#spiderman printed cloth face mask for kids

[malereader-inserts]

Shoot Your Load (I-I Mean Shot!)

Fandom: Avengers Pairing: Peter Parker x Male!Reader Summary: When you think about your soulmate, you think of a handsome man of your age, perhaps polar opposite to you or like you. But, not fucking spiderman Word Count: 1,475 Request: @will-grammer​ “Can I ask for Peter Parker and stranger male reader? They both bare marks that indicate they are soulmates but they've never met. They haven't really thought of seeking each other out due to stressful life obligations like Peter being Spiderman but reader is drowning himself in his studies/job hoping to make enough money to go out and search for Peter one day - but they actually meet when reader witnesses a purse-snatching incident and tries to help, running into Peter who's in his spider suit?” A/n: okay, but why is my Grammarly not working for me anymore, I hate this godforsaken site with their new update.

It's not that you don’t want to meet the love of your life, the happiness within the horrible world, a companion, your soulmate - if you will. It’s just, you don’t have the time or money to look for them. Plus, you’re busy with your part time job and your work load for uni, it’s practically impossible for you to venture out as if it was some Disney movie. You have a life that you’ve been restricted to, and you’re only nineteen, you’ve got so much life ahead of you. 

But, you don’t mind if you were to randomly bump into this person you were destined to be with.

Peter, your other half, was in the same boat. He has too much responsibility to look for you. What was that quote that his uncle Ben told me? Never mind, despite the Avengers telling him to go look for you, he doesn’t feel like there was a need. He’s a hero, whether it was fighting big aliens or just being the friendly neighbourhood Spiderman, he already has stuff on his plate and it’s piling up. Of course, just like you, it’s a university student - whilst he loves to make the joke that he’s a web designer, chemistry is where it was at. With that in mind, he helps Mr Stark with his work too.

Peter would love to meet you, don’t get him wrong, he’s been caught wondering what this fateful person would be. He imagined how he’d meet you, he imagined how he was going to tell you that he’s Spiderman, and yet, he doesn’t think he needs to meet you. Fate is fate, if fate wants you to meet, she’ll let you. 

So, Peter goes on with his day, much like you do. 

And, the thing with soulmates, it’s the fact that you can’t just forget about it. Every time you look in the mirror, you see the burn print grip your upper arm, and you often wonder what type of interaction you’ll bump into. Peter, like most people’s soulmark, is his hand - it wasn’t unique, but he can’ t wait to place that hand on his soulmate, see how it perfectly lined up. 

“You should go find them, kid,” Tony patted Peter on the back, ruffling his hair, “How hard can it be?”

Everyone thinks looking for their soulmate is easy, it really isn’t.

All you wanted was three shots of espresso in you. 

It was far too early in morning for any human interactions. Whilst you didn’t have a shift that morning, you had a lot of work to do. You were only annoyed that morning because you got your days confused, alas you were up bright and early, and unneeded. Though, whilst you were out in the great New York City, it didn’t hurt to at least grab something for breakfast before heading back to your university flat and start on work, the three essays, presentation and two projects to get done by the end of the month. You wanted to get ahead before you started stressing out.

That’s all you wanted. Was that too hard to ask?

Because, apparently, it was. 

But, you’re not a selfish human being and the morning was barely touched by humans at the hour you were about. Just on your way to the local small coffee shop you had witnessed a crime. A poor elderly woman got her purse snatched, you only thought this happened in movies but apparently targeting sweet elderly women was an actual thing around in real life.

You could be like every twat in New York City, ignore it, or be an actual nice person. You decided the latter, knowing you have a guilty conscience that would probably keep you up awake later in the night, had you done nothing at all to help a fragile elderly woman.

“HEY!” You shouted, alerting the thief and the elderly woman - which probably shouldn’t have been your first thought of action, just as you were about to sprint after the man, you were interrupted.

“Don’t worry I got it!” You hear a voice above you, confused to what could be shouted above you.

Next thing you see was Spiderman swinging through buildings before landing right next to you, his hand grabbing you in the upper arm. You were confused to as why Spiderman was in this part of the city before realising your arm was burning. Your knitted eyebrows faded away as you looked down at his hand, realising that it was the same exact position to where your soul mark was. 

“Holy shi-”

Peter must have realised what was going on as he picks you up, and out of panic, throws you into the fucking alley way and webs you up to the wall. You[’re lucky that you didn't smack your head against the wall upon impact. 

“I’ll be back!” He calls out, hoping to find this thief quickly and be reunited with you.

Meanwhile, you were against a wall with only webbing to support you. It had baffled you that he was able to web you up so quickly. As of now, you were contemplating life and how you got into this weird situation. It took Peter fifteen minutes to finish what had happened. Landing back in the alley way where you were trapped. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow as you watched him freak out.

When you think about your soulmate, you think of a handsome man of your age, perhaps polar opposite to you or like you, exactly like you in personality. But, not fucking Spiderman.

“You’re Spiderman!” You exclaimed.

“You’re my soulmate!” He exclaims back.

You stare at him as he stares back at you, you blinked slowly as you watched his mask eyes slowly decrease in size before increasing bad to full size.

“You’re fucking Spiderman!” You shouted, heart racing, “My soul mate is Spiderman and he’s webbed me up!” 

“Well, you know what they say, shoot your load.”

“What?”

“I-I mean shoot your shot!”

There was silence between the two of you. Peter scratching the back of his neck, he was panicking because this wasn’t how he was supposed to meet you. He was supposed to meet you as Peter Parker, the awkward nerd who was very socially awkward and then he was going to struggle to admit that he was a superhero. Not the other way round. But, as you both stand in awkward silence, Peter got to actually look at you.

“Um, can you help me down?” You asked, tilting your head to the side, “Unless they melt over time, cause if so, I’m going to get hungry.”

“It’s pretty easy to get out of that,” Peter says as you struggled to wiggle, let alone tear a section of webbing, “Right, you don’t have super strength.”

Peter came up to you, ripping his webbing, his face flaring up with redness because my god, this was such an embarrassing situation to get yourself. He caught you effortlessly when you had escaped the webbing. He lets go of your hands, however the pair of you don’t miss the electric sensation that was produced when you make contact. 

You brush yourself clean from the webbing, “Shoot your load?”

“I panicked!” Peter confessed as you laughed.

Peter got to admire you, you were of his age, with a bright smile and a lovely laughter he wouldn’t mind getting to hear often. He thinks your voice was soothing to listen to. You looked at him, fixing your jacket and you smiled at him.

“So, who's under the mask?” You asked, eyes wide, it’s only fair if you know the identity of Spiderman, he is your soulmate after all.

“I’m Peter,” Peter takes his mask off and surprises you at his attractiveness, his hand outstretched towards you, “Peter Parker.”

You take his hand to shake, a corner of your lip uplifting, “Stark’s intern? I thought you sounded familiar, well, I’m (Y/n) (L/n).”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Peter says, trying to ignore the tingling sensation as you grip his hand in the handshake.

You let go of his hand, rubbing the back of your neck, “Uh, so I was going to grab breakfast, I was wondering if you have a change of clothes, you can join me.”

Peter looked down at his attire, his face reddening once again, nodding, “I have a change of clothes somewhere, give me like five minutes and I'll join you.”

“I'll be waiting at the end of the alley way,” You say, there was an inviting smile on your face, walking towards the end of the alley way, coming back to civilisation.

You laugh to yourself, your soulmate is Spiderman, and you know from then - you have wild life ahead of you with him. For once, you’re excited for what the future holds.

[fantasticstoryteller]

New Amsterdam Chapter 34

“Peter, Jamison wants you in his office,” Beth announced as Peter arrived at the Bugle.

Peter paused. The last time Jamison wanted him in the office he introduced Peter to the guy who (for who-knows-what-reason) wanted Peter’s job. “Did he say why?” he asked timidly.

Beth rolled her eyes behind her brightly painted eyelids. “I don’t know.”

Peter ducked his head, face burning. Talking to Beth was hard. “O—okay,” he stammered.

She rolled her eyes as he made his way to Jamison’s office. He knocked to announce himself before opening the door, his spider sense tingling at a low level. When he opens the door and sees Eddie there, he understands. “Y—you wa—wanted to s—see me?” asked Peter nervously. His glasses began to slide down so he pushed them up with the heel of his hand.

“Parker, get in here. don’t make me stress myself. And close that door; this is a private conversation.” Timidly, Peter did as he was told and the other man turned to glare at him as he stood near the desk. “Eddie,” said Jamison as he crunched the candy, “seems to be under the impression that we’re a competition.”

Peter mastered the urge to snort derisively. He didn’t need Eddie hating him more than the other man already did. He wondered what he’d ever done to Eddie to warrant the animosity. He tried not to make enemies as Peter Parker; he made more than enough as Spiderman.

“So, I thought; let’s have a competition. There are gangs all over this city; bring something on one of them that I can sell.”

On one of the gangs? That would put a target on his back, on the backs of everyone in his life—not that there were many, and Harry and MJ had all the protection that money could buy—but not everyone did. He opened his mouth to protest.

Jamison, who probably knew more about his employees than most of his staff guessed, waved the objection away. “It will be anonymous,” he said firmly. “Your identities will be protected by the paper.”

Eddie sneered. “I need no ‘protection’,” he said before turning to leave.

Peter turned back to Jamison. “Um,” he said nervously.

Jamison shrugged. “He has no friends or family to put in danger, and he’s an MMA champion,” the older man said. Then he snorted. “And he assumes he’ll win. Since the masked menace is off the street, I expect you to devote your energy to this, Parker.”

“Ye—yes sir.”

“And Parker?”

“The printer’s clogged again,” Peter supplied wearily before leaving the office.

Beth looked up. “Are you okay?” she asked, concerned. “Eddie just strut through here saying that he’ll have your job.”

Peter laughed nervously. “It—it’s too soon to tell,” he said before heading back to fix the printer.

Getting information on the gangs of New Amsterdam was a risky business. Even Spiderman would have trouble—and Spiderman was, for the moment, on hiatus. First and foremost, he didn’t want any of them tracking him home. A lot harder to do when he couldn't web himself across the city.

Then again—he could focus on the Snipers. The police didn’t see them as one of the more threatening gangs in the city (if the street children weren’t counted they had a low kill count outside of territory disputes), but Peter knew better. He knew the gang was borderline cult, and—on top of all of that—they hunted the street kids. If he could get something on them, something Jamison would print—he might be able to get the police interested in the gang. At least enough to take the pressure off the street kids.

The thoughts occupied his mind until Wade swept him up in a hug. “Petey-Pie!”

Peter grinned. “Wade!” he said happily. He started to snuggle back—until he realized he was still wearing the over-alls. “I’ll stain your suit!”

“Wouldn’t be the first time!”

“What?”

Wade made a dismissive gesture. “Not important. Don’t let stains come between cuddles! Cuddle time is important!”

Peter chuckled and rubbed his face in Wade’s chest. “You’re so strange,” he said fondly.

“Coming from you, that doesn’t sound like an insult.” Peter looked up to see Wade staring at him, smiling through the mask (how did he make the mask so emotive?).

“It’s a compliment,” Peter said firmly. “How was patrol?”

Wade squealed with excitement. “Oh, Petey-Pie, you won’t believe what happened!” A pause. “Of course he will; we’re the ones telling him. No he wouldn't! No, you are!”

Peter let the soothing noise wash over him before he pulled away. “Let me change back into my clothes,” he suggested, “and on the way home you can tell me about it. And I’m making dinner tonight,” he added firmly. He’d gotten a foolproof recipe from a foodie blog in preparation.

“We’re going home together?” asked Wade.

Peter flushed. He hadn’t thought—he’d just assumed. “I—if you wa—want to,” he stammered shyly.

“Oh, Baby Boy, of course I want to!” gushed Wade stemming Peter’s insecurity. “And, while we’re waiting, what did you do today?”

“I fixed the printer again,” Peter offered softly. He quickly ducked into a corner and pulled off the cover-alls before putting his pants on. “Before that Jamison said that Eddie and I are competing? He wants me to get a story about gangs.”

“Oh, Petey-Pie, that’s a dangerous road to walk.”

Despite the fact that Wade was merely voicing Peter’s earlier fears, Peter felt his resolve harden. “I can handle it,” he said firmly as he went back out to see Wade.

“You’re cute when you’re annoyed.” Wade’s gloved finger tapped his nose. “Boop!”

“Wade!” Peter felt his nose wrinkle at the tiny assault, but smiled anyway. “I just need to clock out.”

“Oh, cuddles!” Wade grabbed Peter and tucked him in close. “Can you walk like this?”

“Um, yes?”

“Then onward, Intrepid Reporter!”

“I’m just a photographer Wade,” complained Peter as they made their way into the office.

Wade snorted. “You’re not ‘just’ anything,” said firmly. One of his swords dinged a hanging light as they made their way across. “Those things are dangerous,” he announced.

“Then maybe,” said Beth tartly from her post, eyes flashing, “you should put them away.” Wade turned to look at Beth, body very still. Beth glared back at him, unconcerned.

Beth had dealt with police who tried to badger the paper into giving up its sources, armed thugs who tried to force the paper to print what they wanted, terrorists who planned to blow up the Bugle and all its content, and people who wanted the Bugle to pay “protection” fees. She wasn’t frightened of a random man in a mask—particularly not one currently plastered to the back of the office nerd.

Who had never, as either Spiderman or Peter Parker, asked Deadpool to take off the swords.

“I like you,” Wade suddenly decided. “You have sass girlfriend!”

Beth’s only comment was to snort. “I’d better,” she said cryptically. “And Peter?”

“Yes?” asked Peter nervously.

“You’d better kick Eddie’s ass.”

“I—I’ll try.”

As they were walking to Peter’s apartment building, he was stopped by one of the street kids. “Mr. Parker, are the two of you dating?” asked the kid.

“Maybe?” asked Peter. What actually constituted “dating”? Going out—well, they did that a lot (especially as Spiderman and Deadpool), and had for a long time. They ate together all the time. Peter was even planning on cooking that night. They liked spending time with each other in and out of the masks—even if Wade still didn’t know that Peter was Spiderman and would probably freak out (and maybe hate him) about it. Peter looked up at Wade. “Are we dating?”

Wade froze. He was absolutely still—Peter couldn't even hear him breathing. Suddenly his breath rushed out. “Do you—want to be?” he asked hesitantly.

Peter smiled at him. “I—I’d like to,” he said softly.

“Ugh. Get a room.” The street kid rolled its eyes at them—but was still grinning as it slipped into an alley.

[kidney9-9]

Petty Chapter 3 (Peter Parker)

Cover/Moodboard made by @lozzypoz321​ Thank you very much for making this!! I love it so much!! You’re so sweet!!

In this chapter, tensions build and collide, as Peter and Y/n finally meet. Sorry for missed update yesterday, I wasn’t feeling too good. I might be taking a little longer to update everything on my blog because of my health, but this series is my first priority on here :) Hope you enjoy this chapter! 

Taglist is open, and to join, send an ask!! Updates every other day unless specified

Series Masterlist

Peter Parker x Reader  Warnings: swearing Word Count: 2.3k

You tried your best not to stare at Peter during the assembly today. Every part of you felt guilty as he turned back around for a second, making eye contact with you. Why did you do that to him? After hearing your cousin scream at you repeatedly for hours, you really did soak in your own guilt and shame. It was such a stupid thing to do as well, to change his grades just because you didn’t like him.

You scoffed silently at the reason why you didn’t like him. Stupid Spiderman shit… you shook your head at the idea of it. A lot of people have superhero phases, and you did too, but it wasn’t so strong to the fact you became a superhero or tried to be one. You wondered why he even thought about trying to be a hero, it made no sense. It pissed you off even more that it was his “secret” identity, and you wondered why no one else called him out for it, when it was so painfully obvious.

His cover wasn’t even mediocre in your opinion. A high schooler, interning as Tony Stark’s assistant or whatever, didn’t sound right. There were hundreds of dozens of people who apply to positions like that for Tony Stark, and never hear back from his company. Most of those people have doctorates, have started their own successful businesses, and have way more experience than just some high school boy. If you applied for that position, even with the same grades and success as Peter, you would be laughed at. It just didn’t seem like a good cover up to hide the fact that Peter was Spiderman.

The name bothered you too.

Spiderman? If he was spiderman, wouldn’t he have spiders just crawling out of him, not just the web shooters? You grinned slightly, thinking of the name Web-boy. It sounded like shit, but glancing back to Peter, you grinned even more, thinking of calling him that. Would he be offended? Probably, but it was more accurate than “Spiderman”.

Your gaze turned to the stage once again, as Peter whipped around, catching your stare once more. He frowned and glanced back as the teachers started talking. “Expect schedule changes starting the first day of finals. Instead of our regular block-schedule, we as an administration, have agreed that this schedule is easier. Based off your finals scheduled by your teachers, all students of classes that share the teacher will be in the same room, at the same time. We’ll be using the library, gym, and field for finals.” Your vice principal rambled nervously, glancing over to the principal.

She nodded in return to her colleague and stared into the crowd. “In short, it doesn’t matter if you’re in first period or last period, you will be in the same room, taking the same test made by your teacher. Every student’s schedule is printed at the exit, and you will wait in line to receive it.” Excited quiet chatter erupted from the students as you furrowed your eyebrows together, glancing back to your friend, Alex.

“Guess we’ll be taking the history final together?” Alex spoke, making you nod back to her. “Strange, maybe it’ll be better but who knows?” You made small talk back, still confused at the new schedule.

You sat in your cousin’s class after school as she paced the room anxiously. You played with your fingers absentmindedly, not sure of how to talk about your actions with Peter’s grades. It seemed your cousin didn’t know either, as she started to bite her nails, muttering swear words directed at everything. You stared down at the wood on your desk, and you sighed, counting the random lines and circles indented into the chair.

“Shithead…” Your cousin started, causing you to glance back up to her. She sat in one of the student’s desks near you, propping her feet up on another one. You nodded to her, as she rolled her eyes at herself, wondering why this all happened. “Peter’s a good kid, I think. Well, I don’t really know. Will you tell me why the fuck you did that to him?” She paused, scratching her head. She picked up her burrito, taking a bite, before continuing, mumbling over the food in her mouth.

“And more importantly, to me? You know what the fuck you just caused?”

You watched the clock tick up on the wall, as you felt your heart start to speed up. Mandy continued ranting at you, but all her words passed through you as you started to count the seconds, wanting to leave already. You heard shuffling from Mandy, but you didn’t glance away from the clock as she called your name again.

What did you cause?

You weren’t entirely sure of everything. At most, you just knew you ruined a part of Peter’s future; but even then, you weren’t sure. Was there more? Mandy cleared her throat loudly, pulling the desk she was in closer to you, causing a scratching noise to erupt in the room.

You cringed at the noise as you glanced back to Mandy. “What do my actions do to you?” You question, shaking your head as Mandy groaned loudly. She chewed her bottom lip, making you furrow your eyebrows together, knowing it was a bad habit of hers.

“Uh, you know how the English department needs money…” She trailed off, eyes fluttering away from yours as you scoffed in disbelief. “Please don’t tell me,” You paused, getting up from your seat, standing right at hers now. You already got the general idea of what your idiot cousin did, making you shake your head again.

“That you stole money from Parker?” You finished, hoping it wasn’t true. Mandy instantly shook her head, laughing at your idea. She placed her hands in her lap, patting softly as she stared at you.

“Of course not. That’s fucking stupid.” She retorted, laughing again, more nervously. You tilted your head back to her, thinking back to every time she’s lied to you, and that laugh she has when she does it. One of the worst lies she told you was about your old pet goldfish, Barney. He was about three years old, and Mandy told you she took it to the vet once, but instead she accidently knocked over the tank. She lied for over a month, telling you that the vet says there’s something seriously wrong and needed to be in the “hospital”. You finally caught her in her lie when you questioned her for hours.

This time, you could tell you didn’t have to question her, since she was already sweating from her lies. “Mandy…what did you do?” You asked seriously, staring her down as she giggled out again, fanning her face with her hand.

Mandy groaned slightly, rubbing her face in shame. She spluttered out, “Uh, fuck, well I might have blackmailed Peter into giving us some money, but this is ultimately your fault since you were the one to change his grades like that!”

What the fuck?

Your eyes widened at her. Millions of scenarios passed through your mind as you coughed in surprise back at your cousin. What the both of you did was illegal, and she didn’t even know he was Spiderman! Your heart pounded wildly in your chest at the thought of getting into legal trouble with the school system and the Avengers. Then you furrowed your eyebrows at that thought, what would it be like to even get in legal trouble with the Avengers. You knew they’ve had their troubles in the past, but would they even mess with a high schooler and a teacher? You shook your head at that, laughing in disbelief at everything.

“You’re fucked up,” You paused, glancing to the door. It was creaked open, making you sigh, shaking your head again. You walked over to it, slamming it shut as you glanced back to Mandy as she breathed in, preparing her rant back to you.

Ned stood in shock by the door, as he trembled, pulling out his phone to call Peter. He was planning on talking to Miss Riley about the final, thinking maybe he could pass information on to Peter, just in case she dropped his grade because she didn’t like him. It was just to help a friend, but now hearing your conversation while standing outside the classroom, Ned didn’t know what to think. You and Miss Riley planned this? Ned shook his head, as he put his head down, pressing the phone to one of his ears as he sped down the hallway.

Peter answered the phone with a sigh, as he plopped down on a rooftop, just starting his shift as Spiderman. “Hey,” He started, wondering why Ned called him.  

Ned stuttered out, “Come back to the school!” Peter shook his head in confusion, quickly standing up and scrunching his face together, as he ripped his mask off. “Why?” He questioned back, already on his way.

“Uh, Y/n ruined your grades.”

Y/n? Peter questioned in his head. You were the girl who was staring at him today. He remembered blushing at your stare, hoping you found him attractive, not this. He blinked multiple times in shock as he rolled down the stairs, taking his suit off in the process, and rushing out to the alleyway right next to the rooftop he was on before.

“I’ll be right there.” Peter rushed out, quickly hanging up and pushing his clothes on. His suit was stuffed back into his bag, and he stood back up, not bothering to zip it up completely.

Why would you do that? Peter questioned to himself, groaning. He barely interacted with you in the first place, since you two didn’t usually have classes together. Did you just have it out for him? He frowned at that, thinking the worst in you and Miss Riley.

He still needed to talk to Tony, especially now. What was he supposed to say? He had no idea. Maybe that his teacher and another student was out for him? It didn’t make much sense. He ran to the school fast, breathing heavily as he pushed through the doors of the school.

Random scattered people stared at him as he sped walked through the hallway, marching down to Miss Riley’s class, with Ned’s words replaying in his head. He sighed, seeing Ned resting against the wall, waiting for him. Peter shook his head back to him, not wanting him in the room as he slightly opened the door.

“Hello?” He called out nervously. He cursed himself in his head, wondering why he was acting like that. You swung the door wide open, hearing his voice, and your eyes popped open in shock.

Fuck.

You gulped in fear and anxiety as Peter stepped into the room, staring back and forth between you and Mandy. You glanced back at her, as she scampered, standing up. The three of you stood in an awkward silence as the door shut behind him.

Mandy was the first to speak up, as she strolled back to her desk. “Peter Parker, what brings you here?” She questioned, cringing at her voice being unnaturally high. You shook your head to her, feeling the guilt bubble in you as Peter frowned back to the both of you.

“I know what you did.” He spoke up, towards you. You flinched back slightly, furrowing your eyebrows together. You took a slight step closer though after that, crossing your arms back to him. What was he going to do? You barely hid back your laugh as the thought crossed your head. He wouldn’t do anything, he was supposed to be a superhero, right?

Mandy cocked her head to you, watching in confusion. “What did I do?” You shot back, almost innocently, nervously smiling to him.

He couldn’t prove anything. Peter rolled his eyes in irritation, feeling a wave of emotions rise in him. Mostly anger, because of how you were acting. But then also, confusion, thinking maybe Ned was wrong with what he heard. It didn’t make sense to Peter, why you changed his grades. “You messed with my grades?” Peter questioned back, almost unsure.

You glanced back to his hair, grinning when you noticed it was messy. You could see he was just out, doing his stupid duties. You glanced back to his bag, humming softly. Inside, you were just a mess. You wanted to say sorry, but at the same time you wanted to lecture him for being so dumb with the Spiderman stuff.

Mandy cleared her throat, gazing at Peter. “I think it’s time we all left.” She paused, wanting to leave this situation without anymore accusations. “My cousin never did anything of the sorts, now shoo. Both of you.” She finished up, glancing to you nervously.

Your eyes widened slightly at her slip up. He didn’t know you were related to her. It wasn’t even known at school, something you both didn’t care for others to know. She oohed at her mistake lightly, as Peter glanced back to her, angry.

“Cousins, huh?” He pushed out, shaking his head.

He didn’t understand why he was a target in this mess. He questioned himself, if he should just go to the principal right now and tell them what happened. That was what he should have done in the first place, he thought, biting his lip. “I should go.” He decided, turning back to the door, knowing now was the time to tell the administration.

“I know you’re Spiderman.” You blurted out, hand shooting out and grasping his, pulling him back. Mandy yelped out in disbelief, completely standing up. Peter stared at you as the color drained in his face.

“…Sauce, I need sauce for my burrito.” Your cousin muttered, out of her mind. She stared at the two of you, as you and Peter scoffed back at her. You dropped Peter’s hand, stepping forward to your cousin.

“Fuck the sauce!”

--

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[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Midnight Angel

Pairings: Peter Parker x Gender Neutral!Reader

Summary: There are some disgusting people in this world- people who feel the need to exert power over others in terrible ways. When victims speak up, they are ignored, or worse, blamed. When you decide to take matters into your own hands, you run into a particular superhero. 

Warnings: Violence; Repeated mentions of sexual assault, rape and abuse (though no actual depictions of any); I guess there’s like borderline torture but not really? Stapling things to people’s bodies?; Cursing; Rope around the neck (not hanging anyone but they get pulled by it, like a collar)

Word Count: 4000

A/N: All victims of the Midnight Angel (Philip Meeks and Hillary Times) are entirely made up characters! These are not based off real people and if anyone has these names, this is not an accusation of them in any way shape or form. Just a coincidence. 

_________________________________

Finding targets was always the easiest part. You had two main methods: 1) Tracking people down through the internet and 2) Hearing about them through your mother’s law firm. Going to a STEM school that emphasized proficiency with computer programming made hacking into web systems to find the necessary information simple. Since your mother specialized in representing abuse and rape victims in court, getting information from her files was a quick task. 

You didn’t think of yourself as a criminal, although you knew that by all legal definitions, you were. But was it really a crime when you hurt people who hurt others? By targeting rapists and abusers, you were only making the city safer. You considered it community service that you could never include on a college application. 

It all started when your mother came home, angrily devastated by the loss of a case her client had against her ex-boyfriend, claiming he’d been abusing both her and their son. The evidence has been solid. Multiple police reports from both her and their neighbors, along with pictures documenting the abuse and witness reports made for a nearly assured win for the client. Your mother had been so excited that the poor woman and her child could finally rest easy knowing that their abuser was behind bars. But then the ex-boyfriend’s lawyer said something that instilled just enough doubt in the jury’s mind to return from deliberation with a not guilty verdict. 

You remembered your mother coming home in tears that night, telling you how she felt like she’d failed the victims because now the boyfriend would walk free. That night, though, you decided that he wouldn’t. It wasn’t difficult to go through your mother’s computer once she fell asleep, a solo bottle of wine later, to find out where to find the boyfriend lived, though it took some digging through multiple databases. 

Once you found your target’s location, you had gotten dressed in dark but unsuspecting clothes and gloves, the face masks you were forced to wear due to COVID-19 coming in handy for concealing your identity without looking suspicious, and snuck out through the fire escape, making your way a few blocks down to the sketchy apartment building your target resided in. You climbed the fire escape up to the fifth floor and peeked in through the window before the actual attack. The man was asleep on the couch, the TV illuminating the otherwise dark room. The cans of beer scattered haphazardly across the coffee table told you that he would probably be difficult to wake up, which was perfect. 

You flicked the blade of your pocket knife out and used it to slide under the windowpane and shimmy the lock until it clicked open. Carefully, you slid the window open, watching for any reaction from the man only to see him still sawing logs on the couch. Once you were in, the first step was reaching into your backpack to remove duct tape and rope that you brought with. You grabbed a chair and carefully brought it into the center of the small living room, just far enough away to make it impossible to reach anything, before tiptoeing back to him and placing a strip of duct tape over his slightly stubbled face. 

His eyes shot open and he woke with a start, hand going up immediately to grip your wrist that dwarfed in comparison. You’d expected this reaction, though, and grabbed his wrist, using his own force to throw him off of the couch and onto the ground. 

Little known secret: Your mother had had you in judo classes since you were a young child. Though you’d never gotten into competing for any more than earning belts, you were one of the best pupils until you quit a few years ago. 

The man was caught off guard and he tried to yell at you through the tape but to no avail. You rolled to straddle him and looped the rope around his neck, albeit sloppily, but it tightened just enough when you pulled on it. Using the rope as leverage, you stood up and dragged him over to the chair. He crawled sloppily, fumbling over himself as you tugged on the rope in a sadistic yet satisfying display of power when he didn’t move fast enough. 

“Get up!” You demanded quietly but aggressively, trying to distort your voice naturally by making it a few octaves lower than it naturally sat. He sat back on his knees, prying at the rope around his throat but you just tugged on it, making him lurch forward, his hands landing on the chair. “Sit.” 

On shaky hands, he pressed himself up to obey and you used the long end of the rope in your hands to wrap around his body, tying him to the chair. The rope around his neck was loose now, mostly just there to serve as a reminder of what you could do if you really wanted to, but the rope bit into his biceps. 

Once he was securely tied in place, you walked around the front of the chair to get in his face. His brown eyes were wide with fear and confusion and a fucked up part of you loved to see it. “You like to hit little kids, huh?” You asked and he shook his head aggressively in denial, tears brimming in his eyes. 

You sent a solid left hook to his face, “You liar. You really think I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t know what you did?” You shook your hand, never having truly punched anyone in the face before and boy did it hurt like a bitch. 

For the finishing touch of your master plan, you reached into your bag one final time, retrieving a staple gun and a piece of paper you’d printed out that read I think it’s fun to beat women and children. Uncreative, you knew, but this was a spontaneous act of vigilantism. Next time, you’d think of something better. 

“Tell me… what is it about it that you enjoy?” You waved the staple gun around as you spoke and his eyes followed it in terror, “Is it some power trip? Do you enjoy seeing the fear in your girlfriend’s eyes when you're about to hit her? The fear in your son’s? How old is he again? Four?” Seeing somebody look so afraid of you, by what you were doing and saying honestly scared you but the rage was taking over, fueling your shaky hands as you continued your little speech, “How people like you exist in this world is beyond me. Even more is how monsters like you get away with it. But don’t worry, you won’t ever again.” 

In a flash, you stuck the paper to his chest and used the staple gun to send short metal prongs into his pectoral muscle, tacking the label to his skin painfully. He screamed out in pain as the metal curled beneath his skin but it was muffled by the tape, inaudible to the neighbors in every direction. 

“Now, you get to stay here until somebody finds you and when they do, they’ll see you for what you are. If I ever hear that you put your hands on another person again, I don’t give a damn who it is, I’ll come back and tattoo it across your fucking forehead. Or I’ll just kill you.” You shrugged before leaning in, your forehead nearly touching his, “But remember that I found you this time. Finding you again will be even easier.” 

You made your way to the window, stepping out, “Sleep tight.” 

**

“Today’s top story, another victim of the vigilante taking out abusers and rapists. This time, a woman named Hillary Times was found tied to the kitchen table of her Queens apartment with a paper that says, quote ‘Don’t trust the babysitter’ end quote, stapled to her chest. Along with the note was included multiple pages of messages between Times and several children, all under the age of fifteen. Also provided was a link to a web forum dedicated to child pornography, which has led to the arrests of not only Miss Times but four other suspects. Times sustained minor injuries in the attack and is expected to make a full recovery. She is the latest victim of what news articles are calling the Midnight Angel. Some are making them out to be a hero while others see it as a violent rampage. What is the truth? We’ll leave that up to you. Now, onto sports…” 

Peter watched the news play on his computer screen while he suited up for his nightly patrol as Spiderman. He couldn’t lie, he was actually sort of impressed by this Midnight Angel person, whoever they were. As long as they were only hurting bad people, he didn’t see a problem with it. Besides, he was no better. He was just some kid acting like a vigilante in the night, just like the Midnight Angel. Just like all the Avengers were before they were an organized collective. 

He swung out the window and out into the bustling New York City night. Even at midnight, the song rang true. It was the city that never slept. 

Peter went through his usual routine, swinging around, looking for any sign of distress. He didn’t find any after looking for at least an hour, which was actually disappointing. It wasn’t that Peter wanted anyone to be getting murdered or robbed or what have you but he always craved a bit of action. Tonight was just one of those rare calm nights where he found himself sitting on the ledge of a tall apartment building, swinging his legs over the edge in boredom. 

Or so he thought. 

It was quiet at first- so quiet that he wouldn’t have heard it without his exceptional senses. It came through at first as a tip tap tip tap of something against metal. Peter couldn’t tell exactly what it was but his senses told him it was coming from a few dozen feet below him, still in the same building. 

Crawling along the side of the building, he crept in the shadows until he saw the source of the noise. You swung your body gracefully over the edge of the fire escape and crouched down at the window before taking something from your pocket. What it was, Peter couldn't tell from where he was but it got his blood pumping in anticipation. Home invasion. It had been a long time since he'd dealt with one of these and they always got interesting. 

He watched as you slid the window open and crawled through the port, disappearing into the apartment like a shadow in the night. Peter continued crawling down the building another four stories until he saw the open window you used to enter. 

It was unnervingly quiet at first, though he could hear your light footsteps pattering down the halls, almost imperceptibly. Peaking in, he noticed the main room was empty, apart from typical living room and dining room furniture. The kitchen was directly across from the window, only separated from the living room by a little bar, but his hearing was piqued in the direction of the short hallway to his right. 

Suddenly, there was a thud and the sound of a muffled struggle from down in that direction. Peter rushed down and burst into the bedroom to see you straddling a man on the ground, who it looked like you had just pulled out of bed. He was face down and struggling as you roughly pulled his head up by a gag cloth you had in his mouth that you were struggling to tie. 

"Shut up!" You hissed, smacking the man upside the head. He didn't and only struggled more. 

Peter jumped into the action, immediately helping the man in distress. Before you could even process what was happening, the boy shot a web at you and flung you into the wall roughly. You hit it with a thud and crumbled to the ground. 

What the hell?! 

With a pained groan, you leap to your feet and lunged to grab the man you had pinned, now trying to make a desperate escape. Now that you didn't have the advantage of the target being groggy from sleep, he kicked you in the face roughly with his sock covered feet. You retracted just enough to cover your face with your arms but this allowed for him to scramble away. 

"Don't worry sir! I'm here to help!" A boy's voice called out from the doorway. When you looked up, you saw none other than Spiderman. This meant you were either going to get help or were really fucked. Sure, you had computer skills and martial arts training but he had sticky webs and super strength. 

"Get him!" You called out to Spiderman, desperate not to lose your target. 

Peter stood confused. You demanded his help as if it were an obvious move. Why would a robber expect him to help? Maybe something else was going on… 

When he didn't move, the man shoved past him, desperate to get to the front door, "Please let me go! Help me out Spiderman! This person just broke in and attacked me!" 

You ran after, quickly tackling the man to the ground. He threw punch after punch your way but you swiftly dodged all but one. The one that landed sent you to your ass, falling backwards heavily. 

“Shut up you pathetic sack of shit! You think your exes got help when you beat them?" You spat, venom in your words as you maneuvered have him pinned for a third time.

Those words made it click to Peter. "You're the Midnight Angel?" 

"Yes! Now help me or get out of my way!" Under normal circumstances, you were much nicer but currently you were struggling immensely to keep this guy under control. Manners were not your top priority. 

Peter didn't need much time to contemplate. With a flick of his wrist he had the guy caught in a web and held in place. "What should I do?" Peter didn't know why he felt so clueless. Didn't he do this crap every night? He should know how to capture a bad guy. But because you were involved, he felt like an accomplice to a crime and it made him nervous. The way you handled things seemed so much darker than the way he did. 

The guy was only held by his chest by the webs, his arms free. He took the opportunity to grab at you and pulled your mask down. You gasped in horror and your first instinct was to send a mean left hook to the man's head, effectively sending him to the ground, unconscious, before he could get a good look at you. You just hoped he hadn’t gotten a good enough look at you to describe you to police. 

"Wait, Y/N?!" You froze. How could Spiderman know who you are? And why did the way he said your name sound so familiar…

"How do you know who I am?" You asked defensively, quickly pulling your mask back over your face. 

Peter stiffened, realizing that by acknowledging he knew you put his identity at risk to, and began to babble, "Oh, did I- sorry, you just look like someone I met one time but you're not them so don't worry. My bad, all my bad." 

The rambling with the voice… it all began to connect in your head. "Peter?" 

Peter's blood went cold, "What? No. You must have me confused with someone else." 

"Oh my gosh! Peter Parker, are you Spiderman?" You whisper-yelled to make sure the neighbors couldn't hear. It all made sense. You were casual friends with the boy, both doing Academic Decathlon. Your strength was more computers while he seemed to specialize in engineering but you still had three classes together and just happened to sit by each other in all of them. "All the Decathlons you missed, showing up to school with mysterious injuries, crushing everything in gym class, and the Stark internship! Everything makes sense!" 

He stepped towards you waving his arms desperately, "Shhh you can't tell anyone!" 

You shrugged, looking almost indignantly at him, "Of course, I won't tell. You can't say anything about me either though." Did he really think so low of you? 

"No, no, of course not." He stammered. The room went silent and you both sort of shifted back and forth on your feet. 

Eventually, you gestured to the unconscious man on the floor, "Well, uh, I better finish up with all this. You can stay or go or whatever. But I'm not gonna steal anything so you don't have to worry about actual crimes being committed here if you leave." 

"As if sneaking into a guy's apartment and beating him senseless before stringing him up with rope and stapling a note to his body isn't a crime?" He pointed out, only a hint of sarcasm in his voice. 

Your brows furrowed, "It’s punishing bad guys. You do the same thing!" 

"I know, I know, I was joking!" He defended, making you retreat slightly. You didn't mean to sound hostile, your nerves were just high after being discovered. After a brief pause, he asked ,"So, uh, you need help with that?" Peter gestured to the man, whose face was now swelling immensely 

You shrugged, thinking of the rope in your backpack and knowing it would be easier to let Peter help, with his super strength and all, considering this particular man had to have at least a hundred and fifty pounds on you. Using the moving momentum of someone significantly bigger than you was one thing. Hoisting up the dead weight of one was drastically different. "If you wouldn't mind." 

Peter nodded, almost excited to help. "So where do we begin? This is your thing." 

"Usually I tie them up and threaten them a little. Get a few hits in if I'm feeling generous. Then I staple a list of evidence against them to their chest and run off into the night." You rubbed your neck awkwardly, looking down at the man who was on the ground with twisted lips, "This didn't quite go the way it normally does…" 

Peter thought for a moment, "I think I have an idea." 

***

The coffee shop bustled around the table that you, Ned, MJ, and Peter all sat around. A cup of jasmine tea steamed on the table beside your open AP Chemistry textbook and study guide for the upcoming Decathlon. The group felt comfortable despite it being the first time you'd studied with only them. While you had always been casual friends with all three peers, you hadn't actually started hanging out until recently. That is, until after you and Peter found out about each other's secrets. It was amazing how discovering a friend was a secret vigilante really brought a pair together. 

"How are you doing on the astronomy section, Peter?" Ned asked from across the table, leaning over his AP World History textbook. Each of you had taken a different subject to work on. 

Peter picked up his copy of the study guide, which he'd scribbled notes all over, "Uh, I have all the notes on Titan I could manage from the book and I’m moving onto the gravities of different planets but-" 

"Wait, shh!" MJ silenced the group of you suddenly without explanation. 

"What?" You asked, trying to hear what she was talking about but not hearing anything other than the shop's ambience. 

She pointed up to the TV playing in the far corner that could barely be heard over the constant murmur of voices but the subtitles were easy to read from the close distance. A woman read the newest story from the teleprompter as you all watched, “Breaking news, yet another alleged victim of the Midnight Angel has been found, this time in Jackson Heights. However, this time, there’s a twist. 39 year old Philip Meeks was found strung up hanging between his apartment building and the convenience store across the street, over the middle of the busy road by spiderwebs. This appears to be the work of Spiderman, which has never been seen before at any of the previous crime scenes. Mr. Meeks was found alive and in stable condition with a seven page long list of reported incidents against him, filed by fifteen different men and women claiming to be previous partners of his, stapled to his chest. These accusations range from verbal abuse to sexual assault. 

Mr. Meeks is now in custody and his crimes are being investigated by police. The bigger question now is who is the Midnight Angel? Has this been Spiderman the entire time? Or are they two vigilantes now working together?” 

Her co-anchor turned to her, “Well, Jill, I sure hope we find some answers soon.” 

“Me too.” She agreed, flipping through the papers on her desk. 

There was an awkward moment where you, Peter, and Ned all exchanged a quick knowing glance while MJ’s back was turned. Ned’s eyes got wide when he realized that you were in on everything somehow and his mouth opened in a silent plea for some bit of information. As far as Ned knew, he was the only one who knew about Peter’s secret. What the hell did you have to do with anything? 

MJ turned and let out a heavy sigh, you, Ned, and Peter all quickly returning to a neutral ignorant facade. “I don’t usually look up to people but I think the Midnight Angel is my hero.” 

You snorted, “Why’s that?” You questioned innocently. 

“Why wouldn’t they be? All these twisted sickos out there go around abusing and assaulting people and get away with it because of our victim-blaming ‘justice’ system,” she added air quotes, “It’s about time somebody tracked these fuckers down and made them pay,” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, looking off dreamily, “I think I want to marry them.” 

“You don’t even know who they are.” Ned’s pointed out. 

MJ just waved away the concern, “Don’t care. That’s the energy I need in my life.” 

You just chuckled inwardly to yourself and though, Alright, guess we’re getting married. Peter looked over to you with a similar look, laughing at the same thought himself. 

“So do you guys think it’s all Spiderman?” You asked, just to look less suspicious, though Ned still looked like he was catching on. 

MJ shook her head, “No, not a chance. Why wouldn’t he have used his webs in the other eight attacks then?” Suddenly, she jolted and began scribbling on a notebook page. 

“What are you doing?” Peter peeked over her shoulder to try and decipher the scribbles, failing when MJ’s hair fell to block his view. 

“I’m gonna figure out who they are.” She announced proudly. “Because I know they are not the same person.”

Peter shrugged, panicking internally, “There’s like eight million people in New York City. I don’t think you-” 

“Sure in the whole city but all the attacks have been local to Queens. Same with Spiderman sightings. I’m guessing they live here in Queens, which brings our pool down to like 2 million people. Spiderman is apparently male, which further cuts that number in half, and we don’t know about the Midnight Angel because nobody has ever seen them. From there, we can look at Spiderman’s build and eliminate people who are overweight, underweight, and super tall…” MJ continued rambling on about her masterplan to discover the identities of Spiderman and her new hero, the Midnight Angel. 

You and Peter looked across the table at each other, your leg bouncing nervously. While MJ’s plan seemed ludicrous considering the millions of possibilities she had to sort through, you knew how smart she was. There was a possibility, no matter how slim, that she could actually figure this out. Peter seemed to know this as well. 

Would it be better to come clean now or wait and see if she figured it out? Concerns for the future of the Midnight Angel whirled through your mind but one thing was for sure: regardless of whether or not Ned and MJ found out your secret, the Midnight Angel would never disappear. 

[imagine-loki]

Loki and the Witchling

TITLE: Loki and the Witchling 

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 14/?

AUTHOR: nekoamamori

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you’re a healer working with the Avengers when Loki comes to join the team

RATING: T (so far) 

NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 click here

    You woke the next morning to Jarvis bothering you to get out of bed. I glared in the general direction the voice was coming from. “I’m up, J,” you told him.

    “Very good, Miss,” he replied pleasantly. You hoped that him being more annoying than usual wasn’t him getting back at you for making him play the Wicked soundtrack 3,000 more times since you saw the show.

    You dressed quickly in jeans, the Loki t-shirt Nat had gotten you, and a hoodie that may or may not have originally been Loki’s. A couple passes of a brush through your hair had you wishing for your magic back to actually be able to do something with it. Loki had taught you quite a few hair spells with strict orders never to tell Thor about them. Unfortunately, you couldn’t do any of them right now, so a ponytail would have to suffice. Besides, you were going to school. There wasn’t any reason to dress nicely or really care what you looked like there. You weren’t happy that you had to leave your daggers behind when you didn’t have your powers, but you couldn’t take them to school. At least you would be spending the day among humans and Nat had made sure you could take care of yourself.

    You were surprised that Thor hadn’t woken while you were getting dressed. You wrote him a post-it note that you were fine and had left for school and carefully attached it to his forehead. Somehow he still didn’t wake. You took a picture of him, smirking at the sight of him lying on your couch with a bright yellow post-it note on his forehead.

    You weren’t at all surprised to see Loki waiting for your outside of your suite’s door. He was back to how he normally looked. “Morning, Loki,” you greeted him before you stood up on your toes to give him a kiss.

    “Good morning, witchling,” he replied with a smile, taking your school bag off of your shoulder so he could carry it himself. Your books were taken from your arms with gentleness, but enough speed that you couldn’t fight him.

    “Loki, I need those,” you grumbled at him, reaching for the books. Silly Trickster.

    “I am aware of that. That is why I am carrying them,” he replied pleasantly. You sighed and rolled your eyes.

    “Fine, silly trickster,” you teased him, but while his hands were busy, you got a selfie of you kissing his cheek. “Jarvis, can you print off that picture and the one I took of Thor this morning?” you asked the air as you and Loki walked to the elevator to head downstairs for breakfast.

    “Yes, Miss. They will print to the printer in the livingroom.”

    “Thanks, Jarvis!” you called. You finally noticed that Loki was wearing the Stark tech again. “Tony put that stupid thing back on you?” you demanded grumpily.

    “Yes. He still does not like me. I could not put up an argument, as I was unconscious at the time. It is fine. No need to fight him over it,” he added before you could get your temper up on his behalf. “Witchling, are you sure you would not prefer to stay home from school?” Loki asked, noting that you had moved closer to his safety when the elevator doors opened to the living room.

    “I have to go. I have a calculus test today,” you reminded him. He’d helped you study for it earlier that weekend. Loki set your things down next to your place at the dining room table and the two of you went to make breakfast together. Loki shoved you behind him the second you entered the kitchen, though. The teen you had saved was in there in a new red and blue suit.

    “Hi! I’m Spiderman!” he greeted you all like an overly excited puppy. “Mr. Stark made me a new suit,” he looked over the two of you. “I know you! You’re Loki of Asgard. Thor’s brother. The one who tried to take over the world.” Loki growled at the kid until you placed a hand on his arm, calming him again. “I don’t know you,” he told me, but the expression on his mask was off. It was harder to read him when you couldn’t see half of his face.

    “You are lying,” Loki told him grumpily. You went with the more polite method.

    “I’m Y/N. I’m the healer who treated you last night,” you told him, still safely behind your Loki-shield.

    “Thanks for that,” Spiderman told you. “Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers said I have to stay here for a few days. They wouldn’t say why, but that they couldn’t be sure I was completely healed until then,” he said glumly.

    You smiled at him. “It’s not bad here,” you replied kindly. You checked your phone for the time. “Damn, looks like poptarts it is,” you grumbled. You’d wasted too much time talking to Spiderman. You ducked around Loki to dig the box of poptarts out from the back of the lowest cabinet. “Goddammit, Thor!” you cursed, throwing the empty box away. “Can I stab your brother for eating my poptarts again?” You asked Loki.

    “I see no problem with that. I have stabbed him for less,” he replied jovially.

    “Hey, Y/N, think you can get Mr. Stark to agree to let me go to school? I feel fine now, and I really don’t want to miss my calculus test,”

    “Mr. Nashid?” you asked automatically, finally recognizing him now that he’d mentioned the calculus test. You were digging for the other box of hidden poptarts and finally pulled the emergency box from under a loose floorboard.

    “Yeah…how did you-?”

    “5th period calculus test today,” you answered, standing again with your prize. You threw all of the poptarts in the toaster, while what you could see of the kid’s face paled.

    “Dude, I saved your life last night,” you reminded him. “Your secret identity is safe with me.” You passed out poptarts to Loki and Spiderman when they were done. The three of you ate them, standing in the kitchen. “Jarvis, where’s Tony?” you asked, feeling sorry for the kid who just didn’t want to miss his test.

    “Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers are heading your way, Miss,” Jarvis replied. That wasn’t what you asked, but them coming here would solve the problem, so you didn’t argue with Jarvis over the semantics.

    Cap and Tony both appeared while you were all finishing your poptarts. Cap turned to Loki first. “Can you go to school with Y/N and guard her?”

    Loki nodded his usual regal reserved nod. “Of course,”

    “Cap!? I’ve never needed a guard at school before,” you protested.

    “We’ve sent a guard with you every month,” he replied, without spelling out that you were without your powers in front of Spiderman. “They just haven’t been so obvious. I’m not leaving you undefended, especially with the trouble we had last night. Try not to act like a couple. I don’t want to get an angry call from the school later,”

    “Fine,” you grumbled, though you were pleased to spend the day with Loki, even if it was when he was pretending to be your guard.

    Spiderman wasn’t paying attention to your conversation with Cap. He was too busy begging Tony: “Mr. Stark, please! I’m fine! I can’t miss this test. Aunt May will kill me!”

    “Fine, but straight to school and straight back. You’re staying here for a couple more nights, kid,” Tony relented. “Happy is driving all three of you to school in five minutes. There’s clothes in the med room for you,” Tony told Spiderman, who ran off to get dressed. You went and grabbed the pictures Jarvis had printed off for you. You shoved them into your calculus textbook for use later.

    Cap was telling Loki he had to dress like a security guard. With a flash of green magic he was dressed in a black suit with white dress shirt, looking like most of the other security guards you’d ever seen around the compound. Except his hair. You went over to him and pushed him to one of the dining room chairs. “Sit,” you told him. He rolled his eyes, but did what you told him.

    “Witchling, what are you doing?” he asked.

    You held out a hand. “Hairbrush?” you asked. He sighed heavily, but the requested item appeared in your hand an instant later. “You don’t look like a security guard with your hair loose,” you told him as you brushed his hair back. He didn’t protest, but sat still while you brushed out his hair, and then tied it carefully into what the media had dubbed a ‘manbun’. You saw the melty look in his eyes while you were working on his hair. He had enjoyed it, though he wouldn’t admit it, especially not in front of the others. “Done,” you announced, moving to stand in front of him. You leaned down to kiss him, enjoy feeling tall for once.

    “Loki, please be careful today,” you finally voiced your concern. He gave you his full attention.

    “Witchling, I am not the one without my powers, and I am fully capable of defending both of us in a physical fight,”

    “That’s not what I mean. We’re going out all day among teenagers who I’m sure will recognize you. Teenagers are not the nicest creatures ever. I’m worried they’re all going to be mean to you,” you confessed. He chuckled.

    “Darling, they will just be curious how you have managed to tame me to be your lowly security guard. It will be fine, I promise,” he laughed. You weren’t entirely convinced that it would be as ok as he thought, but he could protect himself. He could protect you both.

    The alarm on your phone beeped. You all needed to get going or you’d be late. You grabbed your stuff and headed to the elevator to wait for Spiderman with Loki following you, still chuckling, and seeming touched by your concern.

    Spiderman came back out in jeans and a t-shirt with a new backpack slung over his shoulder. He was still wearing the mask. “You forgot your mask,” you told him. He looked away. “Dude, I already know who you are. There’s only one kid in my math class with your build. Hell, there might only be one kid in the school with your build. Cap and Tony probably know who you are by now, and Loki doesn’t care,” Loki huffed and you gave him a look. He really didn’t care who the kid was. “You’re gonna have to take the mask off before we get to school anyway,” you reminded him. “Might as well do it here where your identity is safe,”

    “Your tongue is nearly as silver as mine, witchling,” Loki whispered in your ear while Peter finally took the mask off and shoved it in his school bag.

    “That is high praise indeed,” you replied with a smile.

    The three of you took the elevator down to the first floor of the tower where Happy was parked. If you identified the look in Peter’s eyes correctly when he thought you weren’t looking, Loki was going to care very much who he was soon, and was going to kill the poor kid for the look of adoration you had seen on Peter’s face.

[childoftonystark]

Day 5 (late): Poisoned

Natasha woke up freezing and in pain. That wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, she had wakened up this way more than most people, with aching muscles and a hazy mind. But even the most seasoned spy can’t feel pain. She had to fight off a moan as she cracked her eyes open to see her too bright surroundings. She needed to know her environment if she needed to fight.

Where she found herself? At the back a freezing cave, it was under 7 degrees Celsius since she could see her breath and probably less than 0 degrees from the snow from outside the cave. She looked around, and found herself alone, but not far from another person. On the edge of the cave was a small fire and there were foot prints in the snow outside the cave. She was laying in a sleeping bag in the deepest part of the cave, which was only about 5 feet deep and 6 feet long, and probably just high enough for her to stand comfortably. Now that she knew where she was, at least on a small scale, she wondered how she got there.

Knowing she wasn’t alone and that she probably was with one of her team mates she tried to stand and find them, thinking she could fight through the pain. She stood, and it felt like she was walking on glass. Her arms were so weak she left them dangling at her sides. It was then when she noticed that she had lost her weapons, no knives, guns, nothing on her, just her clothes on her back and she felt her heart sink deep in the pit of her stomach. She felt undressed without them.  She got half way out of the cave when she heard the footsteps coming through the snow. By the sound of them, it was a light athletic person, she thought through the fog in her mind, and had the mental prosses to grab a stone incase she had to fight off an attacker as panic gripped her near limp body.

Then, Spider man came stumbling in. He wore his suit and a blue hoodie tightly around him. He looked up and his mechanical eyes widened when he saw her.

“Oh, no uh Miss. Here.” Natasha had tried to walk towards him but fell instead.

Suddenly Natasha felt her stomach lurch and she guessed Spiderman must have felt it in his soul because he sprinted outside, so she could vomit without getting anything vomited on.  He waddled out, holding Natasha away from him while pulling her hair out of her face. When she was done with that she felt a sharp shock of how cold it was. Her skin felt icy, and when she looked down at her hand her fingers looked close to blue.

“Okay, done? Good. Let’s get you back to bed.” The man holding her sounded out of breath from holding her like that. He pulled her to be carried bridle style and walked back into the cave to the sleeping bag. There he tucked her in tight, leaving her numb and in a half daze. She watched him go over to the fire  

She watched him go over to the fire, stocking the flames before holding a metal bowl over the heat. She noticed that there was snow filled in it and in silence she watched it melt.

“What happened? Where are we?”

“You don’t remember? We were on a mission yesterday and we got poisoned. It was a neurotoxin I think. Something that knocked us out and left you pretty messed up.” The snow had melted, and the boy walked over and helped her sit up. Gratefully she took giant gulps down, washing away the bitter taste in her mouth with the warm water. Once she was done, the boy pulled out an energy bar and opened it for her. “We’re in northern Turkey now and help is coming. We just need to stay put.” As she ate the food, Natasha pondered if they needed to stay put or had no choice but to stay put. She probably wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. The boy pulled off his mask, revealing a young, exhausted face. He had dark sunken under eyes and a pale face.

Natasha had known that this guy was young but damn, he looked like a kid. Like not old enough to drive kind of kid. She watched him rub his face with he palms of his hands as she finished the energy bar. She was starting to feel more exhausted, and the room began to spin. Natasha laid back down.

“You should get some rest, I’ll be on the lookout so don’t worry.

“Why are you okay?”

“Me? Oh. I have advanced healing. It’s like, one of my super powers. The poison doesn’t affect me like it affects you.”

“Ah…” Nat gets too dizzy, drunk on neurotoxins she guesses. Soon she’s close to finally passing back out again. She closes her eyes and feels the boy pull the sleeping bag around her, making sure she was warm. At the last second before she drowns in blackness she looks over to watch spider boy who had sat down by the small fire and watch him watch the sky. Looking for help that would save their lives.

AN: Yayyy first late chapter. I hope everyone likes this idea of Peter and Natasha sort of being friends because I feel like the two character just have such different energies that they would be so funny to write together, so I’ll probably be doing something with the two of them this month. Hope you liked it!

[emergenciesstory]

We need you

Parings: Female!reader x Female!partner (OFC Max), Steve x Bucky, Past!Reader x Bucky

Warnings: Gay-ness

Words: 1767

Summary: Reader left to settle down with her wife, but no one said getting out was permanent. When have the old team goes MIA, Reader has to break the fairytale for reality.

A/N: May make this a multipart. Let me know

Series Masterlist 

    “I’ll get it!” you heard your partner yell as the ringing phone stopped. You finished making the bed and started stuffing pillows back in their cases. “Hold on one second.” Walking back into the bedroom, they held the phone out to you, shrugging their shoulders. Taking the phone, you made a face at Max.

    “Y/L/N.” You said, cocking an eyebrow at your partner, throwing the pillow at them playfully.

    “We need you again” *click*. The world slowed as you heard the voice, chilling you to the core. Slowly lowering the phone, you knew the worry was written across your face.

    “What’s wrong? Who was that?” Looking at Max, her face so innocent, you knew this would break their heart. “Babe, are you okay?”

    Turning your back and heading to the closet, you spoke with words as monotone as the dial tone humming from the handset.

“I haven’t told you everything about what I did, well, do.” Slipping behind clothes in the back of the closet, you pushed the exterior wall, giving way to a secret hole in the closet. Grabbing the three duffle bags, you brought them out and set them on the bed.

“Okay so tell me.” Max sat on the upper corner of the bed, looking questioningly to the bags you placed on the foot, hands in their lap. “I’m not going anywhere. For better or worse, right?” Her smile was flawless, pure. You couldn’t look at them as you spoke.

Unzipping the first duffle, you riffled through the spandex suits and masks, mentally counting before slipping on the old watch in the bottom. Throwing a hoodie in, you zipped it back up.

“You know I worked for the Government, Top secret jobs that no one could ever know about.” Your partner nodded their head as you zipped the duffle, opening the next and pulling out a case. Opening it quickly, you handed the contents to your partner, dozens of Passport books with different names, stamps, languages, identities, but the same picture in each one, yours. “That’s not entirely true.” Minutes passed in silence, nothing but the rustling of papers.

“Which of these is real?” They asked plainly, almost a whisper. Pulling out the most worn copy from the bottom of the case, you went around and knelt beside the bed, pulling her to face you.

“My name is Y/n, Y/L/N. That is true. Everything I told you is true. About where I come from, my family, it’s all real, no cover story. But that person doesn’t exist to the world, to the government. Only to you and the people on the phone. For your protection, for our protection.” You handed her your passport and stood, diving back into the duffle, pulling the COMMS unit out and placing it securely in your ear.

“Soldat. I’m loaded.” You said, queuing into the feed for the man on the phone. Glancing at your partner, you realized it was still quiet.

“Maxi, say something, please.” you begged. They looked at you, mouth moving but nothing coming out. Grabbing the last duffle, you handed it to them. “This is yours. In case my work ever put you in danger. Please, know I hate having to run like this. I never thought I’d be called back in.” Leaning over them, you leaned in for a kiss, and when they were still stunned still, you kissed their forehead and grabbed your two bags. “I love you, that was never a lie. I’ll be back soon, if you still want me. Just, I’m sorry.”

Walking out, you held the tears from your eyes, pulling the old farm truck from the back of the garage and leaving the cabin, never looking back. You had bought the place as a safehouse, the small town making it easy to disappear and start the life you wanted. Placing your fingers under the radio, you felt the familiar warmth of the fingerprint scanner, then the prick of the blood draw. The screens flipped out and you continued the winding drive down the mountain, away from safety, away from the love of your life.

“I’m sorry we had to call on such short notice, y/n/n. We wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t an emergency.” Sam’s face was tired, looking like he hadn’t slept in weeks. The man made your heart melt, they all did. They were your family after all.

“It’s okay, Sam. I’m about twenty out from the farm. What’s going on?”

“Stark, Rogers, and Romanov have been compromised. They didn’t return at the set time and have missed the follow up call in.”

“How’s Barnes holding up? So close to the wedding and all.”

“Barton, Barnes, Parker, and myself will meet you at the drop, and head straight towards the last known location of the operatives.” Sam said, not answering your question. You knew this was hard, The save the date being for next week.

“Confirmed. See you then.” The monitor clicked off, and you pressed the gas harder. This would be the mission of a lifetime.

________________________________

    Y/n had left long before Max opened the duffle infront of them. Inside was a case similar to the one you had pulled the passports out of, a black leather type jacket, and a set of clothes. Pulling out the case, a fingerprint reader lit up. Placing her thumb on it, the print reader got warm before pricking their finger.

    “Ow.” Max said, bringing her finger to her lips and sucking the small drop of blood.

    “Welcome, Max.” The small feminine voice rang out as the case opened. “My name is Friday, I am an AI built to help the Avengers. Y/n asked I monitor this case for when it is opened. She left you a message, would you like to hear it?”

    Hesitating, Max bit her lip before responding. “Yes, please.”

    “One Moment.” The silence was no more than a couple seconds, but it felt like an eternity.

    “Max, I hoped you would never hear this, that one day when we are grey and old I could open this with you and we could reminisce. Unfortunately, in my line of work, that is never the case.” Max let out a small chuckle at the slight pun.

    “This is your crash case. If you opened it, it means I was called away. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth about my job, I just wanted you safe. I made this after our first date, I knew I wanted to be with you forever that day. In the bottom of this case you will find three passports and ID cards, and a business card for a car service. If I am gone without contact for more than a week, Call the number and ask for Happy’s motorcycle. It’s a code phrase. The man to pick you up will be in a old Ford, and his ID will read Jack. He will ask to see your ID, use the red one. He will take you to a safe place where you will be filled in.”

Max flipped through the ID’s and passports, making a mental note.

    “I know this is a lot of information, babe, but Friday is linked to the Cabin and was activated as soon as you opened the case. The watch is a tracker as well as panic button. If anything happens spin the ring three times and I will come back to you, no matter what. Emergencies only. If you have any questions, Ask Friday. You have full access to information you need.” The message went quiet for a moment.

    “Max, I love you so much. No matter what happens, I’m always yours.”

    The room was quiet for a moment, Max reached out and picked up the delicate watch, a simpler version of the one you put on earlier.

    “Is there anything I can explain for you, Max?” Friday’s voice was now coming from inside the room, little speakers now easier to pick out around the room.

    “No. Just keep her safe.” Closing the case, Max placed the duffle back into the closet.

_____________________

    Your watch lit up as you pulled into the barn on the far edge of Barton’s farm, a message showing the case had been opened. Taking a deep breath, you changed quickly before pulling the bags out of the car and covering it with an old tarp. Walking out, the familiar roar of the Quinjet descending to a hover right in front of you filled your ears, as you ran to jump in the back. Swinging in, the door closed behind you.

    “Just like riding a bike,” Sam smiled from beside you, taking your jump bag and securing them in the box. Giving him a hug, you looked around. Barton was flying, shooting you a wink from the captain's chair. An energetic and anxious looking kid sat strapped into the passengers bench, the one seat no one ever had to buckle up in. Bucky was slumped into a tracking station, headphones on and focused. Looking back at the kid, you gave him a smile.

    “You must be new to this whole avenging thing,” you mused. “Hi, I’m Y/n.” You sauntered towards him, extending your hand.

    “I know. I mean, hi, I’m Peter, Peter Parker. Local friendly neighborhood Spiderman. Or, I guess not Local. New York. I’m from New York.” He shook your hand, shaking his head like he was chastising himself.

    “Well, Peter, it’s very nice to meet you. I’m excited to see your talents.” You looked back at Bucky, who hadn’t moved. Walking over to him, the rest of the Jet grew quite, Clint having a hushed conversation with Peter to give you privacy. Wrapping your arms around the Super soldier from the back, you leaned into him and spoke softly into the COMMS, knowing only he could hear.

    “You know, it’s not the first time he’s gone MIA. He always comes back, you know that.” Bucky tensed slightly before dissolving into you, his fingers rubbing the spot Steve’s ring was carved out of his metal hand.

    “I don’t blame you for getting out. I’m sorry you couldn’t stay that way.” He murmured, turning in your arms. You sat in his lap, so familiar like old times being partnered on missions.

    “I’m glad you called, Buck. Family comes first, and you’re stuck with me.” Pulling your hair up out of your face, you gave a weak smile. “Now, let’s go save your world.”

[fantasticstoryteller]

New Dynasty Chapter 24

The old folks home (assisted living facility) that Aunt May lived in was built like a mansion with two wings. One wing was full of apartments for people who were (mostly) able to look after themselves. The other was for those whose health was so bad they couldn't even try. Wade checked in at the desk, because he wasn’t sure which side Aunt May would be in.

The woman working the desk stared at him. Most people did—but he didn’t mind it as much wearing his mask. “You’re related to Mrs. Parker?” demanded the woman, her lip curling up.

“Yup,” Wade said with a fake grin plastered to his face. “I’m her nephew and this is my daughter.” He hoped they didn’t ask what the girl’s age was. Or her name. He had no idea and didn’t know how to explain it.

The girl looked at the woman behind the desk and gave a wave. A wave that was, Wade noticed, almost exactly like the one she gave Spiderman earlier. The woman’s face softened. “Oh, what a cutie!” she said.

The girl turned and buried her head in Wade’s jacket as he grinned. “She’s a little shy,” he explained.

“It’s safer that way,” the woman said cryptically as she typed quickly into her computer. “Mrs. Parker is in the Adams wing, room 342.”

The Adams wing was the one for people doing well enough to support themselves, mostly. He nodded, relieved that she wasn’t in the Donner wing, and walked away from the desk. The place looked like a fancy hotel, but it smelled like a hospital.

The room was opened by a sour faced woman who frowned at him. Wade was about to apologize for getting the wrong room when he heard Aunt May behind her. “Wade!” the woman said as she hobbled forwards. She had a huge boot on one foot and was leaning heavily on a cane.

“Ma’am,” the sour-faced woman said respectfully, “you shouldn't be pushing yourself.”

“Nonsense,” breezed May. “My foot is in a boot, and boots were made for walking!”

“And just last week that boot was a cast,” the woman said tersely.

Aunt May just waved that off as she walked over to Wade. She grinned at the child on his chest. “And who might you be, dear?” she asked gently. The child turned and looked at her and Aunt May gave a low whistle. “Oh, you look like the spitting image of your father!” She turned to the sour-faced woman. “Adelina, please be a dear and get some snacks together for these two.” The sour-faced woman nodded and then stalked off, into the apartment.

Wade put the little girl down and she looked up at Aunt May with wide eyes. Her thumb went to her mouth. “None of that now,” Aunt May said gently smack the hand away. “You’re getting too big for that, and you need to stop. The girl paused, as if considering. She hugged the tablet (miraculously unharmed) to herself.

[Given this author I don’t think “miraculous” is the right word.]

Shush.

“Good girl,” Aunt May said. The girl gave her a tentative smile. “Come in, come in,” she said as she hobbled back to the couch.

The sour-faced woman came in and put a huge plate with apple slices and a small bowl of peanut butter on the table. The girl looked at the food. “Say ‘thank you’,” Aunt May prompted.

The girl looked up, eyes wide and timid. “Thank you?” she asked hesitantly.

Aunt May reached over and tousled the girl’s hair. “Good girl,” she approved. The girl touched her hair, beamed at Wade, beamed at Aunt May, and even smiled at the sour-faced woman before digging into the food.

Wade smiled at Adelina too. “Did you know your name means ‘graceful and noble’?” he asked.

She sneered at him before turning to Aunt May. “I’m going to to the kitchens. Page me if you need anything.” She left with one last glare for Wade.

“Who shoved a stick up her ass?” asked Wade glaring at the woman.

Aunt May laughed. “Sometimes,” she confessed, “I wonder the same thing. Child,” she said addressing the little girl. The girl paused, apple slice with peanut butter on it halfway to her mouth. “Please go down that hall into the room on the left and bring out the large plastic tote with the bright red and blue lid,” she said. The girl put the apple slice down and tottered off to comply with the old woman’s wishes.

“Where did she come from Wade?” Aunt May asked quietly. “This child who’s the spitting image of Peter and has no name?”

[How does she know the girl doesn’t have a name?]

{It’s Aunt May. Her powers of observation are scary beyond belief.}

So, Wade told her everything. He started with Peter being stalked, getting kidnapped (again), being rescued, and finding the child who led them to the other children. “Old Tin Can kind of—uh, went into the system,” he finished. If his skin hadn’t been so badly scarred he would have flushed. “Uh—Peter and I—we’re married now.”

Aunt May whooped with laughter again. The girl came into the room holding a thirty gallon plastic tote that was full of books. She gently put it on the floor and looked at Aunt May. “Good girl,” she approved. “Now, open it up and bring me the flower printed binder.” The girl complied and Wade, curious, drifted over. “This,” Aunt May said with satisfaction as she opened it show some pictures, “is Peter when he was your—size.”

Wade looked at the picture, a boy in front of a snowman that was partially made with dirty snow and both hands in the air like he was cheering. Aside from the length of the hair (Peter’s was shorter in the picture than the girl’s was) and the clothing, the two could have easily been the same kid. Something about the happy amber eyes in the picture, compared to the somber amber eyes of the girl, made Wade choke up.

Aunt May turned the pages showing them snapshots of Peter growing up. Peter with his first camera. Peter with his glasses broken, taped together, and sporting both a huge black eye and a wide smile.

[The fuck happened there?]

{He looks so proud of—whatever he did.}

Wade hovered his finger over the picture. “What happened here?” he asked.

Aunt May chuckled. “A bully at school pushed down another student and Peter went swinging to her rescue.” She smiled fondly at the picture. “He got beaten up and became the target of all the bullies, but he was so proud that he saved that little girl.”

Wade chuckled as well. “Sounds like Peter,” he said with a smile.

[Uh, speaking of little girls, what is she doing?]

Wade turned his head to see the girl going through the tote. Aunt May peered around him. “See anything interesting in there?” she asked. The girl pulled out an old, yellowed spiral-bound notebook and brought it over. Opening it to show page after page of blankness that didn’t even have lines in it, she frowned. “Oh, it’s Peter’s old sketchbook,” Aunt May said with a smile.

Wade blinked. “Peter—draws?” he asked, confused. It was the first he’d heard of it.

Aunt May chuckled. “No,” she said, amused. “Peter never drew. It was a present from someone who didn’t know him well.” She looked at the girl. “Would you like the sketchbook?” she asked. The girl nodded, timidly. “Say please.” The girl looked confused. “When you want something,” Aunt May continued, “you say, please. If you’re being formal, you say, ‘may I please have it’. And when someone gives you what you want, you say ‘thank you’.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed and Wade watched, wondering what she’d do. “May I please have the sketchbook, Aunt May?” asked the girl timidly. Wade felt his eyes go wide.

Aunt May’s narrowed in satisfaction—looking eerily similar to the girl when she was considering something. “Indeed you may, good girl. Since you have been such a good girl, I’ll give you something else. Inside that tote is a box of colored pencils you can also have—if you can find it.”

“Thank you,” the girl said timidly. When Aunt May smiled at her she smiled back and then went to dig through the tote—neatly, making sure not to make a mess.

“That’s a good girl,” Aunt May said with satisfaction. She looked at Wade. “Now, I’m grateful for this visit and all, but why are you here Wade?” she asked.

Wade sighed and rubbed his hands over his bald head. “I’m terrified,” he admitted to the older woman. “I’m so scared that I’m going to fu—mess this up.”

Aunt May smiled. “Welcome to everyone who has ever been a parent,” she told him.