#mrs wilson SUCKS

[kh3finalmix]

the only character i don't feel bad for right now though is mrs wilson and the first mate guy

[dxxdhood]

convince me

pairing: wade wilson x gn!reader

summary: deadpool forced me to write smut where the two of you act out the position you see in an,,,, ahem,,, erotic video.

tags: smut (18+), fingering, penetration, slight degradation, finger sucking, dom!wade wilson, sub!reader

wc: 1.2k

“Babe, listen, the mistake we made was going to White Castle sober.”

“Excellent defense, Mr. Wilson. You ever think about switching to a career in law?”

“Can’t, my tagline doesn’t transfer across professions. Calling yourself the Lawyer with the Mouth is like saying you’re the fanfic writer who’s horny.”

He manages to make you chuckle, as usual, even though you were supposed to still be annoyed about your frankly terrible dinner. But walking back into your apartment has you less inclined to hold grudges, somehow. It’s probably the promise of cuddling up in bed together. Either that, or it’s all the hilarious nicknacks Wade keeps dropping off in your living room. The fucked-up Pikachu plush where the eyes and cheeks are swapped is particularly getting to you.

“Wait for me in bed, alright?” you say.

“Oh?” Wade waggles his non-existent eyebrows. “Is this little cutie planning something?”

“Yeah, planning to spend an hour in the bathroom,” you shake your head and fail to hold back a smile. “Find us a good movie to watch while I’m out.”

.

To nobody’s surprise, you both end up on a site that starts in p and ends in hub.

“Nobody can get into that position,” your inner critic bursts out of you at the best of times. 

You can feel Wade smirking from where his face is tucked into your neck, cuddling you from behind. “Well, in the words of Clue 1985,” he runs a scarred hand down your waist. “Sure, they can. Let me show you.”

He nips at your neck, kissing at the sensitive skin of  your jaw. You exhale, trying to calm the burning sensation building in your gut, but you struggle to stay patient when he starts sucking a bruise into your collarbone. 

“Wade!” you gasp, trying and failing to stop your body from grinding your ass against him. He responds in turn, moving closer to you, his hard cock slowly rubbing against your ass.

He flips over, now perched on top of you and caging you in, arms on either side of your head as he kisses you. Every time he deepens the kiss, makes you feel like you’ll never want to come back up for air, he fucks with you by biting at your bottom lip or scratching his teeth against your gums. 

You bang your fists against the mattress a few too many times, understandably annoyed with his teasing, so Wade grips both of your wrists with one hand and holds them above you, plastering them to the headboard.

The action has you moaning into his mouth, and the bottom half of your body continues to move on its own, grinding against the air now. You feel so desperate, your face heats up thinking about how much of a mess you already are for him. Wishing he would close the new gap between your bodies, you arch your back off the bed, trying to feel more of his body against yours.

He giggles, watching you wriggle around. “Hold your horses there, cutie. We’re not even at the good part yet.” 

Wade brings a hand up to your face, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. You’re so thrown off by the sudden show of affection that you don't even process him slipping a rough finger into your mouth.

“Suck,” he commands. And something about Wade only using a single word when he’s usually so noisy has you whining as you circle his finger with your tongue.

His big brown eyes are glued to your lips, watching them worship his finger like he’s all you’ve ever wanted. Around the time you start bobbing up and down his finger, he slips it out of you and pats your cheek.

“Good baby, such a good slut for me,” he whispers as he slides your shorts and underwear off in one motion. He slicks up the finger and you with a small bottle of lube and carefully starts slipping into your entrance.

“What? Where’d you even–” you snap your gaze sideways to your bedside table, which is curiously unopened. 

He taps the front pocket of his pants, “Never leave home without it.” Did he really always have that in his pocket? At the fucking White Castle?!

He talks as he fingers you, pressing against your walls casually as if he isn’t making you lose your mind. “You look impressed, babe. Tell me you’re not impressed.”

“Oh my god, shut up!” you groan as he reaches deeper inside you, adding another finger and stretching you further.

“As you wish,” he pumps his fingers at a faster pace, gripping your hip with one hand and bringing his face to your chest so he can lick at a nipple. A spark shoots down your spine and you can feel him chuckle as your body starts to shiver.

His fingers are pounding against your insides. You can feel yourself throbbing around him, clenching and wanting more, so he adds a third finger and fucks you at a punishing pace. You bite your own lip to keep back what was going to be an embarrassing moan, but he nips at your nipple and you let out a small shout.

Just as he finally starts reaching at that spot in you that has you seeing stars, he slips his fingers out. You're going to berate him for throwing you off just as the pleasure was building, but he already has his cock placed at your entrance, so close to sliding in.

“You ready?” he whispers, and you nod so quickly you think you may have pulled a muscle.

 He releases a breathy moan as he slides all the way in you, reaching right where you need him but still stubbornly not giving it to you.

“Wade, move!” you cry. He responds by smacking your ass and pulling you into his lap. You’re seated on his thighs as he throws your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half as he starts thrusting in and out of you. The position has you feeling so much closer to him, like he has free reign to stroke every part of you.

You grip onto his shoulders and try to interlock your ankles together to help you hold onto him as he pumps his cock into you faster. Wade moans so deep it sounds like a growl and you clench around him at the sound.

“Fuck!” he cries before kissing you, harshly making out as his hips continue to piston inside you. You can feel the vibrations of his moans against your own mouth, and it’s enough to make your muscles twitch around him again.

“Shit, Wade,” you whisper. “I’m going to–”

“Yeah, babe?” he says in between kissing you. “Go, do it. Come for me.”

You rip away from his mouth and release with a moan, your entire body burning as you quiver around his cock. He leans his head into your neck and bites down on the juncture between your neck and shoulder as he comes, filling you so completely you never want him to leave. 

You finally come down from your orgasm and relax in his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Wade is still panting, but he keeps kissing across your face, smiling when you reciprocate and kiss his forehead. 

“You’re making every thought that passes through my head sound like an ABBA song,” he whispers, eyes closed.

“That might be the closest thing to a love confession I’ve gotten out of you.”

[yoditopascal]

Like A Prayer (Part 2)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warning: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

a/n: I wanted to get up to the part where you finally meet Logan but it was too long 😭 and I ended up deciding to split the chapter up. In the mean time I hope this enough to tide you over. <3

tag list: sorry if you weren’t tagged I tried tagging everyone that asked but some usernames didn’t work! @allmyn1ghts, @blooket-scares-me, @amararosesblog, @talanyra, @spideybv28

Previous Chapter//Next Chapter

Wolverining is Hard

When you come to, your arms are tightly secured behind your back. Sitting up you try to take in your surroundings as you wiggle around trying to free yourself. The room you’re in is dark with a metal table and a singular chair in the middle and smelled strongly of disinfectant.

Just as you felt like you were making progress with your restraints, really you had just dislocated your hand, a door opens up on your right flooding your vision with a blinding light.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Came an accented voice, it sounded British. Just as your eyes had started to adjust to the light you were harshly hoisted up to your feet and dragged away into another room before being dumped unceremoniously at the feet of a pair of red and black boots

“Pookie you’re alive!” said Wade dressed in a new and improved Deadpool suit. Where did he get that? You thought to yourself. “I thought these TVA fucks ate you or something!

Helping you to your feet Wade pats you on top of the head before gesturing between your restrained hands and a guy holding what looked like a giant remote in his hands.

Rolling his eyes the guy snaps his fingers and you’re manhandled again as your restraints are roughly yanked off.

Taking in your surroundings you notice you’re in what looks to be an office with office workers and a floating platform above it. On the platform, where you all were standing, are a bunch of monitors all showing different scenes of you and your friends.

“Where are we Wade? What is this place?” You asked confused as you rubbed at your sore wrists, getting closer to him.

“You, baby girl, have just been upgraded to first disciple! Congratulations!” He said jokingly, just as he was about to say something else he was interrupted by an accented voice, the same one you had heard before.

“As you can see Mr. Wilson your friend is alive and well mostly well.” Said the man from behind Wade with the British accent, he eerily reminded you of Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice. Frowning, the man watched you with a disgusted expression as you flicked your hand popping your wrist back into place as you sucked in a breath in pain. You had definitely dislocated it earlier.

“Now as much as I hate to cut the reunion short it’s time for her to go back home.” He said snapping his fingers again, suddenly you're surrounded by men in body armor again, one reaches out quickly to grab you but you stumble back into Wade who pushes you behind him.

“Wait wait wait….you’re just gonna send her home? To die?” He turns to ask the man behind him. He could feel you pressed against his back, like you were trying to get under his skin. You were scared and he couldn’t blame you, you still had no idea what was going on.

“Die? What are you talking about?” You asked looking back and forth between the man and Wade until a gloved finger fell on your lips silencing you.

“Shush child Marvel Jesus is talking.”

“What the fuck?” You whispered, pushing his hand away.

“You can’t send her back Paradox.”

“Oh I can and I will.” The man, Paradox, had said as one of his armed men came up to him handing him one of those electric baton stick things you had seen earlier. You immediately tensed up, as he started to approach you with it, not knowing what it would do to you on contact.

“No wait wait wait please just hang on a fucking second!” Wade shouted, it was one of rare times he got serious and it made your hair stand on end

“What now Mr. Wilson?” Mr. Paradox asked, groaning dramatically, as if all of this was just a giant waste of his time

“W-what can I do to fix it? The timeline?”

Timeline? What the fuck was happening? You thought confused as you looked back at Wade again as he stared down Mr. Paradox

“Nothing unless you can bring Wolverine back to life in the next,” he says nonchalantly as if it were the most obvious thing in the world as he checks his watch “96 hours. But that’s impossible to-“

That little bit of information was enough to get the cogs in Wade’s brain turning as he hatched a play.

“Say less, I’m on it like a car bonnet!” Wade said cheerfully, you had no idea what the fuck that many but whatever it was Wade had set his mind too it and once his mind was set nothing was going to get in his way.

“Mr. Wilson-“ Mr. Paradox had started to say but before he could get another word out, Wade lunges forward and headbutts him full force, breaking his nose on contact, knocking him out as he snatched up the strange remote device Paradox had had in his hands.

Before you could even blink, Wade grabs you, scooping you up into his side, right under his armpit, as he opens up another one of those orange portal doors and jumps right through it with you.

The other side of the portal opens up midair and you crash land in the middle of a frozen forest. The ground and trees around you, covered in a powdery dusting of snow as a harsh wind blows over you causing you to shiver slightly, as you go to sit up you find yourself unable to move as a sharp pain shoots up your right arm.

It took a few moments to realize Wade had landed with you, more like on top of you it seemed, until you heard him groan from your back.

“I gotta get better at opening those things.” He groans, getting up.

“Sorry sugar lumps, we didn't really stick the landing there.” He said stretching his sore limbs as he gestured to your arm. It was bent at an awkward angle behind you, most definitely broken. Standing to your feet you grab at the injured appendage, popping it back into place with a loud snap and a yelp before it has a chance to heal wrong

“Ok Wade I’ve had enough of this Leon and Helena bullshit-“ you panted out still reeling from the pain of your arm.

“Ha! Resident Evil 6 humor!”

“Enough! Please just tell me what’s going on?!” You finally snap as you pull your cardigan around yourself in an attempt to block out the cold. Wade looks you over as if contemplating what to say next before he groans, running a gloved hand over his mask.

“Ah shit where do I even start?” He says as he sits down on a pile of rocks that had a makeshift stick x on top that looks suspiciously like a grave, you chose not to comment on it, as he begins to explain what had transpired over the last hour.

Apparently he was Marvel Jesus, you still didn’t get that part, and your timeline was dying. How? You weren’t entirely sure but Wade kept mumbling under his breath about some “Aussie fuck stealing his thunder from down under”, and that Mr. Paradox guy, who’s in charge of those TVA bastards that kidnapped you and Wade, was in charge of overseeing it but instead of letting it die out naturally over the next hundred years or so was going to speed up the process and now Wade only had 96 hours to fix it before everyone you knew and loved died.

“Which is why we’re here!” He said cheerfully pulling two shovels out of nowhere. Looking behind him to see where the shovels had intact come from you missed as he took a sip from his newly acquired ‘I Like Me’ mug through his mask before tossing it. “Grab your shovel jelly bean, we're hunting a Wolverine!” He said tossing the second shovel at your feet as he pulls the makeshift x grave marker from the pile of stones and starts to dig.

As soon as he said that you felt your stomach drop to your ass. That was a grave behind him, and it wasn’t just anyone’s… it was the Wolverine’s. You were digging up Wolverine to save your timeline?

“Holy shit.”

To say you idolized the guy was an understatement. When you were a kid you had all kinds of Wolverine comics and stickers, hell you still had a pair of Wolverine underwear to this day. Digging up his grave after all this time, after all that he went through in life just felt…wrong.

“You can cream your spinach later, right now we need to see if widdle Wolvie is really taking a dirt nap or not.” Chunks of dirt flew through the air as Wade kept digging, completely absorbed in his task.

“Wade this is-“ Not right you wanted to say. You start feeling your anxiety bubble up in your chest. “I can’t-!”

The sound of his shovel hitting something metal, adamantium, stopped you in your place. Tapping his shovel twice more to make sure he had actually hit something and that it wasn’t just his imagination, Wade looked over to you before turning back to what he had found, wiping away the dirt, he stared down at the now exposed decaying metallic skull of the Wolverine.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched Wade stare at the corpse for a moment, lost in thought, before he raised his shovel over his head and bought it down on Wolverine’s skull over and over again, not stopping until he got even frustrated and snapped the wooden handle over his knee, no doubt breaking it in the process.

“Damn it! Son of a bitch! Fuck! Motherfucker! My world is fucked!”

He screamed, throwing the pieces of the shovel and swinging his arms as he punched at the air. It had been a long time since you had seen him this serious, albeit the last time you were quite literally dying, and it was honestly terrifying.

Your stomach sank even further at his words. Hugging your arms to yourself in an attempt to make yourself smaller you slowly approached Wade just as he was pulling the adamantium skeleton fully from the grave, dragging it over to a downed tree as he propped it up to sit cross legged by him.

“That was weird. I’m much calmer now.” He says with a chuckle, you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or the corpse. “Look, I’m not a man of science, but you seem incredibly passed away. But it’s good to see ya.” he pats the corpse on the knee causing you to wrinkle your nose up in disgust as bile rises in your throat. You’d seen Wade do a lot of strange shit over the years of knowing him, but exhuming a grave of a fallen hero and having a one on one with his dead body was a whole new world for you.

“I gotta be honest, I’ve always wanted to ride with you, Logan. You and me, getting into everything. Just fucking shit up. Can you imagine the fun, the chaos, the residuals?”

You didn’t even want to know what he meant by that as you crept up next to Wade, kneeling down by his side.

“G’day, mate? There’s nothing that’ll bring me back to life faster than a big bag of metal cash.” Wade placed a finger under the corpse’s chin making its mandible move up and down as if he was talking to him, you put your arm on his to get him to stop but he just kept going as he moved to hold his masked head in his hands.

“No, no, no, no, uuuugh!” He groans dramatically as he throws his head back, thumping it on the tree trunk behind him. “He had to get all noble and die for real. God damn it! We coulda really used your help right about now Hugh.”

“Wade,” you said softly as you reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder, “we’ll figure something out, there’s got to be another way right?”

Wade’s masked face turns to look at you, deep in thought, before the sound of multiple approaching footsteps pulls him out of his head. Pulling you until you were tucked between him and the tree truck, he peeks over the tree before ducking back down just as fast, cursing under his breath.

“Wade Winston Wilson! You’re under arrest by the Time Variance Authority for too many crimes to count, come out!” Came a booming voice over the chill of the air. You and Wade look at each other for a moment as if deciding what to do.

“This is your last chance! Throw out your weapons and come out peacefully!” The voice said again as he and a bunch of other TVA agents began to surround you.

You look Wade in his eyes again and nod, knowing he’s going to have to fight to get you both out of there. Looking around himself for anything you could use to defend yourself, his eyes land on the adamantium skeleton sitting nearby and he gets a horribly morbid idea.

“I’m not gonna give you my weapons! But I promise not to use them.” He shouts back as he turns back towards you, placing a hand on your head. “Ok Nugget you know the drill.” He says so that only you can hear.

“You go right, I go left.” You nod your head towards the tree line in the background on your left.

“Good girl.” He pats you on the head one last time, tucking baby knife into your hand. “Maximum effort.” He grunted as you both stood, jumping into action. You break to the left as fast as your feet can carry you just as Wade jumps over the tree trunk pulling Wolverine's body with him.

Hearing rapid footfalls following close behind you try to pick up the pace, your lungs burning as you run, just as you reach the woods a gloved hand reaches out tangling itself in your locs before yanking you backwards. You hit the snow covered ground with an audible thud. Your head ringing and vision blurred from the impact. Just as your eyes were starting to clear, that rapid thumping noise from before came back with a vengeance.

Shaking your head to clear it you try and get back up to your feet until a black boot, steps down on your shoulder harshly. Above you stood a TVA agent, his stick pointed right at you as he glared down at you. Just as he began to lower it, you pulled baby knife from your boot, stabbing it as hard as you could through his foot.

He screams in pain as he stumbles backwards falling on his ass as he goes to pull out the knife. Scrambling back up you yank the knife from his foot before embedding it in his exposed neck. Pulling the knife back out again the fall back on your ass in shock at what you just did. You killed someone and hadn’t even hesitated. Sure you had see your fair share of people dying, thanks mostly to Wade, but never had you actually been the one doing the killing.

Before you have a chance to wallow anymore to yourself, you hear a body thud next to you and jump.

“My bad!” Wade calls as he smacks a TVA agent across the face with something that looked suspiciously like a metal femur, shattering his helmet and mostly his face on impact. “Wolverining is hard!”

“Wolverine was a hero and the only thing worth a shit to ever come out of Canada!” Shouted a voice from in front of you two, it was the same guy from before, the one who you tackled through the portal earlier, and he looked pissed. Before he had a chance to say anything else a katana goes bouncing off the ground and right through the guy’s mouth.

“Get my country’s name out of your fucking mouth.” Wade said as he walked up to the still standing body, pulling his sword out of his mouth. “And my sword, gimme that.”

Cleaning off the blade with his sleeve, Wade looks you over, checking you for injuries, something he couldn’t break himself from doing, no matter how much you told him you could heal, before pulling you to your feet.

“We gotta find us another Logan, an alive one.” He said looking around himself assessing the overall damage.

“How?” You question still trying to quiet the pounding in your head, it was starting to fade out now, only being a low murmur at the point, but it still made it hard to focus.

Pulling something from his belt, Wade holds up the remote looking device he had stolen from Mr. Paradox earlier between wiggling fingers.

“This my dear bestest pal is how.” He said opening it up and hitting a few buttons. Another orange portal opens and you stare at it in contemplation, nervousness grips your stomach as you think about what the two of you would get into on the other side of the portal. Wade goes through first holding out a hand for you from the other side. Swallowing down rising anxiety, you take up his hand following him through.

On the other side of the portal the atmosphere is much warmer, you're both in a club, a nice one at that, surrounded by other people as they mingle and converse by the bar.

“Logan I’m gonna need you to come with us!” Wade spoke over the music. Looking around the room, you wonder which of these people he was talking to, none of them really looked like a Wolverine to you.

“Who’s asking?” came a familiar voice from the bar. Turning to look to see who it was that said that, you were shocked to see a guy, about your height, with a crazy hairy torso, wearing a tight fitted black v-neck.

His face definitely screamed Wolverine to you but there was something about this man that just struck you as off.

“Look at this little Mary Lou Retton. Did you stick the landing little guy? Yes, you did, comic-accurate short king.” Wade cooed to him from your side in a baby voice as he crouched down dramatically.

You frowned up as Wade as he mocked him, definitely planning to ream him out later when you, yourself, was the same height as the man he was making fun of. This Wolverine stares at you, recognition and another emotion in his eyes, that you weren’t sure of as his nostrils flared and they took in yours and Wade’s, no doubt horrific, scents. Just as you were about to tell Wade that this Wolverine would work, another orange portal opens up behind you and he dragging you inside with him.

“Cue the fucking montage, baby.”

[slamminslamminmcgill]

I just know wade would be asking u to grind ur teeth down on it...i just know it....

hi anon ur so right wade actually has you do insane shit to him dick biting is just the BEGINNING‼️😮‍💨 and the first time he suggests it you’re mortified 😭 you’re giving him that gawk gawk 3000 typhoon top but he’s still kinda soft 😰 you’re lowkey worried feeling self-conscious about your head game until he cups your face and swipes his thumb across your cheek

“can i ask you a weird question?”

when you’re having sex with wade wilson, this could lead to literally anything. “does this bump on my nutsack look different than usual?”, “what’s your stance on the death penalty?”, “did i ever tell you about that time i got my dick stuck in the toaster?” you brace yourself for whatever batshit insanity is about to slide out of his mouth.

“yeah, go for it.”

“can you use your teeth on it? just, like… keep doing what you’re doing, please, it’s fucking amazing. i just want a little more texture.”

huh?! is he for real?! but you’ve worked so hard to NOT do that! years of toiling in the dick-sucking mines has trained that right out of you, and he wants you to throw all that away? why?! “uh… are you sure?”

he just laughs in response

“aw, you’re so cute! so sweet, worrying about me like that! think about it. why would i ask for this if i didn’t want you to do it, stupid boy?”

…y’know what? fair enough. you close your teeth around his shaft and cheese grater up and down the length of his throbbing, bumpy cock.

“OH~! fuck, just like THAT, baby, YES~! mmm… fu-u-ck, that’s perfect… like… like you’re trying to bite the batter off a corndog, baby, there you go…”

and when i say it gets worse from there i mean it gets WORSE!!!! like he’ll come up behind you while you’re cooking dinner.

“hey, slutter-butter, you got a minute?”

“uh… yeah, actually!” you put down the knife you were about to use to chop an onion, and spin around to face him. “haven’t really started yet, what’s—“

he’s holding a strap-on.

“yes, hi, this is wade wilson, i’ve got an appointment for a prostate exam at 4PM?”

you smirk and saunter towards him, eager to play along with this spontaneous bit, “hmm… i’m not seeing you on our records, mr. wilson. are you sure it was scheduled for today?”

“i’m not sure, actually. i’ve made that mistake before. but this clinic takes walk-ins, right?”

“yes we do, sir, but today’s been pretty busy.” you wrap your fingers around his on the silicone shaft and pull him into you. “but i’ll see if i can squeeze in you.”

wade bounces and squees with joy and hands you the strap. you don’t even get it all the way on your hips before he’s bending over. onto the stove. where you were preheating a cast-iron skillet.

“oh, shit, WADE—!”

“what?” he stares at you blankly, holding the hot pan you were about to use. he’s silent for a moment, then two, and then it clicks. “oh!” he sets the pan down in the sink, claps his hands together, then points at you. “forgot you’re a normie! logan fucks me over the stove all the time. doesn’t really matter for us, since we’re freaks of nature and third degree burns just tickle us psychosexually, but, uh… would you… wanna try it? do a little flambé action? roasted wade wilson breasts? i promise, it’s fun. it makes me moan like a coked-up whore late on rent.”

you snort at his stupid comparison, and it actually puts your mind at ease a bit. it doesn’t surprise you that him and logan get up to this kinda thing when you’re not around. in fact, you’re actually flattered to be allowed to take part in it. to take advantage of him like this.

“fuck it. bend over, you fucking weirdo masochist.”

“yippee! yay! thank you, daddy!!!”

wade eagerly yanks his shorts down, widens his stance, and slams his bare chest onto the glowing red burner. his leathery skin sizzles with the smell of cooked human flesh.

“ooooh, that feels so fucking good on my right nipple… lemme roll a little, get the other side, ah~! oh-h-h, it hurts so fucking good!!!”

you get into position behind him, but he holds his hand out backwards to halt you.

“wait! one more thing!”

he reaches over and grabs the gigantic chef’s knife, freshly sharpened and pristine, that you had lying on the cutting board next to a soon-to-be mutilated onion, and offers it to you.

“jam this through my palm when i say i’m getting close. that’s the finishing move. have me spraying a whole little league team out my dick.”

[wickedscribbles]

whoever makes my baby cry (is gonna lose some teeth tonight) ch. 2

Masterlist

Ch. 1

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Logan Howlett/Wolverine

Rating: Explicit

Tags: flashbacks, alcoholism mention, domestic fluff, flirting, sexual tension, anxiety, insecurity

Word Count: 3K

If you like what I write and can afford to do so, please consider buying me a coffee! It would be much appreciated.

Logan watches as his pulse beats through the thin skin under his jaw, shaving cream standing out against the line he’s passed through with the razor.

A real date. Yeah, okay. I’d rather get stabbed.

Like he hadn’t moved in a handful of weeks after they started fucking – Logan’s landlord be damned. (Wade was downright gleeful when Logan recounted that all it took to convince the greasy little bastard to let him out of his lease was threatening to bend him in half like a twig.) It’d taken him, no joke, one trip. Just him and his duffel bag of clothes against the world, a few toiletries.

Wade, on the other hand, has stuff. One might even say an abundance of it. His personality is reflected everywhere in the apartment. It doesn’t all exactly match, but Logan gets the feeling that that’s not the aesthetic that Wade wanted in the first place. No doubt he’d say that matching is boring. And it all suits him, suits the space – bold, bright colors and patterns here, softer ones there. Framed prints and soft blankets. Stuff he’s actually taken the time to collect, things he actually likes.

Well, he’s not going to say that he isn’t jealous, settling into a space like that. Outside of his time at the X-Mansion, he hadn’t taken much time to pause and let himself have something that felt comfortable to live in. There, he’d had a nice bed to curl up in and books and pictures on the walls – taped there instead of framed, but still, it was something. Mostly ones the kids had taken with him, brandishing their chunky Polaroids, darting after him in the hall.

“Mr. Wolverine! You wanna get in our photo?”

How was he gonna say no?

They’d come out all blurry, the kid’s thumb half over the actual picture, but what you could see of them showed the kids all smiling like it was the happiest day of their lives. Then they wanted him to stick around so they could take another one, so he could have a copy, too. Logan couldn’t bring himself to tell them that his head was screaming from the latest withdrawal and he was trying to get the hell out so he could suck down the nearest booze resource.

Cheesy ones with Rogue, their faces squished close to the camera. His face tilted in, one eyebrow arched, while she puffed out her cheeks. She’d laughed until she cried when they saw how it turned out, then got the hiccups so bad he had to teach her the peanut butter trick.

“You keep it,” she’d said once she could breathe. “I can’t look at that anymore or I’ll just die all over again.”

So he did.

She was a good kid. They understood one another, in a lot of ways.

He had a few pictures with the crew, too. One where he’s standing next to the man himself, a hand hovering just over the back of Charles’ chair like he’s not sure what to do with it. Jean took that one, and Logan’s not quite smiling, his mouth tight. In contrast, Charles’ face is the picture of open kindness, like he’s delighted to be there. Logan’s looking right at Jean. Even thinking about that picture, he knows Scott was right beside her. Watching him, watching her.

What a fucking mess. He’s not about to touch the knot of guilt that thinking about Jean brings up with a ten foot fucking pole.

After…after everything, Logan never let himself get comfortable anywhere. He knew he didn’t deserve it.

Wade seems to have different ideas, hounding him to mix up the vibe in here with whatever he wants to add to Wade’s already very decorated apartment. Logan had dodged that offer and deferred it, time and time again, until walking home one night in the dead of winter.

He and Wade were trudging along, freezing their asses off, clutching takeout. Logan was somewhere in between listening to Wade tell him some story about his latest job and concentrating on not falling on all the ice that had built up on the city sidewalks.

Logan isn’t a fan of being cold, but he’s even more annoyed by the city itself. Dirty, loud, crowded – impossible to escape the suffocating press of the population at any given point in time. As if his own racing thoughts weren’t bad enough, now he has to deal with being overstimulated all. The. Time. There are ways to make it easier, and Wade has done a lot to help him figure it out. Still, he misses the quiet of a more rural living space.

They’re almost home when something catches Logan’s eye, jutting out from the curb. It’s an end table, fucking fancy and hand crafted, if he’s right. Sunken against a load of wet cardboard, half covered in snow and frozen city sludge. He pauses mid-stride once they pass it, hesitates, then circles back.

“And just for fun I told him I was going to feed him his eyes like grapes, and of course I didn’t, but you know he started crying and – where’d ya go?”

“Hmm.”

Logan raps his knuckles against the varnished wooden top of the thing. Real wood. It’s nice. He knows people throw shit out to the curb all the time, and it’s a hit or a miss on whether or not it’ll be worth anything. Wade’s picky on what he’ll bring back, and there’s a whole process on cleaning it.

“Oh,” says Wade, reorienting himself in the dark and finding Logan again after a few seconds. “Okay, okay, I see what we’re doing. You like that, boy? You wanna take that stick home?”

“Shut it.” Logan answers, but there’s no bite to it. “Alright, I’m set.”

He hefts the table under his forearm and settles back in stride beside Wade, who’s looking at him with delight, all big brown eyes and toothy grin. The expression feels overwhelming sometimes. What the hell has he done to earn it? Logan doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s found something that he likes, and Wade’s happy, and that they take it home (home) to clean up and put on Logan’s side of the couch.

God, they’re getting so fucking domestic.

Logan taps the razor to the edge of the sink, rinses off. He still looks like the same man he was before he started shaving, just a little more nervous and a little less scruffy. He isn’t sure what else he expected. All that’s left to do is get dressed, slap on some deodorant and cologne. That all takes about two minutes flat, and by the time he pushes the shirtsleeves of the dark green dress shirt up to his elbows like he knows Wade likes, he’s beaten his own time by about seven minutes.

After a final – futile – attempt to get his cowlicks to lie flat, Logan steps back out of the bathroom.

Wade is draped over the kitchen counter, teasing Bonnet with the laser pointer, but perks up instantly when he hears Logan come out.

“Oh my gosh,” he gushes, kicking his feet at the bar. He hops down to close the short distance between them, wrapping his arms comfortably around Logan’s waist. Logan lets him, suddenly feeling shy. “Peanut, fucking look at you. You could have warned a guy you could clean up like this. And you smell amazing.”

“It’s nothin’,” Logan mutters. His face feels way too hot for him not to be blushing at all the unnecessary attention. “I just – shaved and put a shirt on.”

“Which is a testament to how hot you are all the time,” Wade sighs, world weary. “God, no one suffers like I do.”

Logan rolls his eyes to the ceiling. Saying thanks to this sort of easy praise isn’t something he can tackle – he’d rather punch a grizzly than look Wade in the eye and say that right now – so he shoots for matching sarcasm.

“Oh, you’ve got it real bad. I feel sorry for ya.”

Even though Wade’s dressed again, in sweatpants and a tee this time, Logan can clearly see the outline of his hard cock through the thin material. Wade notices him noticing and takes the opportunity to run his broad hands up and down Logan’s exposed forearms with another sigh, raising goosebumps to his skin.

“Yeah, it’s hard out here,” he purrs. “Or, well. Here.”

He places Logan’s hand over his dick, and it’s one of those frequent occasions where Logan isn’t sure whether to start fucking him, tell him to knock it off, or just laugh. Wade’s brain operates on a system that Logan prefers to call “ludicrous to the point of zero survival instinct”, and to be honest, why should he have any? He doesn’t need it anymore.

But it sure keeps Logan on his toes.

“Hmm…”

Logan brings his hand to Wade’s jaw and tilts his face, watching with low delight curling in his stomach as the other man’s eyes flutter shut. Fuck, but he’s pretty.

“If you take as long to get ready as you say you will, we’re never gonna leave this apartment if we fuck on top of all that.”

He wants Wade right back. If there's one thing the man knows how to do, it's tempt him. The look on his face says c’mon, Logan, we can make it quick. Please? They both know that quick isn’t possible for them once they get started.

“Will we?” Logan prompts. He kisses him once, twice, trying hard not to get lost in the affection and how Wade reacts to it. Wade scowls, pouts like a little kid.

“Damn it, no.”

It's hard not to grin. “Well, pick which one you want more, then.”

Groaning like he’s being stabbed through the lung, he trudges to the bathroom, oozing drama from every pore. He lingers at the door for a moment, crossing his arms with his date clothes in hand.

“I hate it when you’re rational.”

Chuckling from where he’s bent down to pet the cat, Logan only shrugs.

“One of us has to be.”

Only pausing to give him a whimsical middle finger followed swiftly by heart-hands, Wade disappears into the bathroom to start his own routine.

Guess he's really set on this.

He'd started asking to go out weeks ago, so Logan isn't too surprised. But it's not like they don't already go out. Hell, they're out together all the time – running errands, walking the dog, doing jobs, walking around the city. Personally, he isn't sure why this has to be any different.

“Why though?” Logan had grumbled, sleepy, at the time the idea of a real date was proposed. On their sectional, he was curled up under Wade's arm, head buried in his chest. Dozing off to some three hour long YouTube documentary Wade loved to dissociate to while he scrolled on his phone.

“Because it's nice,” Wade had said back, after a pause. “I dunno, maybe it'd just be nice to go out as a couple and not because we literally have to leave the apartment.”

Well, he's fucked.

Wade's voice had gone all uncharacteristically defensive, and Logan knew that was his sign to just be a good partner and let him have this.

He'd said something like okay, sure, baby, ‘course, shoving his face into the couch so he didn't have to think anymore, and now here they are. Logan still isn't quite sure why Wade wants this, but if it gets him this excited, then he'll go along too.

It's good to see him happy.

But Wade wasn't fucking around. He is taking forever in there. He should've known he'd take ages when Shania Twain started blasting, but this goes far beyond Logan's twenty minutes.

Is this normal?

A part of him starts to wonder if he's been doing it wrong, all this time – if getting ready for a date is really supposed to take as long as Wade's taking. He's never really been on consecutive dates, but given that he and Wade are definitely a package deal from here on out, maybe he was supposed to take longer.

Pacing a little, he consults his reflection in a kitchen cabinet. Checks his teeth. All good. He still just looks like himself, for better or for worse.

Getting anxious once Wade's Spotify playlist slips out of Shania’s greatest hits and into lesser known territory, he decides to head out for a quick walk to give himself something to do.

Be right back, taking Lil Bit around the block, he texts.

“OKAY HAVE FUN!” Wade yells over the opening of Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under. Of course, Puppins is out-of-her-mind delighted at the prospect of a spontaneous walk. It never fails to amaze Logan to see how the dog can go from a dead sleep to completely alert once the word walk is whispered anywhere near her – or if a treat bag is rustled. She jumps around his legs for a second while Logan rustles her mangy-looking little head, waiting for her to get the energy out so he can attach the leash. Then they’re back out the door, her little nails clicking on the sidewalk.

It’s a nice day, as far as the city goes. Spring is unfurling itself again, bringing back more pleasant air, something more tolerable than car fumes and the smell of garbage. Just cool enough to bite, but not cold enough for a coat. Puppins is going wild in it, her pig’s tail curled up at attention and her head raised as if she’s trying to see everything all at once.

Logan half hopes that whatever Wade has planned for the day, they’ll get to be out in it, if only for a while.

His phone buzzes in his pocket.

Ready! ❤️👀😉

“Alright, pack it up, heartbreaker,” he sighs at the dog, who is inevitably trying to fuck the German Shepherd who lives two doors down. Again. Logan makes awkward eye contact with the man the German Shepherd is attached to, does a little wave as he’s tugging her away.

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

Puppins just snorts at him, just as excited to be going in as she was to be going out.

When they make their way back in, Logan turns to hang her leash at the door, part of the usual routine. He can hear Wade somewhere behind him, crouching to greet Puppins in a flurry of saccharine words and tummy rubs that may or may not make her piss herself a little in excitement. (Whenever Logan expresses annoyance at how he gets the dog riled up, Wade just quips that he’s jealous, and that if Logan wants Wade to start greeting him like that, all he has to do is ask.)

“Alright, is this a piss or a no piss situa–”

Logan stops in the middle of his sentence, because he’s just turned and seen Wade.

Wade’s standing there in one of those patterned button-downs he likes – very nice, one he’s never seen before – and expensive-looking, dark slacks. That’s not what’s throwing him off. What makes Logan pause, for far too long (because he has no clue what the fuck to say) is the fact that Wade has taken the time and effort to cover up every inch of scarring on his face. It’s not perfect, but it’s pretty damn close.

It has to be some sort of high level makeup magic. Logan can smell the faint hint of it, but god did he make it look realistic. And of course, again with the fucking hair.

He’s reminded of the photograph he’d once found of Wade, stuffed in the back of a drawer. His arm slung around Vanessa’s shoulders, both of them beaming at the camera. Before he looks like he does now. Still so very clearly him, sweet brown eyes and a boyish face. He’d never brought it up to Wade – it seemed clear that the picture wasn’t something he was supposed to be looking at. Every other photo he’d ever seen with Wade in it had him looking the way he does now.

Logan’s chest fills with dread.

Wade does not look like Wade anymore. He doesn’t like it. He’s offended that Wade thought he had to try and look different to go out on some “real” date. But those thoughts and feelings are massive, overwhelming in a way that makes it hard to even articulate. Logan can only look at him, disbelieving, upset.

Wade beams at him like nothing’s happening.

“No piss!” he says triumphantly. “See, I told you she’s calming down. Just take ‘er over to Al’s place and hotbox her once a week.” Wade pats the little dog on her almost-naked side. “Good for the mind and the soul.”

What the fuck is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to say? A vague sense of panic floods the back of his throat like bile.

“Right,” Logan manages to croak.

A beat of some of the most awkward silence he thinks he’s ever lived through.

Fuck, say something, say fucking anything!

Logan takes a deep breath in. Out. In again. Finally finds it in him to crouch down to where Wade is on the kitchen floor. He puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Darlin’,” he starts, and still gets a tiny kick out of how bashful the term gets Wade. The other man’s eyes skitter away from his, like he’s a blushing schoolgirl. “You look – you look nice. I like your shirt. It’s new, right?”

Wade nods excitedly. “Mmhm, new and a steal! I mean, I didn’t steal it. But goddamn, was it reasonably priced. I mean, I like to look nice as much as the next merc, but we’re not exactly working with an Avengers budget, are we?” He looks panicked for a moment. “I mean, how long before this whole Poolverine craze blows over and we’re old news, anyway?”

“Wade –”

“What I’m trying to say is,” Wade continues, getting to his feet with athletic grace, “we should live it up while we can. And I think the author’s about ready for the chapter to end so we can move on to the good stuff. Yeah?”

He really wishes he knew what Wade was going on about half the time.

Sighing, Logan clambers to his feet as well, taking the hand that Wade offers him. “Okay, okay, yeah. But can we just sit down and – and talk when we get home?”

Their fingers interlock as Wade reaches for his keys. “Sure, honey badger. Whatever you want.”

[louierecs]

— ୨୧₊˚ Marvel

— back to main masterlist?

Tony Stark;

- tony being a tease

- his innocent assistant

Bucky Barnes;

- on his shoulders

- sharing a bed

- too hot

- unbelievable

- asshole

Steve Rogers;

- dark!steve x bratty reader

- first and last

Peter Parker;

- photo booth kissin'

- daring peter to kiss you

- spiderwebs

- doughnuts

- two normal arms

- teenage fever

- panty stealer

- white lies, red & blue tights

Wade Wilson;

- deadpool forces you to swallow

- asking wade if he still likes you when he’s literally inside you

- wade on his knees for you wilson

- buying an apartment with wade and fucking on practically any surface that’s convenient, and maybe not so convenient

- "I Could Just Eat You Out"

- wade who's super into sex toys

- wade who loves squirting

- x gon' give it to ya

- deadpool fucking you in front of a mirror

- dirty flirting with deadpool

- giving wade head in the back of that Honda odessey

- you're the one that i want

- daddy issues!

Logan Howlett;

- "i was made for lovin' you"

- giving old man!logan some love

- logan fucking you from behind while having you in a headlock

- bunny!reader having very little self awareness, even less when she's with rafe.

- grabbing at the stuffed toy rafe bought you while he breeaks you into a 'only rafe' mindset (they deactivated so link to post on my blog)

- babydaddy!rafe doing one of his weekly visits

- clothed in confidence

- 80s pornstar logan, pornstar!reader x pornstar!logan

- logan likes to watch you try to fuck yourself on his cock without providing an ounce of help

- logan grunting under his breath about how his fingers are a tight fit and wondering how his cock will fit

- logan holding you in a headlock

- talking logan into wearing a collar while he fucks you

- logan sucking on your tits like his life depends on it

- logan with a tongue piercing

- logan talking you through it

- soft to rough fucking with logan

- cockwarming with logan

- making a sex tape with logan

- keep quiet

- logan with gf with oral fixation

ᯓ⭒ more logan recs here .ᐟ

Wade and Logan;

- sitting with your back against wade’s chest while logan is eating your pussy and wade is playing with your tits

- dirty diana

- tag team

- sneaky

- wade doesn't like sharing you until he brings home logan

- poly Logan and Wade accidentally overhear you admit you love them

Frank Castle;

- frank discovering he likes being called daddy

- orgasm deniel with frank

- needy sex with frank

- waking frank up from a wet dream

- frank with a goth girlfriend

- can't sleep without you

- fight and fuck

- look at me

- violent desires

- bad shoulder

- sit around and miss you

- you gonna let me be good to you?

- kiss it better

- two am automatic

- sweet like wine

- being needy for frank but he wants to tease

- spin for me

- faking it

- let me handle it

- please, mr ghost face

ᯓ⭒ more frank recs here .ᐟ

Other;

- sundress (miguel o'hara)

⋆˚࿔ reblog your creators 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[accihoe]

Case Study 1

Pairing: detective!Bucky x doctor!reader

Summary: Prologue of how the geneticist and the detective met.

Warnings: Angst (in chapters to come)

A/u: 80s (Starts off in late 70s)

A/n: Howdy. Same drill; PLEASE DON'T STEAL MY WORK. God bless.

xxx

August 31, 1979

"Barnes." Stark acknowledges as he walks into the detective's office. "Stark." James says, removing his glasses and laying them on his brown desk. "Here are the evidence forms. We contacted Doctor Banner, but he's caught up in something. So, in place, he's sending his brightest intern." Tony states, sitting on the desk. "An intern?" James sighs, rubbing his cheeks. "Apparently she's good." Tony shrugs, lighting his cigar. "No smokin' in here. Ma complains about the smell." James waves away the smoke. Tony rolls his eyes and walks to the door. "You two start Monday, September 3rd." With that, Tony leaves.

September 3rd, 1979

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Doctor, I'm detective Steven Rogers." Bucky hears Steve as he walks into the building. "The pleasure is all mine, detective. I'm Doctor Y/N Y/L/N." Y/N smiles warmly, shaking Steve's hand. "Doctor? I thought you were a novice." James states as he walks in, and Steve shakes his head with a quiet sigh. "I'm a Probationer, actually. Mr Barnes Junior." Y/N states. "Is that so?" James asks, lighting his cigar. "Indeed. However I lean more towards the science in genetics than medical practice." She says. "Very well. Well now that we've passed the introduction phase let's get to the case, shall we?" Barnes changes the subject. "Yes of course." Y/N smiles. James feels his heart jolt at her warm smile, so he returns it.

September 21st, 1979

"You're aware that the case ended like a week ago, right?" Sam Wilson asks, slipping his coat over his shoulders. "Oh we're very aware. Doctor Y/L/N is just helping me uncover more family schemes and suspect. Because she's a genius and all." Barnes shrugs. "Right. And that's why she's sitting on your desk." Sam says as he leans against his colleague's doorframe. "Goodnight Sam. Take care." Y/N smiles and singsongs. Sam sighs and shakes his head as he leaves, and once his back is turned to them he allows the smile to take over his face.

November 16th, 1979

"Buck, can I ask you something?" Y/N looks over at James, tucking a strand of overgrown hair behind his ear. "Ask away, doc." He smiles, looking down at the filed paperwork on his lap. "How would you like to meet my family?" She hums, twirling his hair between her fingertips. "Isn't it a bit soon, dollface?" He asks, finally looking at her. "I don't think so. For all they know we could've been together since September 3rd." She states calmy. Bucky smiles at his girl, taking her hand into his. "They're going to swoon over you. Trust me. Just brace yourself for questions. They have loads of them. About anything and everything." She says. James laughs, tilting his head to the side. "I can't wait to meet them. When and where do we go?" Bucky is quick to shift closer, intrigued and excited.

They shared their first kiss over New Year's. And, 4 months later, Y/N had a shimmering engagement ring adorning her left hand.

September 3rd, 1980

"And do you, James Buchanan Barnes, take Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, to be your lawfully wedded wife?" The pastor asks. "I do." James smiles, more sure about his answer than he's ever been. "And do you, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, take James Buchanan Barnes to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The pastor asks. Y/N sucks in a breath of excitement as she looks at all the seated and waiting guests, and then to her almost husband, his beautiful baby blues shining with the utmost love and adoration, "I do.". "You may now kiss the bride." The pastor announces. The crowd cheers and applauds as James dips his wife and kisses her.

"This is so bananas that on this very day, a year ago, we met for the first time. And now we're married." Y/N says dreamily as her husband kisses her knuckles as they sit at the bride and groom table. "Yeah, love acts in mysterious ways." He agrees, feeling himself get physically lost inside her eyes. "I love you, Y/N Y/M/N Barnes." He smiles, eyes scanning over her breath-taking features. "And I love you, James Buchanan Barnes." She hums in agreement. "Tonight I'm exceptionally grateful that Doctor Banner was busy." James smiles. "Want to know a secret?" Y/N whispers. "Always." He whispers. "He wasn't really busy. But I asked to go in his place." Y/N smiles up at her husband. "Wait. What?" He asks, scrunching his nose up as he smiles.

"Well, I wanted to gain experience fairly quickly, and word about NY's hottest detective on the look for a Geneticist came my way, so I pulled a few strings." Y/N admits. "So I have my beautiful wife to thank for this?" Bucky asks with a smile. "And Tony, for allowing a rookie in on a big case." She smiles playfully. "You helped us ace that case." James says in return.

xxx

This will probably just be a mini-series. But I'll see how it does, and decide thereafter.

[buckyshoneybunny]

Was It Ever Even Real?

Summary- Bucky looses the love of his life, but for her? It was never even real.

(Summary sucks, I know)

W.C.- 1524

A/N- This is my first ever story/fanfic, it's cringey, and horrible but I did my best. For those who do read it, hope you enjoy and thank you for reading. Feedback is welcome. (All characters belong to Marvel!)

It Was Real For Me Too, (Part 3) Masterlist

“Stupid,” he said, as he punched you. You collapse in a pool of blood that had already begin to accumulate. “Pathetic” -kick- “Weak” -stomp- “Idiotic little girl!” He knelt down and punched you again.  

“Hang on Bunny! Help is on the way!” Your partner, Ethan, called through the radio that was laying a few feet away. You lie there, helpless, unable to move as he repeatedly pounds you with his fists.  

“You should have known better,” he growls, lifting you by the blood-stained collar of your shirt. “I told you what would happen if you-” Bang. A gun shot rings through the air. 

The last thing you remember was being carried to safety. 

You wake up in a strange room, the room was dark, given the fact that it was storming. There wasn’t much to the room, it was clean and had a few personal items littered here and there. Looked almost as if this was a guy's room.  

Where the hell am I? You thought. 

“Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N” a voice greeted, startling you. 

“Who are you.... and... where are you?” 

"My name is J.A.R.V.I.S. and I work as Tony Stark's robotic artificial assistant." Tony Stark? J.A.R.V.I.S.? No, I can’t be, can I? 

"Mr. Rogers is awaiting with the others in the conference room. I've told him you've woken up” 

You get up and make your way to the conference room, with the help of J.A.R.V.I.S. of course. As you walk in you notice Wanda Maximoff, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Bucky Barnes, and Steve Rogers gathered around a table.  

“Have a seat,” Steve said in his Captain voice. 

You sit. Thick glass walls encircle the room. 

You swallow nervously. Steve clasps his hands together on the table and leans forwards some, “So, tell me Y/N, how did you get in here?” 

“I don’t know,” you mumble nervously. 

Natasha quirks a brow and crosses her arms. “You don’t know?” She says skeptically. 

“No. The last thing I remember was-” You pause, not want to relive that. “Look, how do I know I’m not dreaming. I mean you all aren’t even real”  

“What do you mean we aren’t real?” Tony asks as he walks in from behind you, causing you to jump.  

You think for a moment, unsure of how to explain it. “Well, where I come from, you, the Avengers, aren’t real. You are fictional characters, played by actors. The franchise is called MARVEL.” You have to hold yourself back from fangirling. 

“Hmm” Steve looks like he’s deep in thought.  

“And, uh, who’s your favorite?” Sam asks, a little to cocksure.  

You blush and look away. “I-I don’t have a favorite,” you stammer. 

Wanda gets a little red twinkle in her eyes. She smirks and says, “Bucky.” 

“Huh?” Asks the man himself. You look between Wanda and Bucky with wide eyes. Everyone looks at Wanda for an explanation.  

“That’s who her favorite is, Bucky.” 

“Awe, tinman, really?” Sam groans. Bucky’s eyes widen as a blush covers his face. You snicker as you look at him. 

“Tell us more about this... MARVEL,” Clint says, intrigued.  

That fateful day was over two years ago. You’ve grown quite close with everyone; you’ve even gotten to date your favorite ‘fictional’ character. You and Bucky have been dating for over a year, it took a while for him to wrap his head around everything and properly trust you, which you understand and were patient with him. You guys share a room of course. Since you were a law enforcement agent, you were very skilled in hand-to-hand combat and were able to assist on missions after some extra training. 

“In position,” Sam said through comms, bringing you back to present.  

You, Sam, Steve, and Bucky were at an old HYDRA base gathering intel. Sam and Steve are the watchouts while you and Bucky are going through the building. 

“Copy that,” replied Bucky. “First floor clear, nothing useful. I’ll check the second floor, Bunny, you check the basement.” Ordered Bucky. 

“Yes, Sargent,” You tease. Bucky smirks. 

“Focus,” Steve says sternly. 

You head down to the basement. You check room by room, office by office but find nothing. “Hey guys? There doesn’t seem to be any-” Everything goes black. 

“Y/N?” Calls Bucky. “Y/N, you there?” Steve, Sam, and Bucky rush to the basement, by the time they get there you’re gone. 

“What the hell happened? You said this place was deserted!” Bucky yells, furious.  

“Well, it was supposed to be,” answered Steve.  

“Well, obviously it wasn’t!” Bucky gets in Steve’s face. 

“Hey!” Sam yells. “Fighting isn’t gonna help us figure out what happened. Lets head back to the tower and figure out what to do, okay?” 

Meanwhile 

Oh god my head hurts. What the hell is that blinding light?  

You blink your eyes open, squinting against the light in your eyes. You try to move but are strapped to a table. 

“Finally! You’re awake!” A familiar voice says. 

You turn your head. Rumlow. 

“My my, aren’t you a pretty thing. No wonder Barnes likes you” He slides a greasy finger down the side of your face. “We’re gonna have a lot of fun, you and I.” He grins. 

Three months. Three fucking months. HYDRA has been torturing you. They’ve beaten you, tortured you, and injected you with god knows what.  

“Wakey wakey, sunshine.” Rumlow grins. “Time for another day of sweet, sweet torture.” 

Meanwhile.... again 

Bucky sits in the lab, hoping, praying they find something, anything that’ll help them find here. Bucky unclenches his flesh hand, the ring, now warm from his grasp, shines in the early morning sunlight that bleeds through the floor to ceiling windows. He fiddles with it for the hundredth time. He had it all planned out, he was gonna take her to the Christmas festival, Christmas was always her favorite. They were going to spend the whole day there, by nightfall he’d take her to the big beautiful Christmas tree, get down on one knee and hope to god she’d say yes. 

“Buck, when was the last time you ate? Or showered? Hell, when was the last time you’ve even slept?” Says Steve, startling Bucky back to the present.  

He sighs. Steve’s right. “I can’t stop thinking, ‘what if?’ What if we never find her? What if she’s already dead?” They can’t lose her. He can’t lose her. 

“You can’t think like that Buck, you have to hold out hope that-” 

“It’s been three fucking months! I’ve lost all hope!” He yells and starts pacing. 

Before Steve can reply, Natasha come running in, panting. “We found her; we know where they’re keeping her.” 

The team gets suited and heads out on the Quinjet. Once they reach the destination, they land a bit away as to not alert anyone of their presence. Sam sends Redwing to survey the area, it’s a one-story warehouse, a huge warehouse at that. There are no outside guards or anybody protecting the outside. Weird, Bucky thinks to himself. 

They quickly head inside to find a large screen projector in the main room. They turn to see you in the next room, HYDRA agents preparing you for more ‘fun’ as Rumlow says. You turn your head, locking eyes with Bucky. I love you; you mouth to him. Just as he goes to rush metal arm first towards you, he’s knocked on his ass before he can cross the threshold.  

“There’s some kind of forcefield preventing us from entering,” Wanda murmurs, she gently places her hand against said forcefield and it flashes orange. 

Rumlow walks into view with a syringe in his hands, grinning. “Hello Saldat” 

“I fucking swear if you don’t put that syringe down and let her go, I'll bash your goddamn skull in!” Bucky growls, banging on the forcefield. Just as he goes to inject you, you vanish, gone like you were never even there. The only thing that proves you were there is a necklace Bucky gave you for your birthday, that was all that was left of you, of someone he loved so dearly it made his heart ache. 

Suddenly, the large screen begins to operate. They all turned to face the large screen projector in the middle of the main room in the warehouse. You were back in your world, right where you left, almost as if you never left at all, as though it was all a dream. But for those glued to the screen, it was all but a dream. 

They looked at each other in disbelief, not believing you had gone back to your world, leaving them behind. Leaving Bucky behind. Bucky’s heart stopped at the sight of you on the medical table, covered in blood.  

The operating room wreaked havoc; doctors scrambling, nurses yelling.  

“We’re losing her!” Yelled one of the nurses. Bucky held his breath. 

They get the paddles ready to shock the life back to you. 

Once 

Twice 

They do it one last time. Nothing.  

“Time of death?” Asked the doctor. 

“1:23 A.M.” Whispered the nurse. 

Bucky fell to his knees, heart shattering. 

“No!” He cried. Everyone watched him with tears in their eyes as his whole world came crashing down. 

[abbatoirablaze]

Signed, Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings:  negative attitudes, arranged marriages, slight angst.

Part 1 of 3

Part 2, Sealed

Part 3, Delivered

“Rebecca, stop,” you whined, glaring at your oldest sister as she put your hair in pigtails.  You shifted, but she hit your back lightly with her brush, “oww!  Stop it, you meanie head!”

“Stop being a baby,” she sighed, rolling her eyes, “I’m trying to make you presentable!”

“We all have to look our best!” your second eldest sister chimed in as she helped your third oldest sister, “mommy and daddy are inviting over all the families and we get to find out who we are marrying today!”

You rolled your eyes and looked at Bethany, “is Winnie ripping your hair out too?”

Bethany shrugged as she sucked on her lollipop, “sissy gave me a sucker!”

You frowned and tried to look at your eldest sister once more, but she tugged on your pigtails yet again, “HEY!  I’ll tell mom!”

“Be quiet, (Y/N),” Rebecca muttered, “Winnie I told you that they didn’t get the suckers til they were done!”

Winnie giggled and your eyes widened, “wait…you have one for me?”

“Not if you don’t hush up and sit still,” your eleven year old sister grumbled, “so do what you’re told.”

“Yeah…yeah…whatever, Becca.”

“Oh god, they all look so grown up!” Mrs. Odinson cooed as she looked over each of the four Barnes girls.  She put her hand over her heart as she watched Rebecca curtsey to her, “oh…and so well-mannered.”

“Come on now, girls…be gracious hosts,” your mother urged as she invited the rest of the families in.  Mrs. Odinson was followed by her husband and their three children, Hela, Thor, and Loki, by Mr. Barton and his son Clint, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson and their two children, Sarah and Sam, and finally by Mr. and Mrs. Rogers, and their son, Steve.  You groaned when they funneled through the door, the boy just a year younger than your own brother, but just as small as you, even though he was eleven and you were seven.  You were snapped from your thoughts when your mother snapped in your face, “(Y/N)!”

“Sorry mum,” you all but whispered, throwing your attention to each of the families.  You held the edge of your skirt and copied your sisters, curtsying in front of them, before greeting each family, “Good to see everyone…thank you for coming!”

“George home?” Mr. Rogers asked, looking to your mom. 

“Out back, Joseph,” she smiled softly, “I believe he said he had some things to discuss in the guest house with each of the men…”

“The contracts…” Winnie giggled, looking at Clint flirtatiously. 

You found your eyes rolling as your second eldest sister, and nine year old watched the thirteen year old who happened to be eyeing her up and down. 

The two idiots had been in love with each other since the day that they’d met, and each time they saw one another you were reminded of a play your father always read to you-Romeo and Juliet…but…well, without all the death. 

They had stars in their eyes when they looked at one another, and saw each other as their worlds. 

The men excused themselves and took the boys with them, while Hela and Sarah followed after their mothers, with yours leading them out to the tea room.

“How funny would it be if Winnie and Clint didn’t get married?” Bethany, your eight year old sister asked. 

“Don’t even joke about that,” Winnie all but whimpered.  She clutched her hands over her heart and her eyes went comically wide, “I-I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t marry Clint.”

“Don’t worry…if I get him and you get Sam, I’ll trade you!” Bethany giggled.

“It doesn’t work like that,” Becca frowned, “Daddy will choose who we marry.  We are each promised to one of the families…that’s how it’s going to work.  You don’t get to trade them around like you two trade around headbands.”

Both Winnie and Bethany frowned.

“Well, who do you want to get married to, (Y/N?)”

You shrugged, “I don’t care much…so long as it’s not Steve Rogers…he’s the worst.  Winnie is in love with Clint…and Sam and Bethany like each other…so I guess I’d be okay with Thor…he’s like two of me…he’s way too old…right?  But I-I don’t know…maybe daddy will feel bad and let me marry Loki…he’s tricky.  I like him.”

Becca crossed her arms over her chest, “What’s wrong with Steve?  He-he’s a sweet boy!”

You rolled your eyes and started towards the stairs, not wanting to deal with the families or with what was going on, “Steve Rogers is gross, and he’s got cooties.”

“You’re so immature, (Y/N)!”

“And you’re so in love with him,” you groaned, giving your sister another look, “if you want to marry him so bad, tell daddy…”

“But the Rogers family is nearly as strong as ours,” she said quickly, trying to think of something, anything to keep you invested!”

“Steve Rogers isn’t a win in anyone’s book,” you sneered, “he’s a German Shepard in a Chihuahua body…any woman that gets stuck with him will be a penniless widow before the wedding day…you’ll be back at home with mommy and daddy before you reach your contract date.”

“Well that’s dark…” Bethany frowned.

“You’re so not romantic…” Winnie added in. 

“GIRLS!” your mother called loudly.  You rolled your eyes, knowing that they were waiting for all of you in the tea room.

“You guys couldn’t have just let me sneak off...could you?” you sighed dramatically, “some sisters you are.”

“They would have noticed, (Y/N)!” Bethany giggled as she immediately changed her tone and skipped towards you.  You let go of the banister as she took your hand, “come on…let’s go get it over with…have some tea…and then find out who we get to marry.”

“I hope you end up with Steve Rogers,” you groaned, “you’re way too optimistic, Bethy…”

“Oh, sweetheart…what are you doing back so soon?”

“Pretty cut and dry,” your father admitted as he pressed a kiss to his wife’s temple, “would you ladies care to join us out back?  I have the caterers out there and the party is ready to start after the formal announcements.”

“Party?” you asked, looking at your eldest sister.

Becca nodded, holding out her hand, “yeah…once mum and dad announce who we are marrying they’re throwing us pre-engagement parties…today.”

“I’m seven!” you scoffed, looking at her.

“And I’m eleven…come on, kid!”

You sighed and got off your chair, taking your eldest sister’s hand.  The group of women followed your mother and father out to the back where the caterers were already finished setting up a small feast for the five families.  You frowned when you saw the five tables.  The one in the center only had three chairs, where your brother Bucky was sat at. 

Each other table had an additional seat where the families were supposed to be. 

You looked nervously to your eldest sister while each family took their seats, leaving you and your sisters standing in front of everyone with your father.

He lifted a glass from a tray and was smiling as he held it up, “I’d like to thank each of you for coming out today…and for finalizing the agreements which will allow us to become a united front.  Not only will we run the East Coast, but the entire country.  We are creating an empire…and I am happy to stand along side you.  As each of you are aware, we’ve been hammering out the details of the arrangements for years now…but today was our final resolution.  Blood, sweat, and tears made this agreement…as you know, my only boy, Bucky, is set to marry the daughter of my second in command.  They’ve been promised to each other since they were toddlers…but I am grateful that each of you are so willing to accept my daughters into your fold and make them family as well.”

Each of the men held up their glasses, cheering to the alliance. 

First to stand was the all father.  Mr. Odinson nodded at your father, “George…I’m proud to claim your eldest daughter, Rebecca as my own, so that she may marry my son Thor.”

Thor stood up and gave Rebecca a charming smile, before walking up to where you and your sisters stood with your father. 

Rebecca gasped, her hand leaving yours as Thor stopped at the edge of the little stage, “Rebecca Barnes…will you marry me when you become a woman?”

Rebecca looked to her father before nodding, accepting the duty as a daughter of George Barnes.  He smiled as she took his hand and they walked back to the table together, sitting down.  Next to stand was Mr. Barton, the head of the Irish mob. 

“From the day that Clint was born, I knew that he needed a strong lass to keep him in line…” he smirked, clapping his son on the shoulder, “someone smart and sweet…wise beyond her years…then we came across your little lass, Georgey…and she and my boy hit it off in’an instant…we’d be honored to accept her as our own.”

Clint smiled so wide you wondered if it hurt as he all but ran to Winnie.  You frowned as his eyes lit up, and your chances of a less-than admirable husband increased. 

“I can’t believe I get to ask this…but marry me?”

Winnie giggled as she all but leapt into his arms, nodding excitedly.

The happy couple ran back to the table and set down together. 

Next up Mr. Rogers stood, “George…we’ve been friends a long time…some would say that we were each other’s first allies…even though I’m from Italy and you’re from England…we’re like brothers…we have a deep bond that no one could break.  So when you approached me about an arranged marriage between my son and one of your daughters…I didn’t know what to say…but my boy…he’s been in love with your girl since they were little…”

You felt dread in your stomach as the 80 pound asthmatic boy scooted his chair out and timidly walked up to the stage.  He went straight to your father, “Mr. Barnes…you gave me first pick of any of your daughters…for that I’m truly grateful…I’m glad that I have your permission…Buck and I are already like brothers, much like you are with my father…and our alliance will only be strengthened by the union with one of your daughters.”

“You’re a good boy, Steve…”

“Thank you sir!” he smiled.  You exhaled as he slowly walked, stopping between you and Bethany.  You smiled as he turned, “Bethy…”

“Y-yes Steve?”

“Will you let go of your sister’s hand so that I may take it in marriage?”

Your eyes widened, and the dread hit you like a freight train.  Steve turned to you and smiled, “(Y/N)…I’ll wait for you to finish school…and I’ll build an empire so that you know I’m serious about our future…but I want you to know that it’s all for you…I want the honor of being your husband.”

“Oh fuck!”

“CONGRATULATIONS!”

“I don’t know if you’re congratulating me on graduating from school, or if you’re congratulating me on how I’m going to be ending my life soon.”

Rebecca frowned, slapping your arm, “stop it…that’s not a funny joke.”

“I’m serious…my life is over even before it gets started!” you grumbled as she pulled you into a hug.  You pulled away and looked to your older sister, “oh Beth…say we can run away together…please.  I don’t want to get married.”

“Being married actually isn’t that bad!” she giggled as she bit her lip, “and anyways…I kind of don’t want to…not with Sam and I expecting…”

Your eyes widened as you looked at your twenty year old sister, “BETHANY MARIE BARNES!”

“It’s Bethany Marie Wilson,” she corrected with a smile as your other sisters stared at her wide-eyed, “and yes…I know…it’s soon.  Sam and I talked about waiting until I finished my degree, bu-“

“You’re going to be a doctor, Beth,” Winnie laughed as she shook her head, “there’s no waiting, honey…”

“Oh thank god,” Rebecca smiled as she wrapped her arms around your other sister, “mom’s been hounding Thor and I to have a baby ever since Clint and Winnie had one…maybe she’ll give up on me for a second.”

“I thought you and Thor wanted a family,” Bethany frowned as she protectively put a hand over her non-existent bump, “Oh…are you two…”

“He cheated again,” she frowned, “big surprise.  He can’t seem to keep it in his pants long enough for me to get a proper test back on him and I’m not letting him slip into me after he slides into one of his little whores.”

You frowned, “it could be worse…you could be getting married to Steve Rogers at the end of the week.”

Rebecca raised her brow, “you’re still really on this?  After everything? At least you know he's only ever had eyes for you, regardless of how you've treated him!”

“Becca…I don’t want to marry Steve Rogers…”

“You really haven’t seen him since we were little, have you?” Bethany giggled, gently squeezing your arm.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, your brow furrowing, “seen him?  Bethy, we’ve been tucked away in England getting our schooling out of the way…I haven’t seen any of you since you’ve gotten married unless I got a Christmas card…”

“Well, trust me when I say this…you won’t recognize your fiancé…”

“Yeah, yeah, Bethy…let’s just get this party over with.”

[clintbartonswife]

rip off the band-aid

Pairings: Peter Parker x Wade Wilson Summary: wade carries patterned band-aids. peter is in love. Whumptober prompt #7 : alleyway / radio silence Notes: college!peter parker, descriptions of violence and injury, excessive bad language masterlist   || whumptober2023

Peter hissed as a stray bullet grazed his forearm, having successfully dodged the rest of the emptied magazine, the fabric of his suit tearing and allowing some of his blood to creep down his arm.

"Come on!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "Okay, now you've annoyed me Mr. Robber. Do you know how hard it is for me to fix this thing?"

The bad guy seemed taken aback by the statement, hesitating as he reloaded. That was all the opportunity Peter needed, leaping forwards to deliver a punch square to his jaw, knocking him on his ass. As he scrambled to regain his footing, Peter webbed him to the spot.

"What the hell man, I've got places I need to be!"

"Shush - you tried to rob an old lady, you don't get to complain at me right now." He began backing out of the alleyway, only feeling slightly guilty at the robber's continued protests. Not too guilty though, he had shot him after all. "Stay there - the police will be here... soon. Like, within the hour definitely."

Extending his arm to release another web, he winced at the hot pain that radiated across his skin, willing his healing factor to kick in. Swinging back to his apartment was gonna suck.

Deciding to avoid that for as long as he could, he began to walk up the side of the building. Once at the top, he looked out over the row of flat roofs, smirking.

"Parkour" he whispered, beginning to run. As he leapt over the roofs, he allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of freedom, wind rushing past him with a deafening roar.

He eventually made it to the last building, a large road separating this building from the next. Readying himself to swing, his ears picking up on pitchy singing coming from the building opposite.

"I know that voice..."

Already smiling, he swung up to the building, landing on the edge of the roof. Deadpool was facing away from him, bright pink headphones over his ears.

Under the mask, Peter raised an eyebrow, huffing a laugh as the merc continued his off-key singing, wiggling along to the beat. As he reached the chorus, he began to do the funky chicken, turning around slightly with each jump.

"P-p-p-poker face f-f-fuck her face, ca- OH god, webs!! Dont sneak up on me during my gaga time!"

Peter laughed at this, warm feeling in his chest. He had begun to associate the feeling with Wade. It was dangerous.

"Well maybe if you didnt have your volume up so high, you woulda heard me landing"

The mercenary gasped, placing a hand on his chest. "You don't listen to gaga on anything other than full volume, every monster knows that!"

"How many times do I have to tell you you're not a monster until you believe me?"

"Wh - Oh. You do care. As adorable as that is baby boy, I was using the fan name for all gaga stans."

"oh - right. I knew that."

Deadpool placed his hand on his forehead dramatically, "You make me feel old, Webs. You really do. Good thing you've got daddy issues or this would never work."

"Wade -!"

At this, the older man chuckled, moving closer to the spider. "I mean, really it's lucky that I -" He broke off, crowding closer to Peter. "Your arm -"

"'Tis but a flesh wound, it's really nothing, it's practically already healed-"

His voice gave out as gloves gently parted the rip in his suit, allowing Wade a better look. Peter could do nothing but watch with baited breath as the other man pulled out a small case from one of his many pockets, producing a hello kitty band-aid and carefully placing it on the cut. He then bent down to place a kiss on the area, the warm leather of his red mask against his skin sending chills up Peter's arm.

"There!" Wade grinned, seemingly unaware of the mental spiral he had sent Peter down, "All better!"

"Y- yeah. All better. Thanks, 'pool"

///

It had become a thing.

Wade seemed to have a never ending supply of band-aids in the pockets of his suit which he was always too happy to give out. At the end of patrols Peter usually had at least one band-aid stuck to him, even when it was very clear he didnt need it.

Just last night Wade had sent him home with 6 plasters on his back, themes ranging from paw patrol to spongebob. He hadnt noticed until he was getting changed, meaning that the merc had been putting them on him throughout the night without Peter realising.

He wasn't sure if that gap in his spidersense was something to be happy or concerned about.

He chose not to think about it instead.

Today, he was stood on the edge of the roof, waiting for Wade to come back with Chimichangas.

"Oi! Webhead!" Peter looked down, Wade holding up the takeout like a baby Simba at the base of the building. "Uppies?"

He snorted. "You're not a child, 'Pool."

"Don't make me take the stairs you cruel and beautiful bastard."

Peter rolled his eyes affectionately, making sure he was grounded with his footing before sending a web down to Wade and pulling him up. As he did so, Wade vocalised to the tune of 'When will my life begin' from Tangled.

"You're an idiot." Peter laughed, Wade placing the takeout safely on the edge of the roof before hauling himself up the rest of the way.

"I happen to be an idiot with food, so you might wanna rethink that attitude Petey Pie."

"You would starve me?"

Deadpool cocked his hip out defiantly. In response, Peter took his mask off and pouted.

"Ugh! No fair! You know I cant deny your cute little face of anything!"

Peter laughed, taking his share of the takeout with a cheer of success before sitting down cross-legged on the floor. "Pleasure doing business."

"Cold. Very cold." Wade chastised, though his smile was audible. With a hefty sigh, he joined Peter on the floor, pulling his mask up to his nose. "I grabbed you a fortune cookie on my way - I know you like those."

Peter blushed slightly, trying his best to hide his surprise. "Oh - thank you 'Pool."

He accepted the small package, ripping it open excitedly and letting out a small hiss as the plastic sliced into his finger.

"Nobody panic!" Wade yelled, dropping his burrito on to his lap and producing a plaster from his pocket in record time. "Daddy's got you covered!"

"Wade -"

"Shush." he chided, taking hold of his hand and applying the band-aid gently.

Peter rolled his eyes fondly, "Really? Isn't this a bit on the nose?"

"Branding is important for any self respecting merc-turned-hero. Plus, this way people know that if they hurt you I'll gut them with my katanas!"

"Hey! What have I said about the no killing thing?"

Wade dropped his head like a scolded schoolchild. "To not kill people. Which I will stick to... unless you are gravely injured."

"Is this your way of keeping me around?"

"Is it working?"

Peter just smiled, rubbing his thumb against the deadpool-themed band-aid before breaking open the fortune cookie.

'if we wait until we're ready, we'll be waiting for the rest of our lives'

He swallowed heavily, glancing quickly up at Wade who was currently trying to fit as much as possible of his burrito in his mouth at once.

It would be so easy to say something right now - to, for the lack of a better phrase, rip off the band-aid.

Fear held him back, unable to even think of a world in which he didn't have Wade. Sure, the man made a lot of jokes about dating him, but they were never followed up in any way that would even suggest an inch of seriousness.

Peter refused to mess this up.

So instead he shoved the note down the neck of his suit, unwrapping his food and pushing his thoughts to the back of his head.

///

Over the next few months, Peter found himself thinking back to the fortune he had received. The note itself was pinned to his corkboard in his bedroom, meaning it was the first thing he saw every night as he left to and returned from his patrols.

Wade seemed blissfully unaware of the younger man's mental distress, still happily providing themed plasters for every little cut and scrape that he had gained during his endless hours protecting his city.

Peter made a mental note that the range in themes were steadily declining, the majority of them now boldly covered in deadpool's symbols. A small and slightly insane part of his brain convinced him that this was Wade's way of staking his claim, somehow akin to a wedding ring.

Today, he was on his way back from college, tracing his fingers over the band-aid on his forearm. The cut underneath it had been tiny, his enhanced healing definitely having erased it by now, but he couldn't bring himself to take it off.

"Help!"

Peter froze in his tracks, senses dialled to 11. The hairs on his arms rose as he kicked into gear, running to an empty alleyway and stripping his clothes as quickly as he could to reveal his suit, shoving them in his bag and exchanging them for his mask.

Between swings, he quickly typed out a message to deadpool for backup, the amount of police cars racing towards the area a good indicator of the level of threat he was about to face.

The sound of crumbling buildings heightened as he grew closer, sirens and screams building into a frantic cacophony, reaching its peak just as Peter arrived at the scene.

He took a moment to assess, sticking on to the side of a building as his eyes tracked through the chaos in search of the source. He figured it out pretty quickly.

What can only be described as a green goblin soared through the skies on top of a metal... thing, smashing buildings to pieces with his gloved hands.

With a deep breath, he leapt into action, using the momentum from his swing to hit the goblin square in the jaw.

"Queens is not your personal playground!" he yelled, sticking on to the side of a building as he gauged the situation, "Though I'm sure you'll love it in prison! Maybe we should go there now? Save me the trouble of dragging you there -"

He was cut off as a car was thrown in his direction, Peter preventing it from crashing into the building with some cleverly timed webs.

"Well. That was rude."

"No spider tells me what to do" The goblin spat, "You are all beneath me - imbeciles - and should be treated as such!"

At the end of his sentence, he once again launched a car, Peter dodging and catching it once again. "What do you have against cars, dude?"

The cars kept coming, Peter attempting to find a way to subdue the goblin man whilst still making sure that the cars didn't hit him or anyone still in the surrounding area.

He managed to send another SOS to Wade, nerves setting in as he saw the goblin down a glass of green liquid, the man's veins popping out as he let out a scream.

"You shall all fall at my feet!"

"Yeah... the average New Yorker is not into that. Not to kink shame or anything - I'm sure the people who do like it are really happy with their choices - that's the key! Consent and choices -"

His phone buzzed, distracting him for a moment, just long enough to miss the broken off piece of scaffolding flying towards him. It impacted his side, arm faltering mid swing.

He fell to the ground, swearing at the impact.

It took a few seconds before the pain began to register, blood running down his side like a macabre waterfall. Legs weakening, he retreated to the nearest alleyway, dipping behind a dumpster.

"Spiderman! Come out and face me you coward!"

Peter winced, the wound in his side bleeding more heavily than he was comfortable with, red liquid spilling on to the floor as he shifted his weight in an effort to better take cover behind the dumpster.

He could hear the echoing steps of the goblin approaching, but couldnt seem to find it in his muddled mind to move.

Where was Wade?

The footsteps halted at the entrance of the alleyway. Peter could hear the goblin's breathing, closing his eyes as he accepted his fate.

Instead of the pain he was sure was coming, the footsteps retreated, seemingly chasing after something. A few moments later, a cacophony of noise filled the area, followed by quiet.

"Webs?"

Relief rushed through him, Peter managing a weak shout. Wade rushed towards him, looking around for a few seconds before spotting his scrunched up figure.

Peter choked out a weak laugh, moving his hand to reveal the extent of the damage. "Think I could use some of your plasters around now, 'pool"

The merc was eerily quiet, unmoving as he looked at the injury.

"Fuck - 's that bad, huh?" Peter asked, coughing slightly as he curled back in on himself.

That seemed to break Deadpool from his stupor, the man kneeling at his side in an instant. "Fuck, baby boy - I - I dont know what to do."

Gloved hands hovered over his, before retracting back, Wade beginning to whack himself on the head. "How do I fix this. No - fuck, fuck, shitty fucking fuck!"

Peter frowned, fighting through the haze that had started to descend on him in order to pat Wade's shoulder comfortingly, "It's 'kay, I'm fine! See?" He moved his hand from his shoulder to his cheek and attempted a smile. "I'm okay."

"I don't - I don't know how to fix this, Webs. You need a doctor... I need -" He dug through his pockets, whipping out the bedazzled hello kitty flip-phone. "Matt knows a nurse - she's fixed him up before maybe -"

Peter blinked heavily, a high pitched ringing sound starting to deafen his hearing. Fear began to rise within him, sitting heavily on his chest. It was bad - that much he knew, if only from Wade's reaction.

'if we wait until we're ready, we'll be waiting for the rest of our lives'

He nudged Wade's phone away from his ear, demanding his full attention. "I need you to know something."

"You can tell me when you're all better," Wade insisted, listing off their location to someone on the phone.

Peter frowned. "Wade. Please."

"I'm getting help, okay? Just let me get help -"

"I love you." Wade froze, hand tightening around the phone. At his lack of response, Peter continued. "I have loved you for months now. I love - I love your laugh, your smile... I love your voice. I love -"

He was interrupted by a cough, groaning as pain spread through his entire body, fresh blood splattered on his glove. Wade dropped the phone to the floor, applying pressure to his wound, panic clear in his voice.

"Peter -"

"I love your stupid band-aids. I love how they make me feel like I matter. Like you care -"

"I do care -"

"And if I die -"

"You're not going to die -"

"I need you to know how much you mean to me."

Wade's breath quickened, leaning over to yell 'hurry' into his phone. Peter's head felt light, the pain starting to feel more like weightlessness. Distantly, he noted that this was a bad thing.

Frowning, he pushed Wade's mask off, smiling as his eyes took in every crease and crevice of his face. He lifted his arm with great effort, faintly tracing over his cheekbone, down his jawline and finishing at his lips.

With his face bared, the spider could finally see the pure anguish worn on Wade's face.

"Don't be sad."

"Just - Stay with me Petey, you're going to be okay."

His eyes were so heavy, the lids closing against his will.

"I love you too!" Wade yelled, desperation seeping out of every pore. "Fucking goddamn to hell, I love you. Don't leave me -"

Peter couldn't help the grin that spread across his face, eyes fluttering as unconsciousness pulled him into oblivion.

"Over here! He's - help him!"

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

My Queen Chapter 5

Steve Rogers is the newly inherited Duke of Brooklyn, struggling to fix the mistakes of his parents while enduring an overbearing, matchmaking mother.  He has no intention of anything romantic in his future, but will a forced love connection with the Queen change his mind?

Warnings: smut, slight domestic violence, minor character death

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Steve came home late from another date one night to find his mother waiting for him.  “Goodnight, Ma,” he yawned, walking past her briskly trying to avoid a conversation.

“Steve, wait,” Sarah called after him, her slippers squeaking against the floor.  “You need to tell me how it’s going!  That was your eighth outing with her—“

“Eighth?  Are you keeping tabs on me now?” Steve accused, his eyes piercing as he looked at her.

“Of course I am, you’re dating the QUEEN, it’s my job to know what’s going on.  Have you talked about marriage yet?  What about combining your homes and families?  Children?  Have you had sex with her yet?”

“Ma!” Steve yelled incredulously.  

“You need to seal the deal, Steve!  Secure our future!” She wailed, clutching at his shirt.

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” Steve bellowed, shoving her hands away.  “My relationships are none of your business, no matter who they’re with!”  He stepped back, holding his hands up when she tried to speak again.  “Ma, you need to find a new place to live.”

Sarah scoffed.  “Excuse me?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” Steve said, rubbing his eyes and his face roughly.  “Go shack up with Lord Pierce for all I care.  As awful as he is, he seems to be your flavor of the week.”

Sarah gasped and tried to slap him, but he caught her wrist roughly.  His eyes were murderous as she stared up at him in fear.  “Get out of my house,” he growled before shoving her hand away and walking to his room.

The next morning he woke to the sound of his phone buzzing repeatedly.  He grabbed it and saw multiple missed calls from Y/N.  He quickly answered.

“Hello?” He grumbled and cleared his throat.

“Steve,” Y/N whispered harshly.  “Why is your mother here claiming you hurt her last night?”

Steve jolted up in bed.  “What?!”

Y/N sighed.  “She is here, crying and wailing about how her son twisted her wrist last night and kicked her out of her own house.”

Steve groaned at the audacity of the woman he called mother.  “Oh my fucking god,” he spat.  

“You need to get over here now,” Y/N said quickly.  “The Prime Minister wants to try to use this as a way to get rid of you.”

“What?  Why?”

“The Parliamentary takeover,” Y/N said angrily.  “He’s suggesting that I don’t know how to find a good match to be my prince consort, and if my judgment is bad here, then it will be bad for the government.”

“Shit,” Steve grunted.  “I’ll be there soon.”

Y/N didn’t answer, the phone going silent.  He quickly dressed to make himself presentable for the palace then drove like a bat out of hell to get to her.  When he arrived he was quickly ushered into what looked like a study.  Y/N sat at the desk with Sam standing next to her.  She stood when he walked in.  He bowed to her and then gave a slight head bow to the Prime Minister, a stern man named Thaddeus Ross, who sat on a chair next to the desk.  His mother was sitting across from Y/N at another chair, looking at him fearfully when he walked in.  

“Your Majesty, Prime Minister, Mr. Wilson,” he greeted them then looked at his mother.  “Mother.”

Sarah shivered dramatically.  “Stay away from me.”

Steve sighed quietly, trying to keep his wits about him.  He couldn’t lose his cool, not here, as much as she brought his anger out of him.  Y/N gestured for him to sit at a seat closer to her.  “Now, let’s figure this out,” Y/N said gently.  “Mrs. Rogers, how about you start from the beginning.”

Sarah gasped, sucking in her bottom lip as she looked at Y/N pitifully.  “Oh, Your Majesty, it was awful.  He came home and I was asking him about his night with you, and he yelled at me,” she said sniffling.  “Then he insulted me and my character and twisted my wrist.  He bruised me!”  She lifted her wrist, a deep purple bruise showing, shaking it at Y/N and Ross.  Y/N narrowed her eyes at Sarah’s wrist then turned to Sam and whispered something to him.  He nodded and quickly left the room.  “Then, he screamed at me to get out of my own house.  The gall!  I raised him,” she cried again, hiding her face in her arm as she sobbed nonexistent tears.

“I see,” Y/N said, trying to sound sorry.  “Your Grace?” She turned to Steve.

Steve nodded.  “I came home last night and my mother started asking me inappropriate and personal questions about my time and relationship with Your Majesty,” Steve rattled off the events of the previous night like it was a mission report.  He kept his eyes focused on the desk.  “I will admit I lost my temper, I did yell at her when she asked me something highly sensitive, and when I told her to stop and that it was none of her business I did tell her to find somewhere else to live.  My relationship with my mother has never been…a good one,” Steve glanced at Y/N for a moment.  Y/N nodded, her eyes looking sad for him.  “We fight often, and I did insult her by telling her to go, I believe I said, ‘shack up with her flavor of the week,’” he tightened his lips to stop himself from smiling bitterly.  “That’s when she tried to slap me, and I stopped her by grabbing her wrist.”

Y/N watched him for a moment before nodding and looking at her desk.  Just then the door opened and Sam walked in with another man.  “Ah, thank you Sam,” Y/N stood, shaking the newcomer’s hand.  “Dr. Banner, thank you for coming.  I’d like you to check on Mrs. Rogers’ wrist,” she said, gesturing to Sarah.  Sarah’s eyes bulged as Dr. Banner turned to her.  

“Of course, could I just see..?” He reached for her wrist.

“No!” Sarah slapped his hand away.  

“Mrs. Rogers we must make sure that you are not more seriously injured than it looks,” Y/N insisted, leaning against her desk, her head tilting while looking at Sarah.  

Sarah lifted her chin defiantly.  “Please Mrs. Rogers, this is serious,” Ross interjected, his eyes flicking back to Steve repeatedly.  

Sarah hesitantly lifted her hand up to Dr. Banner who gently grasped her fingers and inspected her wrist, turning it slightly.  Sarah winced unconvincingly as his thumb rubbed against the bruise.  He pulled his thumb back and a smudge of purple was on his fingertip.  “Is this…makeup?”

Sarah ripped her hand away from him.  Y/N took a long breath then sighed and rubbed her temples with her fingers.  “Mrs. Rogers, may I ask why you chose to lie to the Crown and waste my time?”  Sarah’s jaw kept moving but no noise came out.  “Right, well, Sarah Rogers, you are hereby stripped of your title.”  

“Your Majesty!”

“You are to collect your things and leave Brooklyn House.”

“You can’t do this it’s my house—“

“You LOST the house the moment your pathetic husband died!”  Y/N exploded, standing to her full height and towering over Sarah who shriveled against the chair she was in.  “Your son is the Duke and inherited that house.  And if it wasn’t for him, you would have lost everything.  And now by your own idiotic actions, you have lost everything.”  Y/N glared at her.  “You will leave this kingdom, and never return.  Do I make myself abundantly clear?”  Sarah nodded as tears streamed down her face.  “Sam?”  Sam moved quickly, gathering up Sarah and bustling her and Dr. Banner out of the room.  “Thaddeus,” Y/N turned to the Prime Minister.  He looked terrified after watching her actually yell at someone.  “If I hear any talk, any whisper, any shadow of a doubt in my abilities, my judgment, my decisions, or of a Parliamentary mutiny again, I will show you and the rest of your decrepit cronies the full potential of my wrath and power in this government.  Do I make myself abundantly clear?”  He nodded.  “Good day.”  Ross stood, bowed, and left the room quickly.

“Steve,” Y/N turned to him, his name sounding more like a sigh.  She looked like she was physically deflating.  “I’m sorry.”

Steve stood and walked over to her, his hands reaching up and cupping her face.  “You have nothing to be sorry about,” he said, his thumbs caressing the skin along her cheekbones.

“I do,” Y/N kept her eyes closed and nuzzled her cheek into his palm.  “For sending your mother away.  For Ross being an ass.  For having to subject you to some bullshit investigation that I knew was false from the start—“

“And that’s why I love you,” Steve said, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers.  “Because you knew I wouldn’t do that.  Because you believed me and stood up for me from the beginning.  And you threatened the second most powerful person in the kingdom just to keep me around.  Not gonna lie, that was pretty hot,” he chuckled as he kissed her forehead.  

“Oh really?” Y/N giggled.  “You like it when I’m being mean?”

“I wouldn’t say mean, but authoritative, no-nonsense, self-assured, confident, badass,” he scrunched his nose and nuzzled it against her nose.  “Okay, maybe a little mean.”

“Masochist,” Y/N teased him, smiling wider as her hands wrapped around his waist as he continued holding her face.  “Did you just say you love me?”

Steve stiffened, realizing what he’d said before.  “I…yes, I did.”

“Did you mean it?” Y/N asked, her tone becoming softer.

“Yes,” Steve breathed.  “And I know it’s too early for me to say that, and I don’t expect you to feel the same–”

“But I do,” she interrupted him, tightening her hold around him.  “I love you, Steve.”

He closed his eyes as he rested his head against her forehead again, exhaling the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.  When he opened his eyes he saw her looking up at him with the fire in her eyes that he loved, a deep want that was screaming at him to do something.  “Y/N,” he whispered, his eyes moving from her eyes to her lips.  

Y/N gave him a slight nod, and he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.  She responded quickly, her lips pushing back against his firmly as her fingers gripped his shirt at his back.  Their breaths became heavier as they kissed, Steve’s hands roaming from her face down to her neck then her mid back, pressing her body against his.  He suddenly lifted her up and onto the desk, making her legs open for him to stand between them.  Y/N hands moved to his front, her fingers skimming from his stomach up to his chest.  Steve nipped at her bottom lip, making her open her mouth and giving him the opportunity to lick along her lip and taste her.  She whimpered as she tasted him back, sucking at his lower lip.

A knock came at the door, making them both stop and Steve stepped away from her.  Y/N closed her legs and patted down her hair.  “Yes?”

The door opened to reveal Sam.  “I apologize Your Majesty—“ he stopped, looking at them both fidgeting with their appearances and Y/N sat on top of the desk.  “Um, did I interrupt something?”

“What is it Sam?”  Y/N ignored his question, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“Your lunch appointment is here,” Sam said.  

“Right.  I’ll be there shortly,” she nodded.  When he closed the door again Steve let out a little chuckle.  

“Duty calls,” he said before stepping toward her again.  He leaned down and kissed her nose.  “Go.  And I’ll text you about when I can see you again.”

Y/N hummed and gave him a smirk.  “You owe me more kisses, Your Grace.”

Steve smirked back at her. “As Your Majesty commands.”  

@jenniferpendragon

[questionableratatouille00]

𝙃𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙄 𝙏𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙇𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 (𝙄’𝙢 𝙂𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙔𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙚)

Pairing: Sam Wilson x reader

Summary: Cuddles in bed.

Warnings: fluff, orange juice blasphemy.

[Collection M. List]

“You didn’t go on a run today,” you mumbled, flipping over to face the man in question. “I wanted to spend more time with you.” He hums back. “It is the love holiday, after all.” He chuckled.

“True.” You smiled. “And what did you tell Bucky you were? The love doctor?”

Rolling his eyes, he opened his arms. “C’mere.”

You rolled into his arms, pressing yourself against his chest. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, a smile on his face.

“You should do this everyday.” You told him honestly.

“What if I enjoy my runs?” He raised a brow, flashing you a smile. You glanced at the gap between his teeth, one of the things you adored about him.

“Well, then that sucks.” You laughed a little. He laughed as well, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “I love you so much.” “Yeah, yeah. I love you too.” You replied. “I don’t wanna get outta bed.”

“Not even for breakfast?” He raised a brow at you again. “You love breakfast. It’s like your favorite thing in the whole damn world.”

“No, it’s your favorite thing,” you chuckled, smiling widely. “Mr. I-drink-orange-juice-straight-out-of-the-bottle. Disgusting.”

“You make out with me! Your tongue goes in my mouth and you draw the line at sharing juice?”

“It’s different.” You insist. “You know it, too.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He smiles warmly at you, his beautiful brown eyes making you melt.

“You’re the bestest.” You told him.

“Damn right.” He laughed. “Now I’m making breakfast.” He rolled away, getting out of bed. You groaned.

“No-o-o-o-o…” You whined.

A/n: I guess I should clarify that these are meant to be drabbles rather than oneshots—either way, thanks for reading!

graphics by @saradika-graphics

[eleganzadellarosa]

Business Before Pleasure

Part 1

💕 pairing: Cha Eun Woo x fem!reader, Cha Eun Woo x OC

✨ genres: Dark Romance, CEO!au, eventual smut

💕 summary: After losing your job, you pursue your dream of working as a secretary. What you thought would be a piece of cake, turns into more because your boss is a POS

✨ author’s note: This fic is based off of an IG pause game lol. This will be a multi part fic so I will upload them as I write. If you would like to be tagged when I upload, please leave a comment! This first part is short but I hope the following parts will be over 2K words. Thank you for reading and enjoy your day <3 P.S the pictures I'll be using for this are not what the character looks like, just as reference to their style or personality.

💕 word count: 2.26K

To say you hated your job was an understatement. You had been working as an at home event planner, only visiting the office for important meetings or to meet with certain clients. It's been 3 years since you started working for the company and to think you bared through the stress for this long should be counted as an achievement. Truthfully you stayed for the pay. Yes it wasn't amazing but it paid your bills and anything else necessary so it slightly outweighed the cons. Tonight however, you regretted your tenacity with how the woman on the other end was yelling at you. She complained and complained about how her entire event was ruined because of a simple mistake that wasn't even on the company’s part but she felt the need to be compensated.

"Yes ma'am, I understand the problem you're having and I'm doing my best to help you. However, I am only able to do that if you stop yelling."

That only seemed to fuel her anger more and she blurted some obscenities before hanging up on you. You rolled your eyes and looked over at the time. It was already 9:45 pm aka 45 minutes past your time to get off. You sucked your teeth and quickly clocked out before shutting down your computer and standing to stretch your legs. Punctuality was one of your biggest traits, especially when it came to your meals but with you staying over time, you had no energy to stand and make yourself dinner. Takeout was your best bet now and as you scrolled through the many options available, an email notification pops up on your screen. You cringed when you saw it was from your boss and already knew why he bothered emailing you so late.

He was an asshole to say the least. He always treated his employees like crap and would penalize them whenever they worked overtime. He especially seemed to hate you for some reason and you were never really sure why. You open the email and read its contents, predicting what you would see, only to be utterly shocked.

Dear Ms. Meng,

I am regretfully emailing you to inform you that due to complaints and interactions with your client tonight, we will unfortunately have to terminate your contract with us. At this time we are unable to reconsider this decision. We hope that you will succeed in your future endeavors.

Best Regards,

A.P Wilson

This could NOT be happening, especially after you took the time out to try and help her as best as you could with an issue that wasn't even your fault. You never received client complaints, so she would be the first and apparently last. You immediately scrolled through your contacts and selected your boss' number and gave him a call.

"Ah Ms. Meng I expected you to call. Unfortunately as I said in my email, the decision is not up for discussion."

"Mr. Wilson" you put on your best fake smile even though he couldn't see it on the other end of the call. "Would you care to inform me how one complaint from a client lead to my termination? Don't you think that's a bit much?"

"A bit much? You were 45 minutes over time with a client you weren't even being considerate to. She said you yelled at her and didn't help her at all. What am I, as a good boss, supposed to take from that?"

"I don't know, maybe ask your employee first before you just let them go? But I forgot, you have your head so far up your ass that you are so busy worrying about paying your employees extra for overtime that you didn't notice that she tried to get a full refund and then some for an issue that wasn't even our faults! Fuck you and fuck this company!"

You didn't even bother to hear what else he had to say and hung up. This job was never really worth it and maybe now you could get an office job that you actually preferred with a boss that you actually liked, no matter how hard those are to come by. You sat on your bed with your brows furrowed and tossed your phone to the other end. You were pissed and now you didn't even want dinner.

Flopping onto your stomach at the other end of your bed, you picked up your phone and immediately typed in a job searching website. Office jobs were common and shouldn't be that hard to find, yet after scrolling through almost 20 pages and finding nothing, you ended your search early. It was only the first day and unemployment should process quickly so you had a few months before you were flat broke. Surrendering to the growling in your stomach, you settle on some tacos for the night.

There was no point in sitting at home sulking when you could be enjoying your unintentional vacation. You never had much time for your friends before, so now was best to call them up to hang out. It was a unanimous decision on meeting at a cafe to chat and have some decent coffee.

"Hey girly!" your best friend Priya called out to you, wrapping an arm around you as she approached. "This is great, finally some time to yourself and time for me!"

Priya has been your best friend since high school. She was your ride or die, there for you whenever you needed her. She was on the much more outgoing side personality wise, but you liked that about her, it helped you get out of your comfort zone. To say this friendship was a blessing would be a severe understatement. You were grateful for her and so was she for you.

"How are you handling everything?"

"I'm doing great actually. I'm going to take this as a sign to go for what I really want." You push the door open for her and allow her to walk in.

"Optimistic as always. We love a consistent girl like you Faye."

A few minutes later, two more friends, Liz and Ada, popped into the cafe and happily rushed over to where you and Priya sat. You slid over to make space on your end of the booth for Ada to fit.

"Someone must have sold their soul to get this girl out." Ada says, bumping her shoulder against yours.

"Haha no, I actually got fired."

The whole table spent about 10 minutes cursing out your boss and praising how much of a good worker you were. As much as you hated how everything was handled, you were telling the truth when you said you were fine.

"Actually, one of my friends from college works at this business and they're looking for a new secretary. If you want, I can hook you up with all the info." Liz interrupts the "boss bashing" and you focus solely on what she has to say. "And I heard the boss is super hot."

You laughed and shook your head. She was always trying to be the matchmaker of the group and almost always ended up failing. You appreciated her efforts though, you haven't had a boyfriend or any love interests since highschool. Boys weren't really on your mind since you broke up with your last one, he was just like every other douchebag guy you knew of.

"Actually Liz, I'm going to have to take you up on that offer. Can you ask your friend if she minds that I have her number? I want to ask her about a few things before I apply."

She quickly nodded and immediately got to typing on her phone.

This was it. Your dream job coming true before your eyes and you didn't know how to handle the happiness. It checked off all the marks you wanted and then some. Sure there were a few things you didn't like about the job but nevertheless, it was what you wanted and you didn't let the chance pass you by.

Today your interview was scheduled for "noon sharp" as the secretary informed you just a few days before. You were all about great first impressions, so you made sure to be here 15 minutes early.

The building was huge and slightly overwhelming. You walked through the revolving doors that lead to the large space. It made you feel important and like the characters you would see on dramas that scanned their key cards to get past the turnstile gates.

There was a middle aged fair skinned woman sitting at a large desk on which the words "information" was read, with a phone between her face and shoulder.

"Hello, can I help you?" She looks at you with a bubbly smile, teeth pearly white.

"Yes, I have an interview with EWX"

"Oh yes, they're expecting you. Take this elevator on the left and go to the 4th floor."

You silently thanked her and waved goodbye as she took another call. The more the elevator ascended, the more your anxiety rose. It's been years since you were last on an interview and you suddenly felt like you left all your experience and skills with your old job. The elevator dinged when it reached the 4th floor and the two doors opened. There was another woman at the front desk on this floor and she smiled when she saw you.

"You must be Faye, here for the interview?"

"I am! Do I need to sign in?"

"Not at all, go ahead and take a seat and they'll be out here shortly."

You sat in the small waiting area for about 5 minutes before you heard someone call your name. When you turned around and looked, there was a girl, seemingly around your age looking over the front desk to see where you sat. Admittedly you were short, but she looked past you as if expecting to see someone a bit older.

"Oh, you're Faye?"

"Yes, I am." You chuckled and put your hand out to shake hers.

She sneered and hesitated to shake your hand. "Wonderful.” She says, sarcasm heavily laced in her voice “Right this way."

You didn't want to think negatively about her behavior but there was only one way to assess it. That's not what you were here for though and you wouldn't let it affect your professionalism. When you entered the interview room, there were two other people there; a man and another woman.

The interview went well. They asked you about yourself, your work history and how you found out about this position. They appeared to be pleased with your answers and said they would be contacting you within the next few days.

The first girl you met eventually introduced herself as Ashley and walked you back out to the waiting room.

"Don't get your hopes up, the boss doesn't really like people like you and most people don't last long."

You looked at her as you pressed the button for the elevator. "Do you mind elaborating on 'people like me'?" She was leaving a bad taste in your mouth but you gave her one last chance to turn it around.

"You know, extremely bubbly, overzealous. Just stop trying so hard and maybe you'll have a chance."

You wanted to roll your eyes. She obviously either has a crush on this man or secretly fucks him and thinks she's better than everyone else, but you bet money it was the former. "Well Ashley, I guess we'll just have to see if the boss wants 'someone like me' to be a breath of fresh air after dealing with someone like you." The elevator opened as you finished your sentence and you stepped in. "Have a great day!"

It's been 3 days since you last spoke with them and the weekend was quickly approaching. It was only your first interview so you knew not to put all your eggs in one basket, but you really wanted for it to work out.

You stood at the stove, phone propped up against your toaster as you made yourself a quick lunch. "I'm so excited to hear back from them whether they want me or not."

"I'm glad you're looking on the bright side and not letting it get you down." Ada praises your optimism and confidence.

"Same and for not letting that jealous bitch get to your head." Priya added.

"I'm sorry if they say no, I'm going to feel like it's my fault for even mentioning it." You looked over and saw a pout on Liz's face.

"Aww Lizzie, don't feel that way. I'm actually so much more eager about finding this type of work so this interview was a big step."

Just then, a number you don't have saved rings your line and you quickly put your friends on hold to answer it.

"Yes, is this Ms. Meng?"

"Yes, speaking!"

"Oh great, this is Sabrina with EWX, I was just letting you know that we would like to offer you the position. Are you still interested?"

"That would be wonderful!"

"Great! We would love for you to come in this Monday to get a fresh start and learn the ropes. Is that too sudden?"

"Not at all! Thank you again for this opportunity and I will see you all Monday!"

"Wonderful, it was a pleasure speaking with you Ms. Meng and we'll see you Monday!"

You quickly switched back over to the group call with your friends and they immediately knew of the great news with the huge smile you wore. They all screamed, clapped and congratulated you.

You never expected to get over this big hump so quickly but you were no less than grateful. This was big for you and you couldn't wait to see what your new job had in store.

[doctorobrt]

haii !! could u do maybe william n reader(maybe gn reader ?:3) have a sleepover even tho theyre adults ? like they do silly sleepover activities like building a fort, watching movies, face masks, etc :3

Hey! I can absolutely do that for you lovely, I might add my own kind of twist onto it if that's alright with you! I'll keep both Will and the reader at around 20 years old, it's kind of that age where you still enjoy silly things meant for teenagers but also get embarrassed by them so you prefer to call sleepovers 'hangouts'..

This is quite long I believe, so sorry in advance.

College Student William Afton x College Student GN Reader

Being an adult had its perks, going to concerts or buying a house - if you really felt the need. There wasn't a huge amount of things to do compared to that of being a teenager, and to be frank, life just seemed all a bit more serious now.

Given the bigger responsibilities and need to pay for yourself, the joy seemed to be sucked from all of the things you used to find amusing as a careless teenager. College wasn't dreadful though, you got to see your friends and spend time away from the house and your parents. The subject you chose however... if there was one thing that could bore you into a coma, it would be maths.

The day had dragged and Mr. Wilson seemed more stringent than ever. He had requested the floors be redone in his classroom after the incident earlier in the year which left him toppled over, face first on the floor. Since that day, he had taken strict action by adding heaps of oil to the hinges of the door and making sure he arrived an hour earlier in mind of rush hour traffic.

This had clearly taken a toll on him as he lay slouched in his drab leather chair, snoring sonorously whilst armies of heavy raindrops tapped against the windows.

After a long, long wait for the clock to hit 4pm, you bundled all of the pens and paper from the desk into your bag before making an anticipated beeline for the college doors. It was short lived relief however, as the bus wasn't in it's normal parking spot. Due to the weather, and state of the poor old vehicle, it was going to take another 25 minutes for it to fight through the dismal downpour.

Home was too far of a walk in this weather and the thought of calling your parents home from work to pick you up was just as threatening.

The world seemed unnaturally dark, as if the light had been drained from the sky replaced by dark, gloomy clouds massing above your head. Rain tumbled down a great deal heavier than earlier, the small bus shelter was beginning to feel over crowded and the pungent smell of sweat had become rather noxious to inhale.

Huffing audibly to yourself and accepting the nauseating fate, you stood in the cramped bus shelter and tolerated it. That was until an obnoxiously loud blare of a car horn and beckoned you over. It was William, he had stayed on longer to discuss a project he'd been working on with the technicians teacher. What a little life saver!

Rapidly checking both sides of the road, you bolted over to his cherry red Ford Consul Capri, very classy if you do say so yourself, and slammed the door shut before the pelting rain could ruin the polished leather seats.

"Bloody hell you are a god send mate" You panted whilst wiping strands of soggy hair from your forehead.

"I wasn't beeping for you to come over love." He responded as his brows furrowed at your presence.

Oh. No. How utterly embarrassing. Your jaw hung open in disbelief as rose pigment stung your cheeks.

"Oh my gosh I'm so sorry, I'll wait for the bus." You stammered in humiliation. His gaze was scrutinising, you couldn't bare to return the eye contact.

"Nah I'm pulling your leg mate." He goaded whilst grinning mischievously, "The look on your face though, class."

"Knobhead"

"Right. If you're free we can head back to mine, Mum and Dad went to Switzerland yesterday so the house is completely empty."

"Alright ace, I'll come and keep you from being lonely you little man child." You teased back, "Joking! Joking. Please don't leave me out in the rain like a little sodden mouse."

He sighed and rolled his eyes before starting up the pristine car to head back home.

William lived in a posh area of the village, although his house wasn't overly showy or obnoxious like the others. His parents were owners of a large mechanics dealership in London so he was loaded, but he wouldn't gloat his wealth.

A few more turns, after a very much appreciated twenty minute drive, and you pulled up on a gravel driveway. The pair of you grabbed your bags and sprinted to the front door as the rain picked up and cracks of thunder boomed in the gloomy horizon.

"Hurry up and open that door!" You shrieked just as the crooked gutter snapped and drenched you head to toe in grimy rain water - Not Will though, he hogged the porch.

As soon as the heavy wooden door swung open, you lunged into the front room. It'd be the respectful deed to compliment the house, albeit overridden by organised clutter, but the sludge dripping into your eye was truly the top of your concerns.

"Don't laugh, I can literally see you snickering."

William was wide eyed and speechless, the urge to laugh was becoming overwhelming at this point. He signalled to the room at the bottom of the lengthy hallway and welcomed you to use the bath, the offer was too good to resist, so you grabbed your dripping wet bag and shivered all the way down the corridor, slamming the door shut and immediately twisting the hot tap onto full power.

"I've got some tea here waiting," William announced faintly, "Oh, and I got scrabble out too if you want to play?"

"Alright then, I'll hop out when I finish washing my hair."

"I left some of my old pyjamas outside for you too." He replied hesitantly, "I'll be in the lounge."

Climbing out of the lukewarm water, you grabbed a towel from the radiator and patted yourself down. The door creaked open slightly as you turned the handle, allowing space for your hand to slip through and take the white button down pjs from the mat outside.

"I'll be over now," You called down the hall, "Give me a second!"

You snatched a pair of navy slippers from the shoe rack and made your way into the dimly lit living room.

"Cor it's nice and warm in here."

"Your tea's going cold mind." He nodded to the sofa opposite of him, "Sit on that one over there if we're playing scrabble."

Perching on the edge of the leather settee, you picked out seven tiles from the green drawstring pouch and set them onto the wooden stand.

"Are you kidding me?" William leant back in his chair and scoffed, "Right, you first."

Squinting at the seven letters before you, you reorganised them into many different sequences. D, I, Z, O, I, X, E. Doze... no, Doe.. too short, iodize..? Suddenly, you visualised a word which used all of the tiles and scrambled them into place.

"Oh mate get ready for this." You slid the stand onto the board with a smirk spread across your face. Slowly, you arranged the word 'Oxidize' onto the beginning squares. "Twenty one, twenty two... only twenty four points for that, but add on the fifty for the seven letters and that takes it up to... 74!"

"You cheater you have a dictionary." He accused in envy of the high score whilst jotting it down on a scrap of paper.

"Do not! Your turn now, lets see your scrabble skill."

Rolling his eyes and picking up a single tile from the stand in front of him, he placed a measly O beneath the D.

"Oh dear..." You chuckled into your fist, "Vowels?"

He shot you a cruel glare and confirmed your query with a quick nod. The game continued on for half an hour until the competitive nature became increasingly tiring, especially since William kept placing an S after all of your words, so you got up and clambered into the space beside him.

"We haven't eaten yet."

"I think there's a pot of beef stew in the fridge." He answered defeatedly, "Or we can listen to my dad's vinyl instead?"

Food sounded perfect, but knowing William's family he probably owned some of the latest LPs released by the biggest artists around right now.

"Alright then you lazy cow, how about we listen to some vinyl then?" You returned a grin and made your way over to the fancy box of LPs adjacent to the shiny, high tech record player.

The selection inside was truly magnificent, The Supremes album 'Meet The Supremes', The Rolling Stones debut record, 'Surfin' USA' from the Beach Boys followed by a dozen Chuck Berry sleeves. This was like a dream come true.

After a brief while of overthinking your choice, you picked out The Beatles' latest album 'A Hard Day's Night' and carefully placed it atop the platter, mindful of its mint condition, and flicked the plug socket on. Soon enough the record began spinning around, so, you picked up the needle and gently positioned it onto the lead in groove.

It crackled faintly before crashing into the first song, the fast paced melody was joyfully upbeat - perfect for dancing. You smiled to yourself, overjoyed with emotions, before turning your attention back to William. He watched on fondly as you tapped your foot to the tune, occasionally out of time but nonetheless you were enjoying yourself.

"Come on then!" You desperately encouraged him to join in, tugging the sleeve of his shirt.

He latched his hands into the warm hold of yours and moved them hastily up and down, over and over in an attempt of dancing until the song faded out. As the next began to play, a dreadful clatter reverberated around the room.

"Oh dear, it's never done that before." Tilting his head at the needle, he took a cloth from the side table to clean the end of the cartridge. Carefully placing it onto the following track, he rose onto his feet and stepped backwards. The soft crackle returned and a delicate symphony of voices and instruments chimed from the speakers.

'If I fell in love with you Would you promise to be true'

"Suiting song." You jested and prodded his chest with a finger.

Chuckling at your playful gesture, he took a hold of your hands once more - this time, however, he moved them rather languidly. The storm outside worsened and the crashing bolts of lightning echoed through the town formidably. Swaying in each others arms, the soothing rhythm lulled the both of you into a state of bliss.

'And I found that love was more, than just holding hands.'

He rose his arm above your head, motioning you to twirl around whilst humming along to the song. Melting back into his frame, you followed his steps and chortled as he tripped over the carpet. The both of you smiled at one another as the chorus of instruments soothed to an end.

'When she learns we are two If I fell in love with you...'

~

A/N - Oh my gosh... This took way too long. It definitely isn't my favourite fic ever but I always put a lot of effort into researching the year I write about so it doubled the time it should've taken by like a million years ugh. If you didn't know, I tried to set it in late July 1964 hence A Hard Day's Night being the latest record Will has - He's totally a Rolling Stones over The Beatles kind of guy though. I hope you enjoyed this xxx oh and thank you for being so patient holy moly

[inneedofsupervision]

An Enemy? A Friend? No, just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman.

Chapter 4: The Pros and Cons of Enhanced Senses

Summary:

"Come on, Parker, say something. But don't make it embarrassing," thinks Peter. "Those are your childhood heroes, and they want something from you. Just say hi like a normal person." "Good evening, Mr. Barton, Sir. Mr. Wilson, Sir." "How do you know our names," asks Clint, sounding genuinely curious. "You have a Wikipedia page!" blurts Peter out before wincing inwardly. There goes his plan for a non-embarrassing first impression. "You've read our Wikipedia pages?" asks Sam slowly, as if saying the words slowly would let them make more sense. "Twice, actually." ________________________________ Are the Avengers a Team? Yes. Are they on good terms? Not necessarily. Has the public caught up on that? Maybe a little. When Fury sends the team on the mission to investigate the identity of New York's favorite vigilante, they have to learn to work as a team and not damage their already battered image. Or, the story of how the Avengers have to earn the public's trust back with the help of a certain crime fighting Spider.

Chapter Summary: Peter goes to the Avengers Tower, but the meeting doesn't go as planned.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 5

Read on Ao3

"There's no need to worry, Peter. Just your childhood heroes who are inviting you into their tower. Do you know what they want? No. Is that a bad thing? Hopefully not."

The pigeon coddling on the ventilation system next to the masked figure tilts its tiny head. Small red eyes stare at the black goggles. Peter doesn't let the silence get to him.

"What could go wrong?" asks the teen, voice chipper with set-up enthusiasm. The bird holds eye contact for two seconds before promptly sticking its head between its plump body and wing. Peter rolls his eyes before letting his head fall with a deep sight into the gloved hands.

"You're right, Mr. Pigeon. If I could, I would hide too. There shouldn't be a problem talking with the Avengers, but at the same time, it's freaking me out. This entire situation with Mr. Barton and Mr. Wilson had been so weird! Why would my Spidey-sense react to them? It hasn't failed me once, but it also doesn't specify what it's warning me about, and I am just confused as to why it would warn me in the first place. I mean, it's the Avengers!"

Peter turns towards his feathered audience, not taking a break, even beginning to talk faster as his voice raises a pitch.

"How does one even act in that kind of situation? Do I tell them about myself or only answer after getting talked to? What if this isn't about me but about a mission, and I start talking and don't stop because I suck at recognizing social clues. They are too polite to interrupt me, and when I finally realize what happened, I have already managed to make a fool of myself?"

The pigeon flaps its wings in warning, accompanied by disgruntled gurgling, when he straightens up without warning. Peter runs his hands over his mask and head before interlacing his fingers behind his head. He begins pacing in a circle before coming to a sudden halt. His eyes lock onto a building towering over the rest a few blocks away. If he swings, he could reach it in under a minute.

"Oh god, imagine that happens for real," whispers the teen before making another circle, walking around the roof like a caged animal. "In less than twenty minutes, I'll embarrass myself in front of the Bruce Banner and Tony Stark!" He comes to another sudden halt before glancing towards the pigeon, his face growing serious. "I can't do this. I have to leave NYC and go into hiding."

The bird had calmed down from fright, but its piercing eyes now carried distrust as it wouldn't let the vigilante out of sight. The soft gurgle and curr could mean anything from, "Don't worry, it's going to be alright, Spider-Man!" to "You do realize you're just a guest on this roof, right?"

To not further aggravate the animal and not worsen his friendship with the pigeons of New York, Peter bids the still wary bird goodbye before swinging, a tad reluctantly, towards the Avengers Tower.

"I still don't like this," mutters the teen while he places one hand after the other. He grimaces at the sound of sirens in the distance. He'd rather be anywhere than here. Despite his nerves being on edge, he cannot bite back a grin as he clambers up the glassed facade and past an office where an off-guard caught staff gives a sharp scream at his sight. It seems the people of this district of New York don't expect to witness Spider-Man sticking to a window on the 52 floor of a building. Maybe that's a sign for him to visit Manhattan more often. Despite the shock, the woman doesn't hold back in responding to Peter's wave with a timed one. Even though climbing up a building like the Avengers Tower isn't much of a challenge for Spider-Man, Peter could swear his heart was ready to jump out of his chest after he swung over the railing.

"Huh. I've not expected a welcoming committee, but this is disappointing."

Peter straightens up, stemming his hands on his hips as he scans the area. He relaxed slightly at the sight of the deserted balcony and the unlit penthouse behind, having reckoned that it wouldn't take two seconds after arriving for the Avengers to be informed and someone coming up to meet him. Peter lets his eyes wander over the city, noticing that the tower wasn't the tallest building in Manhattan, but the sight was still a treat. He had always wanted to stand on the very top of the tower just because he could but had been too afraid to anger the domiciled heroes and get hit by one of Mr. Stark's undoubtedly built-in defense mechanisms. Nearing the entrance, Peter nearly jumps out of his skin when the door slides open. Rubbing his hot-growing neck sheepishly, he coughs into his fist as if he didn't just flinch.

Of course, Mr. Stark's penthouse holds automatic doors, genius.

Acting like nothing happened, he carefully steps into the living area. One light after another turns on the further he walks into the room. "That's a little dramatic."

Unimpressed by the light show, Peter reminds himself he wasn't here to judge anyone's eccentric interior lighting.

"Hello, Mr. Wilson, Sir? Mr. Barton?"

No matter which direction he glances, he seems to be the only person in the penthouse. A sour smell tickles his nose, and Peter squints at the two wine glasses on the couch table. They are the only sign somebody does live here. It's a stark contrast to their apartment in Queens. He cannot spot one framed picture apart from a large painting, holding as much personality as the trash bin in front of the building. The penthouse is void of small keepsakes or clothes hastily thrown over a chair or a couch and no pillows or blankets to cuddle into. Even the cream-colored carpet does only one, looking expensive, and Peter does a large bow around it.

He clears his throat before, once again, calling, this time a little louder.

"Hello? Anybody?"

His shoulders slump in defeat. "If I only remembered the floor and room number... What time is it anyway?"

"It's currently 6:51 pm."

"Who's there?!" Peter perches on the ceiling, his fingertips grazing the trigger of his web-shooters while his eyes frantically scan the room. His heart is ready to jump out of his body, every strand of muscle pulled taunt to sprint up to the balcony and jump into safety. He lets out the tiniest huff of breath after registering that the room is still empty. His body relaxes minuscule, relieved that no one became witness to him freaking out and maybe letting out a not-so-manly squeak as he literally hit the roof.

The female-sounding voice seems to come out of nowhere and from everywhere at once. Without the warning of Peter's sixth sense, it managed to catch the vigilante totally off guard. It was not his proudest moment.

"Pardon me, Spider-Man. It had not been my intention to startle you. I am FRIDAY, Mr. Stark's personal asisstent. Can I be of assistance?"

Peter crawls slowly towards a corner of the ceiling, squinting at something that barely stands out, and without FRIDAY speaking, he might not have caught it. The tiny speakers blend in almost perfectly with the wall.

"FRIDAY? asks the teen at the familiar name while his feet hit the floor.

"Like the artificial intelligence that controls all the electronic systems inside the Avengers Tower and Compound and installed into every Iron Man armor and which got selected as the most advanced AI of last and this year by the Science-Journal?"

Peter had trouble controlling his voice to not double over in excitement. He couldn't believe it. He is seriously talking to Mr. Stark's AI, which he had read so much about.

"It's always a pleasure meeting a fan," responds FRIDAY, and if Peter weren't fighting to keep his reputation as a vigilante, he would have started clapping and jumping in a circle from sheer excitement. But he couldn't get side-tracked. He still had to find out where he had to go.

"FRIDAY, I am here to meet the Avengers. Could you inform them that I'm here?" Mr. Stark's AI doesn't have to know he forgot where to go, right?

"I will inform them immediately. Is there anything else, Spider-Man?"

Maybe it's wish-thinking, but Peter could swear that FRIDAY sounds kinder than before. Is it possible to win an AI's sympathy? Peter shrugs his shoulders. But this isn't any AI, though. In Mr. Stark's tower, anything could be possible. Peter is about to decline when a question comes up.

"If nobody's here, you have let me in, right?"

"That is correct, Sir."

The teen's nose scrunches up at the formal title.

"Isn't that kind of risky?" he asks before quickly adding, "Not that I'm planning anything, just curious."

"I am acting on Mr. Stark's personal orders."

He glances up to throw a confused look at one of the cameras.

"That was Mr. Stark's order?"

Before he could quiz her further, the echo of boots hitting polished stone interrupts him. Peter frowns as he listens to the nearing footsteps. He recognizes the walk of Mr. Wilson, but the person accompanying him couldn't be Mr. Barton, that's for sure. Someone clears their throat, and Peter turns around only to feel lucky for wearing his mask, or else he would look like an absolute fool with his mouth hanging open and widened eyes.

"So that's what happens if someone like me gets pumped up with the super soldier serum," marvels Peter in thought as he musters Captain America from head to toe. From what he had read, Steve Grant Rogers hasn't been much older than Peter is now as he wormed his way into the military. He had seen pictures of the unofficial leader of the Avengers, but watching Captain America live and in color was a different matter. The sight of the bulging muscles under a thin white shirt leaves him thanking whatever greater force that his transformation after the spider bite hasn't taken such a drastic visual change. Explaining that would be impossible. Expect people would settle with the excuse of him changing his diet and hitting the gym regularly.

"But not without steroids," mutters the teen while trying to pry his eyes off the intimidatingly defined pecs.

"What was that?" asks Mr. Wilson, one eyebrow raised.

Oh god, don't tell him they heard that. Peter could swear he mumbled that quite enough for no one to catch his words.

"Oh, ehm, nothing. Sorry for not coming to the conference room. I, well, this is kinda embarrassing, but I kinda forgot the room number."

Mr. Wilson rolls his eyes but seems to accept his sorry excuse. Peter wants to cheer for successfully changing the subject before he makes the mistake of glancing at Mr. Rogers. The man's face is stuck somewhere between a scowl and unreadable as if he had trouble choosing one expression to keep. Great. He definitely heard him. Without a word, Mr. Rogers turns, closely followed by Mr. Wilson. Peter opens his mouth but closes it again, simply walking after the two. An uncomfortably awkward elevator ride later, Peter finds himself shoved into a large room.

"Wait here."

Peter looks after the two men like a puppy whose owner had tied him up in front of a store. When the door falls shut, he turns, glancing around the room. There are chairs, tables, and a whiteboard. Even without his Spider-Man suit, a high schooler like him in this room is severely out of place.

Peter's fingers absentmindedly glide over the smooth table surface before jumping onto the backrest of a chair as he makes his way over to the windows. Gazing down and scanning the city below, his patrol mannerisms kick in. His eyes methodically fly over the streets while he focuses his hearing on any abnormalities. He could hear the howling of motors at a crossroad, the bass of the first clubs letting people in.

"What do you mean Tony won't be back until tomorrow noon?"

"We can handle this on our own, Dr. Banner. We will talk to him and collect the information for SHIELD. We can manage this without Stark."

Oh. Peter shouldn't eavesdrop. Probably

In case the room is under supervision, the teen walks with his hands behind his back along the windows with picture-perfect innocence. He makes a show of stretching before leaning against the wall and looking outside, head barely tilted. Captain America's voice is as clear as if the hero bent down to talk directly into Peter's ear.

"Knowing Stark, he will only make gathering the information harder. You know his temper, Dr. Banner. He isn't easy to get along with, and we can't have him risk failing the mission."

"You invite a person with unknown powers into the tower when the owner's away and plan to keep it a secret? What if he attacks one of us or destroys something?"

"As if Stark doesn't have enough money to rebuild the tower and put a second one next to it."

"That's not the point, Clint," interrupts Mr. Wilson.

"I'm not too keen on having him here too. I still think we should have brought him to the helicarrier."

"As if he would have gone there voluntarily. You've seen him yesterday on the roof. Spidey is skittish with a capital S. I'm surprised we got him here."

"You're straying from the topic, Clint." That was a woman's voice.

"Can somebody explain to me why we have to do this again? Do we have any data of the guy doing something important enough for us to look his way? You guys haven't been there yesterday, but he isn't normal, and I'm not talking about his powers. We invite him to the tower, and he declines because he doesn't have time. I repeat he doesn't have time to meet the Avengers. We tell him a time and place to meet, and he turns up elsewhere, asking us to get him. Maybe we should have rolled the red carpet out on our way. Our resident narcissist is enough already. I won't put up with a second one."

During Mr. Wilson's rant, Peter's eyes lost focus. He leans numbly against the wall, barely hearing Mr. Barton agreeing. He swallows thickly, but the lump in his throat is persistent in tightening his airway. Peter feels like zoning out, head empty as he hears nothing but his heartbeat pulsing in his ears before he takes a stuttering breath.

"-cannot ignore Fury's order to keep a low profile. I know you don't like this, but we have to put up with it. We cannot hurt Spider-Man. We get the information by talking to him, nothing else. If it needs him to rebuild our public image, we need to take this opportunity seriously. During the last mission, the collateral damages made the public lose some of their trust in us. We need to up our image-

Why is it suddenly so hot? His face feels hot. His neck feels hot. He's not even wearing the spandex suit, but his backup, the one with the worn-out sweater and tracking pants, but the clothes suddenly feel too tight. The damn lump just won't go away no matter how often he swallows, and why does everything look so flipping blurry!? Peter wants to rip off his mask and check the lenses for any damage as he blinks furiously. He closes his eyes, trying to calm down and uncurl his tightly balled fists.

He has to get out of here. He can't do this. Not now.

"FRIDAY? A-are you here?"

"Yes, Spider-Man. Can I be of assistance, Sir?"

"I just remembered I have a.... some very important business! Yeah, super important, and I- I seriously have to go now."

"Should I inform the Avengers to delay this meeting?"

"Yes, thank you very much, FRIDAY. Also, could you open the window, please?"

He briefly wonders why Mr. Starks AI was listening to him, but the thought gets pushed aside by the instant relief of seeing a window sliding open.

"Thank you a bunch, FRIDAY. It was a pleasure to meet you. Gotta go now, bye."

"The pleasure is mine, Spider-Man."

The sound of chairs getting pushed back in the room next to him was his clue to go. Without hesitation, Peter leaps out of the room as if the devil personally was tailing him. The night air feels amazing against his flushed skin, and Peter feels like he can finally breathe after shooting his webs and bringing a few blocks of distance between himself and his former childhood heroes.

_______________________

When May walked into the apartment around half past ten, she had a plan. Tiptoe into the kitchen, drink a cup of valerian tea, and skip a late dinner before heading straight to bed. Her whole body aches, from the tightness between her shoulders to her tired feet, the double shift taking its tribute. The hunger kicking in around six has left, exchanging place for an all-consuming exhaustion. Maybe the same exhaustion is a fault for her brain to need two long seconds before registering the TV light flickering against the walls.

"Peter?" she calls from the entrance as she slips out of her shoes, taking note of her nephew's sneakers lying hazardous next to the door, tossed there in a hurry. Rolling her eyes, she picks them up and places them on the shoe rack next to hers.

"Peter?" she repeats as she hangs up her jacket when she receives no answer. She rounds the corner, only to find the teen in question bundled up in a blanket, cozily tucked into the corner of their worn-out couch. At first, she thought he was sleeping, but coming closer, she caught a glimpse of his eyes. She frowned slightly.

"Hi, darling. Why are you still up? You're not getting sick, are you?"

Peter's eyes look glassy. A few used tissues were lying on the floor, but she didn't bother to remind him to throw them away. At the sight of his reddened nose and pale cheeks, her hand rose instinctively to check his temperature.

Peter blinks at her tiredly.

"Sorry, I got lost in thought. Do you think we could eat together?"

"Sorry, I got lost in thought. Do you think we could eat together?"

"You haven't eaten until now?"

May is about to reach for his forehead again, Peter's words causing her concern to grow, but a hand blocks her attempt at checking his temperature for a second time.

"I ate at Ned's but am still hungry."

Peter's expression is hopeful, practically begging her with his eyes to keep from sending him to bed. She glances at the teen with a thoughtful look, the latter obliviously trailing into the kitchen, setting up water to boil. She walks after him where Peter had set up the table and waits for her with two frozen pizzas in his hands.

"Tuna or Pizza Hawaii?"

"Tuna. You need your fruits."

He grins before turning his back to her to shove their improvised late-night dinner into the oven.

"Take these with you. We eat in the living room." His eyes flicker up to her, but he doesn't protest, silently taking the plates and walking over to the couch. May gets the tea and puts their cups down. Not a minute later, Peter begins to shift in his place, wordlessly shuffling closer. May leans back onto the couch and puts an arm up onto the backrest. Peter gives her a grateful smile as he cuddles into her side. May waits patiently and gets rewarded not a minute later when Peter takes a large breath, only to hesitate, mouth closing before a word comes out. She could basically hear the clocks running inside his head. He tries again, sitting straight in his seat.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Hmm," hums May thoughtfully, "You can ask me almost anything."

Peter lifts his head where he had put it on May's shoulder to frown at her. May grins in unconcealed amusement, causing the teen to huff before he settles back down.

"Before I ask, I have to let you know that this is completely hypothetical," begins the teen, not seeing how May raises her eyebrows at his words.

"Completely hypothetical, I got it," she humors him, eying the way Peter's fingers are playing with a loose seam of his pants.

"So, just imagine you have a project you are working on. It's something you put a lot of effort and work into. It gives you a reason to be proud of yourself, and you enjoy working on it. Now, say you have some people you look up to. These people work on a similar project as you do but on a larger scale, like they are best in the field. You have always thought very highly of them, and they are your role model at this point, and somehow, you have gotten the chance to meet them."

The fingers playing around come to a stop, choosing to clench around the fabric instead. May began rubbing her hand up and down on Peter's arm when the teen's posture grew tense during his explanation. Peter doesn't look up once while talking, eyes fixed onto the old carpet and a particularly tenacious red wine spill that had been there forever.

"You are about to meet them, waiting to be let in. The door stands slightly open, and you happen to hear them discuss your project. They don't know it's you who works on the project. They wanted to meet you because of a different matter."

May drew her eyebrows together as a knowing look crossed her face. She had a hunch about where this was going. She softly squeezes his shoulder, spending silent comfort. "What did they say about your project?"

Peter looks up and frowns at her. "It's not my project, Aunt May. I told you this is a completely hypothetical."

"I'm sorry, I forgot. What did the people in the hypothetical scenario say about the project?"

He ignores the teasing tone in her voice, eyes wandering back to the red wine stain. He fidgets in his seat. "As I said, these people are at the top of their field and used to big-scale projects, right? Well, one of their supervisors is interested in your project and set them up to look at it since they are experts. While you wait, you can hear them talk among themselves about how annoying it is having to look into something so trivial as your project. Some of them declare it a waste of time and resources, and if it weren't for the fact that they need to, they would never even consider looking at it."

May notices with concern how Peter's words grew a little shaky at the end of his explanation. His Adam's apple bobs up as he swallows thickly. She watches him tugging his legs up on the couch and towards his chest, hugging them close before gazing up at her with suspiciously moist eyes.

"I think they hate it, May."

Hypothetical scenario or not, May swears the people who caused her nephew to carry such a heartbroken expression are about to lose their heads if they should ever meet. He says it with such sincerity that she knows he believes it. Unmeant or not, someone managed to make Peter doubt himself, and that person's words had cut him deep, and May hated how she couldn't do anything about it. She figures the story does not end here as she cards her hand through Peter's hair, attempting to make him feel better. "How does the scenario continue, sweetie?"

Peter draws another shaky breath, subconsciously leaning closer.

"Well, after hearing them talk about your project, you figured these people aren't what you thought they'd be like. As I mentioned, they don't know you're behind the project. They ask you for a favor on a different matter, and it turns out they seriously need your help, but now that you know what kind of people they are, you aren't sure if you should help them. The favor they need you for requires working as a team. You aren't obligated to help them, and you know they don't plan to repay you, but if you help them with their current project, it could help many other people."

"You are wondering if it's selfish to decline, aren't you?"

Peter sits up straight to look at her. "If you don't say yes, then the people who potentially could get help but aren't getting it are on you."

May takes her tea and brings it to her lips. She was glad Peter didn't go to sleep with these thoughts weighing him down and wanting to talk about what was bothering him. At the same time, May feels heavy-chested by the idea her nephew struggled with this in the first place. She wished she knew what exactly was hiding behind this hypothetical scenario, as Peter likes to call it.

"The idea behind that might sound mature and noble, but it could end badly. If you think that way, you could always help, do better, and be more efficient. But there is a difference between putting down your needs and feelings for the greater good and neglecting yourself. I've seen more than enough people getting burnout one after another because they think they aren't doing enough and ignoring what their body and mind tells them."

She sets her tea back down before she lays her hand on Peters, catching his attention. "Peter, hypothetical or not, if you ever get into a situation where someone makes you feel that you aren't worth it or what you are doing isn't enough, put some distance between you and that person. Promise me."

He avoids her eyes, taking his hand out of her hold. His fingers keep fidgeting in his lap. "But what if that isn't possible?"

"If you cannot go out of their way, try to ignore them and talk to someone about it. Sometimes you find help where you least expect it."

Catching her nephew's unsure expression, May lays a hand against his cheek, making him look at her.

"I know you, Peter. You are incredibly accommodating, and that's very respectable, but don't let people use you. You need to take care of yourself, alright? You are indebted to nobody, and if you want to help, I'm always supporting your decision but under the condition that you do it because you want to and not because someone pressures you into believing you're obligated to. If someone talks you or what you do down, you are allowed not wanting to help them. Helping is great, but your feelings matter too, sweetheart."

Peter's attention is back on her, eyes still carrying a bit of doubt. "For a hypothetical scenario, this got personal very quickly."

May rolls her eyes at the quip but lets it go. Pretending not to see the teary-eyed expression, she reaches forward to draw him into a hug. Peter instantly returns the gesture, tension leaving him as he rests his head on her shoulder.

"What's this for?" he asks, voice muffled by her blouse.

"Aren't I allowed to hug my nephew when I want to?"

"Of course, hugs are cool. I was just curious."

May wordlessly pulls him closer, petting the soft curls before letting him go.

"I hope you like your pizza with a crunch."

________________

"FRIDAY, if anyone wants to speak to me, decline. If it's Rogers, tell him to wait in line. I might pick up, but I wouldn't count on it. Good Lord, I think there's still Sake in my system. FRIDAY, order some sushi and double it. And tell Pepper to come, but if she's carrying anything resembling a checklist or a paper shoo her pretty face out of my penthouse, I'm more than capable of eating sushi for two on my own."

"Welcome back, Sir. I see your stay in Japan had left a few hours lasting impression on you."

Tony huffs as he loosens the tie around his neck, flinging it onto the coffee table and nearly knocking over a half-filled wine glass. He takes the glass and sniffs at it before flopping down on the couch.

"Not as good as Sake, but I am not complaining."

Leaning back, the man let out a groan as his body finally relaxed. The wine tastes a little stale, but Tony empties the glass anyway. His eyes wander mindlessly through the room before locking onto the ceiling.

"FRIDAY, dear, did anything noteworthy happen while I was gone?"

"The interest in this year's Stark Expo had risen despite the reputation of the Avengers getting worse. The deal with the Japanese investors has caused a rise in the stock market. Mrs. Potts has arranged a new meeting with Mr. -"

"FRIDAY, sweetheart. You know I'm not fond of business talk while lying down. Isn't there anything else? Maybe you should jog your memory cells. So you can tell me. Why they are footprints. On my ceiling."

"The footprints belong to Spider-Man, Sir."

"Ah."

The man stands up and takes his suit jacket off before putting his mobile phone on the coffee table.

"I assume he wasn't here for a room tour," begins Tony as he finds what he's been searching for. Leaning back again, he watches the outside cameras zooming in on a hand sitting down on the railing of the balcony.

"Why haven't I been notified about this?"

He frowns at the sorry excuse of a suit, briefly wondering where the spandex went.

"Mr. Rogers asked me not to mention Spider-Man entering the tower, Sir."

"Did he now? And you complied why, exactly."

"Mr. Rogers used his emergency code to override your order."

That made Tony glance up from the image of the vigilante stepping through the glass door.

"Well, Mr. Red White and Blue clearly do not know the difference between an emergency and being petty. Not so perfect, aren't we, Boy Scout? Still doesn't explain the Spiderling coming for a surprise visit."

"Mr. Rogers ordered a meeting with the rest of the team and Spider-Man."

"They've met?" The man's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He doesn't have enough wine for this.

"Spider-Man left before the arranged meeting started. Quoting, "I just remembered I have a.... some very important business! Yeah, super important, and I- I seriously have to go now."

Tony snorts.  

"Pull up the footage, honey."

He rubs his hands together, feeling much more awake now. A grin crosses his face.

"I want to see everything."

[desire-mona]

randomly assigning house md characters internet moments / videos / memories / whatever i remember based off nothing at all (i did i dps version too) (also links for everything i talk about will be provided) (also also this isnt made to make fun of anyone involved in any of this)

house - mr beast and his OLD OLD youtube videos, like circa 2015? i think? he used to make cringe compilations essentially where he just made fun of kids' youtube intros. face and all like nothing was blurred for privacy, and then he'd call them cringe and make drinking bleach jokes. like a LOT. i binge watched those back in like 4th grade i think? maybe 5th? so thats kinda all i associate him with now. he also made videos where he would say a word like a thousand times, sometimes WAY more (like 100k+). or like. count to that number, he did both. anyway rip house you wouldve loved making fun of kids' youtube videos

wilson - does anyone remember the evian baby commercials? i think the whole shtick was like "this water makes you feel young again" I THINK? the one i linked was the one where the reflection on a building makes ppl babies, but theres one where babies are on roller skates or whatever too. this isnt entirely an internet moment as much as it is just a memory, cuz i remember my mom and my aunt DYING laughing at these commercials. idk what it was they were just in tears. theres something so 2007-2015 about dancing babies. wasnt a dancing baby the first internet meme? just googled it and yes it was.

cuddy - onision's shitty spoken word songs PLEASE tell me someone remembers them. onision really shouldve stopped trying to make music after the banana song bc the rest really suck shit. this is NOT based on vibes i gotta get that out there, i was like hmm cuddy has a kid. you know who else has a kid? YOU KNOW WHO LET THEIR KID FALL OUT OF A WINDOW? cuddy would fucking HATE onision. ALSO OH MY GOD PAUSE EVERYTHING ONISION JUST UPLOADED A SONG. I NEED TO MAKE A SEPERATE POST ABOUT THIS RIGHT NOW WHAT THE HELL. anyway dont watch it. i linked strange æon's video on his music just bc i really dont wanna direct u to anything of his directly. did u know i dont like onision?

foreman - the most insane youtube poop ive ever seen in all of my 19 years of living, i sent this to maddie specifically when i made my initial "like for a rando internet moment!" post but i really need to share it with the general public. general warning for youtube poop-ness; flash, loud noises, overwhelming, etc. i am actually begging you to watch this because it tops every other ytp ive ever seen, like actually blows it out of the water. i also has no idea ppl still made ytps after 2014 tbh.... btw this is probably the only ytp that i'll ever recommend LMAO

chase - OH MY GOD KYLERLOVESJESUS. so basically this one eboy influencer type on tiktok back in 2019 Found God and went on rants about how abortion is wrong and gay marriage is bad and blah blah blah. there was this moment on one of his lives where he went "i love gay people, i would be best friends with a gay person. do i support it? no." which was the FUNNIEST shit back in the day. i would quote it on the daily. btw the editing of the video i linked is VERY of the time so beware LMAO

cameron - cutie the kitten (sans' wife and gf) + the killing videos sans fan girls would make. i actually cant link anything bc the channel doesnt exist anymore but! basically back in 2016ish there was this one girl who had such a crush on sans and she had a whole ocxcanon situation with sans and her pink cat oc Cutie. a lot of ppl hated her + the ppl who had ocs shipped with sans but looking back its truly not a big deal. what is a big deal is that she (? maybe?) and other sans fangirls would make animated slideshow videos of their ocs using powers or whatever to kill other sans fangirls. like brutally. it was a wild time i wish cutie's channel was still up so i could prove thats a real thing, but ask an undertale fan from back then and odds are theyll know. heres a sans fangirl cringe compilation so you kinda know what im talking about, but fair warning it is a cringe compilation so. it wont be nice.

thirteen - TW INCEST!! this one hamilton animatic i saw back in forever ago to the song 'helpless'. usually animatics to that song use eliza and hamilton (im not a hamilton fan this is very surface lvl knowledge btw) but the one i saw was eliza and ANGELICA. like as in HER SISTER. big surprise someone in a big fandom ships incest wow I KNOW its tame compared to other shit, but it was i think my first exposure to anything like that circa 2017ish, so it kinda stuck in the brain. also the video i linked isnt the og its a phil collins mashup, the og got taken down. hamilton always makes an appearance in my house posts doesnt it, be lucky i didnt give kutner this one bc ppl were turn up abt hamilton fan kutner.

taub - WHAT DO YALL KNOW ABOUT MIKE AND MELISSA ⁉️⁉️ basically mike and melissa is this animated passion project this guy made to show himself (or his persona? or maybe just some guy) falling in love with his fursona that comes to life. this was the only episode this guy uploaded and i think he kinda disappeared after. the plot is kinda hard to follow and its not TERRIBLY animated but its certainly not professional looking. there's a video about what happened to him uploaded like 5 months ago, but i havent watched it. when i first heard of mike n melissa i fully thought it was a mid 2000s family sitcom but it definitely Is Not That.

kutner - undertale sans au christmas party comic dub. i probably dont need to give an explanation as to what sans aus are but idk how many ex or current undertale fans follow me so i'll do it anyway. making au's for undertale was a pretty common practice back in its early days, and usually the most popular character in any undertale variation is sans. who sans is shipped with was always up in the air, so much like the onceler, ppl ended up shipping sans with other au versions of himself. this christmas party comic is in my mind the undertale fandom equivalent of camp weehawken. i think there was also a sans au comic where all the sans' except for like 2 were toddlers at daycare? i dont remember who the adult sans' were but also i think the creator got into hot water? dont remember why.