”

You wouldn’t call it love; it was more along the lines of admiration. During your time abroad, your father filled you in on all his adventures and antics so if anything, it was his fault as to why you were somewhat enamored with Spider-Man. Deep down, you knew your father adored Peter, so it was only natural you did too.

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“You can’t date anyone until you’re 21.”

“I’m telling Mom you’re being ridiculous.”

“I already told your mom and we’ve already established that I’m ridiculous,” he said proudly, as if it was a badge of honor.

“You told me you were proud of his decision to lay low.”

“I am. I was. But now the tables have turned and what kind of person would I be if I let him in so easily? The others think I’m crazy recruiting a 15 year old.”

“16 now actually,” you corrected.

“God, this is like deja-vu.”

You giggled. “I’m the same age as him and you’ve been wanting me to join too.”

“Don’t remind me. You were the first person to ever turn me down and I’m still recovering. I’m waiting for you to crawl back and beg me, saying ‘Dad, please! Let me be an Avenger!’ Like the kid is doing now,” he said, using a high-pitched voice when he was imitating you.

“Good luck with that. I have no interest in being an Avenger.”

“See,” he said, pointing his index finger at you, “that right there is why I need your help.”

You crossed your arms in the same way he did, skeptical of where he was going with this. “Go on.”

“I want you to pretend to be another recruit who wants to be an Avenger. I’ll tell him there’s only one position and make him work for it.”

“Dad…” you said sternly.

“What? He doesn’t know you’re my daughter. And I’m trying to protect him too. The kid’s been going off doing things on his own and not thinking clearly. He can wait on becoming an Avenger.”

“He stopped Vulture. He kept looking for those weapons when no one else would.”

“He’s reckless.”

“You’re using me to make him jealous.”

“A little,” he said with a shrug. “But I’m also looking out for him.”

“Uh huh.”

“He’s coming here tomorrow and I want you to battle him. If he beats you, he’ll get to join.”

“This is so stupid.”

“It’s genius, really.”

“You’re making a kid fight for something that you already want to give him.”

“No. Not yet.”

“You know he can’t beat me.”

Your father leaned in and pecked you on the forehead. “Exactly. Him losing will help him work harder to be better. This’ll give him that push he really needs. So will you help me?”

“Let me get this straight. You want me to fight Peter Parker and make sure he loses just so he doesn’t get to become an Avenger even though deep down, you want him to be one?”

“Precisely.”

“That’s the stupidest idea ever. And it’ll hurt his feelings.”

“No, it’ll build character. He needs to understand it’s not that simple. You can’t ask to become an Avenger and get it.”

“... But he can… because that’s what you wanted in the first place.”

“He turned me down so it’s only fair that he proves to me how much he wants it. Like a test. I’m testing him.”

“No. Dad, I’m not doing that.”

“I’ll enroll you in school right now instead of waiting for the following year.”

You sighed, contemplating his ridiculous proposition. He had adopted you when you were 10 on one of his missions overseas and has kept you a secret from the public. As much as it pained him, he could not bring you home right away because you required guidance on using your powers responsibly. You had to remain abroad for a while longer until the adoption forms went through and your mentors felt you were ready to leave the tiny village where you resided.

However, he and his wife Pepper, kept in touch and always checked in. He showed up every birthday and made it his mission to be a part of your life. Now that you were in high school and your powers were restored, he flew you into New York City right away.

It’s been a few months since your transition and you absolutely loved it. The Avengers who resided in the compound were very welcoming and so far, they were the only ones who knew of your existence along with your mom. Your father had yet to announce your identity to the world because he didn’t want the spotlight to overwhelm you. Originally he planned on having you relax a bit and then enroll you in public school next year, but going earlier was enticing to you.

“... Which school?”

“Spider-Man’s.”

“... Fine.”

“You do have a crush on him.”

“Shut up, Dad.”

The next day…

Upon entering the foyer of the Avengers Compound, Happy led Peter to where Stark was. The man stood in the middle of the main entrance hall, sporting a classy suit and sunglasses. Peter clenched his fists in determination, carefully reciting the words he wanted to say in his head since the car ride over.

“Hey kid. What do you want?”

“Mr. Stark,” he squeaked. He shut his eyes in humiliation, clearing his throat and lowering his voice a bit to sound more confident. Once his eyes fluttered open, he puffed out his chest and said, “I changed my mind.”

“You changed your mind,” Stark deadpanned.

“Yes. I want to be an Avenger.”

“You understand why I’m skeptical.”

“Um… yes, but—”

“Look, you turned me down last time and am I used to rejection?” Peter opened his mouth to answer but was immediately cut off. “The answer’s no, but I respected your decision. All that talk about looking out of the little guy—great—so what changed?”

“I’m ready for more than that now.”

“No, you’re not.”

“That’s not what you thought when I took on Captain America,” Peter argued.

“Trust me, kid. If Cap wanted to lay you out, he would’ve.”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows at the realization that he got off easy, questioning his entire existence.

Stark pressed his palms together and pointed at him. “You really want to be an Avenger?”

The boy nodded eagerly. “Yes.”

He inhaled sharply through gritted teeth. “See, here’s the thing: there’s someone else.”

Peter’s face fell, heartbroken at the thought of being replaced. “What—What do you mean there’s someone else?”

“Well, after you turned me down, I recruited someone else. If you really want to be an Avenger, prove to me you’re better than her.”

“Wait, her?”

“Yeah. You think you got what it takes?”

“Well it’s rude to attack a lady—”

“No. Gender equality’s a thing, right? You beat her up, she beats you up. You both end up in casts—”

“Casts?!”

“Suit up and let’s go.”

With no other choice, Peter obeyed and did what he was told. His thoughts were racing at the thought of battling someone to prove his worth. But this was his dream and he had to get out of his own head. After he finished suiting up, Happy led Tony and him to the outdoor training area that featured a wide-opened space with reinforced surfaces.

It had strategically placed obstacles to encourage agility and tactical thinking during battles. Additionally, the area incorporated holographic projectors to create any virtual landscapes to simulate specific scenarios for the Avengers to train in.

And that was where Peter’s eyes landed on a figure in the distance. You, who was practicing your combat skills with a large kung fu spear. The way you moved was calculated, graceful, like a beautiful yet deadly dance. You performed many high kicks and flips, mesmerizing Peter as your hands maneuvered the spear so flawlessly around your body. Your father and Happy watched you, proud smiles plastered on both of their faces.

“That’s who you’ll be battling today,” Stark said, clapping his hands together once to catch your attention. You stopped what you were doing and landed in a perfect split with the spear parallel to your body, noticing your father and Happy’s presence. You got up and rushed over, your eyes quickly finding its way to the boy in the iconic red and blue costume.

“Hi D-... Mr. Stark. Happy.” You turned to Peter, loving the fact that he didn’t have his mask on yet so you could finally meet him as him. He was far cuter in person, you weren’t going to deny that. “I’m [Y/N].”

Your dad wanted this “test” to be authentic, so you couldn't tell Peter you were, in fact, a Stark. Plus you didn’t look like a Stark anyway, with you being adopted and all. It’d be a cinch.

“P-Parker, Peter. Parker Peter—I mean, Peter Parker,” Peter said softly, shaking your hand. God, you were so pretty that it made him a fumbling mess. He wondered if you two were the same age.

“Great. Now that both you kiddos are here, you both know what you have to do, right?”

You and Peter looked at each other and exchanged awkward smiles. “Mr. Stark, I’m not comfortable battling a… um…”

“Girl?” you finished. “I’d be more worried about yourself, darling.”

The way the word “darling” rolled off your tongue caused Peter’s face to redden like a cherry.

“I’m not saying girls can’t battle, I’m just saying I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Are you going to hold back if the enemy is a woman?”

Peter opened his mouth to say something but to no avail.

“You said you wanted to be an Avenger. There’s only one position available, so we’re going to be testing you both. Happy will launch the simulation sequence and then you two will be fighting one-on-one,” your father explained.

“Good luck,” Happy said, trying hard not to laugh. The two men walked a safe distance away where they could observe you both.

“What’s the simulation sequence?” Peter called out before putting on his mask.

“We’re going to be launching drones at you,” Stark called back from afar with cupped hands.

“Drones?!”

“Yeah, we want to see how much you’ve improved!”

“In 3, 2, 1!” Happy shouted as he pushed some buttons on his phone.

You and Peter both stared up at the sky as a swarm of drones lined up in a similar fashion as the game Space Invaders.

“May the best Avenger win,” you said, sending him a wink. He laughed nervously as you immediately launched yourself in the sky. Peter gasped in awe.

“She can fly?!”

Hovering in front of the drones, you closed your eyes and pressed your index and middle fingers together, forming a "V" shape. Bringing the fingers perpendicular to your forehead, it felt as if you were beckoning an unseen force. With unwavering focus, you opened your eyes, and the spear you held multiplied tenfold, floating effortlessly beside you. Extending your arm forward, you pointed confidently at the drones, issuing a resolute command for the spears to launch their attack. Explosions scattered throughout the sky as you managed to wipe out half the drones with one attack.

“And she can multiply things. Great,” Peter huffed, launching a web at one of the drones to join you.

“She’s going to destroy him,” your father said, chuckling to himself.

“Kid, come back. Don’t be such a sore loser.”

Peter shook his head while removing his mask, muttering self-deprecating thoughts to himself at his performance. You watched as he walked away, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Did I go overboard?” you asked, a tinge of guilt eating away at your conscience. Your father chuckled and waved off your concern with a flick of the wrist.

“No, you did great. He’ll be fine.” He went after Peter and placed a hand on his shoulder to prevent him from going any further. “Hey. You put up a good fight.”

Peter spun around, exasperated and using his hands to express his frustration. “I lost. There was no way I was going to win. She can fly, she can multiply things, she can use telekinesis, she can breathe fire—is she part dragon? How was I supposed to compete with that?!”

You saw him pointing at you from afar, giving him a small smile but was only reciprocated with a frown.

Tony put on a contemplating face. “Is she part dragon…?” he mumbled. “Anyway, I told you that I had to find someone else after you said no. And she’s earned her place. I’m sorry you’re disappointed, but you lost fair and square.”

“But—”

“No buts. You aren’t ready. So lay low, be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and work your way up. Go to school, focus on classes, and finish that homework you’ve been putting off.”

“I don’t need to go to school.”

“Yes. You do. Even she goes to school,” Stark said, pointing over in your direction.

You went over to where Happy was, your eyes still glued on your father and Peter. “Happy, he looks so heartbroken.”

“I know. But it’s for the best. Kid’s too eager and knocking him down a peg might do him some good.”

“I feel bad.”

He patted your back and gave you a reassuring smile. “He will be okay. Your father appreciates your help.”

You immediately straightened your posture when you saw Peter come over with your father.

“Anything you want to say to [Y/N]?” your father asked, giving Peter a gentle nudge from behind.

“Congratulations,” Peter said, mustering up as much strength as he could to give you a smile. Because he really was happy for you, but it hurt for him. The smile didn’t reach his eyes and the pitiful gaze in yours wasn’t helping.

“Thanks. You did really well.”

“Yeah, but I have all the bruises,” he joked, pointing at his face in a circular motion. You took a step forward and placed your palm out in front of his face.

“May I?”

His eyes widened in confusion, but he nodded anyway. An ember glow emitted from your hand and all his bruises healed in a matter of seconds.

“You can heal people too? What on earth can’t you do?” Peter was both fascinated but also very annoyed at your perfection.

“I can only heal minor bruises,” you said quickly.

“Of course,” he muttered.

“Happy, take him home for me.”

“Got it. Come on, Peter.”

“Bye Peter,” you said, giving him a shy wave. He only gave you another meek smile before walking away. You glared at your father, who only let out a sigh of relief.

“Great job, kiddo.”

The next day at school Ned practically crashed into Peter, who was at his locker minding his own business.

“Dude, dude, dude!”

“Whoa, what is it, Ned?!” Peter said, a hand on his chest from the sudden heart attack that was his best friend.

“There’s a new girl and she’s so cute. Have you seen her yet?”

Peter closed his locker shut, wracking his brain for a moment when he saw an unfamiliar face today. “No, I haven’t. What’s her name?”

“Uh… I can’t remember. Was it [wrong name]? Or maybe [another wrong name]?”

Peter looked down the hall and somehow amongst a cluster of students, he spotted you walking towards him. Like a moth to a flame, his eyes somehow went straight to you and only you. Irritation overcame him as he remembered the battle from yesterday. How you beat him so effortlessly, so ridiculously cool and being all perfect. And now you’re at his school? What, were you mocking him?

“Ned,” Peter said, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Is that her?” He pointed at you and nodded his head in your direction.

Ned looked over in your direction and snapped his fingers. “Yeah! That’s her.”

“Dude, that’s the girl,” Peter muttered.

“Huh? What girl?”

He thought about how he sulked on the apartment balcony, venting to Ned about you. “The… girl… remember what I told you over the phone yesterday?”

It took a few seconds, but Ned’s brain finally clicked. “She’s the one that beat you? Her? Oh my god, you didn’t mention how cute she was!”

“Will you keep your voice down? She’s coming this way!” Peter opened his locker again and hid his face behind it. Ned shook his head in disapproval.

“Are you embarrassed? Come on. Challenge her again.”

“I can’t.”

“I’ll do it for you.”

“No, dude, stop. You aren’t supposed to know about her. Mr. Stark will kill me.”

“But she goes to our school.”

Peter hid his face in his locker until you finally passed. He let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling like he had dodged a bullet. That was, until Ned shouted out, “Hey! New girl!”

You stopped at the familiar label people were referring to you as. Once you turned around, you saw Ned’s huge smile while Peter still cowered in his locker. The boy you were walking with scoffed at Ned’s boldness.

“You don’t need to engage with them. They’re nobodies.”

“That’s not very nice, Flash,” you said, frowning at his poor choice of words.

“If we’re nobodies, why is she friends with Peter then, huh?” Ned exclaimed loudly. If a black hole could open up and swallow Peter whole, now would be the time.

“What, you know Penis Parker?” Flash asked you, incredulous at the new information. Peter carefully pulled his head out of his locker enough to take a tiny peek at you. He wondered what you were going to say.

“Yeah. I know Peter, Flaccid Flash,” you replied, bumping into his shoulder deliberately as you made your way over to Peter and Ned. The entire hallway filled with laughter at your stinging remark.

“Hi. I’m [Y/N]. I think we maybe got off on the wrong foot. How about we start over?”

Peter looked at your extended hand as if it was a foreign object, standing still as a statue. When his brain finally registered what you said, Ned had beat him to it, shaking your hand so fast like he was in the presence of royalty. “We would love to start over. I’m Ned. Peter’s best friend.”

You let out a laugh. “Hi Ned. It’s lovely to meet you.”

Without thinking, Peter grabbed your other hand. “Come with me.”

You didn’t have time to react and he led you to the nearest empty classroom, thankful class hadn’t started yet.

“What are you doing here?” he interrogated, letting go of your hand. You leaned against the wall, crossing one foot over the other.

“I go to school here now?”

“But why here?”

“Because… it’s a nice school?”

Peter placed a hand on his forehead, his jaw clenched as he thought of what to say next without sounding like an ass. “Look, you beat me and you’re an Avenger fair and square. I’m happy for you, really.” His words became soft and broken towards the end. “But seeing you reminds me that Mr. Stark will never be impressed with me. So can you give me space?”

His voice was frail but sincere. You got off the wall and gave him a nod. “Okay. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Thank you.”

Before Peter could leave, you asked him one last question. “Sorry, but could you tell me where gym class is? I have it first period.”

It took everything in Peter not to curse out loud. He had to fight back his bitterness and said through gritted teeth. “Yeah. I have it first period too.”

You smiled to yourself, trailing closely behind him as he led you both to your first class. Together.

Reblogs and thoughts are appreciated! Thank you!

Update: I might be in the middle of writing a part 2. :) Your support means a lot!